#Not sure if any of these were on prev lists | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sailortongue · 5 months ago

Text

Lima Bean

pairing: kenji sato x reader

summary: kenji makes his intentions clear and a certain reporter is a little too committed to his job

an: ik the title is kinda dumb but bear with me i have an idea (title is still subject to change if the idea falls through). also tags are being kind of silly and I don't know how to get them to act right so if you asked to be tagged but didn't get notified I swear I tried 😭

wc: 2k

navi | prev | series mlist

--------

“I’m pregnant.”

Those two words changed Kenji’s entire demeanor in seconds. His face dropped and his jaw hung open in complete disbelief. “. . . Are you sure?” He asked.

“Positive test, missed period, morning sickness,” you listed off. “I’m going to make an OBGYN appointment anyway just to be 100% sure, but so far yeah I’m pretty sure.”

“Ah,” was all he could say in response, his mind both blank and racing at the same time. Had he really not used protection? Was he that drunk? He tried to think back to that night, but all he could seem to remember was a flash of you under him and his lips on your neck. His face immediately flushed scarlet.

“Are you angry?” You asked, noticing the rapid shift in his complexion.

He rushed to deny your assumption. “No! No, nothing like that. I'm just . . . not sure what to make of this.”

“I know how you feel,” you said wryly. “Just thought you should know, I guess.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling almost hollow inside with the knowledge that your life was about to undergo a drastic change.

“I appreciate it, thank you. If you don’t mind, uh,” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “I'd like to be present. To be a father.” He thought back to when he took care of Emi and how much he came to love her. He was confident in his ability to take care of his own biological child, even if these weren’t the circumstances in which he imagined he’d have one.

You looked at him as if you were meeting him for the very first time, entirely taken aback by his willingness to step up. Truthfully you'd expected him to deny any responsibility, but there he was, asking to raise the baby alongside you—to step up to the metaphorical plate and be a dad. “Really? And you’re not going to leave at the first inconvenience?”

“No. You have my word on that.” His expression was one of utmost sincerity. “I want to be a dad. Granted, this isn’t how I expected it,” he laughed awkwardly, “but it’s how it happened, and I won't run away from it.��

You gave him a soft smile. “I'll be honest, I didn't expect you to be so noble.”

“Thought I’d tell you to get rid of it or just throw a check at you to never contact me again? I understand the concern, but I want to be there every step of the way.”

“Then, would you like to come with me for my appointment? I haven’t scheduled it yet but . . .” you trailed off, realizing you were asking a very busy man to take time out of his day to accompany you to a doctor's appointment. “Unless of course you’re busy or don’t want to,” you added quickly.

He laughed at how flustered you’d gotten. “I'll be there. No matter the weather, practice, or a game, I will be there. That’s my kid you’ve got in there after all,” he said with a broad grin on his face as he pointed to your abdomen. “And that takes priority over everything else.”

“Wow. You’re smitten with something that’s probably the size of a lima bean right now,” you teased.

“Woah now, that’s our lima bean and I’m going to be the best dad a bean could wish for,” he asserted, imagining teaching his future son or daughter to play baseball with him or helping with homework, even what it would be like to do his daughter’s hair, or perhaps teaching his son how to tie a tie.

He was snapped from his thoughts when you slid your phone towards him from across the table, the screen displaying a new contact. “If we're going to be coparenting we should have each other's numbers.”

He picked up the device to input his number and then checked his own phone. He showed you the screen, a message from your own number displayed there.

It was only when he handed your phone back to you that you noticed how late it had already become. “Oh wow, I didn’t realize the time. I didn't mean to keep you so late,” you apologized.

“No no, it’s fine. I'm glad you, or, Ami, I guess, insisted we have this conversation in person. Think if I had been told over text I’d still be sitting on the couch reading it over and over again,” he laughed.

“That was how I felt looking at the test. It didn’t feel real.” You had a smile that mirrored his own, and you couldn’t believe how fortunate you were that Kenji wasn’t the douche you expected he’d be when he found out. Quite the opposite, to your pleasant surprise.

“Do you need a ride back home?” He asked earnestly, not quite ready to say bye. After all, you hadn’t allowed him the chance the last time you had met.

You shook your head as you stood from the table. “No, I drove here, but thanks anyway. I guess I'll keep in touch?”

He hummed in affirmation, standing from his chair, his impressive height towering over you. He gestured for you to walk first, following close behind you, his hand lightly pressed to your lower back as he walked with you to your car. While the two of you were wishing each other good night, another patron of the cafe was typing furiously into his phone, notifying his boss that he had just overheard the sport's world's juiciest scandal in months.

-❀-

The first thing you did the following day was schedule an appointment with an obstetrician. There had been a recent cancellation so you were able to get a slot in just a few days. You sent Kenji a text to notify him when and where, a small part of you looking forward to seeing him again. He responded quickly, saying he would definitely be there.

When the day came, he called you to ask if you wanted to go together, rather than take two cars. You agreed and told him your address, choosing to wait for him inside due to the biting cold of December. When you heard a car pull up, you exited your home, and it took all of your willpower not to gawk at his car, which was probably worth more than your entire house. You saw the driver's door begin to open, and he stepped out, breathtakingly handsome as usual. He pushed his sunglasses on top of his head and waved, greeting you with a jovial “Morning!”

“Good morning, Kenji,” you returned, a smile gracing your features.

As you approached the car, he slid back into the driver's seat and looked over at you, taking in the sight of the mother of his future child. He'd lain awake all night, playing with the idea over and over in his mind. He was really going to be a dad. How different could it be to raise a human baby if he’d already done so with a 20-foot-tall kaiju baby?

You noticed his gaze in your peripheral vision, but as you turned to look at him he snapped his attention forward and made himself busy with inputting the name of the doctor’s office you’d given him into the GPS.

The ride was filled with pleasant small talk, asking each other how you had been since last time, basically avoiding the elephant in the room and talking about everything except the new life between you. After parking, he made sure to open the door to the office for you and entered after you, a rush of cold air enveloping you as you approached the front desk. You confirmed your appointment with the receptionist, and she directed the two of you to sit in the waiting room and told you your name would be called when the doctor was ready.

As you were waiting, you noticed Kenji’s leg bouncing up and down rapidly, showing his nerves despite it not even being his appointment. You took the opportunity that had presented itself and placed your hand atop his knee. He looked over at you, his brown eyes wide and his lips pressed into a thin line. “You can wait in the car if you’d prefer—“

“No!” He all but shouted, refusing to let you believe for even one second that he would run out. “I said I would be here for you and I will,” he said adamantly, placing his hand over yours where it was still on his knee and squeezing tightly, a physical reassurance that we was staying put.

“y/n l/n.” You heard your name called. You and Kenji stood together, his hand not releasing yours. Instead, he rubbed calming circles on the skin as you were escorted into the patient rooms, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was meant to ease his nerves or yours. Either way, it was a sweet gesture.

-❀-

The gel was cold as it was spread across your exposed skin, sending shivers up your spine. A grainy black and white image showed up on the screen, and the doctor pointed to a small grey object depicted on it, surrounded by a sea of black. “This,” she started, “is the fetus.” You looked at the screen in awe before glancing over at Kenji. He was seated in a chair against the wall, his elbows braced on his knees as he leaned forward, his attention rapt on the screen and his lips open in a small “o” shape.

The doctor chuckled at your amazed reactions. “Excited to be parents?” She asked.

You don’t think Kenji even heard her, so you answered. “To be totally honest, this was unexpected, but I think we can make it work. Kenji here made it very clear that he wants to be a dad.”

“That's wonderful to hear. Well, looking at the scan I'd say you’re about 7 weeks along and you can expect to welcome the baby around August 11.

Kenji was practically bubbling as you each took your seats in the car, and he kept stealing glances at your tummy even if you weren’t showing any visible change yet.

-❀-

These past few days of tailing the nation's sweetheart baseball player were so worth it, thought the man sitting in his car while browsing through the photos of Kenji Sato and a woman he’d never been seen with before entering and leaving an OBGYN facility together. Interesting. Very interesting. With those photos there was no denying that Kenji Sato, baseball heartthrob, was a soon-to-be father.

-❀-

Kenji put the car in park in your driveway. You made to get out of the car until he exclaimed “Wait!” You re-situated yourself on the seat, angling yourself towards him. He seemed almost at war with himself, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to actually say what had prompted him to stop you from leaving. “Would you, uh,” he faltered, chuckling awkwardly. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” He gave you a hopeful look.

Heat flushed across your face and ears, and you beamed at him. “Doing things way out of order aren’t we?” You joked.

He laughed mirthfully as well. “Way out of order,” he agreed. “So, was that a yes? To go out?”

“Yes, that was a yes,” you giggled, finding his eagerness endearingly sweet.

He nodded his head. “Ok. Ok, great. Are you free this Saturday? I'll pick you up?”

“I’ll see you then,” you agreed cheerfully, and, deciding to take another risk since you were doing things all out of order anyway, you leaned over and placed a quick peck against his cheek before hopping out of the car and waving goodbye. He continued to wait in the car until he saw you safely enter your home, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest and his face crimson red, one hand placed lightly against where your lips had touched his skin.

----------

taglist: @mochminnie @lovingyeet @sassy-cat-in-town @hanachiiii @aise-30 @reivelmin @fcheung750 @breaddippedinorangejuice @lunaryasha @imsimping4life @boomboom-tanjiro2019 @f1uveryysblog @random-3455 @b3e-sat0 @retaaaa56 @casualburning

#ken sato x reader #kenji sato x reader #ken sato #kenji sato #ultraman rising #ultraman rising x reader

1K notes · View notes

bluesidez · 1 month ago

Text

Gym Rat Miguel Part 15

content warning: more angst, mentions of food, mentions of underage drinking and recreational drug use, some suggestive convos but nothing too crazy

word count: 6.4k (@slushycoookie thee wife, thee beta 🩵)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

“Does it show anything different?”

“Will you give me a second?”

GymRat!Miguel who was currently sitting at his desk, bouncing his leg while he waited for Tempest to tell him something good.

“It’s honestly looking like the same thing from last night. And the week before. And the week before that,” she deadpans through the phone.

Miguel turned and pressed his lips to his palm.

His call list was a constant cycle between his friends back home and Gabriel, but mostly Tempest, who has taken the role of checking for any updates from you online.

So far, all he’s gotten out of this was pain. You’ve completely removed anything that involved him from your pages. No anniversary pics, no highlights, no emojis in your bio to refer to him. From how Tempest put it, this was a huge deal.

“Look,” Miguel slumped as he geared himself up to listen to the same speech she’d been repeating. “I know you don’t want to hear this- don’t make that face! - but I think it’s time to give up or try something new.”

“It’s been forever.”

“If your definition of forever is a little over two weeks, then sure!”

“I just thought that,” he paused, mulling over the words in his head.

“That she would bend at your will? You’re cute, but not that cute.”

“No, that’s not- Temp,” Miguel whined. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

She snorted, “Uh huh. Which is why we’re stalking her page like weirdos.”

“If the roles were flipped, I would be doing the same for you. I have done the same for you.”

“Touché.”

Miguel remembered Tempest spiraling over girls she thought was the one, the two of them huddled up over the phone watching as they all moved onto the next.

He sat beside her and reminded himself never to get this way. He perked up like a flower soaking up the sun every time there was an inch of hope, which truly rivaled how Tempest acted.

“I was just thinking that today would be different. Maybe she would think about me today.”

The thought sits in the air, Tempest’s face shifting to one of sad understanding.

“Not trying to feed your delusions, but maybe she hasn’t stopped thinking about you.”

Miguel looked at the screen, a tiny bit optimistic.

“But in all fairness, I wouldn’t want anyone on my page who I thought committed one of the most cruel offenses. I would want to forget everything. You have to see this from her side too.”

Tempest was right, a common state when it came to their friendship. It didn’t stop that ugly rust of selfishness that crowded his heart.

He feels like he’s crying out for you, and you don’t care. A year of being together meant nothing to you.

Saying that out loud was insane, though. It didn’t align with how hurt you looked.

So, he’s been internally fighting the feeling, going from understanding to upset and back again.

“Have you talked to Xina at all?”

“She’s only keeping our conversations about school. And acting like nothing happened.”

“She’s probably embarrassed,” Tempest said. “She got caught this time and doesn’t know what to do.”

“Apologizing could be a start.”

“And that requires admitting she was wrong in the first place, so if you get that, let me know so I can mark the day. I’ll even make a t-shirt.”

The sigh that left Miguel was strong enough to irritate Tempest’s speakers.

He wanted to talk to her about the situation again, but it was like talking with a brick wall. It reminded him of when he snapped at her for constantly hitting him when they were younger. Looking back, they were just kids, and she probably didn’t mean anything by it. The red tint and angry pout on her face as she slid him her chocolate milk as an apology stuck with him.

“Why do you want an apology anyway? Or, why do you expect one?”

Miguel wasn’t sure himself. Xina was his childhood best friend, someone with whom he spent a lot of time and shared secrets. There were sweet memories and joyful moments.

It sucks to see her act so different.

“I think,” Miguel paused, looking off through his dorm window. “I think that-”

“Oh my god, she just posted.”

Miguel almost dropped his phone while he switched back to the messages app.

“What is it? What is it?”

“It is,” she dragged out her i’s. The sound of Tempest screenshotting and tapping away at her phone was like rapid fire. “An event, I think?”

“What event? You aren’t sending the pictures fast enough.”

“I already pressed send! Not my fault I don’t have high-speed internet.”

“Tell your cousin to stop fucking hogging it.”

“Shut up and watch the screen.”

His eyes dart across the screen as he waits for the screenshare to load.

Your account comes up, still intact. Miguel takes in everything like he did back when he first met you.

There were new posts about the sculptures you made in class and food from a new café. There’s also a glimpse of you smiling, and he feels like he’s ready to erupt.

Tempest refreshed your page again.

“This is so against girl code.”

“You haven’t even talked with her before.”

“How would you know?”

“Temp.”

“Right, sorry.”

She taps your story, and a flyer comes up.

“A Halloween-themed festival night?” Miguel says as the story disappears.

“Sounds fun!”

“I’m going to go. Put the story back up again.”

Tempest side-eyed him as best as she could, “Uh, maybe let’s not.”

“Why can’t I? I’m a member of the student body.”

“Do you usually go to these things?”

“No,” Miguel slowed his words. “But I could now? Maybe she won’t even be there.”

“And if she is? Wouldn’t it seem like you’re stalking her?”

He thinks about the many times he’s lingered around the art building, walked by your favorite spot on campus, and stared at corners of the library that you loved to see if you would be there.

“No?”

“Doubtful.”

“I just need to see her in person.”

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t stop thinking about whether or not you’ll be at the festival.

If he doesn’t see you, he’ll be disappointed, but the panic clawing at his throat won’t shift to his mind.

If he does see you, he’ll be like a fish out of water. Floundering, lost, and begging his lungs to gain its necessities.

He just hopes that going is the right decision.

GymRat!Miguel who goes to his robotics club meetup the next day.

There’s no competition coming up, but the department wanted to revise a moving metal skeleton for Halloween weekend.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks, Margo. I feel like it, too.”

She pulled his cheek out and made baby noises out of sympathy before Miguel swatted them away.

“Still no luck with your ex? Or is that joint giving you trouble?” she snickered at his sloppy attempt at connecting moving parts.

“Uh, no and yes.”

Aaron peeked up from his station and looked over like a beaver.

“I-it’s not because of what I said, right?”

Margo made a line with her mouth as if to say 'get a load of this guy'.

“No, Aaron,” Miguel mumbled.

“Yeah, Aaron, stop being nosy and get back to work,” Margo joked.

He snapped his welder’s mask back down like a dork and returned to sawing something, sparks flying past him.

Margo looks down at Miguel’s work.

“Well, I hope you can get her back soon because you need to work on your anatomy. Those bones don’t go together at all.”

He looks to a femur and a humerus connected with the sheer will of his clouded mind.

He missed when you attached sticky notes to his body for practice. The prize for getting the different parts of his body correct being kisses. You would laugh at his mistake but give a peck on the lips anyway. His arms were one of your favorite places to put your star-shaped stickers on, too.

“I didn’t mean for you to get even sadder,” Margo snapped him out of the memory.

“It’s fine. My fault.”

Margo shifted her weight as she started to take apart his mistake, “It’ll get better, Miguel. I’m sure of it.”

GymRat!Miguel who sits across from Tyler at one of the uppity restaurants in town. The lights are dim, as if the people eating here are all hiding from something.

“How’s school?” Tyler asked, clothes still managing to glow despite the one warm lamp above the table. He thanks the waitress for refilling his water glass. “Made any new friends? Connections?”

The age-old awkward feeling of trying to concisely describe his growing adult life was at the top of his mind.

“It’s going well,” was always the easiest answer. Simple and open-ended.

Of course, Tyler took this as a sign to delve further.

“Your mother told me you’re taking up game programming this semester. Do you like the feel of that class?”

An ice cube floated to the top of Miguel’s glass.

“I was enjoying it at first, now I’m sort of ready for it to end.”

Tyler cleared his throat, hand covering the frown on his face.

“Ah, well, some people just like the end result, I suppose,” he refolds a napkin, the reflection from his watch panning across the tablecloth. “What about your girlfriend? How is she? Perhaps, you have some new pieces of her’s to show me. My colleagues love the one in the entryway.”

The waiter placed a filet mignon in front of Miguel and bluefin tuna across from him. Tyler moved to tuck the same napkin into his crisp button down.

“I’m not sure.”

Tyler pauses as a slice of fish dangles from his fork.

Miguel is still cutting into the meat unnecessarily, knife scrapping against the plate.

“Son, this cut of meat is like butter,” Tyler said, taking the knife from him and putting it back on its napkin.

A twitch at the corner of his lips almost aligned with Tyler’s. The man racked his brain for the memories of his first son coming home with a similar expression.

He chewed and swallowed his fish stacked with cucumbers and cilantro.

“As you know, I am not the best when it comes to relationships. Nancy and I have had quite the uphill battle. However, I believe I am well-versed in the field of compromise. Should I reach out to her for you?”

It was a long shot, and by the growing shadows on his son’s face, Tyler suspected that his suggestion was a poor one.

“What will that do? Other than show her that I can’t handle my own problems.”

“Surely, you two can work it out. She was lovely, truly,” Tyler frets, afraid he’s made Miguel even more upset.

He just starts to eat, mind elsewhere.

Tyler wondered if he should have ordered some wine.

“When you found out Nancy cheated on you, what did you do?”

Lemon juice from his dish hit his throat right as he swallowed, a hand banging on his chest as he coughed.

“I, uh,” two gulps of water were taken from the glass Miguel handed him. “Well. The fruit of that labor is in front of me.”

“Obviously,” Miguel’s shoulders dropped and Tyler grimaced again. Curse his silly statements. “I meant, how did you feel? What were your initial thoughts?”

“I remember being angry. Here laid the mother of my only child with a much younger and, honestly, less fortunate man. I thought I was foolish to think that my genuine love or money could keep someone.”

Miguel pushed around an asparagus on his plate, “So there was a betrayal. A pain you couldn’t describe.”

“Exactly. For me, that came afterwards. I’m a prideful man. If one thing does not satisfy me, I simply find something that does.”

“And that thing just happened to be my mother?”

“Ah, if you put it like that, it’s far too harsh,” Tyler fixes a cuff. “Your mother provided me a place of warmth, solitude, and love for a short time. It’s something I’ll never forget. I regret the hurt Nancy and I inflicted on each other, but I don’t regret you.”

Tyler watches and waits for a response. His son shifts in his seat and rolls his neck, eyes never leaving his plate.

“Has she,” Tyler tilts his head, “hurt you this way?”

“No, but I broke her trust.”

“You cheated?”

“Never. But we have a lot to work on.”

Tyler might order some bourbon tonight to drink in place of his son and the mopey demeanor.

“I’m all ears whenever you need me. But if there is as much love between you two as I saw earlier this year, then you’re sure to gain in back. That doesn’t go away.”

Miguel takes a deep breath and Tyler believes that some of the shadows on his face disappear.

The meal continued, and the people around them continued their quiet chatter.

“Could you do me a favor?” Miguel asks as they both clean their plates.

Tyler lights up, “Anything.”

“Don’t tell my mom about this?”

Tyler thinks back to the unpleasant things Conchata had to say about her son’s girlfriend and quietly agrees that it’s for the best of she’s out of the loop.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

GymRat!Miguel who walks up to the festival wearing one of the shirts you gave him for his birthday.

It was an impulsive decision because now that he’s here, he’s wondering if seeing it on him will upset you.

The festival is partially outside and inside, a mix of games, concessions, and small rides for students to enjoy.

He walked under the pumpkin and bat-shaped balloons, and fake smoke from a cauldron moved past him.

It smelled like sour candy apples, and marshmallows. Booths were all around the campus grass. He walked past them slowly, not interested but searching for something.

The turnout was nice for a night when he figured people would be out partying. There were a lot of students walking in and out.

A game caught his eye as he neared the entrance to the student center. It’s a Shoot Out booth with the ducks replaced with black cats and the gun switched to tiny ghost bean bags to match the theme. There’s a giant white bunny with an X for lips, a blue dress, and a bow on its ear.

It’s so you that he couldn’t resist.

The student volunteer told him he had three chances this round to knock out twenty cats for the bunny.

“Everyone’s been gunning for it, but this game is pretty hard!”

Miguel nodded in understanding.

If he focused enough, the bunny could be his.

On his first try, he knocked out thirteen cats, much to the volunteer’s surprise.

“Woah! You’re pretty good! Did you wanna grab anything from this tier?”

There was student association merch and a shirt with the college logo.

Miguel rolled his sleeves up, “No, I’m going to try for the plushie again.”

The second time, he knocked down the last cat with just a few seconds left on the timer.

The girl running the booth smiled with her eyebrows nearly merging to the top of her head in shock.

“I-I guess that means you win the bunny!”

She handed it to him with a lull of awe.

He muttered a quiet thanks and turned towards the doors with fake spiderwebs dangling off them.

There was music, a sign to go to a haunted hallway, and even more tables with food.

He wonders if you would have gotten scared walking through scary attractions with him. You would probably hold his hand as tight as he’s holding the belly of this rabbit.

Scanning the room, he doesn’t catch a glimpse of you anywhere.

Looking down at the little white face in his hands, he started to think he wasted the hour or so he’d been here.

Walking to the table of free cookies, he took a frosted Frankenstein in his hand and bit a bolt off.

He felt like a lost kid as he floated from table to table to stall.

Maybe he should give up. You were probably promoting this event for Jess.

GymRat!Miguel who was finishing off his fifth mummy-in-a-blanket when he saw you leaving the haunted hallway.

The first thing he noticed is the long, blue cardigan falling off your shoulders. The end of it is trailing after you as you run out.

There’s a grin on your face and an air in your steps, something he missed seeing.

The next thing he noticed was that you weren’t wearing your necklace anymore.

Then a hand pulled it up on your shoulders and slid back down your arm.

A guy is standing next to you and laughing as if you’ll give him money for doing so.

He’s tall. He looks like he could be built, too.

It’s like a slap in the face, worse than when you pushed him away.

Looking down, Miguel saw your hand in his, clinging tight. You smile at the guy and reach up to get something out of his hair.

Miguel thinks that there was nothing wrong with his hair. There was nothing to smile about either.

The guy’s hands touch you in places where Miguel has embraced. His fingers were covering the same neck he’d put his head in. His thumbs ran over the apples of your cheeks, the same ones that used to crowd his lips.

You lean into the guy’s chest and say something that he can’t hear.

His stomach makes an angry lurch and he feels that orange being shift to a green one. It’s clawing at him, pulling at his mind.

This wasn’t how today was supposed to end. You weren’t supposed to cling to some random guy. You weren’t supposed to be with someone else.

Miguel turns when he leans down towards you, chest burning. What he didn’t see was not true to him. What he didn’t know was not reality.

GymRat!Miguel stormed out of the building, and images of you happy with someone else faded onto the inside of his eyelids.

The material of his sweater was scratching against his skin as he made his way back to the festival entrance.

Everything was too much. The people were too loud, the lamps were too bright, and the music playing over the speakers sucked.

His nose started to twitch and he wondered why did festival food have so much damn sugar.

Someone nearly hits the ground as he pushes past them, a confused noise hitting the air, but he doesn’t feel inclined to stop.

GymRat!Miguel who almost breaks free from what feels like a harmful joke when Xina spots him.

“Hey!” She ran over to him, leaves crunching against her boots. She’s wearing the varsity jacket he bought her years ago. “Leaving already?”

“Yeah, I,” he stopped when he thought he heard your laugh somewhere deep in the festival. “I’m not feeling too good. Think I’m gonna go back to my dorm.”

“Oh, do you have a fever? The weather did drop out of nowhere,” her hand lifted, fingers twitching like she wanted to see for herself.

She hesitates, scared he’ll blow away.

When her fingers press into his neck, he just wants to cry. It felt like when she caught him crying under the trees on the playground or when he’d show up at his grandma’s house with a chubby face full of tears.

He covers her hand for a second, just one, then pushes it away.

If he talks about it, he’ll break into pieces.

“Here,” he shoved the bunny into her hands. The dress is wrinkled, and the bow is a bit lopsided.

Xina’s eyes grow as sees it. The smile on her lips is familiar, “Thank you. I love it.”

Her mouth opens as if she wants to say more, but Miguel starts first.

“Glad you like it. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, ok. Get back safe, Hare-Hare.”

He heads towards his building empty-handed.

GymRat!Miguel who is in denial.

He’s moved past his brain making up you being at the Halloween festival and was now choosing to believe that it was a friend.

The tiny Gabriel on his shoulder was telling him that you had moved on. You had a new boyfriend, so he needed to move on as well—or stop moping about you.

He was choosing to ignore him for now.

It’s been another week since he saw you. Thanksgiving was on its way and he hasn’t been focused in a single class.

At a time when he really needed Tempest to update him, she told him to step back and recenter himself. Something about him not being level-headed.

He didn’t care.

The point of no return was truly here as he stood in front of the elevator in the art building.

A bag of food was sweating in his palm, and the two drinks were seeping into his hoodie, but he would regret it forever if he didn’t try talking to you again before the semester was over.

He’s doing something he told himself he wouldn’t do, but he couldn’t help that he still knew your schedule by heart. Taking a chance on you sticking around for studio hours was all that he had.

GymRat!Miguel who got to the right floor and was happy to see a student leaving the room.

The lights in the hallway were still on and music came from down the hall.

Miguel walked down, peering in every door, leaving once he couldn’t see you or when the people inside gave him weird looks.

GymRat!Miguel who walks into the last studio in the hallway with quiet steps.

Your canvas is almost bigger than you, the top of it covering you as you moved your brush across it.

You had headphones on, star molds stuck on the sides of them.

Miguel sat the food down on the table, moving like a stealthy agent.

Your sleeves were rolled up to your elbows, yet paint was still on them despite your efforts. You looked tired, but god, you were still overwhelmingly gorgeous to him.

He stepped closer. Slowly, step by step, coming into your peripheral.

“Why are you here?”

Miguel paused mid-walk, face like a puppy who got caught.

He should have thought this through more.

“I wanted to see you,” he holds his hands before him. It’s not making him any smaller, but it brings a slight comfort. “Brought some food.”

“’M not hungry.”

An apology is his first instinct, but the sound of your stomach growling speaks for him.

You refuse to look at him, face warm.

“It’s your favorite. Come eat, please.”

Taking off your headphones, you sighed.

“Fine.”

GymRat!Miguel who has to pinch himself to stop staring at you.

You weren’t just tired, you were exhausted. Your eyes drooped as you bit into your fries, and your movements were sluggish.

You didn’t ask for his extra sauce like you usually did. You didn’t even try to steal his fries.

“How have you been?” he asks instead of digging himself further into the sad hole of his heart.

Your eyes flick at him over your glasses and back to your food.

“Really, Miguel?”

“Y-yes? I’m always wondering how you are.”

“Then you should know how I’ve been already, then.”

Miguel faltered.

“You’re not very subtle, you know? I could see you pacing back and forth around campus.”

“Oh,” he slurped his drink nervously.

“And I saw you at the festival, too.”

He almost punctured the styrofoam in his hand.

“So, you’ve been fine is what you’re telling me. I’m gla-” he choked on the words. “I see you’ve…met someone.”

“He was just a friend. You could have said ‘hi’ then, if you really wanted to speak with me.”

“Didn’t look like a friend,” left Miguel’s mouth before he could stop it.

You hummed, eyebrows raised, and a click sound from your teeth. “Oh, but now do you see how that feels?” You started to untie your apron.

“I didn’t mean for that to come out in that way. I came here to just talk.”

“About what? How you didn’t actually cheat on me? How you didn’t mean for any of this to happen? How you’re sorry you got caught?”

He bit his tongue.

That was almost what he wanted to say.

“About us,” he said as you rolled your eyes. “I still love you, and it’s killing me not to be with you. This is as plain and simple as I can say it. I’ll say it over and over and over again until you hear me.”

“Miguel,” your voice puffed out, weary and broken, “you cheated on me with your best friend and now you’re here trying to spin this and pull me back. I-I have dignity. As much as I want to pretend like what’s been happening this semester is meaningless, I can’t.”

“And I’m telling you that I would never do that you. Not in a million years, not in this lifetime, would I ever purposely hurt you in that way. Baby, please. Listen to me!”

“I see the way you are with her,” your words fall after his. “I remember the texts. There is something there. I don’t know if I can compete with that and I’m not trying to. So, if you want to be with her, then do that, but leave me out of it.”

Miguel is quick to grab your hands as you try to turn away, “Fine. There is something there.”

You try to yank yourself from him again, the pain from October 13th filling you again, but his hands are faster this time.

“There’s a girl who used to threaten to beat me up if I didn’t defend myself against bullies. There’s a girl who used to trade collectible cards with me in secret because her parents didn’t allow her to obsess over junk, and the girls at school thought it was lame. There’s a trust built long over a decade that has been broken. I do care about her, as I would do with any friend, but you have to understand that I care about you, too.”

“Then why didn’t you show that?” you whispered, tears leaving your eyes. “It felt humiliating, Miguel. That night, I felt disgusting. Like you were just throwing me away. I kept thinking that you lied to me about everything, that you were indulging in something that you never really wanted.”

Miguel reached to hold your face, thumbs sliding your tears away, heart breaking.

“Lo siento, amor. Hm?” he wanted to take your pain away and place it onto himself if it meant that you didn’t talk like this. “It’s not true. What we have created is not some trial run. I love you so deeply, that I was going insane. Knowing that you thought otherwise is painful to hear. The buildup to that night is a misunderstanding. You have to know that.”

You take a breath, “How could I know?”

Miguel stared at your face and thought the same.

He’s been yelling trust, trust, trust and when he thinks back to your few interactions with Xina, it clicks that you truly had no foundation to trust.

“If I had just been better, you would have known.”

Like you said, Xina had walked all over him.

“So what now?” you asked, and pull your sweater over your fingers.

Miguel blinked, “I was hoping to start over? Restart?”

“I can’t,” you said immediately and Miguel tensed. “You entering my life has given me far more ups than downs, but when those downs come, they can be brutal.”

“So, you don’t want me to be your boyfriend, again?”

You shake your head and he felt like it was his turn to cry.

“I want action. Show me that something like this won’t happen again. We can sit here and tell each other promises until we’re blue in the face, but what do those promises mean if one person or thing can ruin it.”

“I’ll do that. I’ll do anything.”

You brush his hair back and wrap his arms around your waist to settle in this feeling. Your thumbs traveled from his hairline to curves of his ears down to his jaw. They rub circles into his skin, slow and rhythmic.

“Have you talked with Xina? Has she confessed to what you’re telling me she has done?”

He shakes his head softly, afraid to break the scene.

You laugh, small and quiet, then unwrap his arms from around you. You go back to your canvas and start to scrape at the glass of the taboret. Miguel was so in a trance, that almost didn’t notice the switch.

“I’m going to talk with her,” Miguel stated across the room.

You wave a hand in the air, unmoved.

He followed you as you go to the mineral spirits bucket to soak your brushes.

“Baby-“

“As far as I’m concerned, you shouldn’t talk to me until whatever you two have going on is fixed. Don’t know who 'baby' is.”

You walk to the sink and turn the water on. Miguel was right behind you and grabbing the dish soap before you can.

“And I will talk to her,” Miguel sayid. You reach for the soap and he holds it out of your reach, petulant. “Baby.”

You give him an irritated look and pinch his neck. He makes a hurt noise and gives you the jug.

“Action. Miguel.”

GymRat!Miguel who waited until you’ve packed everything up.

He didn’t mean for this to turn into him teasing you, but he couldn’t help it. He was getting his fill while he still could.

“At least let me walk you back to your dorm,” Miguel sayid, picking up the wet paper towels you’ve been throwing at him.

“No, thanks. I have a date. I don’t need you changing up my energy.”

Miguel’s smile dropped.

“You do?”

“His name starts with an R, ends with an E. He’s super sweet. Sturdy.”

Reese? Reggie? Raye? Ronnie?

“I see,” Miguel’s heart plummets. “Your friend wasn’t just that.”

“Mm-hm. We’re still testing the waters, but I don’t think he’ll disappoint me.”

Miguel didn’t know what to say. He was nothing but bold, though.

“Who’s to say that…guy won’t hurt you?”

Who’s to say that he would treat you better than Miguel?

You pull the straps of your back over your shoulders and Miguel wants to hold it for you.

A snicker leaves you, “Because he’s made of plastic and is designed of pleasure.”

“Oh.”

“Bye. Enjoy your Thanksgiving.”

Miguel stood and watched you go, wondering if this was progress.

GymRat!Miguel whose bedroom was filled with the chatter of his friends once more.

Friendsgiving was always fun.

GymRat!Miguel who thinks that Lyla is a terrible teammate.

“You’ve got be doing this on purpose,” Miguel groaned as Lyla’s Yoshi pumps the pedal incorrectly.

“I don’t know what you’s talking about!” Her giggles float across the room as saw Miguel get more and more frustrated.

Winston and Tempest were laser-focused, their Monty Mole and Peach following a stead 1-2 rhythm to get their cart across the track.

“Lyla!” Miguel yells as her Yoshi stumbles back. “You’re selling me. You want me to lose.”

The mini-game ends with Tempest and Winston high-fiving each other and Miguel yelling at Bowser to pick his head up.

GymRat!Miguel who laughed as he watched Winston reenact his band director, nearly breaking his neck.

“I’ve never seen a bald man somersault on grass until that day.”

GymRat!Miguel who, full off of food and peach cobbler that Tempest made, stared at the bag of gummies that she placed in the middle of their huddle.

“We can just try this tonight. We’re safe with each other,” Tempest whispered.

“You guys are horrible role models,” Miguel said.

“I don’t know. That blue one is speaking to me. It reminds me of Scooby Doo,” Winston mumbled.

Lyla motioned across one, “Maybe we can cut it in half.”

“That defeats the purpose though. These barely have anything in them,” Tempest complained.

“Says you,” Miguel quipped. “You just called me about a cherry bong the other night.”

“Ok, but wasn’t it cute?”

GymRat!Miguel who nearly jumped out his skin when his door slams open.

Everyone except him shoves their gummy in their mouth with lightening speed. Miguel just holds his awkwardly as he turns to see him mom standing in the doorway.

“Yeah, ma?” he says. He chose to ignore Winston who is over exaggerating, lips smacking.

“Mijo! I have a surprise for you guys!”

GymRat!Miguel who sat awkwardly on his rug, running his wrapped gummy in his palm.

Lyla was practically in Tempest’s lap, tapping at her phone. Tempest is looking around their circle expectantly.

Winston started tapping a fast beat on his arm.

Miguel is looking everywhere except in front of him where Xina was sitting with her chin tucked into her knees.

“It’s good to see you again,” Winston said, forever the peacemaker.

Xina relaxed a bit, “You guys, too. I’ve missed this.”

Miguel saw Tempest softening up a bit at Xina’s words.

“When is stuff gonna hit?” Lyla barks out to which Tempest elbows her.

Xina cleared her throat, “Actually can we talk, Miguel?”

“Yeah, shoot.”

Xina looked around them, “Alone?”

GymRat!Miguel who was standing across from Xina in the office-turned-bedroom that his parents barely used.

“Did my mom invite you?” Miguel asked.

“Actually, Tempest did.”

Miguel raises his eyebrows and nods. He didn’t expect that but he’s not mad at it.

Xina was antsy, arms hiding themselves in the sleeves folded across her body. Miguel stayed quiet.

“So, things between us haven’t been exactly smooth sailing lately.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Miguel looked down at the shark slippers you bought him last year.

“And I have some things that I want to explain to you.”

Miguel raised his eyes expectantly. Xina was mirroring his posture, but her face looked uncomfortable, conflicted.

Her eyes flicker over his before she covered her face and huffs, “这太难了.” (This is so hard.)

“What’s hard?” Miguel asks, pulling together the few times Xina taught him anything. He sat down, hoping it would relax her more.

Her hands drop as she blinks at the ceiling, “Everything. When it comes to you, everything just gets overwhelming.”

“As in?”

She looked at him in disbelief, “As in I’m doing silly shit, again.”

A pause in her words comes as they hear laughter from down the hall.

“Last year was so surreal. I did everything right. My mailbox was full of acceptance letters. My mom finally genuinely smiled at me for the first time in what felt like years. I moved so far away from my parents that I felt like that string that kept me attached to them had broken. I had fun. I went to my first party and got so drunk that when I woke up, I was on the porch of a frat. I made friends who could relate to me more than anyone else. I made acquaintances who could have never gotten into that school without their parents painting the campus with money. Still, I worked my ass off and got kicked out because one of them hid drugs under my seat.”

Miguel’s breath hitched, but Xina continued.

“It was my word against kids whose parents could have the school shut down within minutes. My dad was so angry at me that he pretended like I wasn’t in his home. And my mom just,” her leg started to bounce. “She helped me pack up some things and sent me to go live with my aunt for the summer. It wasn’t until she dropped me off at the airport that whispered to me that she loved me. That she was proud of me. That it was ok to make mistakes.”

“I cried like a baby for half of the flight. And it wasn’t until I got to customs that I realized that I should have called you. You always knew what to tell me no matter what the situation was and I just disappeared. Everything came back tenfold and I missed you so much. So when I saw you again, it was like I fell back into my old habits. I thought ‘I’m finally going to do it!’ but would chicken out and relieve that stress. I was kind of hoping that my tipsy self would have more confidence.”

“Because a drunk tongue speaks a sober mind?” Miguel hummed.

Xina finally laughed, “Are you 40 or something? Yeah. Exactly.”

Miguel blinked and looked up at her, “So tell me what your sober mind wants to say, Xina.”

Xina’s eyes lowered, “That I. I feel like I lose myself when I’m around you. It’s why I acted the way I did. It’s why I overstepped.”

His heart picked up as he registered her words.

“I like you so much, Miguel. More than I can bear. More than I’d like to admit. More than a friend.”

dividers by: @adornedwithlight 🩵

a/n: Please don't be mad at me. 😵‍💫 Also please watch your tone in the comments. 🤠 Be very mindful, very demure.

The taglist is full, so if you would like to be informed of future updates, check my blog occasionally (💀) or subscribe to the story on AO3!

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @emelie-s-h @lake-lili

@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting

@flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02

@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies

@samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu

@urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms

@love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx

@lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @cl3stevu

@ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm @snails-doodles22

@questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003 @calig0sto @tatatida @haveclayeveryday

@corpsenightmarebride @earth2fae @maiyart @feegrh32 @darkstarlight82

@ladysimp @sonicbutbutter @relatednative @slowlyshycomputer @nuetralcolorsenthusiast

@maxlinpetersen @beyondstarlight @Madeofstar-dust @leoeloo @just-simpins-blog

@poisamm @thequeenreaders @tinybirdhidedout @aly29a2001 @mimi-sanisanidiot

@snakelore @pigeonmama @darkstalight82 @prettygirleli @koikohib

@jayskookies @xo-zeze @planetxella @thedevax @stressed-cherry

#love lab drabbles 💊#GymRat!Miguel 💪🏾#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara #x chubby reader #x plus size reader #miguel o’hara x plus size reader #miguel o’hara x chubby reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x plussize!reader #miguel o'hara x chubby!reader #x fem reader

237 notes · View notes

landograndprix · 1 year ago

Text

「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part vii

✧.* you've finally secured your well deserved p1 after months of suffering with red bull and while you celebrate it the right way, love is in the air and everybody sees it now.

✧.* when i think about my muppets i think about this song, should i make like a playlist of songs that remind me of this fic, give y'all the vibes ive been having? 👀 spelling mistakes add character, don't mind them 🥰 this is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list feel free to ask me again so I can take a look at it. Taglist is open Love ya ❤️

✧.* prev part - next part

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

liked by landonorris, milouberger and 453,789 others

y/nusername I'd like to thank my parents— p1 baby!🏆

tagged: mclaren

view all 742 comments

y/nloveee yes baaaaabbyyyyy 🤩🤩

norrizz one big fat fuck you to red bull!

adam_norris_pure_electric amazing race, amazing driver!🥇

carlandooo oh my gosh, I'm dead, Adam out here supporting his future daughter in law 😭

norry4 stop it 😭

ricky78 bring it home y/n!

natewhite this girls good, she should try racing in f1..

carlossainz55 well deserved! 🔥

chilisainz wish I had a supportive ex boyfriend 💀

y/nlandooo we're so back with our 1-2!

yourmomsuser super proud of you! 🥰

milouberger back where you belong!

hamilt44n girl, shut up..as if you didn't try to push her off the track halfway..🤨

redbullgirl come back please, perez is a joke 😢

landonorris that's my girlfriend 😍

bott_ass we were aware 😂

landonorris you got any plans tonight? wanna celebrate?

landosmclaren HOWLING ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED

maxfewtrell mega race 🙌

➽────────────────────────❥

landonorris posted on their story

➽────────────────────────❥

cecilemoulin posted to their story

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

liked by landonorris, riabish and 689,872 others

y/nusername ending an amazing weekend with my favorite lil' guy 🧡

tagged: landonorris

view all 878 comments

norrizz honestly such a power couple!!

sharl16 oh they in love love huh?

bott_ass not the after sex selfie 😭

bananaclerc I was looking for this comment 😭

y/nlando y/n's finally showing more of her and lando on here 🥺

mrsnorris 🤮 get someone your own age 🤮

cecilemoulin I just know y'all were late because you've been watching tiktok's in bed all morning..

y/nusername Cecile thirst trap edits go hard

carlandooo y'all think y/n finally realised she likes this man? Seemed pretty one sided to me for a hot minute 😂

ceciley/n I think Cecile said in an interview that THEY aren't used to dating younger dudes and that she felt out of place for the first few weeks..pretty sure she meant herself and y/n 😉

carlandooo CECILE IS DATING SOMEONE?

ceciley/n yeah..max fewtrell? Girl where have you been? 😂

carlandooo under a fucking rock apparently! Wow, these girls really said young, cute and british? Yes ma'am 🥰 so real of them

ceciley/n a couple of besties dating another couple of besties 😂

hamilt44n where are Carlos and Pierre now? You think they gave up? :')

landonorris favourite lil' muppet 🧡

➽────────────────────────❥

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @glow-ish

Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @judespoisons @buckybarnessweetheart @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @jjsprobablywrong @babyvinnie @mishaandthebrits @hockeyboysarehot

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x oc #lando norris fanfic #lando norris image #lando norris smau #lando norris au #lando norris #lando x reader

1K notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 13 days ago

Text

Day fourteen of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: mentions of past grooming/abuse prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think your life might be a little bit insane,” Tim says, now increasingly certain that Kon is just a living weirdness magnet and it is therefore his fault that every single Young Justice mission so far has been objectively buck-wild and borderline deranged. Previously he was just blaming the concentration of teenage superheroes with very different power sources and specialties and personalities all stubbornly jammed into one even more stubborn team, but “previously” did not include all the necessary data or any stories about gargoyle-riding supermodels possessed by dead gunslingers.

Tim has heard some stories in the community, for sure, but that is a story.

“I mean, Hex and Grokk aren’t that weird, are they?” Kon asks with a shrug. “Not any weirder than the Event Horizon was, anyway.”

“The what?” Tim asks, because Kon definitely said that like it was something’s name and not a metaphor for something or an actual event horizon.

“Oh, sorry, the Event Horizon was this club I used to hit up with some buds,” Kon says as he snags three more grilled cheese(s?) off the stack and stacks them to bite through all three at once like some kind of unholy and incredibly greasy and buttery club sandwich or something. Tim is somehow morbidly fascinated, vaguely grossed out, and sort of charmed all at once. “It was always moving, was the thing, so there was this handstamp thing we all had that we used to teleport over whenever we wanted to party. Neverending space rave, basically, so you didn’t have to worry about hours or last call or anything. Club kinda got obliterated, though, so I actually dunno know if the teleport trick still works or where it’d send me if I tried usin’ it now?”

It is definitely Kon’s fault that Mxyzptlk happened to them, Tim decides.

“Oh, cool,” he says, and because after tonight he officially does not trust anyone who Kon has spent time with in a party environment, much less at an intergalactic rave–“Do you still hang out with them? Anybody I’d have heard of?”

“Uh, not really. And . . . I don’t think so?” Kon shrugs. “Sparx, maybe you mighta. Otherwise it was Aura, Kaliber, Hero, and, uh–Half-Life. Also Hero’s dog was kinda around. Or maybe Hero was, like, Rex’s . . . uh, pet, or whatever? Or they were just roommates? Situation unclear there, honestly.”

“How is that an unclear situation?” Tim asks with a frown, a little confused by that one. That’s not–

“Rex was, like, this super-soldier war hero mystic type, and like, he could talk and whatever, so I don’t really get what was going on there,” Kon clarifies between bites of grilled cheese, which clarifies absolutely nothing. “I guess he was a WWII vet, but he drank from the Fountain of Youth or something? Also went to the moon once and used to be in the circus. Super-weird dude. Or dog, whichever.”

. . . . . . it is definitely, definitely Kon’s fault that Mxyzptlk happened to them, Tim amends.

“Never mind, I get it now,” he says, and Kon laughs, and then–hesitates, for a moment, and suddenly seems very interested in the last couple bites of his unholy abomination of a grilled cheese stack.

“Hero was cool,” he says, his tone a little–off. Tim pauses himself, and wonders why. And also wonders if this “Hero” guy is actually somebody he needs to put on his supervillain hit list, considering.

“Was that seriously his codename?” he asks, and Kon grins.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

156 notes · View notes

winterzsurprise · 2 months ago

Text

Change My Mind [3]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 8.8k

ao3 is down so I'll update it first here. Chapter got delayed since this wasn't originally part of the roster. its currently 1am so there will be mistakes I missed but that's for future Winter's problem.

edit: please comment if you want to be added to the tag list :DD

<<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>>

__________

For a guy with his heart on his sleeves and his emotions displayed so loudly on his face like neon signs with gigantic arrows, Taehyung is an enigma.

It didn’t help that he had experience in acting, if anything it made it harder to understand him.

One moment he's supportive of your quest for a perfect husband then another, he's raging with a jealousy even the power of the thousand burning suns couldn't replicate. Even when Guwon has long disappeared, Taehyung didn't stop from hanging off of your arm when the three of you had entered your home.

In the short time they had stayed over, he made sure he was somehow close to you or having you within his sight while Jimin returned to being the sweet boy he had always presented himself as but the glint of something dark in his eyes never disappeared.

But it didn't make any sense. All of their behaviors, even Jimin, is confusing.

Taehyung had introduced a date to the group before, and had hooked up with a few people from the after-parties if the others’ words were anything to go by. Jimin is the same, although he took every chance to flirt with you at any time and everywhere, you always thought it was him being his playful self. But after last night?

You don't know.

And you hate not knowing.

To find out that Jin still liked you was shocking already, then comes this new realization—along with the impacts of Jungkook’s confession—to knock you off of your feet. You thought he had moved on like he had said years before, but last night's conversation had told you otherwise.

“That's the tenth time I've heard you sigh just this hour alone and we're only drinking coffee, what’s wrong?”

Your head shot up to meet the concerned gaze of the oldest make-up artist. Jihae is one of the original staff back from 2013, the woman who had picked you up when you tripped in front of the BigHit building crying with your bag spilled out, having been given a low grade in one of your subjects.

They were lacking in staff back then, urgently searching for another body to help with the debut look and when she saw your cosmetic bag, she tugged you inside and told you to agree with whatever they were going to ask.

Stunned, you followed the woman without question.

A month later, you dropped out of the nursing course your mother had insisted you take and pursued cosmetology.

Many times have you looked back at the memory and grimaced. It could've gone wrong, she might've been leading you into a trafficking ring but nonetheless, you're glad you had accepted it.

All because Jihae had seen you with mascara-stained tears and somehow deemed you skilled enough for the job. Up until today, you still wonder what she had seen in an emotional teenager who had comically tripped face-first in the company’s front yard, mascara running down her face and thought: ‘She’d be a good addition’.

Whatever it is, you're thankful.

“Hey, you still with us?”

Snapping out of your trance, you wearily smiled at her. “Yes I am, unnie. Just frustrated about something...”

At this, multiple heads turned to you, their stares a varying mix of curiosity and teasing. Suddenly reminded of the group lunch Jihae had proposed that day, a bonding exercise for the entire make-up artists roster, for better teamwork, she had said and internally facepalmed. You had forgotten that it wasn't just your friends sitting on the table with you and you had just aired your problem out in the open for them to hear.

Fuck Kim Taehyung and his confusing attitude. You should beat his ass next time you see him for being the catalyst to the dilemma haunting your mind.

Leaning closer to you, Nabi—another friend of yours—crossed her arms and flashed a shit-eating grin.

“Is it boy problems?”

Instantly, the table explodes into chatters, all of their questions drowning each other.

“Which one of them?”

“Did someone from Bangtan confess to you, unnie?”

“Is it Hoseok? Please say it is! I have a bet with someone from the styling department.”

“Was it Taehyung? I always thought he had a crush on you for a whi—”

“It's not any of them, please we're just friends.” You interjected before they dig further and find truth in their questions. “It's a different guy I've had two dates with.”

Never had you sounded more unsure of yourself until now and you had wished nobody had noticed. But one look around the table says differently. Your friends’ eyes glinted, all of them telling you that this discussion was far from over and you find yourself already dreading opening the groupchat once you're home. But unlike them, someone wasn't satisfied with your answer and crossed her arms from the other end of the table.

“Why so dismissive, unnie? We're all friends here, no need to be so defensive.”

Immediately, the ones closest to her snapped their heads at her with a scandalized look. Alexa was a new recruit, A half-Korean and half-Chinese who lived in the States for a better half of her life, had just joined the week before the first leg when one of the crew went into labor and had recommended her cousin as her last minute replacement until she could return.

In the short time she had been in the company, there had been whispers and none of them were positive. Rumors of an unhealthy obsession hidden beneath the skillfully applied make-up that granted her a younger and cuter appearance, hushed stories of their encounters where she'd reveal her soulmate mark—inked initials, and written on her wrist is a K.S.J, something she boasted around with a smug look, as if to imply something you refuse to entertain.

It was absurd.

Seokjin was untethered, if he got a soulmate mark out in the open, he would've screamed it on top of the world. Delighted and in cloud nine at the thought of having someone destined for him. Not to mention, it meant that he didn't need to go through any of the shit you've gone through, going through dates after dates looking for someone better to settle down with only to be met with constant disappointment at the end of the day.

(You'd also be the first to know. He would've ran to you and asked if you manifested a mark too, but for your sanity, you pushed the thought at the back of your head as soon as it came.)

To say, to imply that Seokjin’s soulmate is the kid on the side of the table, it almost made you grimace.

“Hey Alexa, I know you're just new and a foreigner but that doesn't mean we'd let you disrespect your seniors!” Minhyuk, someone who had quickly wormed into your friend group last year, had jumped to your defense.

Alexa scoffed. “I'm just saying, no need to be so secretive, unnie. Everyone in this table knows how close Bangtan is to you. Everyone is wondering if you've at least dated one of them.”

“Hey Alexa, that's a bit…”

“Why are you guys looking at me like that? I'm just saying what you're all thinking,” She looks back at you. “I've seen how they look at you, surely you've at least had a fling with someone.”

Your brows shot up, incredulous and shocked by her audacity but before you could bite back, Minhyuk stood abruptly, face darkened with pure unadulterated anger.

“Oh this—” Nabi and you were quick to tug him back down to sit.

At the commotion, everyone in the cafeteria shifted their attention to your table, inquisitive and curious of what might've set off the resident social butterfly, someone who everyone knows the name of and has been at the end of his constant kindness.

Minhyuk is a passionate soul, especially towards his job and friends. Having been kicked out for being himself, he turned to the very skill that had his father screaming expletives at him. Recommended by Jihae, who had been visiting a nearby friend at the time and was passing by his street, had found him crying in the rain, outside the gate of his family house. She had taken him home and the rest was history.

There's never been a time when you've all hung out, five emptied bottles of Sojus later, where he wouldn't be crying, thankful for the chance your eldest had given him before turning to you, sobbing loudly and hugging you and the rest of the group in a tight grip. Heart full of gratefulness for his new found family.

So there was no shock that he had been the first one to jump at the first sign of aggression towards your group.

“Everyone is looking, hyuk. Let's calm down.” Nabi whispered to him, eyes cautious and Minhyuk grunted.

“She's lucky we're in public, I would've torn her down for that comment.”

At the end of the table, Alexa scoffed, incredulous. “Are you seriously mad that I'm saying my opinion? Is it a crime to express their own opinion these days?”

“Not when it's as rude as yours.”

Jihae sighs. “Calm down the both of you. Remember that you're working right now.”

You didn't doubt that everyone in the company has speculated about your relationship with Bangtan. It's hard not to when the maknaes hang onto your words and comfortably play around with you, especially not when you have dinner at their dorm every other week so you didn't blame the newbie for being curious.

That's what you would've felt if she hadn't been going around planting ideas into people's heads that she might be Jin’s soulmate like the delusional slug she is.

You had half a mind to loosen your grip on Minhyuk and let him wipe the floor with her unnecessarily expensive work clothes.

Shrugging both your and Nabi’s arms from his, Minhyuk stands up again only to walk away from the table. Instantly, the rest of your group follows him as he marches through the gathered crowd in the cafeteria and in front of the closed elevator.

You trailed behind him, waiting for his eventual frustrated explosion as he always does after an encounter with Alexa since she was hired. Once you were all far enough, hidden away from the prying eyes of the public, he threw his head back and let out a loud, exasperated groan.

“That girl I fucking swear!” He growled as combed his long hair back. “Why did we even let her continue working after the tour?! We could've just found a better alternative, she's getting into my fucking nerves!”

Nabi sighed. “It's not like we have a final say in this, hyuk. Whether you like it or not, we'll be stuck with her until Hyuna comes back.”

“God,” He groaned. “You should've let me hit her once! I'm so tired of hearing her bullshit! Surely, you've heard the lie she's spreading around right?!”

“Like Nabi has said, we can't do anything unless it starts to hurt the reputation of the idol. She's smart for not saying it outright and somehow containing it within the styling departments.” Jihae responds with a defeated shake of her head.

The answer didn't satisfy Minhyuk, who then turned to you with a pout and wide puppy eyes before promptly stomping over and taking both your hands in his.

“Surely you can pull some strings, noona? Tattle off to Namjoon hyung or Seokjin hyung, surely one of them would do something, right?”

You almost considered his suggestion. Alexa had been grating your gears ever since she arrived to replace Hyuna. You had excused her lack of cooperation with the team for being a newbie and clumsy mistakes of haphazardly leaving her items everywhere for the stress of the new environment she was suddenly put in. But for her to go around implying Seokjin is her soulmate is another can of worms you didn't even want to open.

The mere thought of her existing on the same floor as Seokjin invokes an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach.

But unfortunately, even if you had tattled to Namjoon about her, nothing would happen since it's not too drastic of an event to fire someone over for. It's also just not a good idea overall. The tour is set next Wednesday and while Alexa doesn't cooperate with most of the team, she unfortunately got the skill to back her up. Her skills nearly compensate for her rude personality.

Almost.

“They won't fire someone over a small argument, Hyuk. Just suck it in until Hyuna returns.”

“Which will be in December after Japan,” He mulls it over before shaking his head. “Yeah no, I don't think I can tolerate her nasty ass that long.”

The elevator opens—Jihae had called it the moment they've arrived, bless her—and everyone piles in. It was a quick ride, the stylists being on the floor below the cafeteria. In a flash the metal doors parts opened and you all walked out. But before you could follow your friends back into your department, your phone vibrated from your pocket.

Slowing down, you pulled the device out and looked at who's texting you.

[13:02] Hobi: can ask you a favor [13:02] Hobi: just an itsy bitsy favor 🤏🤏 [13:02] Hobi: I promise it's harmless😁

There's also a text from Guwon not too long ago. Something you missed while you were lost in your thoughts earlier.

[12:30] Guwon: Eat your lunch soon! [13:03] You: hi sorry late reply, I was having lunch with my co-workers, couldn’t use my phone during. [13:03] You: I hope your lunch was good😁

You grimaced at how robotic your reply sounded before returning to Hoseok who had sent another text.

[13:03] Hobi: don't leave me on seen please😢 [13:03] Hobi: noona noona noona noona noona [13:04] You: hoba hoba hoba hoba hoba [13:04] Hobi: YAY [13:04] You: how can I help you? [13:05] Hobi: can you deliver lunch to hyung?😁 [13:05] Hobi: I would do it myself but I'm currently helping Seokjin hyung and Namjoon with the dance [13:06] Hobi: and we both know Yoongi hyung wouldn't eat on time if I do it [13:06] Hobi: can you do it for me?🥺 [13:06] You: sure, you guys still in the dance practice room? [13:07] Hobi: ur a life saver [13:07] Hobi: an angel in disguise [13:07] Hobi: but yes😁 [13:08] Hobi: just knock on the door when you're here😁

“Y/N?” Jihae asks and you look back up to see your group waiting for you.

“Who is it?” Nabi adds.

“Better be news of Alexa getting fired. If not, I don't want to hear it.” Minhyuk says as he crosses his arms. You shook your head and he threw his hands up in frustration.

“Got asked to help with something but I'll be back in a moment.”

With a brief goodbye, you turned back to the elevator and directed yourself to the floor where the dance practice rooms are at.

The walking distance from the elevator is not too far from the dance room but seeing five familiar teenage boys speaking in hushed whispers and hitting each other's arms in front of the vending machine just a feet away from the door easily distracted you.

If they had been crowding around the machine, you would've thought they were fighting over the last snack but instead they were all facing the same direction as your destination.

Sneaking up to the five giants, you're slowly introduced to the dilemma they were hitting and pushing each other for.

“You're the oldest, you should go and knock!”

“Just because I'm the oldest doesn't mean I should always be the first! Why are you even ordering me around?! Go ask Huening Kai instead!”

“Why me? I can't talk in Korean, I-I’m foreigner.”

“Oh don't you pull that shit on us. How are you only a foreigner when it matters?!”

“What are we talking about?”

Three shrill screams pierced through the air as the five of them jumped back, awkwardly long bodies falling against and clutching onto each other for dear life, all of them huddling onto the next body for protection. But once they recognize you, Yeonjun immediately regains composure and breaks off from the cluster to stomp over to you with his bottom lip jut out as he dramatically latches onto your arm.

“Noonaa, why would you scare us like that?!”

When you first met Yeonjun, he was standing in front of the cafeteria bar in front of the exhausted cashier and the long irritated line of workers, peering up onto the menu before looking down to count his money. He looked like a little kid lost in the sea of busy adults, painfully alone and helpless as the hungry customers behind him began to complain loudly.

He had been holding up the line as he recounted his change once more, hoping he had miscounted and that he could afford what he was eyeing. Seeing his hopeful expression crumble into defeat was enough to make you approach him and buy him lunch.

Yoongi had teased you when he found you being trailed by another kid, saying you were collecting every doe eyed kid in the company and becoming their reliable older sister. Especially when his soulmates began to follow his footsteps.

“What were you guys doing? Fighting against who gets the last chip?”

Beomgyu then ran to wrap his arms around yours, the sweetest and most innocent smile plastered on his face as the two boys began to walk you forward, the destination? The dance studio.

“You know that we love you right, noona?”

Why these kids are genuinely intimidated by your sweet Hoba is beyond you. The man screams and flinches at the smallest of bugs daring to exist two feet away from him. Still, you entertained them with a raise of an eyebrow and Yeonjun continued.

“Our favorite make-up noona, the greatest sister figure we have ever had, my savior and my salvation, our dearest credit—”

“Okay, what do you guys want?”

You all stopped in front of the dance room door. IDOL was blasting on the other side of the wall, the floor vibrating with the beat. Although muffled, you could pick up the sound of shoes squeaking against the floor and heavy footsteps accompanying the song.

“Could you pretty please knock on the door?” Beomgyu asks, pleading and also hopeful and the rest of his brothers chimed from behind you with their own versions of the request which ended up sounding like a bunch of warbled words.

“Couldn't you have done that yourselves?”

“But they're busy and J-Hope sunbae is scary.” Taehyun quietly adds behind you.

“Hoba? He's the sweetest though?”

“Okay, let's not lie to ourselves now,” Huening Kai shoots back before motioning to the door. “Just… knock and we'll handle it from there. We promise!”

“Cross our hearts.” Taehyun says, drawing a cross over his chest. The other four follow.

Dance teacher Hoseok to you is a hoax. You've never been subjected to his intense scrutiny and harsh perfectionist side, always managing to slip past or only being able to meet him outside of the workplace where he'd be far relaxed and cheerful.

Sure there's been plenty of photographic and recorded evidence posted in the group chat but you still find it hard to believe he's more frightening than the bugs that scare him off the room.

“He's not that scary, guys.”

Taehyun scoffs. “Easy for you to say.”

“Crush privileges.” Soobin quietly adds.

“What—”

The door swings open before you could ask what he meant and Jungkook steps out of the room.

In a span of a second, the memories of his drunken confession flashed before your eyes. From the moment he had entered your home with bags of snacks to the way his voice had sounded, hushed and shaky, when he asked you for a kiss.

Seeing him again outside the concert where Namjoon and Yoongi had made sure there were no contacts between the two of you, evoked a weird sense of longing within you. Having absolutely no contact with Jungkook for two days had you missing and recollecting your past memories with him. In the short amount of time you've been away, you wondered about many things.

From something as headache-inducing variations of hows and whys questioning his attraction to you to something more simple and short like ‘how is he feeling right now?’.

It was a dumb question with an obvious answer yet you wanted to know. Curiosity and anxiety clawing at your chest.

Is your friendship still okay?

Did rejecting someone this time finally ruin your entire dynamic with the group?

Should you have chosen someone like your sister had told you to do?

They have plagued your mind and haunted you in your waking days yet the moment you finally see him, your mouth dries up and your voice dies in your throat.

But before you could even muster the courage to talk to him, he turned his attention to the boys who had retreated behind you the moment the door opened and greeted them with a short bow before walking away, completely ignoring you. Pain blooms in your chest like a thorned vine wrapping and strangling your heart tighter and tighter as you watch his back disappear around the corner.

“Did sunbae just ignore noona?”

“Is that even possible?”

“I didn't hallucinate that, right?”

“Noona, are you okay?” Soobin’s concerned voice, soft and cautious, brings you back to reality and you turn to them, a precariously built smile on your face.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The five shared a look as you stepped into the studio, exposing you to the two figures laid on the floor, heaving and panting. The main topics of your thoughts were sitting at the far corner next to the black plastic table while Hoseok stood in the middle of the room, unaffected by whatever had happened and was chugging the water from the small bottle in hand.

As if he had grown a sixth sense for you, he suddenly spun around, a wide grin brightening his stern face.

“Noona!”

At this, the two men on the floor perks up. Namjoon merely waves before promptly dropping back down, Jimin and Taehyung only smiled at you, looking spent from whatever routine Hoseok had them do before turning to the two tallest. Seokjin had pushed himself up to stand and approach the black plastic table from the other end of the room where a dozen take outs were.

As Hoseok approached you, his gaze then found the cluster of five heads peeking through the sides of the entrance and laughed.

“You’ve got five ducklings following you, noona, didn't know you started collecting more after our maknaes.” He jokes before turning to the teens and waving them over. The group then spread to occupy the space in the doorway and bowed. “What can I do for you guys?”

They suddenly disappear behind the wall but you hear them hitting each other and their whisper-shouts, it took a long while before Soobin was pushed out of the shadow and forced to talk to their sunbae. The painfully shy teen shuffles over, shoulders folded forward and taking the smallest of steps forward before stuttering a bow.

A wide smile brightens Hoseok's face, endeared by the boy’s overly formal actions.

“H-Hi sunbae.”

“Hello, Soobinie.”

“We-we we're just wondering if we-we could watch you guys? Practicing dancing I mean—Not that you sunbaes need it cause you're professionals!—I mean of course you still need to practice to be better at dancing and—wait no—”

“Yah Soobin, stop embarrassing us like this!” Yeonjun scolds and immediately, the boy almost broke his neck with how face he looked over his shoulder.

“Then go do it yourself!”

“We don't mind, as long as you guys stay in a corner like good kids then we'll all be good!” Hoseok cuts in before an argument ensues.

There's a tap on your shoulder and you look over to see Seokjin standing behind you, a gentle smile playing on his plush lips, both hands hidden behind him.

There's an awkwardness that hung in the air as you both gazed into each other's eyes before he cleared his throat and began.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Yes.” You lie. Jin caught it.

Turning to face him fully, he then takes one of your hands and forces your fingers to hold the neatly folded top of a paper takeout bag.

“I've packed Yoongi’s portion here as well as an extra for you.”

“You didn't need to, I already ate.”

“I even had them order some soft tofu soup, you were craving it last week, right?”

It was sweet being loved so selflessly by him. It tasted like the sweetest nectar from the garden of Eden with a foul aftertaste once your mind reminded you of your sins against the man and the thorned tendrils of guilt coiled tighter around your chest, its sourness easily overlapping the sweetness of his love.

After Jungkook pretending you didn't exist earlier, having Jin, someone who you didn't even know still admired you all these years while you had messed around with many faces and came to work with some of their marks on your skin, expressing his care had you almost bursting at the seams.

It enrages you thinking about Alexa going around spreading her bullshit spiel about being Jin’s soulmate. As if she deserved a morsel of his attention.

Nobody deserves Seokjin, not even you.

“Thank you Jinnie, but I already ate.” You then remembered your promise to return to your friends soon. “And Jihae is expecting me back immediately.”

“Coffee and toast is not lunch.” He deadpans as he takes your hand and forces it to close around the pack. “Just eat it with Yoongi, he'd be happy to be able to eat with someone and I’ll handle Jihae noona.”

“How the hell did you know what I had for lunch?”

Shock crossed over his face and he brought a hand over his mouth. “I was right? I just had a hunch on what you ate.”

“That’s a bit creepy, old man.”

“Maybe it’s a soulmate mark manifesting.” He shrugs but you doubt he meant it in a joking way.

“You’re way past the age, give it up hyung.”

You both turned to the door at Jungkook’s voice. Like earlier, he had strode in without acknowledging your presence, something Seokjin had noticed immediately. His eyes slid to the five boys tentatively pushing each other to the empty corner of the studio before looking back at their youngest.

“How could you insult me like this? I fed you with my hands, you should be addressing me formally with a full 90° bow!”

“I should’ve bitten your hands at least once back then.” Jungkook jokingly muses.

Before you could witness their banter explode, there’s a tug on your shirt and you spun around to face Hoseok who had nudged his head to the door. Jin had already marched towards the maknae before you could even thank him so you left.

Once you were both outside the studio, Hoseok closed the door behind and hugged you.

“Wh-what is this?”

“A thank you hug for being the sacrifice and feeding the grumpy dragon instead.” He says with a laugh but you knew what he was trying to do.

“I’m fine, Hoba. I didn’t expect us to be buddy buddy again after what happened.”

He sighed.

“He still shouldn’t have done that. I’m sure Seokjin hyung will talk to him about it later.”

Stepping back, you shook your head. “No need, I understand why he’s acting like that.”

His eyes regarded your face for a moment before pulling you back in for a hug and nuzzling his head on top of yours. “You don’t have to defend him noona, he’s acting like a child. It's our duty as his hyungs to fix that up.”

“Please don’t. It feels like you’re taking sides, he might think it's unfair.”

He laughs. “Are you kidding? ‘Cause from what I’m seeing, he’s being a petulant child. He should handle the rejection with more grace when it's his fault he’s in this predicament. You know Seokjin hyung warned him, right?”

“He told me when he and Tae took him home.”

“Then you should know better than defend him.” You opened your mouth to refute but he pressed a finger to your lips. “Don't start. He's not the same sixteen years old we had to raise back then, he needs correcting.”

With two hands on your shoulders, he then spun you around and began to push you towards the elevator, leaving no room for an argument.

Once he had led you back to the locomotive, he briefly stepped in to push the correct button for the production floor and stepped back and waved as the elevator wall slowly closed to a shut.

“Now go feed hyung and yourself before you go back to work. Thank you again noona and see you later.

“Special delivery for a grumpy hairless cat!”

A beat.

Then came a grumbled: “Come in.”

Punching the proper strings of numbers on the door code, you open the door to the genius lab to find Yoongi sitting in front of his computer, one ear off of his headphones as he goes back to a specific second again and again.

Situating yourself on the couch next to the door, you place the paper bag on the coffee table and slowly unload all its contents, hoping its smell is enough to deter him from his work just for a second.

Taking one of the containers, you open it to see bulgogi generously sprinkled on top of rice. The savory smell of the dish wafting out almost immediately, and Yoongi visibly perks up from his table; if perking up meant him temporarily stopping his incessant clicking and head tilting a little to the side.

“Is it all bulgogi?”

Placing down the container, you opened the other one to reveal the same dish except this time with fried rice.

“Yeah, you want fried rice or no?”

“Whatever you like less.” He grumbled as he returned to his work.

“That's not a proper answer.”

“Just take whatever you want, I like either.” He muttered.

Staring at the food on the table, you found yourself at a crossroads. The fried rice looks more appetizing than the plain white rice on the other container but you've had enough sodium for the week, having challenged Taehyung, Jimin and Jin to who can eat more ramyeon in one sitting the day before the concert.

But today just doesn't feel like a plain rice type of day.

But fried rice isn't healthy.

“Just choose please, I don't know what I want either.” You groaned out, frustrated.

With a grunt, the man took off his headphones and turned to face you before maneuvering himself closer to the table and picking up the container with the plain rice.

“Stop thinking so much about what is healthy or not,” He remarked as he took a pair of chopsticks from the paper bag. “I could hear your thoughts even with my headphones on and my back turned.”

“Then why tell me to choose if you already knew?”

Yoongi only shrugged as he took his first bite, prompting you to take yours. He seems to mull over something as he chews, staring at the food on the table for a while before placing the container down and leaving the room without a word.

You had learned not to question his confusing actions throughout the years, even then you couldn't help but be bewildered.

When he returned, he was carrying two drinks in one hand. Sprite and Kombucha. Settling back on his chair, he placed down the bottle of Kombucha in front of him before opening the can of sprite and placing it in front of you.

“I don't have any straws on me so you'll have to just chug it.”

People don't usually notice it but you think Jin and Yoongi are more similar in how they show their affections, just in different volumes. Seokjin’s care is always voiced out, always asking whether you want something or not and offering to do or make it for you while Yoongi just somehow always knows what you want and does it wordlessly. Both of them are always willing to provide.

If you had asked them for something as ludicrous as fried cotton candy with melted cheese on top, Jin would complain and express his disgust openly, ranting about the strenuous process while holding the handle of the pan and a spatula in the other while Yoongi would cook it without questioning your sanity.

Either way, it never fails to make your chest warm.

“Thank you, Yoongs.”

He suddenly takes a huge bite, bringing the container close to his face before humming out his response, easily flustered as ever.

You both eat your food in silence. With years of friendship under your belt, you have learned to enjoy the serenity Yoongi brings. It had been rough at the start, his quietness matched with his stoic expression had often led to misunderstandings where you often thought he thinks of you badly for being close to his brothers, especially after Jin’s confession.

He had confronted you once he heard it from Namjoon—who had immediately tattled onto his hyung after you had told him not to tell anyone—, saying he simply had problems expressing himself. You could remember how his hands, despite being entangled with each other, shook with his voice, could recall how he had forced himself to hold eye contact with you when he always had difficulties in holding one.

It was thoughtful and that was the first time you had felt the tingles of warmth in your chest. Teenage you had her feet swept off by a stuttering mess of a guy with eye contact issues.

Despite Jin being the first in the group to confess, Yoongi was the first to touch your heart.

“Why are you looking at me like that?’

You tilt your head. “Like what?”

A conflict of emotion crossed his eyes as he struggled to find the words but before he could, your phone vibrated from your pocket.

[13:54] Guwon: I'm at the cafe close to your building

You almost choked on your spit, surprised by his message and Yoongi hurriedly put his food down to pat your back. His office was on the other side of the city, why would he drive so far just to get some coffee with you during work days?

Love, a voice answers and you immediately waved it off.

There was no way he had fallen in love with you in such a short time. You have been on two dates with him yet he hadn't asked you to be his girlfriend when there's been multiple times throughout those days and nights he had the chance to do so.

During nights where you'd restlessly toss around on your bed, you found yourself facing one more problem outside of your friends.

You didn't notice when it started when Guwon began to make your stomach churn and it bothers you to the nines at how you were being suspicious of him.

Guwon is a genuinely nice guy with a legit and grand background from what you learned throughout the short time you've been hanging out, his case stories of helping out women stuck in abusive relationships and bringing justice to those the law has failed once proven true when you've typed his name on Naver. The man didn't deserve the doubt twisting in your stomach nor the aversion you were slowly gaining towards him.

Your conflicting feelings surrounding your friends' confessing and odd behaviors shouldn't be affecting your relationship with the man you will marry at some point yet it ended up doing so.

There was something foul and bitter simmering in your guts these days whenever you force yourself to think about him during your time. It burns like bile and tasted like betrayal, almost like unfaithfulness; you try not to think hard on why you feel this way but it's hard not to when Jimin and Taehyung's jealousy keeps flashing behind your eyelids with every blink.

[13:55] You: Oh wow, which one? [13:55] Guwon: The one on the left side, Areum Cafe. [13:55] Guwon: Are you free to get a cup of coffee with me? [13:56] Guwon: Sorry for springing this up on you [13:55] Guwon: I missed you🙁

“Who is it?”

“It's Guwon,” You say, scratching your head. “He says he's at the cafe down the road and wants to meet up.”

Yoongi placed down his food and stared at you, long and hard. Cat-like eyes narrowed and observing as he leaned back on his chair. You feel his eyes regard your body language before sighing.

“I assume you need help getting out? I'm not as… bold as the younger ones but I think I can help… somehow”

His appearance would surely help tamper down the discomfort that had bloomed with the recent revelations. Yoongi is intimidating as he is caring, having him next to you would ensure you a shorter time spent with the man, as well as prohibit him from pulling another surprise kiss on you.

But why are you so uncomfortable spending time with Guwon anyways?

You didn't have any problems before, even wanted to sleep with him the night prior so why now?

“How’d you know I need help?”

“You looked like your mother just told you to come to another date.”

Immediately, you ironed out the frown you didn't realize had marred your face.

“I thought you would've been delighted you've finally met your match?”

“I-I am.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue, the sound echoing louder in the silence of the room. “Try again. A little more sure this time.”

You sighed and relented, knowing the man wouldn't let you take a step out of the door if you lied to him again.

“Everything just started feeling wrong for some reason.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, eyes widening with surprise. “How so?”

“You know, when Jimin and Taehyung came over last night to make sure I got home safe, they were acting strange towards Guwon.” When he made no move to respond, you continued. “When Guwon suddenly kissed me, Taehyung looked… scary. Jimin too, if you can believe it.”

“I actually do.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Yoongi goes silent again, mulling over something as his gaze finally met yours for the first time that day. “For someone so perceptive, you're a bit oblivious.”

“What is it?”

“I won't elaborate, I'll let you realize things on your own.”

You groaned, facepalming because ain't no way Yoongi just added more fuel to the forest fire that is your thoughts. The man doesn’t even look aware of what his words had done, reaching over and innocently sipping on his kombucha once more.

“Back to what you were saying, why do you think it felt wrong to see Guwon?”

With his calm voice and the deafening silence of the room, you found yourself comparing Yoongi, who even has his hands folded over his crossed jean-clad legs, to a therapist and laughed.

“Didn’t know I was due for a therapy session when I dropped off your lunch.”

“Well I did, so deal with it,” He placed down his bottle. “Do you need my help or not?”

“Is breathing important? Obviously yes.”

He nods and stands, but not before saying, “I hope you know this conversation is far from over.”

While his presence had given you more peace of mind, leaving the BigHit building with Yoongi—who had forgone his usual outdoor style of beanies and big prescription glasses matched with a black mask in order to appear more intimidating, claiming the beanie softens his edges, something you playfully rolled your eyes at—still felt like walking into your doom.

The moment he steps out of the building, suddenly everyone's eyes are on him. The cool stoicness surrounding him commanded attention and the people listened without complaint, not when Yoongi looked like every highschool teenager's bad boy wet dreams.

Strolling into the cafe is easier with Yoongi trailing behind you like a guard dog; or in his case, a guard panther.

There's something about having the rapper, who has never shown a hint of romantic attraction to you in all your years being their friend, accompanying you to meet the man you might marry once the discomfort born from conflicting feelings subsides. It makes your heart jittery and your stomach twisting uncomfortably, the nerves from meeting Guwon only adding fuel to the fire.

It felt improper somehow, as if you were breaking an invisible rule you're yet to uncover from the depths of your soul.

The tempting aroma of freshly baked buttery goods and roasted coffee beans greeted you the moment Yoongi had pushed the door open for the both of you. In the controlled volume of mixed chatters from different tables, a calm acoustic instrumental flies through the air and you almost forgot what you came here for.

It didn't take long for you to find Guwon sitting on the table farthest from the entrance, secluded and away from the wide glass pane windows. When the door had opened with a chime, the man had raised his head from his phone and met your eyes. You try not to linger on how his expression stiffened when he realized you had Yoongi in tow before a smile wipes it away.

“You see him?” Yoongi’s voice grumbled from behind and you nod. Guwon stands, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor catching his attention. “That him?”

“Yeah, I don't think he's happy I brought you with me.”

He chuckled lightly. “Good.”

Guwon met you both halfway, arms opened wide to greet you with a hug and you let him. When you pull away, his hand casually falls to your waist and your skin scrawls.

Immediately, Yoongi’s eyes drop to look at it but before any hint of emotion breaks onto his face, his cool eyes are already back on your suitor’s face.

“Which one of your kids am I given the pleasure of meeting this time?” Guwon asks before offering his free hand to Yoongi who had taken it with a carefully crafted blank expression and unrelenting stare.

Seeing him remain in eye contact with Guwon surprises you. The man, even after your years of being friends, had never held eye contact for longer than five seconds outside the time he had opened up to you about his struggle with expressing himself.

It made you curious. Why is he provoking him? Is he testing Guwon?

“I'm not one of her kids, I'm actually older than her. Min Yoongi.”

“Yoo Guwon, a pleasure to meet you.”

Even when both their hands had long pulled away from each other, their eyes lingered longer. Challenging on Guwon's part, and taunting on Yoongi's as he stared back, completely unfazed.

Seeing them silently engage in a dick measuring contest, something you didn’t expect Yoongi to ever partake in since he had been loud in his distaste for his own gender, irked you. The tightening grip on your waist didn't help, wanting nothing but to slap it off if it wasn't for your promise to your mother to not fuck this up.

‘If you don't tell them what you're uncomfortable with, then they'll continue on doing it. The other guys out there aren't like us who'd feel guilty if we knew, I fear that they might take advantage of you instead, noona.’ Hobi’s voice echoes in your mind.

Sorry Hoba, I'm trying to make this work. But if this behavior continues, then I'll listen to you.

“I thought you idols are often more busy than the average folk?”

Yoongi sucks air through his teeth before responding. “We were in the middle of a fitting prior. I hope you don't mind me keeping watch, can't have our staff getting distracted by heartthrobs like you.”

Guwon laughed, a little louder than usual.

“She's been telling you guys about me?”

“All the good things, don't worry.” He then turns to you, eyes searching your face for a hint of extreme discomfort before continuing. “I'll go order the others some food.”

Sparing one last nod of his head at the man next to you, Yoongi then turns towards the counter to order. The moment he was out of earshot, dread drops onto your stomach like an anvil and you looked up at the Guwon whose eyes were already trained onto yours, a lazy smile stretched on his lips.

“I assume you’ll be needed back once he’s done?”

“ Yeah, I’m sorry it's just… Wrong timing.”

He waves you off. “Nonsense, it’s my fault for bringing you out of your work. They won’t fine you for this, right?”

“I went with one of my bosses, of course they won’t.”

His eyes studied your face for a moment, searching. For what? You don’t want to know. When he had found whatever it was, his face melts into a softer, more mellow expression and your heart clenches. The outpouring of awe in his eyes felt heavy and thick, it clogs up your throat and weighs your already strained form.

“I missed you.” He whispers with the sweetest of voices. “Did you miss me?”

“I-I do, kept thinking about you...”

The lie weighted like lead on your tongue and burned like acid. Compared to the genuineness practically dripping from his lips, your words fall short in your ears. With the way his softened expression crumpled into a frown, you knew he also noticed the hesitance in your voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry. With the tour being so close and more sponsorship offers coming in, it got a bit stressful than usual.”

When his arms reach around your shoulders and pull you flush to his chest, you will yourself not to tense. You were both hugging in the middle of the coffee shop and you could feel the nearby patrons’ stare pressing onto your body, judging and unpleasant. Embarrassment burns your cheeks and the desire to push him away grows.

Even Jimin and Taehyung doesn’t dare to get affectionate in public, none of your friends ever did anything more than a hand on your shoulder to lead you to the correct direction or a pat on the back when Jungkook had more sleep and food ingested, and was bouncing off the walls and you just happen to be assigned to him.

You wanted nothing more but to tell him to back off but the words got stuck in your throat.

“Just a tip, she doesn’t like PDA so maybe step away?”

Immediately, Guwon scrambles off of you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Guwon says, his hand falling from your shoulder and down to your arm. You shivered.

A firm and familiar hand lands on your shoulder before Yoongi tugs you back to stand next to him. There’s a set in jaw as his eyes narrowed down at Guwon, the hand replacing Guwon on your arm is tense and rigid but not enough to hurt.

You sensed that he had a lot to say once you were out of sight, all of them expressing his distaste for the man you’re set to eventually marry. Even when you were all standing there, you could already imagine the curses and nitpicked details pouring out of his lips.

“We’ll be going back now,” Yoongi says to Guwon, voice tight as if holding back his emotions as he curtly bowed. “Our leader is already demanding us to come back so we’ll have to cut this meeting short. It was nice meeting you.”

Guwon looked incredulous at the turn of events, eyes shuttering before he nodded in understanding and turned to flash a smile at you.

“Message me when you’re home, alright?”

Yoongi didn’t even linger long enough for you to respond, already walking away. By the time you turned to look at him, he was three gaits away from leaving the coffee shop. With a dip of your head, you sprint to follow closely behind the man now pushing through the door.

You could understand the reason for his irritation, always the most protective out of the bunch and the one with the most to say about men. To see your closest female friend be made uncomfortable by her suitor, a stranger in his eyes, there was no doubt he’d be livid.

But why does he have to walk so fast?!

You’re not physically built to match his pace, he takes one step and you have to do three. It was infuriating but you couldn’t exactly scream at him to slow down in public, catching the attention of other people would only create more problems than you both could take on.

He eventually slows down to a halt in front of the double glass doors of the BigHit building and you were able to finally catch up to him. In the lobby, you both calmly approached the elevator, a complete juxtaposition of how hasty you two were not a moment before.

But the moment the metal doors of the elevator shuts, isolating you and Yoongi from the rest, he begins.

“I don’t like him.”

It was stupid but you wanted to know what specific trait he had found irksome.

(Deep down, you knew you were finding a reason to stop, to let go of Guwon and stop this stupid charade.)

“He didn’t even notice you were uncomfortable earlier. When you told us that he’s good, I thought he’d be decent, not top grade bare minimum.”

“H-He was actually good, believe it or not.”

“So he's a pretentious prick?”

You sighed. “H-He just—”

“Hyung wouldn't approve.” Yoongi cuts in, his hardened eyes now piercing through yours, almost taunting you to bite back. “Not just him, everyone wouldn't. You'd break poor Jiminie’s heart if you continued seeing him once he found out how he acted today.”

You knew he was guilt tripping you and it was working. But you swore Guwon was better than the others, he had treated you with a gentleness and care your friends had shown yet something had changed after that night.

Was Taehyung's clinginess, their presence in general, been the catalyst?

Had he felt threatened by them showing up? You had established early on that they're your boss and your mother would've mentioned your relationship with the boys in passing at least, so why would he feel threatened by them?

“I know what you're thinking but it doesn't work like that.” His voice, now softer than it had been earlier, pierces through the trance you’ve submerged into. “Even if you had said you’re only friends with them, it's human nature for us to still feel intimidated even if we're just friends.”

“That's dumb.”

He shrugged. “Men are dumb, I'm just slightly better than the rest.”

“That's debatable.” You joked and he raised an eyebrow.

“Your taste is questionable.” He shot back and you hit his arm in response, making him laugh but it dissolves as fast as it came. “I'm serious, hyung won't like it if you continue meeting Guwon.”

“I know, I can already hear him and we're not even there yet.”

“Don’t be dumb, if you want a husband so bad, tell aunt to wait for us to renew our contract this October then I'll marry you.”

He meant it as a joke, you knew that, but you couldn't stop the butterflies in your stomach from fluttering wildly. You're suddenly reminded of a scene from years ago, his alcohol-flushed cheeks pulled taut by the dopey smile stretching his lips wide and his slurred voice admitting something you—until today—have no recollection of what had been uttered.

You both have been battered to the nines, drunken out of your minds and stumbling over the smallest rocks on the street by the time Seokjin and Namjoon had found you halfway home. It was a miracle you both got off unscathed with how giggly and dumbed down you both were.

“Bold of you to assume I'd say yes.”

“I got wealth, I got a good mug on me, what else would you need?”

“Seokjin also got those.”

He pondered long and hard, sucking air through his teeth before he turned to you again with a glint in his eyes.

“You know what they say about my tongue right?”

He couldn’t say he didn’t expect the punch in the arm that followed soon after.

When the elevator door opens and you both go straight for the dance studio, the conversation about Guwon is put on pause and you dread the moment Seokjin hears what had transpired in the coffee shop when suddenly, Yoongi stills and hissed out a curse.

“Shit, I forgot Jungkook’s muffins.”

287 notes · View notes

miguelhugger2099 · 9 months ago

Text

What a Man!

Summary: Your past experiences with other men had left you with scars. Scars that show in your lovely relationship with Miguel. Art by AndalusiaLu on twt <<Prev

Miguel x GN!Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Drabble

It had been quite a few months since your relationship with Miguel had blossomed into something beautiful and real. He really was different from everyone else and you couldn’t be luckier. Miguel would often disagree, he thought he was the lucky one to end up with someone like you. Kind, intelligent and headstrong as well as so loving. You were the prettiest package to him. You tried your very best not to screw things up. You don’t know what you’d do if you said something or did something to make Miguel not want you anymore. So you remained diligent, making sure that Miguel was happy with you and that he stayed happy. Despite your best efforts to hide the ugly side of you, it managed to creep in the more you were with Miguel. It became harder to hide, slipping through the cracks of the facade you kept up. It started with him arriving home late. Miguel at some point had asked you to live with him, which you declined and eventually settled on visiting and having sleepovers at his place as a compromise. It was still technically early in the relationship. At first when he would come home late, you’d be worried sick wondering if this was good for his health or if he’d get home safely when he’s so tired. Miguel would trug through the door and you’d be at his side as soon as you heard the click. His tired eyes brightened seeing you, wrapping his arms around your waist and trying not to rest his entire body weight on you. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” He murmured in your hair, one arm around your waist and the other going around your shoulders. He breathed in the smell of your shampoo and lotion, his body nearly melting on top of you. You returned his hug with a tight squeeze, the worry in your heart subsiding and replaced with a warm feeling. “It’s okay. I wanted to stay up to see you.” You snuggled closer to his shoulder, his cologne gone after a hard day's work and only leaving a lingering smell along with his natural scent. “No, no, that’s not right. I don’t want you to get big ugly giant eyebags like me. You’re too gorgeous.” Miguel lifts his head up and stares down at you, sleepiness evident in his eyes but his will to see and feel you are stronger. You smile softly and reach up to cup his cheek which he leans into. “I think your eyebags add character.” You giggle and he chuckles along with you. “Really. I don’t mind.”

Miguel’s hands go down to squeeze your hips. “Well I mind. You deserve proper rest. C’mere, off to bed. I’ll join you in a bit.” He takes your hand in his larger one and leads you to his bedroom. What was once very plain and sleek now had little trinkets of your things around like your hairbrush, your favorite candles and a half empty water bottle. Hell, even a new blanket Miguel had bought you along with some extra clothes and pajamas. You practically lived here. After Miguel had washed up in the shower, he joined you in bed, collecting you in his arms and running his hands up and down your back. He asked you about your day, what you had done, what you bought with his credit card–none, you told him– and any other things he might’ve missed when he was off at work. While you listed things off, Miguel listened with an attentive small smile. He focused on the way your lips moved, how your eyes looked up at the walls in thought and how your hands played with his chest hairs. Before falling asleep, he promised one thing. “I’ll do my best to come back home to you.” To your demise, Miguel continued to come home late. Each time he'd come home late he would apologize in any way possible. In kisses, extra cuddling time even when he’s exhausted and showering you in gifts. None of it was enough when he was gone most days and you only got maybe an hour with him before falling asleep. He was one of the top geneticists in his field, most likely number one. He was bound to be busy and needed everywhere. He can’t help it, you told yourself. It’s a taxing job. He’s not doing this on purpose. So why does it leave a sour taste in your mouth? Why does it bother you so much?

You grew anxious. Why couldn’t he just ask for more days off? Why is he so busy? What was the point of him finding a partner when he’s just too occupied from his job? You began to feel alone. His kisses started to feel weak, cuddling time was cut short and the gifts meant nothing after each apology. You tried pushing those thoughts aside. You were acting spoiled. Miguel basically threw his money and love at you and you’re taking it for granted. How selfish can you be? He’d be furious to know you’re using him like this–taking his gifts and whining about it. What if he’s lying? What if the job is just an excuse? Was there someone else? Is that why he’s going to bed faster? A few pecks on the lips before he passes out? Oh, how could you think that of him? He’s been nothing but burned out and trying his best. What would he do if he knew what you were thinking? He can’t. He won’t. So you do what you know best: you shut down. Your inner emotions conflicted with one another. One berating you and the other trying to convince you. You sucked up all your spilling emotions when Miguel came home late again. You met him at the door like always but this time a little slower, more hesitant.

Miguel drops his bag by the door like usual, taking off his coat and placing it down on a chair seat before looking at you. Like always, his eyes brighten up and he brings you in his arms for a hug. He feels himself recharge with you in his embrace but you just feel uncomfortable. The weight of your thoughts and feelings rest heavy in your chest and you slowly wrap your arms around him, resting your head on his chest and hoping to feel some comfort again. “I’ve missed you so much.” You hear Miguel mumble. “I know I keep saying this but I’m really sorry for coming home so late these days. You know I’d rather be here than anywhere else.” “Yeah. I’m sure you do.” You mumble bluntly before slipping out of his arms. Miguel feels his heart drop and confusion overshadow his exhaustion. He watches your back afterwards and there’s nothing he hates more than seeing you walking away from him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He chases after you, walking behind you as you walk into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. “Nothing.” You sigh and it’s quiet between you two except for the tap water running and filling your glass. Miguel’s eyebrows furrow. He can feel something’s wrong with you but he doesn’t know what. Did someone say something to you? “What’s wrong? Did you have a bad day at work?” He crosses his arms and leans back on the counter next to you. He notices how you purposefully look away from him, settling on just sipping from your cup. “No.” “Did someone say something to you?” “No.” “Did I do something?” “No.” You said more quickly this time. “Then can you tell me what’s wrong?” Miguel reaches out his arm to try and turn your cheek to face him but you shrug off his touch.

“I said nothing, Miguel.” You feel yourself grow irritated. You wanted to spill but you knew it would only lead to bad things. You didn’t want to start an argument and have it spiral into more arguments that would inevitably ruin your relationship. You take a few steps away from him until you hear Miguel call your name sternly. You pause in your tracks and for a moment, there’s fear. Is he going to yell? Miguel had never yelled at you but you’ve been yelled at before when being…difficult like this. You felt your heart start picking up speed and you held onto your glass tightly. You hear him call your name again, softly this time, but you still hear it as yelling. Miguel touches your arm and you quickly flinch, turning around and taking a step back. You look up at him, an apology about to drop from your lips. “I’m sor–” Your breath hitches. “Did I do something wrong?” He repeats again. Oh, he noticed your tone. “No, I’m–I’m sorry.” Miguel’s eyes soften, a knowing look as he tilts his head and says your name gently, coaxing the truth out of you. “Talk to me, cariño.” He whispers, now both heads coming up to cup your cheeks. You don’t know what to do. It was a risk to talk about what was bothering you, even as small as him coming home late, but it meant a lot to you. You miss him. You take the risk with a shake of your hands. “I…You come home late,” You start off slowly and he waits patiently. “It’s too much for me. Well… maybe not too much, I know how hard you work but it–” You take a deep breath. “It’s not enough. I miss you. I want to see you for more than just a couple hours in the morning and at night. I just want you to be here and I’m sorry if that sounds clingy of me, but it’s how I feel.” You feel your chest tighten up and look down, unable to meet his eyes and failing to see his face crumble. Miguel takes the glass from your hands and places it beside you on the counter. “C’mere.” He whispers, bringing you in a hug again. “And you promised me so it just feels extra bad, y’know? I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You bury yourself in his arms. Miguel shushed you. “Don’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing.” “But you did–you have–” “And yet here we are. I made you cry.” You didn’t notice the way your tone got more nasally or how you hiccuped and sniffled–all of your tears getting soaked up by his collared shirt. “Are you mad?” You ask. Miguel pulls away to wipe away your tear stained cheeks.

“Jesus, no I’m not mad. How could I be mad at you?” You sniffle when his thumb swipes across your cheekbone. “Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” You shrugged. “You promised and I just…I dunno. I felt like it wasn’t my place to tell you to work less just because I felt lonely.” You try to look away but Miguel doesn’t let you. “I don’t know any other way to tell you this but you are equally as important as my job–maybe even more. You never mentioned that this was bothering you. I could’ve asked for less hours.” “I didn’t want you to get mad at me or think I’m spoiled.” “Baby, it’s my job to spoil you.” Miguel smiles and playfully pinches your cheeks, making you mutter a small ‘ow’ and grin. “I’ve just been taking so much time because everyone there looks at me for answers and advice and other bullshit so they make me oversee everything. But if you want me home, then I’ll come home. Just say the word and I’ll do anything you ask of me.” His tone is soft, as soft as it can be with his deep voice. “That’s a lot of power.” You joke. “It’s yours. I’m yours.” He leans his forehead on yours. “So you’re not mad?” “Not even a little.” “And you’re gonna be coming home earlier?” “Starting tomorrow.” Your smile widens. “Are you sure this is okay? I don’t want you doing things just because I said so.” Your smiles wavers and you slide your arms around his neck. Miguel leans down to pepper kisses along your cheeks, wanting to see you smile more. “Trust me, this is more than okay. A gift even! A couple less hours of work to spend time with the most beautiful, stunning, outstanding, and amazing person in the entire world.” With each compliment, he leaves a giant kiss to your cheeks, forehead, nose and even your chin.

The next day, Miguel comes home way earlier than usual, just when the sun is setting. With more energy than before, he picks you up in his arms and lifts you off the ground after dropping his things to the floor. He runs to the bedroom with you in a fit of laughter, the sound making his heart drum against his chest. He jumps in bed with you, his weight nearly crushing you but you still laugh anyway. “Stop! No outside clothes on the bed!” Miguel smothers you with his lips. “We can clean the sheets later. Let me finally spend time with you.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader

418 notes · View notes

morganski-19 · 7 months ago

Text

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 7

part 1, prev part

Hospitals brought a sense of comfort to Dustin that he didn’t quite understand. Or felt he could even admit. Somewhere among the bustling doctors and the constant beeping, he’s reminded that people are being saved every day. That the people inside these walls are doing their best to make sure his friends stay alive. And at the end of the day, or week, or month, he’ll be able to talk to them again.

That’s what he tells himself every time he walks through the hospital doors. When he goes to the front desk with a smile and asks if it’s ok he visits his friends. When he reads to Eddie as many days as he can and sits next to Lucas in Max’s room. That this place is the best possible place for them to be. That they will be home soon.

It doesn’t matter that they will be changed, it doesn’t matter that they might not be the same. At the end of the day, their alive. Their still here. Dustin doesn’t have to attend another funeral for his friend. Doesn’t have to get dressed in a stuffy suit and hear words of sorrows from people who didn’t care that much when the person in the ground was alive. Instead, he’ll throw a party so big it will shock the smiles right back onto their faces.

Make the bleak seem light again.

Deep inside though, something he never will admit, his own smile starts to fade every day. Seeing his friends lie unconscious on the bed in the same position they were the day before. Nothing changed. Nothing noticeably different. The same tubes still attached. It’s disheartening seeing the bravest people you know stuck somewhere they can’t leave.

The only difference this time is that Steve is there walking beside him. Discharged the day before, wearing his own clothes. Given an ointment for his scars to make sure they heal right and reduce any swelling that might still occur. One to numb the phantom pains when they come and help when they inevitably itch so bad it makes him want to scratch his skin off. Out of the three people who spent the night in the hospital, Steve was the one with the best outcome.

Which is strange to say, since he did pass out from blood loss and lost a good bit of flesh to those damned bats. Has a scar around his neck from their tails that make people’s head turn to look a second time. Think Steve did something he would never even think of. Couldn’t think of. There was too much here that Steve couldn’t leave behind. That any of them could leave behind.

This group of theirs, it was a family. The biggest and best one that ever lived. Where people stepped in to the roles that were given up. Lost. Never had. People come into each other lives just to make them better. It didn’t matter how they met. Everyone had to meet somehow.

It’s why Dustin keeps coming back day in and day out. Insists that he is family when the receptionist asks. This is what real family does. They stand by each other until the end. Give strength when it’s needed so they can get back up again.

Max is the first stop today. An intensity Dustin’s never felt before waiting for him in the room. Like a cloud of misery rests above their heads. Smacking his smile right off his face.

Lucas’s chin rests on his hands, while his elbows dig into the hospital mattress. He looks at Max with tears in his eyes. She’s asleep, the heart monitor attached to her fingers. Breathing tube still resting in her nostrils, just for assistance. Looking stiff with the casts wrapped around her limbs.

“What happened?” Dustin asks bluntly, pulling a chair to sit next to Lucas. He’d rather get to the point that wander around the subject.

Lucas swallows. “You know they scheduled a bunch of tests now that she’s out of the coma. Well, the eye tests were not that intensive, and she wouldn’t have to stay awake for longer than a few hours to get them done. And-.” He gets cut off when a shaky sob crowds his throat.

“And?” Dustin presses. Trying to be gentle but he’s starting to fear the worst. Already making a list of everything that could go wrong, getting ready to check them off.

He’s done research for this. Went to the library and checked out as many books as possible about nerve damage, eye damage. Scars and PTSD. Anything to make him prepared for any diagnosis. To be the best he could for his friends. Ease his own mind while he’s at it.

But nothing he could have done would have prepared him for the words that leave Lucas’s mouth. How they are so pressing that Lucas has to leave the room. Dustin watches as he steps out with tears streaming down his face. Steve pulling him into a hug before the door shuts behind him.

With all of the possibilities, this was the one that none of them wanted. The one that was the worst of his list. Written last in his mind because of how bad he didn’t want it to happen. Proof that none of them were as invincible as he liked to believe. Wanted to feel.

Max was almost entirely blind.

The room starts to close in around him as he stares at the hospital bed. As the heart monitor persists, getting louder with every thump of Max’s heart. Proof that she’s alive, but not proof for how well she is going to live. The life she will face that is so different than the one she had a week ago. Two years ago.

When they brought Max into this hellscape of a situation, Lucas presented her with a choice. To live happily in ignorance, or face the bitter truth that hides underneath this town. Max made her choice. Dustin has never wished she chose differently more than he did right now.

It was easy to believe that everything would be ok, when nothing really bad ever happened directly to you. Sure, he’s lost people. Almost lost people. But the ones he cared the most about were still here. Still above ground. In the end, Dustin could still walk away smiling.

He doesn’t quite feel like smiling anymore.

Next part

tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

#chills right to the marrow fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #dustin pov #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #steve harrington #eddie munson #hospitals #diagnosis #everyone lives/nobody dies #pre steddie #fanfic #blind max

253 notes · View notes

teapartyprincess4two · 6 months ago

Text

II. Powerful

classification: angst, fluff

warnings: use of y/n

PREV, NEXT

—

Every year the social season manages to drain you beyond belief. When your mother was still alive, she’d flaunt you in front of every eligible bachelor in Solara in hopes that you’d find your one true love and produce an heir.

Courting was an easy enough process, a process that perhaps you would’ve enjoyed if you weren’t royalty. Your mother always managed to exhaust you with the same words, “A Queen is only as powerful as her King.”

To this day, even after her passing, those words cause your eyes to roll so far back into your head it’s a wonder how they don’t fall out. So much hypocrisy was laced within those words, especially coming from a woman who ruled without a king for decades.

You were powerful with or without a king, that you were certain of. If your mother was able to do it while raising two daughters, you’d surely manage now that your sister was entering the cusp of adulthood.

This year Selma has made her debut into society, a milestone she’s had her sights on for quite some time now.

Selma, unlike you, believes in romance and love. She’s extremely determined to find a husband who’ll bring her butterflies, write her love letters, and take her for who she is.

Every eligible bachelor has come knocking at the castle door in hopes of impressing Selma enough to make it out with her hand in marriage.

Yesterday, she was kept busy entertaining possible suitors in the tea room, and today wasn’t any different. Of course, you could’ve sent Martina to chaperone her, but you’d be damned if your sister gave herself away to anyone less than worthy.

The sound of Martina’s heels clicking against marble flooring becomes louder as she nears the tea room. Her small figure comes into view, bringing your attention from the letters and feather quills on your desk to the door frame. You’re fully expecting her to announce the arrival of another one of Selma’s callers, but her next words surprise you.

“You have a visitor, Your Highness. It is a…” she says, pausing to read from a small piece of paper, “…a Lord Sturniolo.”

Apprehensively, you gather your papers and send Selma, who sits on a nearby couch reading a book, an inquisitive look.

“Have you been courting a Lord Sturniolo, Selma?” You ask, filtering through a mental list of eligible bachelors in hopes of putting a face to the name.

“With you as a sister it’s hard to believe I’ve been courted at all,” Selma replies sarcastically.

Just as you’re about to quip back with a smart remark, Martina interrupts. “He claims to be a visitor, Your Highness.” She places special emphasis on ‘visitor,’ but you’re still not sure what to make of it.

“Martina, you know how I feel about visitors during the social season. If they haven’t been invited, please turn them away,” you say as you stand from your seat and walk closer to your sister.

“Oh, please! Don’t be so hardened, sister. Surely this…” Selma pauses and looks towards Martina for a moment.

“Lord Sturniolo.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you Martina,” Selma turns back to face you, “Surely this Lord Sturniolo is here to deliver some important news. Perhaps it is exciting news. Maybe even life changing!”

You roll your eyes, Selma always tried to make you see the light in a world full of darkness. She was too naive for her own good.

“Either way, I do not enjoy receiving unannounced and uninvited visitors,” you reply.

Martina speaks again, “I’m sorry, ma’am. He said the visit would be quick, but it did seem important. I can turn him away if you’d prefer it?”

A sigh falls past your lips. How rude would you be if you turned away a visitor, a lord at that? Sure, you had the respect that came with wearing a bejeweled crown on your head, but humility was still your strong suit.

“No, that won’t be necessary. You can send him in.”

As soon as you give her the confirmation, Martina turns on her heels and flutters out of the room quickly like a busy honeybee.

You’re anxious, mostly because you know this visitor will be looking at you as some sort of authority, but also because you’re not sure what would warrant such an unexpected visit. Selma stands next to you, looping an arm around yours in solidarity, and working towards soothing your nerves with kind words.

“Be calm, sister. I’m here with you.” You exhale deeply, immediately feeling a wave of relief wash over you.

“Thank you, Selma. I’d be lost without you.”

The sound of metal clanging becomes louder as the unknown man approaches the tea room, accompanied by the all too familiar sound of Martina’s clacking heels.

A man with long black hair enters the room, his silver armor shining brightly against the sunlight that illuminates the room. His sword is tucked away in its respective sheath and his helmet is tucked under his arm.

He’s quick to show his respect with a bow. He faces you first, “Your majesty.”

You return the sentiment with a curtsy, “Lord Sturniolo.”

“Princess Selma.” He bows in front of your sister as well, and you swear she almost swoons and faints as she begins to curtsy.

“Quite a beautiful estate you two share. Quite a beautiful country, actually,” he comments, eyes dancing over Selma’s figure a little too long. Selma must like the attention because her cheeks turn a rosy red and her eyelashes bat until she’s almost fluttering away.

“Thank you, My Lord. Kind words go a long way in Solara,” Selma says.

You clear your throat. “To what do we the owe the pleasure of this visit, Lord Sturniolo?”

“Yes, My Lord. Are you not aware that it is calling hour?” Selma asks, taking a flirtatious tone.

Selma’s playing all of her cards. You see it in the way she bats her eyes.

Maybe it’s because you’re her older sister, and the Queen at that, but you cringe. You can’t suppress the awkward, interrupting cough no matter how hard you try. And you definitely can’t escape the cold glare she sends your way.

Chris sends Selma a smirk, before returning his attention to you. “I was not aware that it is calling hour. Had I known, I would’ve made this trip on pleasure instead of business.”

Chris pulls a letter out, “I’ve come to deliver an invitation. My older brother is to be crowned in a week time.”

Your take the letter, delicate fingers peeling it open. “Thank you for your kind gesture, Lord Sturniolo. I will hand this over to the councilmen and have them arrange everything immediately.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. Thank you for receiving me,” an awkward pause interrupts him mid sentence as he debates whether or not to ask to stay. Chris debates against it when he notices the impatient expression that paints your face. “I think I should be on my way now if I’d like to make it home before morning.”

He bows, looking Selma up and down one last time before turning on his heels. One of his hands tussles through his long hair, slicking it back before throwing on his helmet.

Selma points at him with her eyes, silently begging for you to ask him to stay. ‘No,’ you mouth, sending her a stern look.

But even the Queen has a weakness.

“Please, sister,” she begs almost inaudibly. Her big doe eyes glisten as her bottom lip juts out. *1

You sigh heavily and roll your eyes.

Just as Chris is about to exit the room, you stop him. “Wait, Lord Sturniolo. Stay and join us tonight for dinner. I’ll have the cooks prepare something special for tonight, you must be hungry after your journey.”

Chris smiles, he was hungry actually.

“Thank you, Your Highness. A warm meal would do me good.” His voice is muffled behind the helmet, but his gratitude is evident regardless.

—

Silver cutlery dances along your plate as you engage in light conversation with your sister and Chris. It’s not like Selma’s flirting will let you ask Chris any meaningful questions.

You hate to play the ‘older sister/ Queen’ card, but Selma’s flirting is getting out of hand and you have a multitude of doubts swirling in your mind.

“If I may ask My Lord, do they make a habit of sending you to deliver messages in Eclipsum?” Selma asks as she digs her knife into a particularly tough piece of meat.

Chris is mid bite. Throughout the entire meal, he’s struggled to balance his hunger with his desire to chat your sister up. So far, he’s remained hungry.

He swallows dryly, a calloused hand begging for patience.

“Eclipsum’s undergoing a necessary change at the moment, Princess. I’m not usually in charge of delivering messages, but when they’re as important as this one, the future King trusts no one other than me,” he replies, immediately returning to the food in front of him.

Selma is ready with a reply, but if you want to take any part of in this conversation then you need to cut in as soon as possible. So you do, “Why is this message so important, My Lord? I take it your brother’s coronation was announced long before the social season began.”

“Yes, well that was my eldest brother Nick,” he replies mindlessly through mouthfuls of food.

Curious about what he means, you press further. “Is it not the eldest brother who inherits the crown?”

Chris coughs, trying to stop himself from choking on his food as he realizes what he just let slip. You can tell he’s becoming nervous, but the truth will come out eventually.

“Yes, well… you see,” Chris takes a deep breath, looking up at you through the hair that falls over his eyes. He places his utensils on the table, racking his brain for the correct response.

“You see, Your Highness, complications have risen in Eclipsum. I cannot go into too much detail, but I can say that the crown has since been inherited by my second eldest brother.”

Selma looks just as shocked as you.

“May I ask why the invitation was extended to us, My Lord? Solara and Eclipsum have never been necessarily involved when it comes to these matters,” Selma chimes in.

“Powerful countries must form alliances should they want to remain powerful,” Chris replies, offering you and Selma a quick smile before digging back into his meal.

—

Crashing waves are heard from the Eclipsum shore, a fog forming as the water slaps against the muddy sand. The sun is setting, slowly disappearing past the horizon and painting the sky a beautiful shade of purple. Matt sits alone, the old wooden dock beneath him groaning as he sways one leg back and forth in the water. His other leg is propped up, a lazy arm resting there to serve as a pillow for his head. His long hair settles just under his eyes, shielding his vision enough so that he only sees the black ocean that pushes and pulls around him. Matt’s mind is plagued with stress and worry, the only reason he’s even here is to escape the reality that awaits him back at the castle. This is meant to be his happy place, it is his happy place, yet he’s anything but.

The sudden sound of trotting hooves rings in his ears, alerting him of someone’s unexpected arrival and breaking him from his thoughts. “Matt?” a tentative voice asks, pulling on the horses’ reign hard enough for it to stop. There are only two people in this entire kingdom who refer to him by his this, everyone else opting for far more formal titles.

Reluctantly, Matt averts his eyes from the ocean, looking up to see none other than his youngest brother, Chris. The moon has replaced the sun’s place in the sky, the soft luminescence reflecting on the suit of armor that adorns Chris’s body. The white stallion Chris sits on adds to his strong, knightly demeanor, and if Matt didn’t know any better, he might’ve let himself get intimidated by the long sword that hangs on the armor’s sheath.

Matt doesn’t have to reply, or ask what Chris is here for, he already knows. Using one hand, he pushes himself off the wooden dock, a low grunt following as he dusts off dirt and debris. His attire completely juxtaposes Chris’s, a flowy, long sleeve white top flapping in the wind as he walks over to his brother. Matt places a gentle hand on the stark white stallion that stands before him, caressing its face before finally providing Chris with his full attention.

“Get on. I’ll take you back,” Chris instructs, a strong chin pointing to the rear end of the horse. Matt mulls it over, deciding whether or not to accept the invitation, before deciding that he’d rather prolong the process, “No it’s okay, thank you. I think I’ll walk.”

Chris shrugs his shoulders, steering the mare back into the forest before whipping the leather rope so that the horse picks up a steady pace. Matt watches as Chris disappears behind the treeline the further the horse trudges into the forest.

Slowly, Matt begins the long walk back to the castle, each footstep being met with the bioluminescence of the ground beneath his feet. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he takes one last look behind him, a faint, faraway kingdom coming into view.

For a second he wonders what it would be like to live there instead, but shrugs the thought off as the fog that rises from the ocean completely engulfs the view. *2

—

Soft waves slap against the boat as it comes to a stop on a foggy, moonlit shore. You pace back and forth downstairs under the deck, attempting to regulate your breathing with deep breaths that become ragged quickly.

Martina flutters behind you, trying to match your pace so she can adjust details on your gown. You’re an anxious mess.

Your corset is too tight, your dress is too big, your hair is beginning to weigh on your head, and to top it off this is the first official appearance you’ll be making as Queen outside of Solara.

As Martina fusses over you, you find yourself becoming increasingly irritated.

“Martina, could you please—” You shout, “Please just leave me be! For one second!”

Her hands shoot up in the air, a tight lipped smile forming on her face as she holds back tears before she quietly exits the room. As soon as the door clicks closed, and you hear her footsteps shuffle up to the ship’s deck, you let out a sigh of relief and slump onto the bed.

The wooden bed frame creaks as you sink into the mattress. You’re trying to keep your composure and you never meant yell, but this is all so overwhelming for you.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you try to think of anything other than the nerves that surge through your body. Your mind immediately wanders to memories of your childhood and of your mother, putting you in an even more emotional and vulnerable state.

Just as your heart beat has been regulated, Selma bursts through the door without warning.

“Why have you yelled at Martina?!” She asks, her voice booming through the small room. The look on her face makes you feel worse.

“Selma, it was a misunderstanding. All I needed was a minute alone,” you reply, sitting up to get a better view of your sister.

“That does not seem like a well enough excuse to me. All Martina ever does is help and you’ve gone and upset her! Queen or not, you owe her an apology.”

“I shall apologize when everyone is calm.”

“You’re right, you shall. And you shall also make haste because everyone is waiting and we don’t have all day.” With that Selma stomps out of the room and slams the door shut, almost breaking the aged wood from the sheer force.

You throw yourself back on the bed, anxiety once again at an all time high. How were you meant to portray a powerful Queen when you felt so helpless?

—

“Queen Y/n! Princess Selma!” Chris exclaims, waving a hand in the air briefly as he calls you two over.

The coronation was quick and easy, and now that it’s over you don’t know why you were so anxious to begin with. Nobody has paid you any particular attention, most eyes were too busy trying to catch a glimpse of the new King.

You even found yourself narrowing your eyes and crooking your neck to see his face, but for the most part he had his back to the crowd and kept his head hung low.

“Lord Sturniolo!” Selma matches Chris’s energy, her heart skipping a beat as she pulls you in his general direction.

“You cleaned up quite beautifully,” Selma jokes, gawking at Chris’s elegant attire. A slight blush forms on his cheeks.

“Thank you both for making the trip, I hope it wasn’t too much trouble,” he says, a smile so bright it could blind you adorning his face.

“Oh it was nothing really,” you reply, but in reality you would’ve preferred to stay home. Eclipsum was dreary and the sun rarely had a chance to shine through the foggy, cloudy sky. Not to mention the fact that you have yet to meet the King; the sole purpose for your travel.

“Although I did hope to meet that famous brother of yours,” you continue, eyes scanning the room in hopes of finally seeing the King.

Chris’s eyes follow yours, he’s been hoping for the same all night, but Matt always managed to keep hidden even when he was meant to be the center of attention. Who could blame him, though? He was just crowned not only in jewels, but also in responsibility.

“Matt— I mean, the King has always been good at hiding.”

‘Matt.’ The name helps you understand and humanize him. He must be struggling like you were when you first became Queen.

“I’m sure he’s being kept extremely busy with all this company. We shall meet him soon, Sister.” Selma’s arm remains looped around yours, the other gesturing to the ballroom full of people as she creates a steady flow of conversation with Chris.

Chris chuckles, he found your sister’s positivity endearing, but he knew Matt was sequestered away from society by choice.

“Will you both be staying in Eclipsum?” Chris asks, attempting to change the topic.

You and Selma answer simultaneously. She says yes and you say no.

“I suppose we shall be staying then. A few days shouldn’t hurt,” you laugh. Selma’s gaze remains on Chris, they were clearly falling in love and here you were stuck babysitting your sister in a foreign country.

You huff in annoyance, “I shall need some time alone.” Selma waves you off, so engaged in conversation with Chris that nothing else matters.

So much for power.

—

MASTERLIST, SERIES MASTERLIST

A/n: I know you all want them to meet already, but trust ITS COMING. For everyone who’s been asking for part two, hope I enjoy! 😏 more coming soon

muah muah muah 💋 luv u all

- L.A.M.B💗👼🏻

—

1* not the bottom lip JUTTING out

2* yes this is the same part from the teaser. Why? Because I was teasing it 🤓

—

taglist: @nickgetsmewetter @sturniololovers @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @sturnioloarchive @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf @aurizp @riasturns @sturnikitty @sturnrc @sturtriple16 @sillyfreakfanparty @imwetforyourmom @mattslovelygf @certifiednatelover @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @luvr4miya @somegirlfromasgard @l0vergrlll @pepsicolapussy333 @unbruisable @sugrhigh @khxna @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @callsignwidow

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐 if your user is striked through, I wasn’t able to tag you :(

159 notes · View notes

fxrmuladaydreams · 1 year ago

Text

her video (sv5)

pornstar!seb x camgirl/pornstar!reader

summary: sebastian helps you film a video for your channel

warnings: !!CONTAINS SMUT MINORS DNI!! smut, fingering, edging

prev part next part

You had gone out a few more times with Sebastian after the first shared dinner, meeting at different restaurants and cafés to get more comfortable with one another. The more you met with him the more you talked about the collaboration that seemed to become more and more set in stone.

You’d film a video for your channel and a video for his. He asked that you give him a list of your hard limits, of the things you were absolutely not okay with, then another of things you liked and wanted to try. He discussed the use of a safeword if it ever got to be too much, or if you were ever uncomfortable. You were surprised, you hadn’t worked with anyone before, so this was all a new experience, but Sebastian put a lot of planning and care into his preparations for your filming day.

He offered up a studio that he uses as a location, but you told him you’d be more comfortable in your home. He understood, he was once a fresh face too, and could remember how anxious he was when filming in a new place for the first time.

He showed up to your house fairy early, with a bag slung over his shoulder and a soft smile on his face.

“Hello schatz.” He greeted you as you opened the door. He was wearing light denim jeans and a white t-shirt.

“Hi Sebastian. You can come in, and just set your stuff wherever.” You told him, opening the door further for him.

“Can I keep this where we’re filming?” He asks, raising the shoulder his bag is hanging from.

“Sure. I set up my camera in my room, so we should be ready to start whenever.” You tell him wringing your hands. “Did you have any ideas?”

He gives you a confused look. “It’s your video schatz, we’ll do what you want to do.” He sees you nervously hovering near the door to your room. He takes slow steps towards you then takes one of your hands in his. “You’re in control here. You say the word and we stop. Okay?”

You nod up at him, and open the door to your room.

He has to take a moment to take a deep breath as you lead him inside. It looked just like it did in your videos, the same fluffy blankets, the same soft lighting coming in through sheer curtains at your window. He notices the basket of toys that sits next to your bed. Various dildos and vibrators sit inside it.

You glance down at the basket, then back up at the man next to you.

“I was thinking maybe we don’t use those?” You ask, your voice quiet. “It’s just, this is the first time I’m filming with an actual person, why not try something new?”

Sebastian hums in agreement, and sets his bag down near the door. “Yeah, we can forgo the toys.” He sits down on your bed. “So how do you want me?”

You take a deep breath. “Well I’ve seen your videos, and I like what you do in them, so could you maybe be like that? Like kind of mean, but not too mean?”

He nods. “So like a soft dom? Yeah I can do that.”

“Okay, great.” You step towards the camera. “I’m gonna start filming now, and I’ll edit it after we’re done. And I’ll send you the video before I post it just to make sure it’s okay, alright?”

“Of course.”

You press the button on your camera to start recording. Sebastian is sat on the bed, his eyes looking just past the camera at you, waiting for your next move.

You slowly walk over to him and climb onto his lap, straddling him. He leans forward about to kiss you, but you turn your head away.

“No kissing.” You whisper to him.

“Alright.” He presses his lips to your neck instead, leaving a soft trail of kisses in his wake.

You let your head fall to the side, giving him more room and close your eyes. His teeth scrape against your skin, causing a whimper to fall from your mouth. He smirks and slowly moves his hands under the bottom of the dress you’ve chosen for the video.

He brushes against the lacy panties you picked out, his fingers toying with the fabric at your hips.

“How about we see what’s under this pretty little dress?” He asks. His voice has a teasing lilt to it.

He turns you to face the camera, then slowly pulls the dress up off of you. He pulls you back down onto his lap, your legs open over his, still facing the camera. His hands travel over you, softly massaging your skin as they move over your body. His fingers play with the straps of your bra, then move back down your stomach, hovering over your panties.

“So pretty.” He says in your ear.

You gasp when you feel him softly press his fingers against your panties. He slowly traces them up and down, feeling the lace start to become damp.

“You’re already getting wet for me?” He smirks.

“Please.” You whine, your body rolling to meet his hand.

“Look at you, already so desperate.” He taunts.

His left hand goes back up to your bra, undoing the hook in the back and throwing it to the side. Your tits fall out, now rolling with the movements of your body. He cups a breast in his hand, squeezing the flesh. He softly pinches your nipple between his fingers, smiling at the soft moans you let out.

His other hand leaves your lower half and does the same to your other breast. He spends a few minutes toying with them before his hands move back down to your panties.

“You’re so wet for me, I can feel it through your underwear.” He slowly peels the lacy fabric off of you, and holds it up for you to see. There’s a decent sized wet spot on them, the spot slightly darker than the rest of the fabric. “Look at that.” He says, before tossing them aside.

His left hand holds you over your stomach, pulling you against him, while the other wanders back down to your center. His touch is feather-light as he brushes over your folds, back and forth, then finally over your clit. You jolt at his touch, squirming in his lap.

“Oh, someone’s an eager little bunny.” He says.

His words float around your head, the new name sending a flush over you.

He presses down on your clit, rubbing it in circles. He coos as you whine, your hips moving on their own accord to match with his hand.

He pulls his fingers away just as you start to feel a new wave of pleasure.

“No, why?” You whine, your own hand moving to replace his.

He quickly pulls your hand away and holds it at your side.

“Behave little bunny. Or I won’t let you cum.” He warns you.

His hand only moves back to your center once you’ve stilled on his lap. This time his middle finger runs along your folds. He slowly pushes the end of his finger inside you, gathering your slick on it, and moving it up to your clit.

“More, please sir.” The title falls from your mouth without a second thought.

He grins. “So you do have some manners?” He pushes his finger back inside you, this time curling upwards. “You’re so warm.” He says as he kisses along your neck.

His finger is longer than any of yours, able to reach deep inside you. He pushes his ring finger in as well, the thick digits spreading you open.

You moan at the intrusion. You can feel his fingers scissoring you open as you clench tighter around him.

His other hand moves down to play with your clit, rubbing it in quick circles.

Your whimpers come out rhythmically with every thrust of his fingers.

“You’re so close huh bunny? Do you want to cum?” He asks, his lips brushing against your ear.

You nod frantically. “Please let me cum, please, please, please.” You feel yourself falling closer to the edge as his finger speed up.

Then, nothing. He pulls both his hands away from you, back up to your stomach. He holds you against him as your body thrashes, searching for his lost touch.

“Well I don’t want you to cum yet. You look so pretty whining and begging for me, it’d be a shame to stop now.” He pinches one of your nipples.

You let out a disgruntled whine, pushing your hips forward, looking for some friction.

“You’re so desperate aren’t you? Let’s see just how wet you are.” He pulls your legs apart wider and prods at your folds. His fingers push them apart for the camera. They’re puffy and pink now, covered in your slick.

“Now, here’s what’s going to happen.” He says as his hand cups your pussy, the heel brushing over your clit. “You’re going to beg me to cum, but you’re only going to cum when I tell you to. Okay?”

You nod. “Yes sir.”

“Good girl.” He pushes his fingers in you again, lazily thrusting them in and out. “Now beg for it.”

You plead with him for more, for him to go faster, to add more fingers, for anything. He rests his head on your shoulder and looks down at where his fingers are inside of you. He adds a third finger and pumps them in and out of you faster.

“Please may I cum?” You ask as you feel the knot tighten within you.

“Hold it.” He commands, his thumb now tracing over your clit.

Your moans get louder and louder as you feel yourself get closed and closer to the edge. “Please? Please? Oh my god, please let me cum!”

He’s silent for a moment, then gives you a command in your ear. “Cum.”

A feeling like never before rushes over you. It’s a wave of pleasure like you’ve never experienced before. Your head is thrown back, resting against his shoulder as you cry out. He guides you through your orgasm, his fingers slowing as you come down.

He pulls his fingers out of you, and wraps his arms around you.

You try to catch your breath, your brain still a little fuzzy as he strokes your hair.

“You did so well schatz, you were so good.” He gives you soft praises.

“Thank you sir.” You nuzzle into his neck.

“No, no, no. Not sir anymore, okay? Just Seb.” He tells you. He holds you in his arms for a few minutes, then pulls away slightly to look at you.

“I’m going to get my bag, alright? I’ll be right back.” He softly lifts you off his lap, placing you next to him.

“Seb-” you reach out for him.

He dashes to the door and back to his spot next to you, now with his bag. He reaches behind him to turn off your camera, then turns back to you. He kneels down on the ground in front of you and pulls a soft towel out of his bag. He wipes his fingers off, then softly spreads your legs open. He cleans you up, apologizing when you try to close your legs from the sensitivity.

He pulls out a large sweatshirt next and places it on the bed next to you. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, but I figured it might help you get more comfortable.”

You give him a quiet thank you, and pull the sweatshirt over your head. The material is soft, the sleeves falling past your hands.

The next thing he pulls from the bag is a bottle of water. “I know you probably have water here, but I wanted to be prepared.” He untwists the cap for you and hands it to you.

You take it from him and start to take small sips. He pulls out two granola bars next. He hands you one, and unwraps the other, taking a bite from it.

“It’s important to drink water and have a snack after something like that.” He explains. “How are you feeling.”

“Good, tired, but good.” You give him a soft smile.

“Good.” He nods. He stays with you for a while, just chatting with you, making sure you won’t drop back into subspace.

“So should we get started on your video?” You ask, reaching for the hem of his sweatshirt you’ve got on.

He quickly reaches for your hands, pulling them back down to your sides. “No schatz, not tonight. You’ve done a lot, and you need to rest. We’ll talk about my video later.”

You stay with each other for a little while longer, just taking in the presence of one another before he realizes how late it’s gotten.

He stands up from the floor and reaches for his bag. “I should get going. But thank you schatz, I had fun.”

You’re almost disappointed to see him gather his things and get ready to leave. “Me too, thank you Seb.”

You walk him back to your front door. “Text me later, okay?” You ask.

“Of course.” He reaches for your hand and gives it a soft squeeze, then leaves your home.

He’s not even halfway to his car before he wonders when the next time he’ll be able to see you will be.

#sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel smut #formula one x reader #sv5

848 notes · View notes

saerins · 9 months ago

Text

PREV: #003 THE FIRST RIPPLE 𖧧 #004 THIS SPARK, IS IT REAL? 𖧧 NEXT: #005 THE ICE SURRENDERS ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — there’s a lot you don’t understand about what’s going on with sae, but he can say the same about you. question is, once you both find out more about each other, will your growing feelings stay the same?

content: itoshi sae x female reader. fluff/angst. profanity, alcohol, reader is fairly straightforward here, pining, jealousy, misunderstandings. word count: 5.8k

༝༚༝༚ slightly shorter chapter this week ^_^ hehe we’re getting closer to the messier/exciting parts so bear with me heh :) mwah ily guys <3

you’re starting to learn that maybe you can’t get your hopes up with itoshi sae.

a week later, you don’t hear anything from him. you both haven’t spoken since that night he took you out. not that you’re entirely too bothered—it’s a first for you, trying to get to know someone as in-demand as sae. (you don’t count eita because you’ve known him since before the fame.)

it doesn’t help that you don’t really have anyone to talk to about this. you promised sae that you wouldn’t spill, and you’re keeping that promise. somehow, it makes you feel a little warm inside; thinking that there is some sort of intimacy you share with sae that only the two of you know.

besides, even if you could talk to eita about it, you don’t want to.

is it too quick for you to think you might fall for him?

falling for someone isn’t really in your life plans yet, especially after your last and only tumultuous relationship, but maybe itoshi sae is different. he sure seems like it.

the next week rolls around, and you still hear nothing from him. which is fine with you; you’ve resigned yourself to thinking what’s yours will be yours and not to force anything… even if you spend most of your idle time wondering if sae is ever going to post anything on his private account. did he really just create it solely because you asked him to?

you can see that he logs in to it, judging by his icon on that little viewer list in your stories. but that’s the extent to which you see him online. he doesn’t reply, or do anything much. considering his normal account is probably mainly run by his team, you guess you shouldn’t expect too much from him.

still, maybe it’s a little pathetic of you to be wearing his cap so frequently. it’s sort of become a staple piece for you, somehow. to be fair, there’s hardly any dress code in place for you to follow and considering the bulk of your workwear is mostly casual, it fits right into your style. although, after sumi pointed out one day that it’s a luxury brand and that it costs more than you would personally ever spend on a cap (even if you had the means to), you try to wear it less often. (though that seems like a waste considering it was given to you.)

“you know, you gave the boss a really good scoop, enough to last for a few months,” sumi points out during lunch, taking a lick of her vanilla ice cream as the both of you sit out on the roof, escaping the cramped office. “so why do you look so stressed?”

honestly, you didn’t even realise you did. you thought you were being normal, but it has been a while since you had a normal crush on someone, and since itoshi sae is certainly not just a normal somebody, maybe you had been acting a little off, always waiting for a text, a call even, something.

“nothing, i just haven’t been able to get a good sleep lately,” you lie, hoping that sumi won’t pry.

she doesn’t.

“hm, it’s friday today,” she hums, pondering. “maybe you should find a few of your friends, get out, let loose, you know?”

later at your desk, the clock almost striking 5pm, you think maybe you should. because as much as you love your chill friday nights alone (mainly because your mom is barely home on the weekends), you don’t think it’ll do you much good if you keep mulling over the same old thing.

but just as you’re about to go pester eita again, he gets to you first, his timing impeccable today.

there’s an aching disappointment in your chest when you realise sae isn’t going to be there. maybe it’s just the glaring difference between the life of a celebrity versus someone normal like you. his schedule must usually be packed to the brim after all.

whatever, you’ll let him come back to you on his own time. for now, all you want to do for the weekend is to spend it having fun with the guys and settling everything you need to on saturday and spend sunday to yourself.

this possible thing between you and sae, whatever it could be, can wait. you’re not in any rush. at least, that’s what your head tells you.

your heart feels something different.

it’s only the second time you’re actually hanging out with eita’s friends, but you’re not regretting it one bit. even on the day of the event they’d been welcoming to you, and tonight is no exception.

they’re all sat around the wooden table on the balcony, a ton of beer cans and liquor bottles littered across the table. you sit on the long end, on the long chair, right beside eita, sides of your bodies always pressed close together that it makes a glint form in oliver’s eyes.

he’s still curious, not out of concern but just because, about you and eita and sae and how everything is going to tie together. it’s not everyday he sees eita being okay with a girl that close to him and not complain that she’s a bother. it’s also not everyday that sae creates a private account. oliver got bored and saw one day that you were the first person he followed.

you must really be something.

“where even is sae today?” you hear sendou ask, a hiccup following suit. “i finally come over and he’s not even here.”

he’s sitting on your other side, his profile strangely reminding you of the very guy he’s asking about. maybe it’s the way his hair is a lighter shade of pink, maybe even his sharp jawline. his eyes are different though, more expressive, and universally soft somehow.

you remember how sae’s can look soft, his teal eyes turning gentle whenever you try to approach him. but it wasn’t that way when you first met him, that’s a given.

“i don’t know, said he was too tired,” oliver sighs, stretching in his seat.

“wasn’t he just with bianca yesterday?” yukimiya asks, oblivious to oliver’s glee.

it kind of stings, but you stay quiet, the alcohol slowly seeping into your system. you can feel eita leaning against you a little bit more, and his presence has always been comforting, so you let him.

sendou hums, index finger tapping against his near-empty beer can. “is that still going on? how long has their relationship status been a mystery already?”

karasu snorts, nudging sendou on the elbow. “salty just ‘cause you tried to ask her out and she rejected you?”

as you sit quietly and observe, it seems that sendou was once at an event with her too—apparently, he had asked her for her number and she didn’t even want to give it to him. and then a month later she “met sae and was all over him”, according to karasu.

with the exception of eita, who sits quietly beside you, they start a debate on whether or not sae’s finally starting to see bianca in a different light. or, as sendou points out, “maybe they’ve been a thing all along and just hid it really well from everyone.” it’s not exactly something you want to listen to, even if you are the most curious you’ve ever been about a guy, so you block it out from your ears.

but oliver leans forward, resting his chin on the liquor bottle in front of him, staring straight at you. you’ve never really noticed it but his eyes are really beautiful, the different shades of green and purple making him seem ethereal just like that.

“you’re a girl, y/n, what do you think?” he asks you, a lazy drawl in his tone.

mirroring his actions, you bat your eyelashes at him, looking innocent as ever when you answer him. “i think you guys should stop talking about that her behind her back like that,” you say, earning a raise of oliver’s brows in return. he’s surprised, to say the least, but not in a bad way.

it’s not even that you don’t want to hear about her. you’re wantonly curious, especially since you’re beginning to realise your small hint of emotions towards sae, but something tells you that these guys wouldn’t be too kind with their words if you egg them on.

karasu gives you a nod of approval that you miss before he leans back in the chair, whispering to yukimiya, “at least we all know shidou won’t totally hate y/n.” but it’s too soft for you to hear, and you probably won’t even be able to make sense of it even if you did, not with the gradually increasing level of alcohol in your system.

between intentionally drinking to not be a pathetic mess who keeps thinking about her potential love life and having to drink because you’re usually good at drinking games but not when oliver is around with the way he keeps beating you at everything, you happen not to notice a lot of things.

at one point, oliver has replaced sendou next to you, whispering snarky comments in your ear in between games. he’s not the flirting kind, at least not to you, and he doesn’t push your boundaries physically either—he’s more akin to a friend you’d love to gossip with. that’s why you don’t even think much when he tilts his camera towards you, taking a selfie with both you and eita in it.

just a normal picture of friends hanging out, oliver leaning against your legs, propped up on the chair, your own head leaning into the crook of eita’s neck, all of you evidently tipsy from the dazed look in your eyes.

what neither of you notice is oliver’s smirk as he posts the picture onto his private, betting on his target audience of one to see it.

and now, he’ll just have to wait.

one hour later, the doorbell rings and yukimiya’s eyes glance over to eita, comfortable with an arm around you, and he takes it as his cue to open the door. eita’s probably too reluctant to move and he’ll let whoever it is at the door keep at it for hours before he’ll answer the poor guy.

he’s expecting some random food delivery, maybe from karasu because he’s been whining about wanting some chicken with his beer, or maybe even shidou showing up at the last minute from his other party. but this? the person he’s staring at in the eyes right now, is the last person he expected to see tonight.

“wait, i thought you weren’t coming?” yukimiya asks, but oliver’s already shouting from the balcony.

“hey, sae, what the fuck are you doing here?” he asks from the balcony, taking a swig of his beer.

beside him, you hear sae’s name and your head immediately whips around to look at the door. there he is, looking tired as ever but he’s there, in the flesh, dressed in all black, jacket and sweats, teal eyes finding you from all the way across the house.

sae wordlessly walks past yukimiya, the latter following behind him, still shocked that he’s even present. sure looks like sae always means it when he says he wouldn’t come to gatherings like these.

when he gets to the balcony, earning a cock of oliver’s brow, sae tilts his head, “i was invited, wasn’t i? what’s so surprising about that?”

oliver snickers at sae’s blatant avoidance of the question. deciding he wouldn’t get anything out of him anyway, he shrugs and accepts it. besides, he can already see that sae’s too busy trying to calculate if there’s enough space for him to sit beside you, with the way his eyes are scanning your surroundings. maybe it doesn’t help how eita’s so clingy with you, his arm still around you even when you’ve already straightened up.

both sae and eita are just staring blankly at each other, and everyone is aware of it except for you, because your head’s a little dizzy and you’re still thinking whether sae popping up here is a figment of your imagination.

you’re not that drunk, are you?

you get your answer when a shadow looms over your body, the familiar scent of his cologne wafting into your nose. he smells the same he did that night you kissed him.

“what, this seat taken?” sae asks, and you dumbly look down at the small edge of space beside you.

no, it’s not, but you’re probably going to have to squeeze between him and eita if he sits there, no more legroom. you shift anyway, eita making space (albeit reluctantly), the way sae ends up being so close to you enough to send your mind into overdrive. you’re still wondering why he showed up.

you, and everyone else. not oliver though. he knows why. and it’s not like he wants to intentionally make you cough out your feelings but it looks like the other guys who are oblivious to your feelings are steering in that direction.

“no bianca today?” karasu asks, a mocking tone in his voice.

sae doesn’t show an ounce of emotion, though. “wasn’t with her.”

“why not? scared we’re gonna make you two make out again like last time?” yukimiya asks, finally relaxing back in his seat. he says it jokingly, although you know the sentence at hand probably isn’t a joke.

“wait wait wait, you two made out?” sendou asks, incredulous, mirroring your exact thoughts.

a jealousy creeps up your spine, engulfing your alcohol-riddled distractions. some part of you wants to know what it’d be like to be kissed by him. you purse your lips into a firm line, wondering if you were being an accidental homewrecker by kissing him that night.

“it was just a game,” sae responds, making no moves to drink the beer handed to him.

eita pulls his arms away, moving in favour of getting you a drink. it’s not that he even knows anything that’s going on between you and sae, but he can tell by how you’re stiffening up that you’re probably a little affected. he slides a shot over to you, and you down it with ease.

ignoring the way the other guys keep harping on the topic, sae turns his attention to you, flicking the tip of the cap he gave you, and you shift your gaze to look up at him, the small smirk he gives you when you do making your heart flutter again.

why is it so easy for him to do that to you?

“haven’t sold my cap yet?”

you thank the heavens you’re not too tipsy to be normal. “i’m holding out for higher bids, actually,” you quip, grinning. “you can offer one too if you want it back.”

sae hums, head tilted again as he ponders while staring at you. slowly, he leans down to your ear, whispering so only you can hear him, “how much do i have to bid for you to keep it?”

maybe it’s the liquor, but you feel your cheeks heat up. it can’t be his close proximity. it can’t be the way he’s so close that you can see the beating pulse on his neck. it can’t be the way you think you look more intimate here than you should. definitely can’t be the way all the guys have noticed and are giving each other looks.

why does he even want you to keep it? is this some sort of abstract way that he’s using to tell you that you’re not an accidental homewrecker?

you make a mental reminder to yourself to never get drunk in front of sae. you don’t want to end up blurting out some less-than-decent thoughts of yours.

“what’s wrong? too tipsy now to talk back?” sae asks, and you can only pout at him, not in your usual condition to think of smart comebacks. it makes the corner of his lips tug upwards just a little bit more than usual, his hand coming up to teasingly push the cap down further—in that seemingly affectionate way he does.

and maybe it isn’t such a good idea to agree to continue to play games, not when you got roped into never have i ever and karasu, to the delight of oliver, said he has never fucked anyone at this table. seeing that only you and eita put a finger down, everyone can tell there’s probably a complicated history between you and eita. not that you owe them any explanation, though you kind of do feel the urge to tell sae that it was in the past.

you steal a glance at him beside you, the mild look of surprise befallen on his handsome face. you wonder if he thinks badly of you now. you wonder if he’ll think badly of you when he sees what your life is really like. will he think you’re just going to be a stain on his fancy life that it’ll be better off not knowing you?

or maybe… maybe he has a complicated past too. with bianca.

funnily enough, eita loses after yukimiya says he’s never had sex with more than five girls. the disappointing part is you didn’t really get to know anything interesting about sae.

“hey, you feeling okay? you can stop playing if you wanna,” sae tells you later on, after god knows how many minutes have passed and you’re already onto the next game. you don’t even know why you agreed to play two truths one dare in the first place when you know it’ll just be a shitshow for you.

over the course of x minutes, you’d managed to learn many things, some of which being that karasu and eita had shared a girl in bed, that yukimiya dared to do a body shot on oliver, that sae would consider bianca an important person to him, and that you really can’t make up your mind to go big or go home because oliver had just dared you to spend seven minutes in heaven with anyone of your choosing.

of course, you can safely choose eita and trust him not to do anything if you told him to. but on the flip side, you can choose who you really want. even if you’re not so sure he’d want to anymore.

“you can always choose me,” oliver jokes, lifting the mood. although the smirk on his face makes you question it. “i’ll definitely show you a good time.”

while you’re having an internal dilemma, karasu and sendou are in the background teasing oliver for being fake, saying that he shouldn’t be offering that if he’s already interested in miss manager.

but you snap out of it when the irritated sigh you hear out of sae somehow feels like the world is sending you a sign. in some way. you’re not sure if you’re reaching—is he bothered by oliver’s comments? and why does oliver look so smug all of a sudden?

you’re beginning to regret not being sober, you can’t figure this shit out. but what you do figure out is what you want to do. why think so much about tomorrow when the present is right here?

so you don’t pay it any more thoughts, getting up and dragging sae with you by the shirt, ignoring all the commotion left behind by the guys, save for eita who only stares blankly at you as you drag sae into his own room and lock the door.

“oh shit, sorry dude, didn’t mean to—”

“for the last time, just friends,” otoya snaps, cutting karasu off, although not even sendou believes him. for someone who doesn’t even care to treat people nicely, sendou can at least see that eita treats you a fair bit better than anyone else.

in the room, sae can only watch blankly as you stumble over your feet before finally settling on the edge of otoya’s bed. the envious, green side of him can’t help but wonder how many times you’d been here, in his room, with him. though it’s kind of amusing how you chose to bring sae in here now.

from what sae can tell, you’re probably a little more tipsy than you should be in these types of situation, and a part of him is relieved that you’re not here with anyone else. if you were here with otoya, would you be fooling around by now?

“so, thought you were too tired to show up—what happened?” you ask from where you are on the bed, body swaying slightly, eyes threatening to close.

the moment he takes a seat next to you, you lean close, your head coming to rest on his shoulder, and sae has no doubt that you’d already drank a lot before he came. proximity this close, he can smell the shampoo in your hair, can feel how soft it is.

“i couldn’t sleep, got bored, that’s all.”

your shoulders vibrate slightly as you giggle, pulling away, a suspicious glint in your eyes. “damn, and here i thought you came for me.”

even when you’re intoxicated you still have such a smart mouth. sae shrugs, his gaze turning ever so soft, like every time before when he looks at you. there’s something about you that he can’t quite place, something that makes him act so differently than he usually does, and for once he doesn’t hate it. “did you want me to?”

not taking the bait, you keep up your casual demeanour, even if your eyelids feel heavy and you’re about five seconds away from just passing right out on the bed.

“you know, it’s fine to say you missed me and wanted to see me,” you tell him, grin wide as ever, almost infectious. you’re only surviving on liquid courage right now, the way you unashamedly try to flirt. though, if sae isn’t moving away, does that mean he doesn’t mind?

he looks off to the side, pondering for a while before turning back to you with a straight face, “i missed you, wanted to see you.”

for a moment, you feel like your heart might stop.

“is that what you wanna hear?”

almost instinctively, you grab the stray pillow lying on the bed and fling it at sae, earning an amused laugh from him but you barely realise it, too caught up in the frustration that his words were just strung together to entertain you as opposed to his actual feelings.

crossing your arms, you look away, the exhaustion of the day coupled with the dread of tomorrow nipping away at your consciousness. “don’t patronise me, itoshi sae,” you huff, and you miss the way he looks at you with a smile on his face.

will you remember any of this tomorrow? you’re not drunk, but you’re not exactly thinking straight either.

“were you… very busy this past week?”

your question is voiced so softly, almost like you’re afraid to ask, and sae realises maybe he should’ve at least told you he wouldn’t be able to make it as early as he thought he would.

“yeah, i was.”

technically, he isn’t lying. he was back in japan last saturday, but maybe he had been too wrapped up in his thoughts to do anything else.

“with bianca?”

it’s even softer this time, and for some reason, sae’s almost kind of relieved you’re asking. he just doesn’t know what it is.

“no, not really,” he tells you. it’s complicated, and you don’t even have context; he wouldn’t even know where to begin talking to you about it.

you put your legs up on the bed, hiding your face between your knees, and sae’s left wondering whether alcohol really makes that much of a difference. you seem bold, shy and teasing all at once. his hat is still on your head, your thoughts coming out into the open.

“are you… involved with her?” your voice is muffled, but he hears you loud and clear.

a small smile dawns onto his face, safe from your view. he doesn’t really know the implications of you asking the question, but he likes how you don’t beat around the bush. it’s nice not having to constantly guess what you really mean.

and maybe it’s you rubbing off on him, but he doesn’t answer it straight.

“curious, y/n?”

when you lift your head up to look at him, you see the widest smile he’s ever given you, objectively much smaller and way more subtle than everyone else, but it’s a smile all the same and it makes your heart beat faster in your chest.

“yes,” you answer honestly, because you’re not sure when exactly you’re going to pass out but you have a feeling it’ll be soon and eita’s bed is just so soft.

sae is only mildly stunned by how straightforward you are, so he decides to do you a favour. he doesn’t usually like divulging things like this; topics that bring gossip and are undoubtedly going to come back to him if it gets out. what’s more, you work for a sports magazine so you can totally use this against him, but it isn’t even that you’re intoxicated right now, but more so that he feels he can trust you with it.

slowly, he reaches his hand over, and for once he tips the cap upwards a little so he can see your eyes when he tells you, “stupid, i’m not involved with anyone.” is that clear enough for you? he’s not sure why but he hopes it is.

what does he even want with you?

the moment you hear it, you break out into a wide smile, genuine and actually infectious this time because sae feels the corners of his lips threatening to pull upwards even more. what the heck is this feeling?

“really? i’m so relieved,” you exhale, voice a little airy, looking a little too pretty that sae immediately pulls the cap back downwards. “so,” you move on, adjusting it back in position, daring to move closer to him, face so close to his own that he has nowhere else to look except straight into your eyes. “we have four minutes left. will you grant me whatever i want, itoshi sae?”

you have a habit of calling him by his full name. he makes a mental reminder to get you to change that. not tonight though, he doesn’t want you to forget.

it’s weird how he feels around you; why does he feel so overwhelmed yet want more both at the same time? he swallows the lump in his throat, keeping his composure, “depends, you’re pretty demanding, tell me first and i’ll consider.”

“itoshi sae, i’m not!” you refute, punching him playfully on the arm and he has to hold your arm to stop you from falling off the bed. “i don’t know. the guys outside are probably expecting us to fuck or something.”

there you go, unfiltered and he kind of likes it. his fingers are still around your wrist.

but the answer is crystal clear to him.

“no.”

“huh?” it takes you a while to process. given that the only thoughts in your head as of right now are only: what does sae think of you and eita? and bianca is important to him. “what if it was just a kiss?”

he hums, then shakes his head. “nope.”

“wait, am i not pretty enough for you or something?”

you’re whining and sae finds it cute of all things. you have a tendency to misunderstand, so maybe he needs to adjust how he talks to you. he’ll see. but before he can even say anything else, your head falls into his chest, your regular breathing the only sound that fills the room after. he’s perplexed and amused all at once; how did you manage to fall asleep so quickly?

contrary to your thoughts, sae has always thought you were pretty, ever since the first night he met you. even in your private account where you post yourself in hoodies too big for your body and no makeup, clad in sweats—still pretty.

sae sighs, his fingers stroking your hair now that you’re asleep, and whispering in your ear only when you’re not able to hear him.

“if i do that, i think i’ll end up wanting more.” and you’re drunk and that’s not what he really wants.

but he does give you what you ask for, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

that’ll have to do for now.

“so, nothing happened?” sendou asks, bored, as sae carries you on his back as he comes out of the room.

you’re passed out and drooling on his shoulder and he doesn’t really care about that.

“it’s sae, c’mon, did you expect something?” karasu laughs, all of them coming in from the balcony because in the seven minutes both of you had spent in the room, it managed to start raining. “maybe if it was bianca, y’know, then maybe.”

sae ignores all their passing comments, choosing to walk over to otoya, “hey, she passed out, i’m just gonna take her home.”

as much as sae isn’t particularly fond of otoya, he’s probably your closest friend here and he doesn’t want him to think he’s just going to take advantage of you.

otoya’s green eyes flicker to the clock on the wall before he shakes his head, speaking softly so the others won’t hear. “nah, just put her in the guest bedroom. i’ll send her back in the morning. you can head back first.”

there’s an irritation that builds up inside him, but sae maintains his emotionless expression, remembering that otoya knows you much more than he does. “i could just—”

“she doesn’t want to go home tonight,” otoya cuts in, a warning glare in his eyes. “trust me.”

suddenly, sae remembers the last time he met you, your swollen cheek and the way your eyes were glazed over. and he wants to ask otoya what it’s all about but this is about you, and he really shouldn’t ask someone else.

“fine,” sae concedes. if whatever’s at home makes you miserable, he won’t bring you there. “i’ll put her in there before i go.”

there’s a lot more otoya would like to ask sae, because oliver’s not the only one curious at sae’s seemingly odd behaviour. he wants to know what exactly he thinks about you, but everyone’s still around and it’s not a good time, so he sucks it up and lets it go for tonight.

as sae puts you down on the bed and pulls the blanket over you, he gets a brief flashback of the night he set bianca down in her hotel room. you’re both so similar, and yet not at all.

and when he’s about to turn and go, your fingers reach out to tug at the hem of his jacket sleeve, almost effectively making sae’s heart leap out of his chest. your eyes are still shut, so there’s no chance you’re actually conscious right now. still, your mouth opens.

“stay with me?”

sae stills. do you know it’s him? or do you think he’s otoya? either way, you and bianca really are similar, even when you’re not completely awake. so why… why are his reactions so different?

it’s not like he has anything on tomorrow, so it’s really no imposition.

before he knows it, he’s sitting on the floor, right next to where you sleep on the bed, your fingers enveloped in his palm, his head propped on the mattress, his own exhaustion catching up to him.

it’s been a messy week; trying to gather his thoughts about you every single time he’s free, having to talk to bianca and thinking about that, and then coming back just to see oliver and otoya so close to you that it bothers him a little. finding out about you and otoya takes the cake, though.

how special is otoya to you?

the question lingers unanswered as he drifts to sleep, both of you subconsciously finding comfort in the other’s innocent warmth.

the next morning when you wake up, you’re half shocked half happy to find sae where he is, sleeping there peacefully, the previous night’s exhaustion dissipating from his face.

did he take care of you last night? you can only hope you didn’t puke in front of him. that would be embarrassing.

you’d like to stay, wait for him to wake up and talk to him and make sure you didn’t say or do anything too out of line because your memory’s a little foggy, bits and pieces that you can’t quite piece together or even tell if they’re real or dreams.

but you can’t.

you remember what day it is today and reluctantly get out of bed. though, feeling a little cheeky, you quietly grab a small black marker out of the drawer, suppressing a grin as you scribble on sae’s palms, hoping he won’t wake up from this.

a couple hours later, by the time sae gets up, the bed is cold and still undone. it’s already noon, and somehow the first thing he thinks of when he wakes up is you—are you already home? did otoya send you?

but the question that pops up in the forefront of his mind when he sees otoya lazing around on his couch later on is none of that.

and to be fair, otoya has the very same question in his head.

“do you like her or something? y/n.”

otoya is the one to ask, eyes still glued onto his phone screen, typing something out. sae can’t help but wonder if he’s talking to you.

“what’s it to you?” sae asks. he can hear the snores of the other guys coming from otoya’s room.

otoya shrugs. “just curious. she’s my best friend after all.”

there’s a certain possessiveness in the way he says it that rubs sae the wrong way. still, sae supposes that if otoya’s your best friend, he shouldn’t be too impulsive with his words.

“maybe i like her,” sae says, the tension in the air getting thicker.

“in what way?” otoya still hasn’t looked up from his phone.

“same way you do.”

“i don’t know what you mean.”

otoya scoffs, both of them acting coy with one another. “bianca and y/n, huh? busy guy,” otoya sighs, tossing his phone aside and getting up, walking towards sae, hands in his pocket. both of them are staring the other down, feeling the situation out. “i think i suit y/n better, you can have bianca.”

now it’s sae’s turn to scoff, sharp eyes piercing through otoya’s own. “why don’t we let y/n decide for herself, huh?” he quips, before grabbing his car keys out of his pocket and leaving through the front door.

as he settles down in his car and turns the engine on, it’s only then that he realises the black marks on his palm.

thank you ᡣ𐭩

somehow, just one look at it is enough to ease the tension on his shoulders.

you really can do wonders.

extras !

otoya’s hostility towards sae was intentional.

sae didn’t try to wash your writing off—he let it fade away naturally.

if yn was sober, she would’ve not been as straightforward as he was in the room with sae. but she definitely would’ve flustered sae a lot more with her playful personality.

the whole time, oliver was live recounting the events of the night to miss manager, all of which are left on read.

if bianca had been there, sae would have been a lot more cautious about his actions and probably wouldn’t have acted too close to y/n.

random fact #1: otoya plays bass, used to perform in a band back in university. part of how he got so many girls interested in him but he was always with y/n which made a lot of them unhappy.

random fact #2: sae has never really been jealous before so now that he’s feeling it, he’s a lot more sensitive to it than normal people.

taglist! @yuzurins @saeskiss @raphsimp @lust4rin @mxplesyrvp @chieeeeeee @yumekolovesyukimiya @kunirayuna39 @auranny @sereniteav @gskill @saesgrl @riseena @rikijbol @sagejin @shironagi @veecynii

#bllk x reader #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x reader #bllk x y/n #sae x y/n #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #sae x you #blue lock x you #itoshi sae #itoshi sae imagines #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #itoshi sae fluff #૪ aeri’s fics !

275 notes · View notes

midnight-pluto · 3 months ago

Text

MY MODEL: PG.16 — knock knock

MY MODEL: jing yuan x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: seems like the Xianzhou has hired a freelance photographer to help with their new magazine. however, this model seems to have fallen head over heels for a certain photographer — what exactly is their story?

my model master list || prev. || next

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 1 2023 — 6:22 PM

"HI," IS ALL you let out when you first see the door open to Jing Yuan. There was a small waft of vanilla invading your senses which you couldn't tell if it were Jing Yuan himself or just his abode. His hair wasn't tied up like it usually was, white strands of hair cascading down his shoulders.

He wasn't dressed up like he usually was either, a simple plain black tee paired with light grey sweats. "Hey," he smiled, opening his door wider for you to enter.

Slowly walking into his home, you toe off your shoes leaving them by the shoe rack along with all of Jing Yuan's pairs. Raising your head in order to fully take in the environment around you, you're able to properly deduce that the smell of vanilla was just Jing Yuan.

For a modern penthouse, it's cozy. As you look around you feel a small presence near your feet, along with a small 'meow' reaching your ears.

Looking down you see a very fluffy snow white cat rub against your legs. "Awe, hi baby," you coo, bending down slowly to give them an affectionate rub under their chin to which they eagerly lean into.

You hear the sound of cloth shuffling and see Jing Yuan kneel down next to you as you rub your thumb on the top of his cat's head. "This is Mimi," he says, his baritone voice being a welcome noise to your ears.

"Is that why your private username is like that?" you say back, retracting your hand as Mimi struts back to her owner for some more head rubs.

"Mhm," he hums out, scooping Mimi in his arms to which she gladly accepts as he stands back up. Standing up with him once again, you pull out your phone to take a picture of the domestic sight.

"Don't tell me you're going to pull a Tingyun and sell photocards of me for absurd prices," he chuckles, golden eyes gazing down at you trying to get a good angle for the photo.

"No, just going to make a hit tweet. Or an instagram story, haven't decided yet," you jest, spamming your camera button. "It would turn out better if I brought my digital camera, or my polaroid one if you wanted a physical copy for yourself," you mused aloud, stuffing your phone back into your pocket.

Jing Yuan looked at you for a moment, his eyes having a flash of concern in them, "Have you been getting enough sleep? You look tired."

You chuckle dryly - out of embarrassment he was able to notice or nervousness if he thought any less of you, you couldn't tell, "I've just been busy with shoots and editing like I said earlier, nothing too bad."

"Are you sure you haven't been overworking yourself?" he raised a brow, with Mimi turning her head towards you as well.

'Like father like daughter I guess.'

"Not for my standards," you guiltily say, having a feeling he wouldn't approve of that answer.

His lips turn downwards into a frown, although his frown was more so akin to a pout. "Feel free to rest on the couch for a moment, I'll just be in the kitchen." Jing Yuan guides you to sit on his plush sofa, allowing Mimi to crawl out of his arms in order to be next to you before he walks away to search in his kitchen cabinets.

You watch his actions carefully as he pulls out a mug from the cabinet before you attention is dragged away to Mimi making herself comfortable on your lap. Smiling softly at her action, you slowly make yourself comfortable as well as a way to not disturb her and gently stroke her pale fur.

Swiftly pulling out your phone, you add the photo you had snapped previously to your story before continuing to card your hands through Mimi's soft fur.

The repetitive action makes your eyelids feel heavy, as you make yourself a mental compromise to allow yourself to close your eyes while petting Mimi. Before you know it, your hand pauses as you drift off to sleep.

TAGLIST: @zyphyrr @ohmyfinggod @not-creativequill @klemen-time @nekobluecute @theautisticduck @aixaingela @kokocae @imma-too-many-fandoms @ceylestia @lunavixia @queencybow @arraxthatsonjah @kiiyoooo @immahuman @ksnu @redstappen @kamikokii @rain-and-a-nice-nap @havingnonamesucks @forsh4dow @boomie-123 @ukiyo-ikigai @mjiro @whatamoodhoney @xiaossocksniffer @sxftiebee @poemzcheng @yawnzbf @organeatter @keirennyx @velovicy @superdark-soul @r4yyyyy @fakeblondies @astolary @red-ninja15 @aloveablechaos @crow-bath @unicornprincessmagicfairy @insightedly @rifran @squigglewigglewoo @starryeyedkoko [ if you want to be added, send me an ask or feel free to comment! ]

#my model 📸 - jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan smau #jing yuan x gn reader #hsr x gn reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x gn reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you

91 notes · View notes

kayentokk · 7 months ago

Text

Easy Peasy Sukuna Squeezey(Part 3);What Could Go Wrong

Pairing;Sukuna x Fem! Reader

Summary;What could go wrong during your weekend with Sukuna? Not much except one thing, or one person.

Contains;fluff, lots of fun, ex, sukuna gushing, childhood memories, some cussing

Wc;2,010

A/N;I am literally so sorry, tbh I forgot I made this a series 😅 and then I checked my comments and I was like oh. So my bad guys I will try to update this regularly and get my schedule back together. Also just comment on any of the posts for this series that you want to be tagged to get on the tag list.

Tag list 🏷️; @charlie-xo

Prev. Series M.list Next

The week felt like it took forever to be over, exams, loads of homework, part-time job, all that hectic stuff. But this weekend you get to-well you’re not really sure exactly what Sukuna has in store for you but whatever it is you’re excited for it.

You had texted your roommate the day you were over Sukunas apartment that you’d be staying there at least until the weekend was over. You often stayed at Sukunas for long periods of time when you needed a break or just wanted to hang with your best friend. He never really minded you were pretty good company, in your own words, and he was used to spending long periods of time with you. During school, after school, in the summer, whenever your moms wanted to have a girls night, just whenever.

Anyways your roommate was obviously cool with it, she had mentioned she wanted to have “company” over anyways so it all worked out. You took Sukuna’s advice and blocked your ex, you were probably going to do that anyways since the relationship was definitely over, so you have no idea if he’s texted or called. Not that you care though, he’s an ass and he should have enough shame, decency, and brains not to call and understand it’s over.

To be honest you’re at the acceptance stage of grief, it is what it is he wasn’t the one for you, but it still sucks. Sukuna has actually been really helpful, he’s been, for lack of a better word, a great distraction. He won’t tell you what he has planned for tonight though, all he said was to be ready in pajamas. Maybe a movie night?

You guys used to do those every Friday, but then college got too hectic with it being senior year and all. Sukuna said his classes are pretty easy, although you aren’t too surprised on that one he’s always been exceptionally intelligent, he claims it’s because he just decided to major in business since he’s not exactly sure what he wants to do.

He didn’t want to be a chef, even though he’s exceptionally talented in cooking too, but he’s a waiter at a restaurant for his part time job. When he first got that job you visited to see the restaurant, and him, it was a nice little quiet diner. He was annoyed and disgusted about it on the outside but you could tell he was embarrassed about you visiting, mostly because one time there was a couple that sat in the booth behind you and made comments about, “young love.” And every time you would sit in that same booth just to annoy him because you knew he thought about it each time, it was honestly hilarious. You and him? Being a couple? What a joke.

Sukuna texted he was on his way back, he had a lecture that was in the evening that day and he left a little early to start you guys’ weekend plans. Apparently you hadn’t been paying much attention to any calls or messages because you had about 10 missed calls from your friend and a dozen text messages. You immediately called back.

“Hello? Girl! Why have you not picked up, I’ve been calling you for forever.”

“I’m sorry! I was just laying here, and I had on dnd from when I was in classes earlier. I guess I never turned it off,” you replied in an anxious tone.

Mai just sighed before continuing, “anyways your boyfriend-“

“Ex,” you cut her off before she could even begin.

“Your ex-boyfriend,” she corrected herself with irritation, “has been showing up like every other hour asking about you, and I wasn’t paying much attention before but I’m pretty sure his car was outside yesterday for a while. He’s probably waiting on you, has he texted?”

“I don’t know if he’s texted I blocked him. That’s probably why he’s showing up, he thinks I’m home. Just ignore him, and if he continues to knock call the police or something.”

“Why can’t he just leave you alone? It’s clearly over, there’s nothing there anymore.”

“I know, I’m so sorry by the way.”

“You’re fine, enjoy your weekend babes! I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Mhm my company should be over soon, talk to you later, be safe.”

“Kk you too, bye Mai,” and with a small beep, the call ended.

He was coming by every hour? How insane. You hoped he wouldn’t give Mai much trouble, but then again she could handle herself. What if he knew you were at Sukuna’s? Well he didn’t know the address….he’s dropped you off before though. Maybe he doesn’t remember it? Oh no what if he shows up?! And then your whole weekend of distraction will be ruined, and all of Sukuna’s hard work will be-

“-n? Y/n! Hey, Earth to y/n again. Seems like I’m having to do that a lot this week huh?” Sukuna jokes.

“Hm, oh yeah sorry-“ you say lost in your thoughts.

“Uhh you sure? Why’re you all spaced out?”

“It’s nothing-“

“We both know it’s not nothing you might as well tell me, you’re not very good at your poker face I’ll have to teach you sometime,” he says playfully.

“It’s just- he showed up at my apartment. He was looking for me-“

“But you’re not there so what’s the problem?”

“Mai is there, which I’m sure she’s fine he’s not crazy he’s just a whore, but what if he shows up here?”

“Wow never thought I’d hear you slut shame someone, that’s a new low y/n,” he smiles and then continues, “but you don’t have to worry about him showing up here. That is if he knows what’s good for him.”

Oh yeah one small thing, the time your ex dropped you off him and Sukuna did not get along. It was the briefest moment, it felt like when your dad dropped you back off at your moms’ after spending a weekend with him, but it was tense. You could tell, Sukuna’s sharp maroon gaze stayed on him even after you had stepped inside. So, safe to say he’d have to be pretty ballsy to show up here.

“Put on some boots or something we’re going out,” Sukuna says gruffly.

“Going out where? I’m in pajamas-“

“I know, good. I told you to be, glad to know you listen.”

You scoffed, “no way I’m going in public like this-,” you gestured with your hands waving in an up and down movement to your unprofessional getup.

“Relax. You won’t be the only one, I’m about to change too.”

“Oh because two of us looking like we just rolled out of bed is better than one,” you said sarcastically.

“Exactly, I knew you’d get it I had to admit I was getting a little worried there,” he teased.

“Oh shut up dimwit,” you said smiling.

There it was again, stunning.

Sukuna went to quickly throw on some sweats and an old faded t-shirt, probably sporting some random band. He grabbed his keys, and you were out the door.

You loved night time drives, everything just hit different. The music vibed better, especially when Sukuna let you have the aux, the car ride is just more fun at night. When you arrived at the destination Sukuna parked the car and reached to turn the knob on the volume down.

“Look where we are,” he said turning to stare at you.

You immediately turned to look out the window, and even though it took you a second you realized-

With a big shriek and gasp you turned back to Sukuna, “this is-!”

“The ‘best convenience store ever in our hometown’ I know you said it to me so much it’s engraved in my brain.”

Sparkles were in your eyes, along with some unshed tears. So many great memories were here. Every time you passed a test with an A your mom would bring you here to get your favorite snack, and since Sukuna always did well on tests you’d take him about once a month to continue the tradition. But then you guys’ campus was at least a 35 minute commute from here, and when it was busy during the day maybe 45, so you stopped coming. There just wasn’t enough time and you guys got really busy. But not many people were on the road at night, and with Sukuna’s driving you guys probably made it there in 20-25 minutes tops.

You were so happy you could scream. It was apparent in your face, the brightest smile. You jumped out of the car and immediately ran into the store, Sukuna not far too behind you.

You had already grabbed one of the small dark green dingy looking baskets, ah the same as always, from the entrance and were halfway down your favorite aisle by the time he got inside.

He greeted the kind old lady at the register who had witnessed your excitement just moments ago, screeching with joy, which scared her when you rushed in.

He quickly found the aisle you were in and watched you decide which snacks you wanted, carefully picking the items and placing them in the basket.

You rushed from one place to another, grabbing drinks, chips, snacks, anything you wanted because who knows when you’ll visit here again. Then you just stopped, and Sukuna watching your madness didn’t think you were ever going to. Then your eyes started to well up with worry.

“What’s wrong?”

“I- I left my wallet back at your apartment, I can’t buy any of this-“

“What? I’m obviously buying, dimwit,” he scoffed repeating your words from earlier.

“Really?” You asked, the excitement immediately perking back up inside you.

He didn’t even get to answer before you continued happily on your shopping spree, how could he say no anyways? By the time you were done you couldn’t even pick up your basket. You quickly looked to Sukuna for help, and he rolled his eyes taking the basket with his left arm. You began to giggle watching him walk to the register. You couldn’t help it, the sight of him carrying a basket like a soccer mom was just too funny.

A stuffed full basket being carried by his well built arm, the vein bulging from the somewhat strenuous task being carried out. His hand flexing and unflexing to stretch after putting the basket down, making the veins even more visible as they pop out due to his contractions-

“Y/n? You coming? Don’t you wanna get home to eat all this stuff?”

You quickly snapped out of your haze, and ran up to the register where Sukuna had already taken his wallet out to pay, making a comment about how you were most definitely going to eat it in his car. You left a happy customer that day.

Before you left you made Sukuna stop in front of the shop so that you could snap a quick photo of the two of you together, you wanted to send it to your moms.

You smiled the whole car ride home, and when you got in the house.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely with a huge grin on your face.

“Yeah, yeah I know I’m the best,” he replied with a smirk.

“Can you cook the ramen please?”

“Who else was gonna-“

And then the shrill ring of the doorbell rang.

“Are you expecting someone?”

“No, no one comes over here. Maybe it’s just a package.”

“At 10pm?”

“I don’t know, maybe some drunk has the wrong door.”

Then it rang again.

“Okay maybe not…”