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kattomei · 3 months ago

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Fic where insecure!reader who strives for perfection keeps accepting other people's requests at the expense of her health and Sebastian is left to follow her around everywhere because he's concerned and worried half to death, lol.

Wordcount: 4,874

Warnings: none. Just tooth-rotting fluff and a very stressed out Seb.

(this is my first ever fanfic pls be nice...I do appreciate any constructive criticism tho- and I'm also in the process of writing a few others, i alr have a crap ton of drafts so stick around if u happen to like this one! ☺️)

Sebastian noticed a gradual shift in your once-lively demeanor. Your usual sunny disposition, which seemed to consistently lift the spirits of those around you, was now tinged with a growing exhaustion of some sort. The usual bounce in your step was replaced by a slightly slower, lagging stride, and your typical bright smile that could instantly push away any dreariness out of a room was now feeling subtly gloomier.

The changes were miniscule at most, but Sebastian pondered internally that, had he not been watching you so closely, he would've otherwise thought nothing was amiss.

Even your conversations had become disheartening, as his recent attempts had only been met with a sense of detachment. He had grown to long for your usual, easy flow of banter and witty remarks. Despite Sebastian's best efforts to keep your exchanges the same, that had only served to make it feel even more forced and one-sided as he observed you in classes, your gaze seeming to frequently be unfocused and your mind, lacking of any coherent thought.

At first, Sebastian dismissed the changes as nothing out of the ordinary, as everyone had all been preparing for the approaching N.E.W.T.'s exams. He simply reasoned that similar signs of fatigue could be observed in his fellow sixth-years, attributing to the stress that comes with these events.

----

As morning brightness streamed through the Transfiguration's classroom windows, You, Poppy and Natty sat side by side, engaged in silent contemplation, having an almost unspoken agreement on not to converse as the looming threat of exams has all but drained you three completely.

Mrs. Weasley's rather authoritive voice encompassed the otherwise silent space. Though most of her words seemed to lack any coherence as you actively fought the sleep taking over your slumped form.

You hadn't even realised when the exhaustion had won your silent battle but you're quickly awakened by Poppy's warm palm on your shoulder, fluttering your eyes open to be met with her concerned gaze

"Are you okay?" The hufflepuff noted the unusual darkness circling your undereye, peering behind you to share a troubled expression with Natty.

"I'm fine, no worries." You quickly dismissed her and shook your head enthusiastically, ignoring how the action had all but made the room spin.

Natty's worried voice spoke up from behind you, "Are you sure? It is not like you to fall asleep, and during class hours no less." she insisted.

"I assure you both, I'm feeling quite alright." you piped, rather frantically and curse at the slight waver in your voice, certain that both girls had noticed it. You straightened your shoulders from it's slouched position, as if to further prove your point. Natty's scrutinizing gaze made it clear that the feeble attempt hadn't convinced her, however.

The minutes ticked by slowly, each of them feeling like an eternity. The class seemed to last significantly longer than usual, further adding to your mild frustration. However, your clouded thinking, or rather lack thereof, was eventually interrupted by the booming voice of Mrs. Weasley..

"Now, I would like all of you to repeat after me, AH-viss." Her command was followed soon after by echoed choruses of the incantation from the class. "Very well. Now, Kindly try it for yourself. Do remember the meticulous 'M' movement, lest you find the idea of being faced with countless squawking, flightless creatures compelling." She grimaced as though an unsavoury memory flashed in her mind, before shortly replacing it with her usual assuring smile.

Even without paying close attention, you heard enough to know that the spell's purpose was to conjure several, flying medium sized birds. You Steadily pulled out your wand, and point it upwards, you steel yourself... then tensed. Pausing for a moment, you rack your brain to recall the incantation.

Just as your worries began to mount, Poppy's clear words suddenly piped from beside you, looking over you see her apprehensively whipping her wand : "Avis!" Despite the timid attempt at casting, her incantation rang out with such clarity that you questioned briefly if she had noticed your silent struggle.

You silently thanked her eitherway, and with a steadied hand, you took a small breath before casting, "Avis!" With a swift flick of your wand, a loud boom reverberated through the air, like a shot from a gun. As the smoke cleared, your gaze settled on the small, twittering bird now infront of you. It's wings fluttered clumsily as it heaved it's body afloat with visible effort.

Looking to your right you see Natty with her assortment of conjured birds swiftly circling around her head - a stark contrast to your own haphazardly flying bird. It was clear that was how the spell was supposed to work, an array of birds instead of the lone creature you had conjured.

Natty directed her gaze towards you as her eyes flicked down and noticed your meager creation. She tilted her head to examine your chubby aviary. Her expression turned visibly worried as she noted the sorry state of your conjured bird. She knew that, normally, your class performance was held to a high standard, often even rivalling her own. However, observing the stuttered beating of your bird's wing only deepened her concern further.

When class had finally ended, you wasted no time in quickly pushing yourself off your seat and striding out the door, knowingly avoiding your friends' impending interrogation.

You slipped out into the hall, and maneuvered around the sea of students with practiced agility. As you strode down the corridor, you were keenly aware of the presence of Poppy and Natty trailing behind you, their footsteps growing nearer with each passing moment. This thought had only caused you to hasten your hurried pace.

Quickly rounding a corner your forehead slams against someone's firm chest and two calloused hands perched itself onto your shoulders to help keep you steady, the familiar scent of books and pine fills your senses. As you look up to confirm your suspicions you see that it's none other than the subject to most of your budding affections since the past year.

Sebastian's shocked expression shifts into one of fondness as he realises that it's you. He then presents you with his usual charming grin. Sensing your distress shortly after though, his face drops, and his warm hand tightens it's hold against your shoulder blades.

"You alright? You look like you've just sprinted through an angry horde of diricawls." He masks his growing concern with humour in attempt to alleviate your tension and he can't help but crack a small smile as he feels you relax under his palm.

"Merlin, why does everybody keep asking me that.." You groan loudly infront of the boy, and he rolls his eyes in response, smiling fondly. "I don't know, It might be because you more or less resemble a pesky raccoon with how dark your undereyes have gotten."

"Oh, bugger off, will you?" you merely huff out indignantly and cross your arms in response. The action only serves to make him laugh, his boyish charm radiating off of his echoed laugher, and you unconsciously melt against his hold.

Sebastian's laughter fades as his gaze dropped back to study you intently, causing you to squirm subtly under the intensity of his stare. His amusement quickly gave way to concern as he asked with more seriousness, his tone softer than before, "No, but seriously, you've been looking a bit worse for wear these past few days. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Been keeping a close eye on me, have you?" You chimed, your lips tugging upwards into a slight smirk before you could stop yourself. Sebastian merely quirks an eyebrow at your insinuation, and you shift uncomfortably under him when his signature charming grin slowly made it's way onto his face. He had to admit that he missed your rather flirty banter and snarky remarks (not sure if you ever meant to make it seem that way, but he liked to think you did.)

Sebastian's voice came out casual and nonchalant, almost playful, as he continued, "Despite your usual, slow judgement, I can see you know. Besides, who could possibly resist keeping their eyes on you? " His words were spoken casually, yet held a hint of flirtation, a slight jab at your obliviousness to his observation.

Before you could even question what he meant, Poppy's voice rings throughout the hall calling out your name, making you look over your shoulder to see her and Natty steadily closing the distance between the four of you.

Without sparing the boy a reply you swiftly duck against Sebastian's hold and hurriedly jog away from his tall frame. Not looking back, you beeline to your next class and silently pray that nobody else bombards you with the same queries and worried glances that had been plaguing you all morning.

Sebastian was left to stand alone, shock evident on his face as his arms are left frozen midair where it had once been grasping your slender shoulders, his form unmoving and mind still reeling from your abrupt departure.

Snapping out of his daze, his head snapped from your steadily distancing frame to your friends' approaching figures. Both girls had finally managed to reach him, and the duo were left slightly breathless.

Sebastian, being the ever courteous lad that he was, waited patiently for the two to gather their bearings before shooting each of them a questioning look.

"That girl does not know when to take a break!" Natty heaved slightly panting, whereas Poppy slumped over herself from beside Natty, her hands perched on her own chest as visible distress plastered itself on her usual calm and serene face.

"She's been performing quite poorly in class and has even been dozing off. 'Suspect she's exhausted.." Poppy said, frowning and continued "It's nothing outrageous for a student of course, especially now during N.E.W.T's... But you know better than anyone how she normally is, Sebastian. She'd sooner lick the floor rather than let her grades drop.." She mused worriedly.

Sebastian did, in fact know better than anyone that you would strive for the best grades you could possibly get, seeming to brighten with the validation you received from professor's whenever you performed particularly well in classes.

He couldn't help but sink deeper into concern when he realised that at this point, it wasn't just him who noticed your peculiar behaviour. He worried what kind of predicament weighed your otherwise steadfast bright and energetic demeanour and cause it to dimmer significantly.

---

This tiring game of cat and mouse continue as the trio fight tooth and nail to try and drag you into resting. And as another day passes by, more of your mutual friends start picking up on your recent oddities.

Garreth confessed that while he usually did respect you dearly, he couldn't resist the fits of laughter bubbling from his chest at the sight of you, covered in black soot. You were brewing a batch of Wiggenwald and it all but exploded into your face. The dark substance had coated your normally otherwise pristine and spotless skin.

After a while even Ominis, despite lacking the significant bodily sensation of sight, managed to notice your tired energy contrasting the usual sunny girl he's come to know. Everyone tries everything they can to make you rest, but for someone who possesses a considerably fragile disposition you owned a rather steel hard stubbornness (much to your friends displeasure).

Normally, Sebastian would think this trait of yours quite endearing, but these days between everyone including him trying to force you to rest and only having you huffing and rejecting is just proving to irk him more and more.

You've been trying to ignore the dizzying sensations badgering you in random hours the entirety of the day. Afternoon arrives and you're walking with Sebastian and Ominis towards the Potions wing.

Striding rather abruptly, your vision blurs in an instant and the room starts spinning, stumbling slightly you steady yourself in a frenzy and attempt to mask the growing throbbing of your head, hoping to Merlin that both boys had failed to notice.

Purposely avoiding their line of gaze you hurriedly continue to walk forward, missing the deep scowl now etched onto Sebastian's lip and Ominis' visible agitation, the latter's wand pulsing a radiant red.

***

As Sebastian spots you in the hall the next day, you seemed to look worse than ever before, skin ghastly pale and your usual vibrant face lacking any of it's normal vigor. You looked ready to pass out at any given moment, before he could stop himself he followed you out of heavy concern, purposely sticking to you at a safe distance, intent and ready to catch you when you inevitably fainted before you had the chance to even hit the floor.

He trailed behind your form as quietly as he could (though he doubted there was any use in that since you looked as if your mind held no coherent thought whatsoever.)

You turned a corner and he stalked silently over to the wall to peek his head out. Taking in the view just in time to see a Hufflepuff walking over to greet you, stopping abruptly and leaning his back against the wall he hears the girl say "I'm Adelaide Oakes, you're that sixth year everyone's been talking about since last July aren't you? I've heard about your... endeavours through countless others and I've been hoping to get some time alone with you..."

Sensing where this was going Sebastian leans forward to hear better into the conversation, hoping, praying that you wouldn't even entertain the idea on accepting whatever this girl was going to ask of you.

The aforementioned said something about suspecting her dear uncle had gotten himself in a band of goblin's bad favours, and she continued by expressing the worry it had all caused her for the past week. Sebastian mentally cursed as he saw your tired eyes softening at the troubled girl's words, knowing full well that you were going to accept the moment the girl finished talking.

Sebastian suspected you were planning to sneak out the moment classes were over, and his mind was already whirling with ideas on how to prevent you from doing so.

With your last class of the day being Arithmancy, Sebastian had already decided that he would intercept you the second you stepped out of the classroom, determined to stop you from carrying out your plan.

As the Slytherin made his way towards his next class, his thoughts drifted off, and he couldn't help but mull over why you seemed to be so willing to help someone else in such a state. Sauntering along, he found himself puzzling over your decision.

He arrived at his designated seat in class and settled down, resting his chin on his palm as his brows scrunched together in thought. Sebastian found himself lost in contemplation, mentally tuning out Professor Weasley's lecture.

Sebastian reached his conclusion as the class continued, realizing that your willingness to help stemmed from your ridiculously kind nature. He thought that you simply couldn't bear the thought of saying no to anyone, and he silently lamented this thought throughout the remainder of the class.

***

But of course, something just had to go wrong. The second Professor Weasley dismissed Transfiguration classes, Sebastian bolted upright and ran straight through the door before most had even gotten the chance to take a few steps from their desks.

'Why does the castle's halls have to be so darn crowded this particular time of day?' Sebastian thought bitterly to himself, shoving his way into the cramped cluster of students.

Reaching his destination infront of the open classroom door, Sebastian cursed again, his eyes darting from side to side as he scanned the room, desperately searching the area for any sign of you. Spinning quickly, he anxiously scoured the corridor, but you remained nowhere to be seen.

After glumly kicking the nearby doorframe, Sebastian stalked away with a deep frown, opting to wait for your return instead. He overheard the general direction the girl had pointed you in and thought you would most likely enter through the north exit, passing by a grandfather clock, he noted the time:

5:30 in the afternoon.

With a huff, he sat himself down in front of the giant double doors, stilling as he prepared to wait for your return, ready to tend to you the moment you entered.

----

Weakly striding up the Hogwarts ground's north entrance you reached a hand up to push open the heavy, double door. The sun peeked out of the horizon, steadily rising as some birds started to chirp, all while the cold morning air nipped against your flushed cheeks, Your palm perched on your forehead as a deep gash on your shoulder prevented you on making use of both hands.

Trudging upwards, you swayed under the dizziness and fatigue. Besides the crimson slice across your upper arm, your body was littered with bruises and other minor injuries, your mind, foggy. Wondering how you'd even managed to escape alive and rescue Adelaide's uncle considering your already pitiful state - you had no idea.

Pushing open the large entrance, you stepped inside, your head throbbed painfully as the heavy door slammed shut with a deafening thud.

----

Sebastian's slouched form jerked awake from the echoing sound of the door closing. Rubbing his eyes, his vision focused on the figure now standing at the entryway. Hastily standing up to squint at the figure, he's greeted by a clear view of your disheveled appearance infront of him.

Sebastian observed you taking a few steps forward, and he slowly started to stride towards you. You seemed to be in such a daze that you failed to have even noticed his approaching presence.

Sebastian's concern escalates as he watches you waver and wobble on your feet. Unconsciously, he transitions his stride into a jog, and then a sprint, quickly closing the distance between you- just in time to catch you right before your body collapsed, preventing your unconscious form from hitting the cold marble floor.

***

Waking up to the view of the hospital wing's pristine white ceiling you gingerly blink a few more times in attempt to try and refocus your vision.

Turning your head to the side, you're greeted with Sebastian's slouched form sitting on a stool beside you. Dark circles encompassed his undereye and his hair seemed to be messier than usual. He seemed to be in deep thought, both elbows on his knees and chin resting on his palm, brows furrowed while he chewed on his bottom lip, staring intensely at a corner of the room.

His gaze wandered until it locked with yours, without warning he swiftly straightened his body and clutched your unmoving hand positioned on your side. He seemed to be in an internal debate with himself as his mouth closed and opened repeatedly.

Finally, after silently confirming that you seemed to be in a steady enough condition, he yelled loudly, making you visibly flinch in response to the sheer volume and intensity of his voice. "How could you have been so utterly daft!? You've been out doing who knows what, running around the highlands doing favours while being in such a state!? Imelda had been going at it in my ear for the better part of the morning reprimanding me for ever letting you get away with all of it in the first place-- And honestly I can't blame her! Merlin , If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were intentionally trying to get yourself killed!"

You were speechless, you had expected some sort of lecture, but definitely not something that heated. You stupidly stared at him with wide eyes paired with a slightly agape mouth, until finally managing to sputter something out. "I-I'm...sorry...?"

You were surprised at his outburst because you hadn't ever witnessed Sebastian being this emotional, except when it was something that had been related to Anne.

Unbeknownst to you, the sight of your bedridden form, pale complexion, cracked lips, and labored, shallow breaths had all but hit Sebastian with a gut-wrenching familiarity. He simply couldn't bare the concerning resemblance you momentarily held of his cursed twin, and without thinking, he had lashed out the emotions of his revelation to you.

Letting out a shaky exhale he rested his gaze back onto yours, his eyes round and forehead wrinkled. "You.... I don't understand. Why on Merlin's name, would you do something so foolish? "

Wincing at the sharp edge in the last word of his question, you averted your gaze, shame washing over you as you instinctively pressed your lips together in a thin, tight line. "I...I'm sorry, I just, I-.." Mentally cursing at your pathetic stammering, your face steadily grew hot, and your eyes brimmed with tears. "u-uhm-...." Your voice cracked, forcing you to briefly clench your eyes shut to contain the tears threatening to spill over.

Sebastian instantly softened and unconsciously rubbed his thumb over the back of your clutched hand. "I apologise, I... While I daresay this wasn't an overreaction on my part, eitherway I'm still sorry." A few seconds of silence pass before he continues. "I get that you find it difficult to reject favours... But is it truly that hard to say no for you?"

Swallowing heavily, you slowly shake your head, denying his prior assumption which, in turn earns you a confused stare from Sebastian. "...I don't do it because I find it difficult to say no to others."

Pausing, you hesitantly look back at the boy and he replies, slowly. "Then why..?" Inhaling a sharp breath you continue, "I do it to feel like I'm a better person than I actually am.. I'm just constantly worried about what others think of me. This image of being the almighty 'Hero of Hogwarts' It's...It's like a shadow that follows me everywhere, and... I'm scared of the day when everyone realises that I'm really... nobody special."

"Bullshit." Sebastian firmly speaks out, making you stare at him with wide eyes. Brief silence envelopes you both, the slytherin pauses to sigh deeply before looking at you with furrowed brows paired with wide, round eyes before giving your hand another gentle squeeze.

"Where on earth have you been getting these ideas?" He asks, before his expression of gentle concern shifts to one of anger "Has someone been planting these absurdities into your head??" Hastily, you shake your head and it takes a moment for Sebastian to recollect himself before directing an incredulous stare at you (as if it was hard for him to comprehend that you could even think you weren't deserving of your reputation and title.) Because truthfully, he thought you of all people deserved it most, and he would sooner dive fifty meters off the edge of a cliff before letting you think differently.

He rubs his thumb over the back of your palm again before raising his unoccupied hand onto your upper arm and slowly sliding it onto your shoulder. "You're absolutely unreal. I mean, the least you could do to appear more human is to grow an insufferably large ego- to match all the things you've managed to do. I mean, of all the thick-headed prats I know... none of them could even begin to compare with all the things you've accomplished."

Suddenly, the room feels considerably warmer, the thick hospital blanket draped down your lower body suddenly becoming more unbearable as the seconds ticked by, you're avoiding Sebastian's gaze as he addresses you with the utmost gentleness you've ever heard someone speak.

"....Think about it, you started late into hogwarts-- fifth year, where OWL's and every heavy workload starts piling up when you were running behind in five years worth of education. And yet you managed to pass through considerably one of the hardest exams in hogwarts being only second to N.E.W.T's in difficulty- and all the while fighting trolls, poachers, goblins and ashwinders and who knows what every other day like they were child's play, WITH your limited duelling knowledge."

Sebastian retracts his hand from your shoulder and launches it onto his messy hair, pushing the strands back with his fingers before abruptly leaning his head back to let out an unbashed laugh and dropping it back down to lock eyes with you. "Bloody hell, don't even get me started on your duelling. I mean, you managed to beat me! Reigning duelling champion with Levioso! A damn first-year level levitation charm! On your first day, no less!"

The brunette scoffed and rolled his eyes as you giggle, feigning annoyance while he secretly feels himself melt at the sound. "Yeah, you're probably feeling quite pleased with yourself now, aren't you?" His scowl gradually faded into an endearing smile as he gazed back at you. "Good."

Your laughter falters as you're caught off guard by the look of fondness his gaze held as he stared at you. He continues his verbal tirade, but this time he looks to the side, opposite of you, unable to meet your gaze as he blurts out the last of his confession.

"I don't know how you ever came to the conclusion that you're somehow undeserving of everything you've rightfully earned. Well, I'll even go as far as disagree and say that you deserve more... But- that's not the point" He falters for a brief moment, stuttering slightly as his ears flush a delicate shade of red, and you can't help but bite your lip, suppressing a giggle at the sight.

He inhales sharply, before continuing speaking, his tone filled with conviction. "But... I know you better than anyone else. And I can say this with absolute certainty, you are far from a nobody. You're strong... kind,- and one of the bravest people I know. You may not see it, but trust me, you're anything but insignificant." Your breath catches in your throat as he slowly turns his head back to look at you .

Silence hangs in the air as the two of you lock eyes for a while. You take a deep breath and summon your courage, raising your free hand, you gently rest it on his, the one that's grasping your own. His eyes follow the movement closely, then he snaps his gaze back to your face. A demure smile graces your lips, unknowingly making his heart stutter at the sight. Then, you give his hand a firm, reassuring squeeze, and he swears he felt his soul ascend for a brief second.

Your shared little moment is quickly dissolved as the hospital wing's doors slam open, the familiar view of your friend group marching in. Instinctively, you tug both your hands out of his grasp, momentarily pulling your conjoined hands, and in turn, Sebastian- forward from the sudden action.

Imelda's familiar rumbustious voice fills the quiet room. "Nice of you to rejoin the land of the living." she announces, whereas Poppy quickly makes her way over to your side, opposite of where Sebastian was situated.

"Does your head hurt?-" Not giving you any time to reply, she hastily grabs both your shoulders. "Your shoulders are so tense- I'll ask Nurse Blainey to prepare you a calming draught right after this." She coos, before swiftly raising a hand over to your forehead "Oh my, you're heating up...Your face is unbelievably red- Oh, poor you-"

"Merlin, let the girl breathe Poppy." Imelda barks out a laugh from the foot of your mattress. You manage to flash a weak smile to the worried hufflepuff before she reluctantly leans back and steps away from your bed.

Sneaking a quick glance back over to Sebastian, you're greeted with the view of him unmistakably pouting, his hand left on the spot ontop of your bed where you had pulled away from him. Your train of thought is interrupted by the sound of Ominis' musing.

"I can't say we didn't tell you something like this would end up happening if you didn't stop, but you're just as stubborn as our dear Mr. Sallow, here." Everyone collectively shares a laugh before Natty steps over to your side holding up a pile of parchment.

"It's some of our classwork you missed throughout the day, we all decided to help out in gathering it.... To make sure you wouldn't miss out on any of the lessons." the girl smiled before putting the assortment of work on your bedside table.

"Thank Natty, She thought about the idea first, she deserves most of the credit." Garreth confesses, effectively causing Natty to rub her neck, and she looks over to you, bashful. "Well, I don't share all the same classes with you, so none of this could have been done without everyone's help."

As the group steadily starts talking between themselves, You slowly slide your hand over to Sebastian's, your touch tentative as you shyly maneuver to link your pinky with his, keeping your gaze fixed on your chatting friends. He's initially caught-off-guard by the gesture but quickly responds by shifting his finger to press gently against yours, his pout transforming into a subtle, tender smile.

In your mind, you made a mental note to talk to Sebastian after your friends left, with the intention of continuing your prior conversation to where it had been left off.

#sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x reader #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #hogwarts legacy #imelda reyes #poppy sweeting #natsai onai #insecure reader

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its-jaytothemee · 6 months ago

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A Blanket of Bear

Read on AO3

Word count: 1,098 one shot

Tags: Halsin x reader, fluff, fluff without plot, ear nibbles, soft Halsin

Summary: Halsin refuses to take a break since the two of you returned to Thaniel's Realm. Luckily for him, you always know what he wants without him needing to ask.

A/N: Just some more Halsin fluff that nobody asked for but you all definitely need. A quick one shot from a prompt in a discord server. Enjoy some tooth-rotting marshmallow fluff and ear nibbles.

Bedtime must have been an ordeal tonight.

You sit in your bed, book in hand, waiting for Halsin to finish his nightly rounds with the children. Normally, you’d be there helping but he insisted you get the evening off. The past week or so had been a long one. Two of the old buildings in Reithwin were crumbling beyond repair, causing a significant delay in rebuilding. On top of that, a couple of the children dared each other to eat spoiled mushrooms, causing a fever to spread through many of them. Then today, you found out that the new berry patch you had started a few weeks ago had been infected with a blight and had to be burned away.

You’d really hoped to have fresh berries to top the honey cake you planned to make for Halsin’s birthday.

Over the sound of the fire crackling in front of you, you hear the soft clack of your cottage’s door opening and closing. The familiar sound of his footsteps causes you to mark the page you were reading before setting it to the side. Not a moment later, Halsin is standing in the doorway.

“My heart.” He has a tired smile on his face, his eyes look heavy, and his shoulders are drooping.

“What is it, love?” You hold your hand out, inviting him closer.

“Just the fatigue of an old druid trying to keep up with eighty-some children.” He takes a deep breath before coming to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Then you should have let me help you.” You reach out and gently stroke his back. “You know, I could always give you an evening off as well. I’d say you more than deserve it.”

“Oh no, that’s not necessary. Besides, I shudder to think what chaos the children will cause should I fail to deliver a bedtime story.” His affectionate chuckle makes you feel warm from head to toe. He would never admit it, but he was tired. As much as he adored the children in their care and how much he believed in their cause of building this community, he just wouldn’t admit that the past months had also exhausted him to the bone.

“I can tell stories! I’ve told many, you may remember.” You cross your arms, a playful scowl clouding your face.

“Yes, usually with my help if I’m not mistaken.” He smiles that perfect smile at you, the one that makes your heart flutter, and your cheeks redden.

“Well, you do have the best voices for the monsters, my love.”

He leans over and presses his forehead to yours before placing a light kiss on your lips.

“You’re so sweet to worry about me, my heart. But this task was one I decided for myself, for us. I owe it to you and everyone else here to see it through.”

“Halsin,” you reach up to tuck a runaway hair behind his ear, “you don’t have to be everything for everyone every second of the day. You’ve spent more than enough time feeling responsible for others. Let someone take care of you for once.”

“Well, that’s what I have you for, is it not? The only person in a century to give me the chance to sit and enjoy nature once again.” He kisses the back of your hand before staring back into your eyes. Those gorgeous, hazel eyes have seen every part of you, loved every part of you.

“Of course.” You smile back at him, knowing exactly what he wants right now, although he’s never willing to ask it of you.

You scoot back in the bed to lean against the headboard, a pillow propped behind your back for comfort. A knowing grin tugs at his lips from the movement. You hold your arms out, inviting him to come lay against you. He turns his back to you, snuggling himself between your legs, laying his head on your chest.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting your hands rest on his chest. He takes a few deep breaths as he relaxes into your embrace. With every stroke of your hand across his torso, he melts further into you. You slowly trace your fingers around his shoulders, the lines and grooves memorized from your nights together. He mirrors the light touches on your thighs, sending shivers throughout your body.

Halsin nestles himself further in between your legs, his warm body a comforting weight pinning you down. You know that if you can get him to relax just a little further, he’ll easily drift into a trance in your arms.

You continue your gentle massaging, easing the tension in his muscled shoulders and earning you soft, content sighs. When you run your hands through his hair he leans further into your touch.

“My heart?” He asks with the tired tone of a child fighting a nap.

“Yes, my bear?”

“Would you…” He trails off, still not willing to ask for anything for himself. You smile to yourself, thankful that you know what he wants without him needing to ask.

You pull him closer to you, once again wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. Despite his size, he always feels so much smaller when you hold him like this. Like he shrinks himself down to fit into your embrace better. You lean forward a little so you can press a kiss into the skin where his hair meets his neck, just behind his ear. Slowly, you move your lips to his ear, grazing them up and down the edge, every now and then pausing to nip in the spots he liked – the pointed tip, the lobe. Your gentle nibbles cause little bumps to rise up all over his skin. You let your lips wander up and down his neck before coming back to his ears, those perfect kissable ears. Alternating between kissing and nipping his earlobes and nuzzling your face into his hair and neck, you hear his breathing slow down and you notice his eyelids have stopped fluttering.

“I love you, Halsin.” You lean forward just a little more to whisper the words to him.

A small murmur escapes his lips, cutting through his trance to make sure you know he feels the same. “I love you, my heart.”

He may not be willing to take an evening off yet, but you can sleep soundly next to him knowing how relaxed he is in your arms. Knowing that at least for tonight, he’ll rest.

And how lucky for you to fall asleep with your loving bear as a blanket.

#I didn't edit this much #just typed out an idea and then made a dentist appointment for the tooth rotting sweetness #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #halsin x reader #halsin silverbough #halsin fluff #bg3 halsin #halsin fanfic #I don't usually do reader fics so hopefully the tense in this sounds right

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misfit-megumi · 1 year ago

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OPEN ARMS, OPEN EYES ┊ GOJO SATORU

tags: GN reader, no curse au, meet-cute, gojo has a visual impairment (modern take on his six eyes), the divine dogs are service animals (seeing-eye dogs), original child character, reader is babysitting, fluff + flirting, (takes place in my foster dad au)

wc: 3k

Overhead, the bell rings a soft welcome. You quickly shuffle Kota out of the drizzle and into the warm embrace of the cafe. A full staccato can be heard over the soothing music as the wind begins to whip the rainfall against the windows. You sigh, having escaped the worst of it.

Kota squirms, his pink face scrunched into a glare as you bend to undo the buttons tucked beneath his chin and let down his raincoat hood. Free from the nylon confines he shakes out his hair and swipes at the strands stuck to his damp forehead with a whine.

“I know little man,” you murmur placatingly, reaching for the napkins on the nearby condiment bar. You pat his skin dry from his cheeks to his neck, and then under his cuffs around his wrists. His sniffling has allayed, to your relief. “Is that better?”

When he doesn’t answer you look up and find him entranced by something across the threshold. You follow his line of sight and feel the breath stolen from your lungs.

The stranger is imposing and beautiful in a way that is hard to look at; yet it’s the intense air of confidence and ease about him that makes it impossible for you to look away. Standing tall at the counter he’s all slender angles and fluid movements in his fitted white dress-shirt, rocking on his heels as he waits.

The shelves fixed to the wall behind the counters are littered with decorative trinkets doused in warm-gold light that crowns his white hair like a halo. Everyone’s focus has gravitated toward him, so much so that they don’t appear to notice the large black dog at his feet.

Kota, however, paid the man no attention. Instead his chubby fingers curled around your shirtsleeve to tug insistently at your arm, “Puppy!”

There’s a blue padded harness strapped to the dog’s torso, ‘assistance’ printed in bold reflective letters across the chest and along the adjustable handle. Their body language shows that they’re comfortable but alert, ears standing tall and twitching in Kota’s direction. Kota, who has managed to free himself from your grip.

And is tottering towards the service dog.

You rise to stand and amble after him, frantically whispering his name. “Kota—no. You can’t pet the dog,” your arm scoops around his belly to keep him from tripping as you grab the back of his coat and gather him to your front. The boy stomps his foot and whines, forcing his body pliant in protest and becoming deadweight.

Nervous about causing a disturbance you survey the surroundings. Nobody stirs. A woman and her two young children are seated nearby, and she offers you a sympathetic smile. You grimace, steadying Kota on his feet.

“But I wan’a pet the puppy,” Kota warbles, making grabbing motions toward the dog.

“You can’t sweetheart. Look,” you run a soothing hand down his back. Bringing him close you point at the blue harness. “See what they’re wearing? Can you read that word?”

Kota’s brow knits in concentration. “S’big word,” he says. You smile at his seriousness and suppress the urge to squeeze him.

“That word says ‘assistance’,” and he repeats it with imprecise intonation, thrice before he’s satisfied. “That’s right,” you praise him, sneaking a kiss to his temple. A frisson of happiness has him burying into the crook of your neck. “Do you know what it means when an animal is wearing a coat like that?”

Kota shakes his head.

“It means,” you cast a quick glance to the owner and almost swallow your tongue. His face is angled in your direction, as if listening in on your conversation, though his eyes are well hidden behind a dark pair of glasses. “It means that dog is working. They have a very important job to do, so we can’t interrupt them. It would be bad if they got distracted, right?”

Kota thinks long and hard about this. A litany of emotions wash over his expression. It ranges from confusion, to petulance and sadness, then finally, acceptance. “Yeah. Okay,” he nods, staring longingly at the fluffy tail sweeping back and forth across the tiles.

“Good. Now you’ve learned something new today. You can tell your parents all about it once I get you home,” you stand straight and brush down the front of your jeans. “How about we get some cream puffs to celebrate once it’s dry out, hm?”

“Yeah!”

The disruption thankfully hadn’t bothered the dog. You watch as the man drops his hand to his hip and they immediately nuzzle into the touch. “Good girl,” you hear him croon as his fingers crook behind her ear. Then he cocks his head and a pair of lustrous eyes are visible over his opaque, round-rimmed glasses.

Hair prickles on the nape of your neck. His stare settles just beyond your shoulder. The pigment in each iris is oddly dispersed and startlingly light, a clear blue with infinite depth, as if they were plucked right from a celestial body. “Thanks for keeping him on a leash,” he tells you with teasing cadence, mouth curled into a smile. Kota gives an affronted grumble and you laugh, combing your fingers through baby-soft hair.

The man inclines toward Kota, “Her name is Maya, by the way. You can’t pet her but you can say hello”.

Enthralled at this development Kota bends his knees in an bouncy little dance. “Maya-chan. Hi. My name is Kota,” he gurgles, hands covering his cheeks. Maya simply snuffled, a long tongue licking at her snout, and shifted on her front paws.

The attractive stranger nudges his dark glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. He wets his lips. “And what’s your name?”

It takes an embarrassing amount of time for you to realise he is asking you. Rattled by the prolonged silence you set your sights firmly on Kota and clear your throat to introduce yourself, “It’s nice to meet you”.

“Yeah? I don't get to hear that too often,” he replies, mouth thin as if fighting a broader smile. It’s a lovely shade of balmy pink. “I’m—”

“Gojo-san?”

The barista glances up from reading the name on the ticket, visibly flustered that he interrupted. “I’m sorry. Your drinks are ready,” he makes an aborted motion to hand the tray over and then seizes. “Ah—would you like me to take this to your table, Gojo-san?”

“That’d be great,” nothing about Gojo’s visage, nor his posture, changes. You feel pinned under his broad scrutiny. Anticipation swoops through your stomach as he angles his gaze in Maya’s direction, where Kota remains besotted. “Y’know, my other dog is here too. She’s actually retired now, so you can come and pet her if you want, Kota-kun”.

You balk. This guy.

“Yeah!” Kota effuses, crashing into your legs. He pats at your thighs. “Please. Can I, can I?”

You cast a lingering glance at the poor weather, a sheet of rain obscuring the view to the street, and ponder what Kota’s parents would want. As he’s an only child they’ve expressed their desire to get a pet in the near future. It could be a good lesson for him, and you have nothing to do until the shower calms.

“That's—kind of you. If it’s no trouble…?”

“Wouldn’t offer if it was,” Gojo replies. You are at least reassured by the fact that he doesn’t sound all that put-out. More than anything he looks pleased, like the cat that got the cream. He gestures toward the poor barista, waiting to the side with fingers flexing around the tray handles.

You nudge the little boy, “What do you say?”

Kota takes a deep breath, the air pushing out his cheeks. He bows, hair falling over his eyes, and gives an emphatic: “Thank you!”

Gojo’s runs a hand through his hair. It looks silky. A smooth glide, no tangles caught on his knuckles. Then he rolls his shoulders, expression schooled into something comically serious. “In that case I’m going to need you to do something, Kota-kun,” he says.

The tone has Kota’s spine ramrod straight. “This guy here is going to my table. Think you can walk behind him and lead the way for Maya?”

Kota’s eyes are wide and sparkling. He vibrates at the promise of responsibility. You observe the exchange with an odd fondness. Gojo is a stranger. Yet he has somehow has managed to win over the most stubborn kid you know.

“Maya,” he kisses his teeth. Maya rises to attention, locking onto her owner while he readjusts his grip on the harness handle. She tracks the movement of his free hand through the air as it comes to lightly tap Kota’s shoulder. “Follow,” he states.

Spurred into action as though commanded himself, the barista leaves to find Gojo’s table. Kota looks to you seeking permission. You nod and he wanders closely after the man on his little legs, glancing back every few seconds, brighter each time he notices Maya trotting onward at his heel.

Gojo’s gait is languid and purposefully slow. There's buoyancy to him as he navigates the space, trusting Maya completely to get to their destination. You walk a suitable distance from his side, inwardly dithering and unsure whether or not to push aside the few chairs obstructing the path. Maya doesn’t appear concerned. You’d hate to break her focus.

She takes Gojo deeper into the cafe with confidence. Tucked away in an alcove at the back of the room is a booth. In the booth is another dark haired boy, much older than Kota, around twelve or thirteen if you had to guess, and curled under the table is another large dog.

The boy is not impressed in the slightest. He frowns at the sight of you and Kota, disgruntled. Thoughts visibly pass over his face and whatever conclusion he comes to he glares up at Gojo for it.

As the barista sets down the tray of drinks the cups rattle against their respective saucers. He bows and slips away. Kota is beginning to squirm again. You can tell his patience is waning.

“I’m being glared at, aren’t I?” comes Gojo’s amused murmur. Though the boy’s ire isn’t directed at you it feels awkward to be in the line of fire.

“You are,” you reply, pinching the back of Kota’s hood to prevent him from diving under the table. “Are you sure this is fine? If your son isn’t—”

Gojo waves his hand as he strides forward, carefully resting it on the backrest of the cushions and he uses it to pivot himself into the booth. “Not my son. More like a nephew, or something. Right, Megumi?” the boy—presumably Megumi—flares his turned up nose and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Or something,” he says.

“Maya,” Gojo continues in a clear voice. “Down,” Maya is deliberate in where she rests, remaining within his reach. “Stay,” her paws cross one over the other, and she rests her chin atop her wrists. When she’s settled, he coos another, “Good girl”.

Maya’s tail swishes happily. Megumi grunts. “Don’t be like that, Megumi. The kid only wanted to meet Ren,” Gojo drawls. At the mention of her name Ren crawls out from under the table seeking attention. “Why don’t you show Kota-kun how to pet her?”

“Why me?”

“You’re older. Set an example,” Gojo rests his cheek in his palm, taking his glasses off to hook them on the end of his slender finger. Those startling eyes drag aimlessly over your form as he sighs, “Tsumiki would be so disappointed if she knew”.

At that Megumi’s arms drop in deference. He scoots out of his seat and coaxes Ren to sit. She’s a lovely dog, and big, with a luscious thick white coat and soulful eyes. He sticks his hand out, expression a complex mix of boredom and determination. Like he didn’t want to do it, but if he really had to, he wanted to do it well. “Kota-kun, right? Give me your hand,” he says.

Kota bounces on his toes and obediently drops his hand into the older boy’s. “You have to let animals smell you first. Let them decide if they want to be touched,” Megumi guides it toward Ren, proffered and upturned for her to scent. She nuzzles into Kota’s small palm and licks it for good measure, making him squeal.

Gojo melts into the booth cushion, entirely mellowed out. You stare at his profile, appreciating the soft line of his cheekbone right to the shell of his ear, just peeking out under fluffy white hair; lightly cow licked at the ends from the rain, curling right around the stud in his earlobe.

Feeling the weight of your gaze his eyes slide over and you quickly turn away. In the seconds you spent distracted Megumi has shown Kota where Ren likes to be scratched the most. Kota beams as he strokes down her flank, making her tongue loll out and her hind leg reflexively twitch.

You clear your throat. “She’s very pretty isn't she?” you muse, bending to Kota’s height and smiling gently at Megumi. Ren’s warm puffs of breath fan over your fingers as you let her smell them. “Is she the same breed as Maya-chan?”

“Yeah. They’re cousins,” Megumi answers stiffly. There’s a tinge of pink in Megumi’s cheeks now as he buries his hand in Ren’s fur, vying for reason not to look directly at you. “We’re letting them spend time together before we send Ren away”.

“Eh?” Kota’s bottom lip wobbles. His head whips around to Gojo, “Away?”

“Not like that,” you quietly reassured.

Gojo crossed his ankles under the table and reclined with his royal milk tea, wisps of steam curling over the rim. “Ren is too old to do her job now,” he smiles behind the cup, “She’s going to live with a good friend of mine and his two sons. Don’t worry”.

This comforts Kota a bit. “What, um,” he pats Ren’s face, and your heart aches, because he’s being so uncharacteristically gentle. “Maya-chan really has a job?”

“She really does”.

“But babies can’t work,” Kota beseeches. “Mama told me so”.

Megumi huffs, though you think it’s more of a laugh. “Maya isn’t a baby and she isn’t a puppy anymore either,” he says. The proud gleam in his gaze doesn’t escape you as he points at the younger dog. “She’s the best of her litter. I helped pick her”.

“Megumi has a good eye for that kinda thing,” Gojo sets down his cup and gestures to his uncovered eyes, framed by pale and unfairly long eyelashes. You are secretly grateful for the excuse to look at them again. “My eyes? Not so much. That’s what I have Maya for—and Ren before her. She helps me get around”.

Kota’s jaw slacks and he makes a long, drawn out sound of understanding. Ren bounces from paw to paw and you marvel at just how good she is with him. Calm, and attentive. Reacting whenever he reacts. Remnants of her training that she’d likely never lose.

“Go—go…”

“Gojo-san,” you prompt gently as Kota’s brow knits in that very familiar ‘I-don’t-want-to-cry’ manner.

“Gojo-san,” he tries again. “M’sorry your eyes don’t work good”.

Mortification washes over you. “Kota, sweetheart. You can’t just say that—”

Gojo barks a laugh loud enough to draw the attention of onlookers. While he remains unaffected, growing evermore amused, you shy away from their curious stares with a grimace. “Don’t worry. He meant no harm,” he says. “And look, it’s not that I can’t see anything. Want to know something cool?”

Megumi sighs indolently and you suspect he’s heard this spiel before. Kota unfurls from his brief flinch and nods. Gojo tips his chin and bends forward. Kota stares right into his lucent eyes, mesmerised.

“I can see shapes. To me you’re just a weird smudge,” Kota giggles from behind his hands as Gojo pretends to wet his thumb and makes a rubbing motion, like he were wiping Kota from his vision. “But I have too much pressure inside of my eyes. So I don’t just see shapes,” Gojo leans closer and lowers his voice into a conspiratorial whisper, “I see colours around things, like when you squeeze your eyes shut real tight”.

“Woah,” Kota breathes. His fingers clench and unclench where they’re clutched around his coat. “What colour am I?”

The older man decides to entertain the question and pauses to consider Kota with a ruminative hum. You find yourself waiting with bated breath, a shamefully scant portion of your brain focused on the vibration from your jacket pocket. Numbness is spreading up your feet to your calves, knelt on them for too long, but you don’t want to disturb the atmosphere.

“Red,” Gojo answers decisively.

Kota covers his mouth. He swivels on his heels to find you. “That’s my favourite colour!”

“It is,” you echo as you rub his shoulder, your tone gentle and indulgent. Your phone buzzes again and you slip it out from your pocket to check the screen. “Ah,” a brief glance toward the cafe window informs you that the rain has mostly stopped. Gold slats of sunlight are flooding the wet pavement. “It’s your parents, little man. They’ll be expecting us home soon so say your goodbyes”.

“No”.

“Kota”.

A stubborn beat passes. Sulking, Kota is deliberate and slow while he gives Ren a final stroke. “Bye bye, Ren, Maya-chan. Bye bye Megumi-nii. Bye bye Gojo-san”.

“Sure,” Megumi chokes somewhat at the honorific. “See you, Kota-kun”.

Gojo listens to the interaction with a smile. Close lipped and genuine. Though small the weight of it causes his eyes to crinkle slightly at the corners. “It doesn’t have to be goodbye forever,” he suggests.

You hesitate, “Meaning…?”

“If we exchanged numbers then Kota-kun could keep in touch with Maya and Ren. I’ll send cute pictures”.

Megumi scoffs and it makes the blood prickle under your skin. Your face feels hot. “Right. For Kota,” you reply dryly, mouth trembling as you valiantly try to keep the smile out of your voice. He must sense it anyway, because his own widens and he holds his phone out to you.

Kota claps excitedly while you input your name and number. “And how do I know you’re not a bad guy?” you ask, saving the details before closing out the app and handing the phone back.

“I pinky promise?”

Shaking your head amusedly you fix Kota’s coat collar, refastening the buttons before petting Ren farewell. “I suppose I’ll take your word for it,” you tell him. “Thanks again, for letting Kota meet the dogs”.

“My pleasure,” Gojo returns.

“I’ll—we’ll be seeing you, then,” you wave at Megumi, directing Kota toward the front of the cafe. Gojo drapes his lithe body over the table surface and rests his chin to his hand, as if watching you go.

“I’ll text you,” he chimes after you. People lift their heads as you scurry through to the entrance.

What have you gotten yourself into?

#megumi reads #megumi and gojo #megumi and jjk #I LOVE THIS SM OMG!!!#the way you wrote gojo is so spot on!!!#from the way he carried himself down to his unabashed way of flirting with reader!!!#i was giggling and kicking my feetsies while reading this!!!#i also LOVE the modern take on his six eyes #and maaaan the way he was commanding maya has my knees WOBBLING #i know this is a wholesome fic but omg gojo's 'good girl' felt like it was for reader and I'M SCREAMINGKSKNDKSND #my brain short circuited right there hnnggg #reader handled this meet cute very well bc if that were me??? oh boy i would have FAINTED #this is my most fave gojo fic up to date ^^#plus!!! megumi and kota are so so so cute!!! 😩🥺#they are made for my back pocket!!!#soft fluffy goodness #sweet tooth rotting fluff #fluff fluff fluff #fluff that will make heart flutter

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wangxianficrecs · 3 months ago

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into bloom by andreanna

into bloom

by andreanna

T, 2k, Wangxian

Summary: Wei Wuxian groans. “Lan Zhan, urg, it’s so embarrassing!” He brings his arm down enough to look Lan Wangji in the eye. “And I’m sure you already know.” “Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says again. Lan Ping interprets this one as tell the healer. Kay's comments: Short and sweet outsider POV on Wangxian finding out that Wei Wuxian is magically pregnant post-canon. Really loved the healer's POV and how he views both Wei Wuxian and Wangxian's relationship. Just really cute. The second chapter is beautiful fanart and the story is part of a series, but can be read as a standalone. Excerpt: Lan Ping doesn’t know the details, but the gist was that Wei Wuxian had taken a tumble down a hillside and landed poorly. He’d sprained his ankle, taken multiple contusions and lacerations, but the shoulder was most pressing. Someone had tried to reset it without success. It needed to be popped out and then popped back in again. The trauma of the fall alone must have been miserably painful. Then, add a failed reset. Lan Ping always tries to prepare his patients for having a joint reset. They typically yell and then cry. Lan Ping explained to Wei Wuxian that it will take two steps, twice the misfortune, in order to settle the joint correctly. Wei Wuxian merely nodded his assent. Each step must have been excruciating, but Wei Wuxian hadn’t given any sign of pain beyond gritting his teeth and wincing. He’d laughed when the arm had finally settled properly in the socket, reflexively testing it out. “Much better!” he’d said, flashing a smile. When Lan Ping tried to offer him pain relievers, he’d laughed at that too.

pov outsider, post-canon, established relationship, pov outsider on lan wangji/wei wuxian, fluff, short & sweet, mpreg, pregnant wei wuxian, fanart, medical, no angst, tooth-rotting fluff

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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strwbiesskiss · 8 months ago

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(I'm about to go to bed and I'm thinking about hawks so here's like a short drabble/my head cannons about sleeping with him!!^_^ I'll get more into detail tomorrow probably )

☆As a pro he comes home late..very very late sometimes not coming home until next day when the sun shines barely in the sky so it's rare to sleep with him but oh when you do when you have the chance he's pulling you under the shared expensive sheets you own tons of fluffy blankets and pillows around you he wants to protect you keep you as cozy as possible his hands slipping under your shirt rubbing circles into your back drawing soft yawns and mewls out of you wrapping his wings around you tightly the softness and weight drawing you into sleep as the moon cast a pretty glow on you both

☆he's most definitely tired after work whether it be patrolling or anything he'll be exhausted and his best way to unwind? Sleeping and napping with you he loves having you rest on his chest head laying on his torso he likes to watch you sleep to see your face soften to see your soft breaths as your chest rises and falls perfectly in sync with his sometimes he likes to tickle you with a feather or two just to see you shift in your sleep your face scrunched up in a perfectly cute way making him chuckle fondly his heart aching for you pining for you

☆he'll whisper sweet nothings to you in that soft melodic voice of his deep and low making you drowsy only half listening as he rambles about his day and what he did and how work was and he knows oh he knows when your curl into him and sigh sleepily he knows his voice makes you sleepy and he'll smile pressing a kiss to your forehead feeling so so in love with you

☆(Sorry I couldn't write more I'm currently speed-running writing this considering I have school tomorrow high school sucks lol but atleast I have hawks)

(ALSO I DIDN'T PROOF - READ THIS SORRY!!)

#fluff #bnha hawks #drabble #hawks x reader #keigo takami #keigo x reader #mha #mha hawks #headcanon #tooth rotting fluff #so so sweet #i love him #my husband

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fafayayarhen · 2 months ago

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spaus spaus spaus spaus

this just in the divorcees are pathetically unable to keep their hands off of each other

no first comic is not a vampire au i subscribe to the hc tonio has fangs so he can bite roddi bark bark bark

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misfit-megumi · 11 months ago

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@dira333 sweet pea, i think you'll like this 🫶🏼

DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND .ᐟ

oh future husband, better love me right.

premise. the nhk is hosting another special broadcast featuring the popular fiancées of the jnt’s lineup! and this time, it’s truth or drink! ❤︎

content. haikyu!! jnt / f!reader. (koutarou bokuto, morisuke yaku, kiyoomi sakusa & tobio kageyama). fluff. downbad fiancés. suggestive jokes & allusions to sex. petnames. alcohol. overseas!kageyama & yaku (LDR). reader lives in japan (does not equal being japanese). a little angst.

notes. this part is… a little long! sit down for it ❤︎

soundtrack. dear future husband — meghan trainor.

part one can be read here.

dear future husband m.list // hq. masterlist.

KOUTAROU BOKUTO.

“Been awhile since I last drank,” Bokuto cracks his knuckles upon seeing the many selections of beer he gets to choose, fingers twitching eagerly as they hover over the bottles. “Wonder what I should get…”

You sigh beside him jokingly, nudging his shoulder with your elbow, “We don’t have all day, Kou.”

“I’m just looking!” He chuckles, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

He randomly picks up a bottle of Sapporo, rotating it in his hands before nodding to himself, “This seems good!”

You place your hand on the small of his back, guiding him towards the studio for a final run through before the broadcast, “Alright, Kou. Now let’s get this started!”

The NHK film crew do a final mic and sound check when you arrive as a staff member seats you both at the table in the centre of the studio, a pile of cards with questions written on them, two shot glasses and the Sapporo bottle your fiancé picked out lined on it’s top.

After fiddling with the microphones hidden inside your clothes, the crew give you two a thumbs up and rush back to their cameras to start the recording.

Bokuto’s entire body is turned towards the cameras, sitting on the edge of his seat as he eagerly greets the viewers, “Hey! I’m Koutarou Bokuto,” he catches your eyes with a bright smile, grabbing your hand from across the table, “And this is my fiancée!”

“And we’ve been together for three years now,” You finish for him, hands folded neatly on the table, the cameras pan to show off the engagment rings that sits prettily on both you and Bokuto’s fingers.

“Four months engaged.”

“And we’re playing truth or drink!” You and Bokuto announce happily together, smiling at each other before turning your bodies back to face the cameras. The film crew adjust their angles, moving their cameras off their stands to get better opening shots of you and your fiancé.

“You guys ready to play?” The head camera crew member asks, giving you the okay to start the game.

The studio lights illuminate the white backdropped room, enveloping your eyes in waves whenever you stare at the camera lenses for a little too long.

You and Bokuto nod as he shifts his gaze towards you, “Want me to go first, Baby?” He asks, already grabbing his shot glass and the bottle of Sapporo. You giggle, “So eager to get drunk, Kou?”

“I told you, it’s been awhile!” He beams, pouring out the alcohol carefully into his shot and grabbing the top card from the pile on the table.

“What do you like most about me?” he reads aloud, looking up at you curiously, “I’m pretty sure you’ve told me this exact answer before.”

“Have I?” you tilt your head in thought, thinking the question over, “I mean, probably. It has been three years, after all.”

Bokuto places the card face down on his side of the table, combing through his hair, “I think when we first started dating, you told me it was my hair.”

“It is nice,” you agree, causing Bokuto to start laughing and in turn making you giggle as well. The two of you are already giddy and snickering despite no alcohol being present in your systems yet, “But I think now that we’re engaged, I can give a more detailed answer.”

“Oh?”

He leans over the table excitedly, a wide grin plastered across his face, “Tell me, Baby! What do you like most about me?” His hand is still placed atop of yours, the perfectly cut gems in both of your rings twinkling in sync underneath the studio lights, perfectly complimenting you fiancé’s eyes.

You hum in faux thought for a moment before smirking, “Hmm, your muscles.”

Bokuto’s smile drops slightly to a pout, still keeping his bright composure while masking his lowered grin, “Awe, Baby I thought you were going to say something like, real deep and emotional!” He jests, “Like how you love that I make you smile, y’know?”

You throw your head back in laughter, nudging his shoulder with your free hand, “I’m kidding, Kou!” Your smile is genuine when you see how disappointed he was at first at your reply, looking straight into his eyes as a way reassure him.

“Yes, Kou. What I like most is that you make me the happiest every day I’m with you.”

His smile brightens significantly, a chuckle of his own escaping his lips as he leans back into his chair, “Damn, played by my own girl.”

He slides the pile of cards over to you with a mischievous smirk, “Not that I’m complaining.”

You take the top card off the pile and read it over, fingers twirling the empty shot glass in your hands. Your lips purse as you try to contain the giggles making their way up your throat while reading the question on the card, hands quivering in silent laughter.

“Have you ever wanted to fuck one of our friends while with me?” Bokuto’s eyes seem to pop out of his head at the vast difference and shift in questions, turning to the NHK staff while laughing, “Are you sure this is okay to broadcast?”

The film crew nod, to which Bokuto shrugs, “Alright, then,” before turning back to you. “Uhh, can I just like- take a shot right now?”

“You’d rather drink than not tell me?” You joke, pouring out the Sapporo for your fiancé, “Damn, Kou. Do I not satisfy you enough?”

“Of course you do!” He corrects himself hastily, “It’s just, uh..” he leans in closer to you whisper in your ear quietly, “I don’t want to say Atsumu on national T.V...”

Your hand flies to your mouth in shock, shoulders shaking as you try to contain your cackles, “Atsumu?” you repeat in a hushed tone, making sure you heard him correctly. “Him?”

“He’s got nice hair!”

You both start to laugh at how hair seems to be a common appealing trait you notice in people. Shaking your head in mock disappointment, you shove the stack of questions back over to your fiancé’s side for his turn.

“What is the most embarrassing thing you caught me doing when I thought I was alone?” Bokuto asks, reading from the card he picked off the top of the pile and glancing back up at you.

You hum in thought for a moment, pondering the question.

“Uhm, I think that time you were rehearsing your Valentines day speech to me before we went out to eat at that restaurant a few years ago,” you reveal cautiously, “but you were using a pillow with a photo of my face taped on it as a stand-in.”

Bokuto’s jaw drops at the revelation, nearly falling out of his chair from the shock of what you just divulged to him, “You were there? Watching me do that?”

You have to practically fight the cackle bubbling it’s way up your throat, a smile creeping onto your face when you answer, “Yes, Kou. But it was sweet, so I didn’t mention it to you.”

“You kept that a secret for two years?” He asks again, and you nod.

Your fiancé’s face remains stunned for a few more moments before breaking out into a smile of his own, hand running down his face while laughing to himself. “Damn, I must’ve looked so dumb.”

“I thought it was cute!” You attempt to salvage things, giggling as you pick up the next question card, this time it’s for Bokuto.

“What part of wedding planning is the most challenging part for you?”

“The money…” He pouts, taking the card from you to read it over again before turning to the cameras.

“Weddings are so damn expensive— Did you know wedding flowers can cost up to two million yen?” He exclaims in shock, “For flowers!”

You sigh, plucking the question card from his hand and setting aside on his pile with a smile, “This is why you should leave the financial decisions to me, Kou. Our floral arrangements will not be that expensive, I can assure you.”

“Of course, Baby,” he grins, “I trust you completely on that,” his hands move to pick up the next card, lifting the corner and taking a peek at the question before flipping it over and reading it.

“What is something you’ve wanted to try in the bedroom but haven’t told me about?”

“Impact play,” comes your answer a bit too hastily to be considered normal.

Bokuto has a silent stare off with you for a few seconds after before you both break out in hysterical laughter, your fiancé cackling at how fast and prepared you were when you answered while you exclaim that’s why you could never tell him.

“Baby, that was so fast!” Bokuto reels over the table, pounding his fist into the wood while howling with laughter, gripping his empty shot glass in hand.

“Were you— were you that prepared to answer?”

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you make an attempt to defend your response, “I know you’d absolutely wreck me if we tried, that’s why I never asked!”

“I mean…” He trails off, glancing at you and letting his eyes roam your ring finger as a smirk makes it’s way onto his face, leaning closer to you over the table. “We could always try it at home later—”

“Last question!” You interrupt him, pulling the cards over to your side and grabbing the last question from the stack, you see Bokuto’s smile drop when he sits back in his seat from how you changed topics until he sees you wink at him from the corner of his eye.

“What is something you wish to tell me before we get married?”

Bokuto’s eyes light up at his question, holding up his shot of Sapporo and beaming brightly. Despite not drinking much during your game, his cheeks are flushed like he’s been drunk on your love this entire time, eyes crinkling with glee when he smiles.

“I hope I can keep being this happy when i’m with you after marriage,” He declares, “I love you, Baby.”

“I love you too, Kou,” you smile with him, raising your own shot to clink your two glasses together and down them simultaneously, the cool smoothness of the beer running down your throats.

You can feel the mild bitterness on your tongue afterwards, it leaves it’s taste behind even several hours after your drinking game when you two return to your shared home.

But the sincerity in Bokuto’s eyes when they fell on you back in the studio, and the way he gazes at you like you’re the only thing in his world even with the several NHK staff and film members recording your every move washes that all away instantaneously, overpowering it with sheer sweetness.

It’s just not one you can taste as easily as the flavour of Sapporo.

You might not have gotten drunk that night, but Bokuto’s certain he’s been drunk on your love for the entirety of all three years you’ve been together and wouldn’t mind if things stayed like this forever.

MORISUKE YAKU.

“You’re going down, sweetheart,” Yaku warns you with a teasing wink, lifting the bottle of Vodka in his hands to inspect the label, “Playing in the Russian League gives me an alcohol tolerance advantage that you don’t have.”

“I didn’t know just playing in Russia meant you were an experienced drinker,” you hum, playing along with his jokes for the fun of it. “I don’t think athletes are supposed to consume a lot of vodka anyways.”

“Well, you might as well back out now,” Yaku advises, shrugging with a sly grin, one of the camera crew’s members rushes up to fix the loose microphone on his suit before scurrying back to their position.

“Don’t wanna get beaten by your own fiancé now, do you?”

You merely roll your eyes at his antics, a reluctant smile making it’s way onto your face as you realign the messy stack of cards on your table, sounds of the director doing a final run through of lights and cameras are heard around you.

“Yeah yeah, save it for after you get wasted, Mori.”

The cameras start up as the director nods in your direction, indicating for you two to introduce yourselves to the viewers tuning in, Yaku holds your hand as he recites his lines.

“Hi, I’m Morisuke Yaku,” your fiancé beams, giving your hand a comforting squeeze, “And this right here, is my wonderful fiancée, whom I adore very much.”

Even several years later, Yaku’s swoon worthy words have an effect on you after all this time, making you feel like you’re still in that young and eager love stage. Attempting to hide your giddy face from him, you turn to face the camera as well with a wide grin.

“We’ve been together for four and a half years,” You gush, the sparkling engagement band on your finger being shown outwardly when the cameras zoom in for a closer look. “Engaged for eight months, now.”

“And today, we’ll be playing truth or drink,” Yaku reveals to the excited viewers, the cameras change positions to new angles while the sound crew makes sure your microphones are picking up your words.

After signaling to the director that they are indeed working, he asks you two, “Are you ready to play?”

You and Yaku both agree as he opens the bottle of Vodka, pouring it into your shot glass first before he pours out his own, “Hm, what a gentleman you are, Mori.” You joke, noticing he gave you your alcohol first before serving himself any.

“Always, for you.” He sighs dreamily, setting the bottle down beside him and pushing the cards over to you with his familiar cheshire grin. “And because I’m such a gentleman, you should go first, love.”

You stifle a laugh into the palm of your hand at the sudden switch in personality but take the top card off anyway, flipping it over and reading the question for Yaku written on it, “What is one thing you wish I did more of in our relationship?”

He groans, slumping down in his seat with his Vodka in hand, “Fly over to come visit me overseas,” he jokingly groans, faux-booing you with a thumbs down and all as he turns to the film crew.

“Did you know she doesn’t get on the first plane to Russia whenever I ask, can you believe her?”

You merely snicker at his jeers and turn your card over, placing it down on the table beside your shot. “Well I’m sorry, but I’m unable to predict whenever you’ll miss me spontaneously.”

“It’s not spontaneous,” Yaku argues, “I tell you like, two minutes in advance.”

You raise an eyebrow at his claims, “Wanna bet, Mori? I have screenshots.”

“Maybe I’ll just drink to this instead.”

You both giggle as he shakes his head in defeat, taking the next card off the pile and reading out loud the first question for you.

“Have you ever—” Yaku begins to lose his composure as he reads, holding back his giggles before sputtering out, “faked an orgasm with me?”

You burst out into laughter as Yaku discards the card to his side, head thrown back in hysterics while using the table to stabilize himself.

“Well?” He asks, wiping the tears that have begun to form around his eyes, “Have you?”

You begin to reach for your Vodka shot, causing your fiancé to break out into another, more excessive fit of cackles, “Are you serious, honey?”

“Okay well, maybe!” You confess wholeheartedly, raising the Vodka to your lips, “Back when we were first dating!”

Yaku scoffs disapprovingly, but you can tell he’s not seriously mad when you down the vodka and he’s looking at you worriedly, asking if it was too strong for you afterwards.

You dismiss his concerns, saying it’s fine and that you can handle it before he relaxes and pushes the cards back over to you.

“Have you ever had a dream about me cheating on you?” You ask him, Yaku’s face immediately sours at his question, you look to him expectantly and wait for his reply.

“… Ugh, yes,” he begrudgingly admits after a few moments of silence, eyebrows furrowing as he recalls it unpleasantly, “I had a dream once where you cheated on me with Lev.”

“Lev?” You cackle, “The— the 6’5 russian guy from your highschool volleyball team??”

Yaku’s hand moves to his vodka-filled shot glass, “Yes,” he moans, “It was awful. Hope I never see Lev butt-naked in my dreams ever again.”

“You don’t have to drink to this one, Mori,” you giggle as Yaku downs his vodka quickly, not even flinching at the burn, maybe he was right about the tolerance advantage. “Since you answered it.”

“Ah, don’t care,” he groans, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his suit, “After having to reimagine that scene, I needed the alcohol.”

Yaku takes the next card off the pile of questions skeptically, flipping it over and reading it out loud.

“Do you have any insecurities when it comes to me playing overseas in Russia?”

The question causes you to stop and think as Yaku places the card face down next to him, pouring another shot and sliding it over to you. “You don’t have to say anything, sweetheart.”

His gentle tone reassures you but you shake your head, pushing the vodka away, “No it’s okay, I don’t mind saying it.” Yaku looks surprised but nods understandingly, taking the glass back and giving you the room to process your next words while he remains quiet.

“I think my only insecurity is not knowing if you’re safe while overseas,” you admit to your fiancé. Yaku doesn’t say anything in response, knowing you have more to say as he lets you say what you need while silently encouraging you to elaborate.

“I hate not having you beside me because I don’t know where you are, and I just miss you a lot you know?”

Yaku’s cheek rests against the palm of his hand, concern washing over his face again as he looks across the table to you, “Awe, honey. I didn’t know you felt that way,” he coos, “do you hate whenever I leave for volleyball season?”

You shrug dismissively, the weight of your words beginning to catch up to you as your voice becomes quieter, trailing off at the end. “I mean, I don’t hate it, but like- I wanna know you’re alright while in Russia…”

Yaku’s about to speak when you shake your head dismissively, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” before you’re reaching for the deck of cards, already pulling the top question up and flipping it over to read.

Your eyes drag over the words as a pit begins to form inside your stomach. The next question for Yaku causes you to cringe, still reeling from the uneasiness of the last one as you awkwardly ask him, “Have you… ever regretted or had doubts about our engagement?”

Yaku’s face of concern turns into one of astonishment, he looks almost appalled at how unsure you look and sound while asking him.

“Absolutely not,” he states firmly, holding your hand that holds engagement band on it, you can feel the distress radiating off him as he reassures you in a hushed tone.

“I’ve never once regretted proposing to you, and I fully intend on marrying you.”

Yaku’s words dislodge the lump in your throat as you begin to chuckle to yourself, eyes looking down at his hand where the engagement ring he wears that matched your own. “I’m sorry if you thought I was doubting you, Mori. It’s just—”

“You don’t need to justify your feelings,” Yaku reiterates sternly, “I know, okay? You don’t need to explain this on live T.V.”

Knowing he’s only trying to make sure nothing of what you say can be interpreted wrongly later by media, you nod as he sighs in relief with an uneasy smile.

“I think this next question is our last one,” he announces, his smile morphing back into that familiar cheshire grin, the one that always brightens your day. You think he’s doing it in an attempt to lighten the mood, or maybe he just naturally makes you happy.

Yaku picks up the final question card and flips it over, reading it over with a calm smile, “What have you enjoyed most about being engaged to me?” His voice is gentle as he looks up to you, placing the card down on his pile.

“Well, love?” He encourages you, knowing he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable he gives you the choice, “Do you want to answer, or take a drink?”

You’d be a fool to drink at this question, there isn’t anything to drink for here but there’s just so much about being engaged to Yaku that you love that you can’t quite find the words for it. And while the majority of your engagement has been spent with Yaku being away in Russia, it doesn’t mean you enjoy it any less than if he were with you in Japan.

“… I enjoy knowing you will always be with me,” you begin to speak slowly, making sure your words are clear and concise while twirling your empty shot glass in hand absentmindedly.

Trying to fit all you want to say to your fiancé in a few words is tough, but you manage to shorten it enouhh to say all you want to tell him. “Because even while you’re playing overseas, I know you will always come back home to me.”

Yaku’s face unexpectedly heats up at your words, the apples of his cheeks turning bright red as his lips form into a shy and nervous grin, one isn’t anything like the mischievous and playful personality you’re accustomed to seeing while with him.

“I… I love you, sweetheart.” He manages to speak after some time, loosening the collar of his dress shirt nervously, but the smile on his face never falters. “I always have and always will.”

He extends his hand out to you, motioning for you to give him your shot glass. You hand it to him and he pours out some Vodka, sliding it back over to you once full before filling his own.

“Yes, honey,” he whispers unconsciously while pouring his alcohol, and it’s the happiest you’ve seen him all day. From his flushed complexion, dopey smile and euphoric demeanour, he appears to be glowing. Or maybe it’s the blaring lights behind him that are playing tricks on you.

Your fiancé has never looked so sure of himself until this moment, Yaku’s eyes never straying from yours as he raises his shot glass, breaking into his biggest smile yet.

“I will always come back home to you. No matter how long we are apart for,” and to that, you both cheer, clinking your glasses as you toast to your engagement.

Downing the alcohol in unison, the bitter sting of the Vodka attacks your throats relentlessly, but neither you or Yaku care about that in this moment or the next.

The world’s most intense Vodka brewed directly in the heart of Moscow, Russia could never be so strong as to have an effect on either of you when you’re in the presence of each other. You’re certain that Yaku would drown himself in the harshest of Vodka’s if it meant it was all for you.

A little Vodka is nothing compared to what he’d go through for you.

The way Yaku’s entire demeanour changes when with you, the largest of smiles etched onto his face for a side he only shows while you’re with him here, in Japan.

Remaining wholely committed to you even while seperated by land and sea is all a true testament to your relationship, and it puts your heart at ease.

Yaku may not always be at home; but Yaku knows that home is with you, and he knows he’ll always be with you in due time.

KIYOOMI SAKUSA.

“Oh, he’s a lightweight,” you tell the film crew who are adjusting their camera stands nearby as Kiyoomi pulls out the chair at the table for you to sit at, giggling when you hear the faintest muffled groan come from underneath his face mask.

Sitting atop the table is a bottle of Scotch, the deck of question cards and two shot glasses on it’s sanitized surface as per request by your fiancé.

“This’ll be so easy for me.”

“As if,” Kiyoomi scoffs, taking his own seat across from you and scooching his chair forward, “I’ll beat you and then have to hear you drunkenly cry about it back home later for the next several hours.”

“Nope,” you declare mischievously, folding your arms over the table and laying your head in them while looking up at your fiancé, “Hey, did you know Atsumu told me you’re an emotional drunk?”

You can see Kiyoomi’s eyes twitch underneath his thick black locs, hand reaching to grip his hair in annoyance. “That fucking—”

The director interrupts him unexpectedly when he calls to the rest of the crew in the studio for everyone to take their places behind the cameras, Kiyoomi sighs deeply as his shoulders relax and he leans back in his chair waiting for the broadcast to begin.

“I’m Kiyoomi Sakusa,” he states to the viewers plainly, barely acknowledging the cameras pointed straight at his face when he motions to you, “And this is my fiancée of almost a year.”

You can hear the way his voice softens lightly when referring to you as his fiancée.

“We’ve been together for four years now,” You welcome the viewers much more warmly than your fiancé does, announcing eagerly, “Engaged for eleven months, and we’re playing truth or drink!”

Again, you’re a lot more excited than Kiyoomi is when the director asks, “You guys okay to start playing?” but he agrees to it nonetheless, the subtle nod of his head doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

Kiyoomi grabs the stack of cards full of questions and shuffles the deck around a bit, when asked by the director why he did so he answers, “So if anyone planted any weird questions at the top of the pile for her they’re pushed to the bottom.”

After reorganizing the cards, Kiyoomi hands the stack to you, letting you have first pick of the game. You try to argue, but he doesn’t listen.

“Ladies go first,” he says, expectantly waiting for you to start.

You take the first card of the newly shuffled deck and begin to read it for your fiancé, “Favourite memory of us, pre-engagement or post-engagement?”

Kiyoomi taps his empty glass against the mahogany of the table repeatedly for a brief moment, thinking it over before letting out a deep sigh-turned groan, reaching over and pouring out some Scotch for himself as you sit back in stunned shock at his actions.

“Wait, what—”

“Don’t question me,” he rasps, lowering his face mask and downing his shot with ease, there’s hints of floral notes in the Scotch he can taste.

He pulls his mask back up seconds later and looks up at you, you swear you can see a smirk forming under his mask from the way his eyes lift in amusement afterwards, causing your cheeks to heat up at what he could’ve been thinking about that he had to take a shot to get out of saying it.

Finishing off his Scotch, your fiancé takes both the top card off the deck and his empty shot glass before reading aloud his first question for you.

“What was your first impression of me when we met?” Kiyoomi reads monotonously, his stare hardens when he notices you jokingly reaching for your shot glass, tossing the card over to your side with a groan.

“Really?” He huffs, arms crossed over his chest and glaring halfheartedly at your tease. “Didn’t Motoya say you like… hated me at first or something?”

“I didn’t hate you,” you giggle, pouring the Scotch into your glass while avoiding your fiancé’s gaze, “I just.. am a little thirsty right now.”

“Haha,” Kiyoomi laughs dryly, watching as you down your shot quickly, the citrusy notes in the Scotch make it pleasant to drink. “You’re soo funny, dear. Must be really thirsty today.”

“I am,” you wink, placing your glass back down on the table before taking the next card off the pile.

“What is the most embarrassing nickname for me you have in mind?” Kiyoomi asks, and you snort.

“It’s only embarrassing because Atsumu came up with it…” you turn to the cameras to whisper to the viewers, facing your fiancé who’s giving you a skeptic look that soon turns into existential dread when you begin to snicker.

He groans, “I swear to god if it’s Omi-Omi—”

“It’s Omi-Omi.”

You can practically feel the annoyance radiating off of Kiyoomi while you bat your eyelashes innocently at him, playful shrug of your shoulders as you pull the cards back over to your side, taking the next card off the deck while your fiancé whispers something about killing Atsumu at the next practice from across the table.

“What colour or colours are your favorite on me?” You look up at the director almost immediately before Kiyoomi can even open his mouth, “Can I just say it— Because I know.”

The director nods, “He told me once it was black and gold,” Kiyoomi mumbles something incoherent under his breath, whatever he’s saying being muffled by his nask as he hides his face away from the cameras, the camera crew exchange a look amongst themselves.

“Aren’t those the colours of the MSBY Black Jackals?” One of the crew members mentions offhandedly and you smirk, looking over to your flustered fiancé with the most shit-eating grin you can muster, “Yes, yes they are.”

“Should’ve just let me answer instead,” he mutters while pulling out the next card from the deck to move the game along, coughing as his face slowly returns to it’s natural colour.

He chuckles when he reads it over, “How would you spend an entire week without me?” he turns to the cameras with his own smug face, placing the card down on the table. “She doesn’t.”

“I can,” you interject and he gives you a deadpan stare, “Yeah, can. Doesn’t mean you do, though.”

“Anyways,” you swerve back to your answer, taking the card from his side and reading it over yourself.

“I would have a very relaxing week without you, consisting mostly of singing and dancing in our empty kitchen without you to judge me.”

“I don’t judge you.”

“Yes you do.”

“Nope.”

You two could probably have this back and fourth for hours on end but you stop when you catch the director’s eye, one of his assistants motions to you hurriedly that it’s nearly time to end the broadcast.

With that in mind, you pick up the last question card, flipping it over and reading it for Kiyoomi.

“What’s one thing you’d like to tell me at the alter if you couldn’t say anything else.”

“That I love you,” Kiyoomi says almost immediately, tracing the rim of his shot glass with his ring finger delicately, you can hear the gentleness in his voice when he speaks. “And that I hope you’ll always be my lover, whatever that means for us in the future.”

“That’s more than one thing, Kiyo.”

“I don’t care.”

You scoff playfully, tossing the card aside and pouring out two shots of Scotch for you and your fiancé. Whilst handing him his glass your rings bump together momentarily, the clinking of the diamonds makes the two of you smile, though Kiyoomi’s is hidden underneath his mask.

“Cheers, my dear,” he mutters softly, lowering his mask again to drink and allowing you to finally see the beautiful smile he hides underneath, usually reserved only for you.

“Cheers, Kiyo,” and you two drink, the Scotch tastes lovely and refined on both of your tongues when it runs down your throats with ease.

It’s light and sophisticated, and the flavour profile fits Kiyoomi so well. You consider telling him that, but refrain because you think he won’t understand what you mean; not knowing he’s thinking the exact same about you.

Kiyoomi thinks you two may be a match made in heaven, if such a thing exists then it perfectly encapsulates the two of you.

As the cameras cut and several crew members rush around the studio, Kiyoomi doesn’t notice any of that in this moment— his gaze continues to be locked onto you wholly; lovingly enraptured by the beautiful image of you across from him that he hopes will be burned into the back of his head like the taste of this Scotch, but for many years to come and not just a mere few hours.

Kiyoomi can drink Scotch at any time he pleases, but being married to you is something he is excited for and craves everyday of his life as the days on the calender tick down to your wedding, it keeps him motivated to continue each day if he knows it’s just one day closer to a life with you, one where he knows you will be with him every day going forward.

The day you two will finally be united as one. Kiyoomi can’t wait for that morning to come, when night falls and after the ceremony is done he can finally refer to you as his wife and not just his fiancée.

TOBIO KAGEYAMA.

Tobio gulps upon seeing the Sake being poured into his shot glass by the NHK staff member, being handed the alcohol before they pour out another shot for you, to which you graciously accept with a smile and nod of your head.

“Uhh…” His piercing gaze reaches across to you across the table, nervously fiddling with the glass in hand as he twirls it inbetween his fingers, “I don’t, really hold alcohol well, love..”

“Really?” You stare at him blankly, squinting down at the alcohol in your own shot, “what do you drink in Italy then, Tobio?”

“Limoncello,” he sighs, “but it’s supposed to be sipped slowly, not downed like shots usually are.” He makes a face as the thought of attempting to drink Limoncello like shots ripples through his mind, it would most definitely not end well for him.

You chuckle and give him a reassuring smile, placing your hand over his gently. The diamond on his ring is cool to the touch when you run your thumb over it, with sharp and well defined cut corners. “You’ll be fine, Tobio.”

He nods unsurely but allows the NHK camera crew to do their final run through, making sure everything is in order before the cameras begin to roll and the director is motioning for you both to recite your lines.

Your fiancé’s voice is a little strained, a faint stutter can be heard as he speaks slowly, “I’m… Tobio Kageyama,” he manages to say before craning his head to his left, across the table.

“And I’m her fiancé,” his eyes shift towards you as you give the cameras a polite wave, “We’re playing… truth or drink.”

“We’ve been together for five years,” You excitedly tell the viewers, holding up your ring finger to show off the dazzling diamond atop it, “And engaged for two.”

The director asks from out of frame, “Why have you two been engaged for so long?” A question that most viewers are probably wanting to know, Tobio answers it for you.

“I wanted to marry her sooner,” he timidly admits, looking down at his lap to avoid the harsh glares of the camera lenses, “But with me playing in Ali Roma, it’s hard to plan things out, I guess.”

You nod, “Besides,” you chime in giddily, taking over for him, “It’s fun to be in this little engaged stage for a long time, makes everyday that bit more exciting.”

You ramble on about how fun it is to call Tobio during his off days; calling him at three in the morning in Japan while in Italy it’s 7PM to tell him about a cute floral arrangement you saw earlier that day while shopping that you’d love to have at your wedding.

Facetiming him in the dark of the night, wrapped in blankets and wearing his highschool volleyball jersey to ask him what kind of food from Italy he wants to incorporate into the wedding menu, and texting him photos of different style of wedding dresses you’re considering wearing on your big day while getting out of the shower.

You unintentionally forget about your jittery mess of a fiancé while you speak, beaming as bright as the glowering studio lights as Tobio looks at you amazed.

Tobio’s nervousness slowly fades when he sees the ring on your finger and just how happy you are to be engaged to him. It’s always been a worry of his that you hate the long wait to get married to him, that playing overseas would hurt your relationship because of long he is away from home at times.

But your gleeful joy in telling thousands of viewers in real time that you love just being engaged to him for two years; that you don’t mind it at all, brings some peace of mind to his fragile heart.

“Are you two ready to play?”

Knuckles slowly unclenching as he takes a deep breath, he nods his head to the director, indicating the start of the game. He starts first, picking up the first card from the pile.

“What is the most awkward date we’ve ever been on?” Tobio’s face drops immediately upon reading, turning the card face down on the table and turning to the director, “Can I start over? Or make her drink?”

“It’s her choice if she want to answer or drink.” The director answers.

Tobio turns to you hastily, eyes practically pleading with you not to say what you have on your mind, he’s already inside your mind and fears for what you could potentially reveal on national television, causing you to erupt in a fit of giggles as you reach for the Sake.

“Fine, fine. I won’t say, Tobio.” You’ve never seen your fiancé so relieved, almost seeing the metaphorical weight lifting off his shoulders with your own eyes when you take the shot.

The Sake is sweet, like sticky rice. It’s feels cool when it hits the back of your tongue and nice to drink, reminding you of the Italian sweets Tobio would send you from Italy. Noting that they’d pair nicely with Sake, you consider getting Tobio to send you more of them in the mail soon.

“You owe me for that one, Tobio,” you chuckle after finishing your shot, “Whatever the next question is you have to answer it.” He groans in protest but agrees after some convincing as you reach for the question pile and grab your first question for him.

“Have you kept a secret hobby or interest hidden from me?”

Shockingly, Tobio nods his head and unexpectedly calm about the question he was supposedly ‘forced’ to answer, “I got into gardening when I first came to Italy.”

“You what?” You utter, delightfully surprised at this revelation, “What plants do you take care of in Italy?”

“I have a few hanging Boston Fern and Ivy in some pots around my apartment…” Tobio tells you, adverting his gaze from your eyes the more your smile grows towards him. “I didn’t mean to keep them from you, I just… forgot to mention it everytime we call.”

“Tobio…” You laugh at how empty headed your fiancé can be at times, sometimes you think he’d forget his head if it weren’t secured to his body. “We call almost every day!”

“Yeah, but you usually call me late at night!” He defends himself, “I don’t normally leave my room that late at night, so you never see them!”

You shake your head in disbelief at this, faux disappointment at your fiancé for keeping this interest of his hidden for so long, “When I visit you in Rome, you have to show me these plants, deal?”

He nods in approval at that arrangement, a small smile creeping onto his face as he takes the next card off the deck, “Have you pretended to like a gift I gave you when you actually didn’t?”

You consider reaching for the Sake but reel your hand back at the last second, deciding to tell him straight up.

“Yeah, the lingerie you sent me a few months ago.”

“You didn’t like it?”

Tobio’s mouth hangs open, visibly swallowing his shame away as he sets the question card down on the table, a hand running through his hair in deep thought.

“Okay well, didn’t like isn’t the right word per se—”

“Was it the style?” Tobio begins interrogating you sternly, brows furrowed and that determined look in his eyes you’re so familiar with while watching his volleyball matches.

“Was it the colour, or was it too flimsy? I tried going to a new store that time, I knew I should’ve just stuck to the other one—”

“Tobio!”

He’s immediately brought out of his thoughts by your cackles, blinking as he’s focused on your laughing figure in front of him. His cheeks are tinted a dark shade of red, thinking he’s said something embarrassing when he whispers a low, “Yes, love?”

Through fits of giggles and laughter, you barely manage to sputter out, “It was just the wrong size, babe!”

Tobio’s eyes widen significantly at the reveal, looking down at his hands where his engagement ring sits comfortably in his ring finger, feeling his body shrink in on itself further into his seat while you’re howling across from him.

If you were seated beside each other he’s sure you’d be slapping his arm too for good measure.

“C-can we move onto the next question…” He mumbles just above the microphone strapped to his dress shirt’s minimum level to pick up sounds. If his old highschool teammates were here— if Hinata were here, god, he’d never hear the end of it. “Please?”

Finally settling down from your giggly high, you vaguely nod, still catching your breath when you reach for the next question card on the pile and flip it over as Tobio tries his best to calm down his reddened face.

“What is the most romantic thing your partner has ever done for you?”

After Tobio’s managed to relax himself, he thinks the question over, chin in hand as his gaze lands directly on the Sake bottle on the table beside him where he gets lost in thought while mulling over the question.

“I think…” he mutters to himself, “When you told me it was okay to go play in Ali Roma, instead of discouraging me to stay in Japan.”

His answer legitimately surprises you, “Is that, really your response, Tobio?”

He nods, hands reaching up to the nape of his neck. “Yeah… I don’t know if romantic is the right word, I guess.“

“But knowing you were there to support me; even if I could tell you were scared for me going overseas, it felt like the most romantic gesture someone could ever do to me.”

Tobio blinks, suddenly remembering his words are being broadcasted on national T.V and coughing awkwardly, “Uh, yeah, that’s my answer.”

He begins to notice the gazes of the rest of the film crew and director that are burning right through him, feeling the colour returning to his cheeks.

Tobio looks over to you anxiously, finding you with the brighest eyes he’s ever seen, he could get lost in them if he stared into them long enough. You purse your lips for a moment, before a smile blossoms across your face.

“Wow, Tobio,” you breathe out dreamily, “That was… so sweet of you to say,” Tobio has a hard time meeting your gaze, you can tell he’s still feeling anxious so you grab his hand and force him to look you in the eye.

“I will always support you, okay?” You tell him firmly, he’s a bit startled at how forward you’re being but nods before you quickly add, “Even if I don’t like being so far away from you, you don’t need to worry about me. Don’t be so nervous about this, alright?”

Tobio’s lips quiver into a strained frown before he sighs, “It’s not that simple,” you feel his hand give yours a light squeeze for comfort, interlocking his fingers with your own. “I wish I could just… not be so worried for you. But I love you too much for that.”

“Loving me means you understand that no matter what, I am right behind you,” you voice to him directly. “Maybe not physically, but no matter where you go, I will follow eventually.”

Tobio goes silent for a few seconds, even when he knows dozens of people in this studio— hundreds of thousands are watching him live, he’s only looking at you; having eyes only for you. With a shaky nod of his head, he finally manages to crack a smile.

“I understand.”

Releasing your hand from his grip, he pulls his next question for you from the pile, looking far more relaxed than he did at the beginning of your game. He’s comfortable in this stage of your relationship, even if he knows that others think it’s strange— the distance between you two, the long engagement period.

He knows the only opinion that should matter to him—that does matter to him is yours alone.

“When you hear my name in public, what comes to your mind?”

“That you have done another amazing set,” You answer with ease, allowing yourself to feed his ego for once. “Or won another game, who knows at this point? You can do it all.”

Tobio seems satisfied with that answer, even uncharacteristically relishing in your praise. “Ah, I am pretty good at volleyball, aren’t I?”

You lean over the table to punch his shoulder lightly, a teasing grin dances on your lips which matches his own, “Yeah yeah, you’re welcome for being so supportive of my fiancé.”

“Well thank you then, love.”

One of the camera crew’s members motions to the director, indicating it’s almost time to wrap up the broadcast. Feeling at peace, you grab the final card of the question deck, eyes flickering to Tobio as you read.

“Anything else you’d like to say to me about our engagement?”

Tobio takes a deep breath, steadying himself before he speaks. He wants to make sure he tells you everything on his mind, but maybe that will have to wait for another time— a more private time.

One that isn’t being broadcasted on national television. So he’ll settle for the next best course.

“I just wanted to say…” He hesitates for a moment, his mouth opening and closing at times until he can find his bearings. “That being engaged to you has taught me a lot of things.”

You’re about to say something in response until he holds his hand up, indicating he isn’t done yet.

“And… I wouldn’t mind if we stayed like this forever.”

Tobio notices the slight look of confusion in your eyes as he continues, “Wh-what I mean is, uh… even though we aren’t married yet, you make me so happy that I feel like I could be okay with what we have.”

“I still want to marry you!” He blurts out worriedly in an attempt to explain himself, “But knowing you’re not bothered by how long we’re engaged for is enough to reassure me that no matter how long we wait for, I’ll still be as happy as the day we marry.”

Tobio shuts his eyes, burying his head in his hands from sheer embarrassment, “Fuck, that was so stupid sounding-”

“Hey now..” You pry his hands away from his face with a pout, leaning across the table’s surface to cup his cheek, “That wasn’t stupid, that was sweet!”

“Really?” He asks, unsure if he believes you, “I’m not really good with my words, y’know.”

“Well I understood what you meant,” you smile, pressing a kiss to your ring finger and placing it on your fiancé’s lips, “And I feel the same way.”

Tobio’s face erupts into a bright scarlet red as you pour the two of you a shot of Sake each, downing them together with your rings on prominent display for all of Japan to see.

Your fiancé is still quite popular in Japan despite now playing overseas, overhearing the NHK film crew and the thousands of viewers who tuned in were watching his broadcast with you while dying in laughter.

It’s not laughter to mock him however— as he soon finds out when after the cameras cut and he can still hear the staff talking about how adorable he looked during the live special.

And his old highschool friends blowing up his phone, sending him clips of his broadcast with hearts and kissy face emojis, but you swear to him that it’s all well intentioned. Maybe not Tsukishima’s to some extent, but nontheless.

All Tobio knows he can do is sigh, turn his phone off and settle into your arms after everything’s been said and done. His time in Japan is limited after all, he has to fly back to Italy in a few days time.

He knows it hurts to leave you again, and you hate sending him off at the airport. He wishes he could marry you immediately— but there’s still so much to be done until that day can arrive.

Tobio doesn’t know when the lucky day will come when you can instead wear a wedding ring on your finger rather than an engagement ring, but as Tobio has discovered today; the two of you will be okay until then despite it all.

It takes a lot to make Tobio anxious about your engagement, but it also takes a lot to shake the strong foundation the two of you have built with each other over the years.

The two of you have planned your future with each other as the main component of it all in the centre of it for as long as you can remember, and he’s prepared to withstand any obstacles that threaten his happiness with you.

Tobio is at ease knowing you have his back, and he has yours even while seperated by thousands of miles of stretching oceans and ground.

reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

#megumi reads #megumi and haikyuu #megumi and bokuto #megumi and kageyama #megumi and kiyoomi #megumi and yaku #oh this made me tear up #made my heart all warm and giddy 🥹#so wholesome and so sweet #soft fluffy goodness #sweet tooth rotting fluff

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afewproblems · 1 year ago

Note

Ooo steddie and #78 could be so good

78. "You weren't supposed to hear that."

Thank you nonny, I hope I've done the prompt justice!

"How did I get so lucky," Steve mumbles tiredly into the planes of Eddie's pale back.

He's fast asleep on his front, passed out with a blissed out smile still pulling at his mouth, his face turned towards Steve on his pillow.

Steve leans down and kisses his naked shoulder, watching the steady rise and fall of Eddie's breathing and the way the moonlight filtering through Steve's bedroom window paints his skin silver.

It's new, this thing between them, but Steve's heart has never cared about things like that.

He's all in already, not that Eddie needs to know.

Steve's not stupid enough to scare him away with something like this, big feelings that happened way too quickly.

Steve absently traces one of the jagged demobat scars, and sighs contentedly.

He can let himself have this, he can let himself say it just this once, no consequences.

"I love you," he whispers, letting the words hang in the quiet room.

"Oh, sweetheart," Eddie mumbles, making Steve freeze.

Fuck.

Eddie rolls over and sits up, swiping a hand over his face and into his hair. He flips a handful of curls out of his eyes and smiles broadly, but it disappears the moment he sees Steve's stricken expression.

"You weren't supposed to hear that," Steve manages to say, his heart in his throat.

He lifts his gaze to the window behind them, briefly calculating the likelihood of breaking his leg by jumping out the window or how quickly the cops would be called for indecent exposure.

He could always lock himself in the bathroom -it's the least outlandish plan and one that won't result in bodily harm or an arrest.

He startles again as a gentle hand caresses his cheek.

"Where did you go?" Eddie murmurs, he still looks concerned, and a bit confused now, his big brown eyes flick back and forth between Steve's own.

"Do I need to radio the party babe? Because I'm not that keen for them to catch us with our pants down".

Eddie's grinning as he says it but his brow is pinched and Steve can't take his big brown eyes staring with such open concern.

"It's okay, Eddie, really," Steve mumbles.

His fingers gather the fabric of the sheets into his fists as he brings them up to further cover himself.

"You don't have to pretend you didn't hear me, we can, you can," he bites his lip and takes a deep breath through his nose.

He can do this, he can do what he should have done for Nancy.

"You don't have to stay here and pretend--"

"Woah, woah, what the fuck are you talking about?" Eddie says sharply, he turns to face Steve fully, letting the sheets pool around his hips.

"Please don't make me say it again," Steve croaks, his voice brittle and wane in the quiet room.

The words, you're bullshit, we're bullshit, echo distantly, again and again.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says gently, "I don't understand what you're talking about".

Steve swallows, feeling as though his chest is about to crack in two with how fast his heart is beating, "I said I love you."

Eddie stares blankly at him, lifting his hands in a go-on, motion.

"I…it's too soon," he picks at a loose thread hanging from the sheet fabric twisted between his fingers, "isn't it?"

At this Eddie softens entirely.

He sucks his teeth and pulls Steve towards him with a long sigh.

"Sweetheart," Eddie murmurs into Steve's hair as he nuzzles his ear, lifting his face to nibble gently on the lobe, "darling, light of my life, oh fairest knight, my honey nut cheerio--"

"Okay, knock it off," Steve groans as he tries to get out from Eddie's arms but they tighten around Steve, holding him in place.

"My love," Eddie hums, making Steve pause, "oh you like that one huh?"

Eddie leans back and lifts his hand to tip up Steve's chin, from this angle Steve can see the barest of freckles dust over his nose and the crinkles at the edges of his eyes.

They're too young for wrinkles but Steve can see where they will eventually make their home, a whole future on Eddie's face.

"Who says it's too soon? Fuck that," he says roughly now, his brown eyes flit between Steve's own, "I love you too, no take backs".

Eddie swipes his thumb over the crest of Steve's cheek, catching a tear he hadn't realized was there.

No, not now.

Steve tries to duck his head, to wipe his eyes and pinch his nose but Eddie beats him to it as he leans in to lay smacking kisses all over, on his closed eyes, Steve's cheeks, his chin -which Eddie pauses to nibble on just like his ears, before finally attempting to place a gentle kiss against his lips which have pulled into a wide giggling grin.

"Be serious Steve," Eddie huffs, tamping down his own smile, "shit, how am I supposed to kiss my boyfriend when he's laughing like a damn loon?"

Steve feels like crying all over again.

"Say it again," Steve murmurs, his eyes still closed, some small part still worried if he opens them this will all disappear.

"My boyfriend," Eddie hums, pressing one last kiss to Steve's nose, "I'll say it as many times as you need me to until you believe it Stevie".

"I love you," Eddie whispers again as he tilts Steve's face up before kissing his lips. It’s chaste but the way he sucks on Steve’s bottom lip as he pulls away and waggles his eyebrows makes Steve sigh.

"What do you say I take my boyfriend to bed?" Eddie says softly against Steve's lips as he climbs over him, bracketing his hands on either side of Steve's head.

"I'd say we're already here you dork--"

The rest of his sentence is lost in a grunt as Eddie let's himself fall into Steve, muttering about how vengeance will be nearly as sweet as him.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #established relationship #hurt and comfort #oh steve you sweet muffin #steve x eddie #afewproblems writes #afewproblems answers #making the blorbos kiss #this is so sweet and fluffy i can sell it at a carnival for profit #get ready for tooth rotting fluff over here

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pygmi-cygni · 3 months ago

Text

Mi Luz - Miguel x reader fluff fic

Content warnings - diabetes-inducing fluff, no smut, kissing, emotional constipation

Summary: Miguel has been struggling with stress, and a soft little somebody can't seem to leave his head. Pining, crush, cute cute cute big man

slow burn for two seconds cause I have no self control

Reader is afab, no y/n, described with having large eyes but that's it

love you sweet thing, enjoy ☆

It was hard to be the king of everything.

That's somewhat what he thought of himself, sitting at the top of his tall but lonely throne, scrutinizing his subjects. Miguel didn't choose this life, it chose him. The bitterness that came with the weight of the world sat thick in his mouth, twisting his lips into a snarl and his brow into a scowl. No surprise that the Spiders around him didn't meet his eye unless to cower in fear.

It didn't bother him. He liked being alone, enjoyed the quiet of his lair - except when his pesky assistant ruined his brooding with her obnoxiously loud voice-

"aw Migs, I thought we were besties..." her pixelated pout hung in front of his eyes.

never shoulda taken you out of the drafts, he muttered, but there was no venom behind the words.

Miguel wasn't a recluse, he was just...busy. Too busy to chat, to 'hang out,' as his younger employees begged. He had shit to do, people to save. Friendship didn't fit in his schedule.

So he stalked through the halls as little as possible, shouldering past cliques and couples holding hands. He didn't need that shit.

Okay, so maybe it bothered him a little bit. Not a lot. Just a smidge. An itsy bitsy amount, if you'll pardon the pun. Hardly worthwhile. Nothing to write home about. Just something that churned in the back of his mind every waking moment of his day came up once in a while.

The irony didn't escape him, how aura sensitivity seemed to be bestowed on the least sensitive man out there. The radiating emotion and color bouncing off of everyone that passed gave him a headache. Miguel had no spidey sense to speak of, no superhuman reflexes, but the minute someone's mood changed, his ears were pricking. Not that he cared.

He didn't care that his chest ached when the sour green of fear laced the aura of his visitors. It was like a switch; he'd walk into the room, and the once shining gold and pastel hues would darken to a nervous blue, thrumming with panic. Some could pass it off, putting on a brave smile for him, but he could see. Miguel could see every shift in hue that betrayed just how little HQ liked him.

But it didn't bother him. He was king of the world.

Miguel's fangs dug into his lower gums as he ground his teeth through the debrief. It had been a shitshow; a group of rookies too unfamiliar with the terrain to do anything other than Fuck It Up. Four of them, Spider-girl 2045, Huntsman, and the twins, Recluse and Widow. All young and stupid.

Currently, all four were talking over each other, auras flashing like disco balls as they bickered over who had the right story.

"I friggin told you, Wid, that's not the right street, it was definitely 45th-"

"Oh, suck my webshooter, that wasn't even the right universe-"

"Would somebody please figure it the fuck out before I send you all back to the void!"

A meek silence followed his outburst.

Miguel was heaving, red eyes glaring down at the comedy of errors beneath him. The kids stared at him with wide, fearful eyes. Shame and embarrassment swirled around them in a sludgy grey haze.

Shit. He did it again, he was trying to be better but they were so fucking annoying and it was loud and his head hurt-

"Go home," he seethed quietly, "figure it out, and come back when your heads are out of your asses."

Not waiting for another scathing word, the Spiders scattered.

With a bone rattling sigh, Miguel collapsed onto his desk frustratedly. Why was he like this? His temper was so strong, no matter how hard he tried to reign it in. Peter had a toddler for chrissakes and hardly ever raised his voice.

LYLA hovered over his shoulder, a knowing look on her face. He nudged his face further into the desk, shutting out her abrasive glow.

"Go 'way," he muttered, teeth scraping the plasticene surface. As always, she ignored him.

"You need help, Miguel. I mean it, hey don't-" her voice went stern as he reached to disable her.

"I don't wanna hear this again," he growled, fumbling for the controls.

"Well, I'm sure these kids don't wanna be screamed at again either, and your feelings are not more important than theirs."

His carmine eyes simmered with rage as he halted. She was right, of course she was right but god why did it hurt-

Shame licked his ribs and he ducked his chin.

LYLA took the opportunity.

"With the new universes we just discovered, there'll be a whole batch of new recruits. Is this really how you wanna run this? Christ, Migs, it's almost better to be independent than deal with you."

At his huff, she crossed her arms. Prancing to the front of his chair, she tapped his nose.

"You can fix it, if you really want to. But who cares if they're saving the world when the world they live in has people like you?"

She blinked out of existence, as a shameful blush reddened his cheeks.

Fuck.

☆ ☆ ☆

Twenty new spiders would be arriving today at noon on the dot. Miguel could already feel the migraine coming on as he discussed logistics with Jess and Peter. Training, tours, watches, all the work was piling in his mind.

"Miguel?"

Jess' sharp tone brought him out of his reverie. She looked expectant, a stack of files outstretched. "Did you hear what I just said?"

His blank stare triggered an eye roll. "These Spiders need Multiverse tracking, so you'll take them to the Center at 2:30, yeah?"

Miguel acquiesced gruffly and snatched the files, Meeting adjourned, he waited for his office to be clear again.

Peter hung back, aura churning with conflict.

Oh boy, here we go.

"Hey big guy....up for a chat?" Peter's eyes were bright but wary, and Miguel shot him a weary look.

"I don't have time to chat, Parker, we've been over this," he bit out.

"It's important."

"I don't care, write me an email-"

"Huntsman is AWOL."

Miguel blinked, fiery words fizzling on his tongue. Impossible. He'd just seen him an hour ago, how could that be? Sighing impatiently, he began searching for the small boy on his wall of screens.

"Miguel."

"What."

"You scared him pretty bad, dude. I know you don't like to here this, and I'll try to keep the hippy-dippy to a minimum, but dude," Peter breathed, eyes worried. Miguel struggled to make eye contact, hating the rare sincerity of his tone.

"I mean..." Peter faltered, gesturing to the door. "Voidspace is no joke. Especially some of those kids, where they've come from...you gotta fix your stuff. That's not cool. Jess and I have been-"

You gotta be fucking kidding me.

"Don't look at me like that," Peter scolded. "You know I'm right."

Miguel seethed out his nose, hands clenching and unclenching around his tablet. god, if only other people saw feelings the way he did, maybe they'd leave him alone.

"I," he spat, "am aware that my temper is...volatile. But-"

"No buts," Jess said from behind him. He whirled. The tension was strangling the air from the room. He needed a break. There was so much to do...

"How you talked to the recruits today was unacceptable. Don't act like you're above consequence," She said in response to his growl. "That behavior is appalling. We can find someone else to do this, you know."

His anger dissipated. She wouldn't.

"You wouldn't."

"If it meant helping the success of the next generation, I would."

Miguel, for once in a long time, felt the sting of tears in his throat. Sensing the shift, Peter gave him an awkward shoulder pat and retreated.

"We care about you, man," he said gently, "but you gotta work this out."

With that, the door slammed shut, and Miguel was alone.

Again.

☆ ☆ ☆

He thumbed the corner of his sweatshirt, damp from his workout. Peter's conversation rattled around his brain. He didn't think he'd been that harsh. He never meant-

He never meant to hurt anyone.

But it was inevitable, wasn't it? No matter how hard he tried, someone always got hurt. His tongue was too sharp, his claws too fast.

Her form, small, clutched in his arms, deteriorating into pixels as she sobbed-

No.

He wasn't doing this again. Miguel stared at himself until he was sure the mirror would crack. They deserved better. He deserved better. It was cowardly, the way he hid from emotion.

Was that what it was?

Was he afraid? Afraid to reach out for it to snap back in his face? It seemed so childish, like there should be something more than the fear of other people keeping him at bay. Gabi was gone. There was no changing that. He knew that in his head, but his heart?

The roiling stew of his emotions made his chest tight. He couldn't do this, not right now.

Maybe tomorrow.

It was late. Or early, depending on how you looked at it. Miguel was steadily working, a slight burn in his red-rimmed eyes the only indication that he was tired. Adrenaline buzzed through his veins, keeping his back rigid and muscles taut.

Another anomaly, another fight, another file. click-click-click went his keyboard, rhythmic in the the empty office.

Almost empty, that is.

Out of the corner of his eye, a soft shine radiated from the doorway. Biting back a sigh, he leveled his tired glare with the figure, mentally preparing himself for one of Peter's scoldings. But as the figure drew closer, he realized he didn't recognize the shimmery white aura or the person attached to it.

"Miguel O'Hara?"

A soft, lilting voice carried from the base of his tower. Miguel blinked, not recognizing the voice either.

"Yes?" He responded gruffly, wracking his brain for who the fuck could be visiting him at this time of night -

"Um...Can...Can you roll down? O-or something? I'm sorry, I just can't really see..." the sweet voice faltered and he rolled his eyes.

Maybe, if they'd waited till a reasonable hour to visit him, his chair would be in a more reasonable position. But nooo.....

Regardless, he began the slow descent from his perch. As he grew closer to the ground, the pearlescent light grew more in focus. Miguel came to the conclusion that he definitely did not know you.

Your expression was patient and soft, standing with your hands folded and dressed in a comfortable sweater. You must be new; most seasoned Spiders wore suits out of convenience. A file was grasped loosely in front of you.

"I'm supposed to be working in the office next door, and it seems I wasn't given a keycard?" Your owlish gaze turned hopeful, and he was taken aback by your gentle gaze.

Miguel had never seen someone with such large eyes. Round and long-lashed, they exuded warmth and an innocence that reminded him of her

No.

Stop it.

"Uh, yeah, hang on a second," He fumbled for his watch and pushed past you, not waiting for you to follow.

His mind was reeling, trying to recall if he was supposed to know who you were. Jess had mentioned an assistant, but he figured it would be someone less....soft. More experienced, that is. Besides, he didn't trust you. No way was he just shoving the fate of the universe in your hands, even though your eyes were nice and you didn't cower when he spoke-

Stop. It.

He exhaled loudly, trying to expel the thoughts with it. You stood next to him, ever patient. Your halo, he found, was still that shimmering white. It was a soft light, not glaring and oppressive like the colors of his teammates. It soothed his headache rather than aggravated it.

Realizing he was staring dumbly at the locked door, he sighed again and slid the keycard across the pad.

Error.

Miguel blinked. He had the master card, it applied to every door, what the hell? Trying again, he felt impatience coiling in his chest. What....

Peter. Peter had borrowed his card to let Mayday out of a lab she'd snuck into. He promised he'd return it by today, but knowing him....

"I can't fucking believe this," Miguel muttered venomously, "he takes the most valuable piece of tech I have and fucking forgets to return it, that irresponsible piece of...shouldn't even be a father, gotta be kidding-"

"Miguel?"

He froze, having forgotten you were there. Humiliation tinged his cheeks. He'd done it again, fuck, he wasn't even trying-

"If it's too much trouble, I can just get my card tomorrow." Your voice was patient and placating.

He shuffled his feet, unsure of how to handle your response.

You were still glowing with a soft white light, tinged only by a slight pink hue. Sympathy. No fear, no ugly red anger or terror at his temper. your eyes. you looked him in the eye. you smiled at him. you wanted to help-

His throat, too choked up with confusion and pity and ugh that he merely grunted and ducked back into his office, leaving your soft gaze behind.

☆ ☆ ☆

God, it drove him crazy. Your patience. Your light. He could feel you from yards away, your glow that was always warm, always kind. Your card arrived safely, and there wasn't another mishap between you two.

Every day, you'd pitter-patter into his office on soft feet and explain the schedule to him, then go through the mission briefs with a gentle tone that didn't falter, even if he grouched about the conferences overriding his lunch break.

He didn't think he'd need an assistant. He could do it himself, had been forever. But you...helped. Your organization was impeccable, finding reason and structure where his brain only saw chaos. Miguel was terrible with time management, but you'd give him a gentle reminder that it was time for a break, or that the work was done and his brooding could be saved for tomorrow.

Go home, Miguel, you whispered kindly, tucking a bag of dessert into his large palms. I'll see you tomorrow.

Well, he'd see you sooner. He liked to think about you. It didn't feel like daydreaming, because you worked together and therefore thinking about you was thinking about work, technically. It puzzled him, how your patience never wavered. You'd heard the stories, comforted victims of his wrath. But your light only burned brighter with him, never dampened in contempt.

He noticed it first at a work party. Miguel hated these functions, found them boring and tedious. Chatting about mundane things while nursing cheap wine and a migraine? He'd pass.

Then, you arrived. Dressed in a soft purple sweater and a long skirt god he loved your sweaters, how warm and docile your eyes hidden shyly beneath your hair. He itched to walk over, but nerves rooted him to the spot. You were tucked against a wall, clearly uncomfortable, and as your gaze scanned the busy room...

you landed on him. And,

you glowed. radiantly, your nervous blue haze shimmered with a soft golden happiness, and you waved with a smile. Miguel swallowed thickly.

You were happy to see him. He, who never gave you more than two word sentences, who snapped and bickered and bit like a hissing cat, made your halo glow so bright it warmed his cheeks.

Nobody had ever felt that way about him. And it was so fucking stupid, the giddiness that made him dizzy. Decency was all it was. You were just being nice. And here he was, a blushing melting mess because you were happy to see him.

He looked forward to you even more after that. Slowly, he tried his best to bite his tongue, to keep the irritation from spewing. Instead, he tried fanning the flames with small talk, stumbling through conversation like a lovesick teenager.

He could tell you were surprised, but you welcomed the change. You would sit at the edge of his desk and talk about random occurrences, silly mundane things that still made his cheeks ache from smiling. How the slowly brightening halo of light around you made him adore you more, even if you had to sheepishly apologize when it got too bright.

don't be sorry, mi luz, he wanted to whisper, I love to see you shine.

Then, inevitably, you would pad back to your office and your light would be gone. Miguel would pout at the loss, missing the gentle glow that made his chest ache.

So he decided to do something about it.

You were revising a plan against the latest anomaly in sector AB-7. His tablet was clutched to you as you curled against his chair. The warmth emanating from your aura made him melt with adoration, eyes growing heavy-

"Migs?"

He hummed, still gazing. You'd picked up the nickname from his AI, and he wanted to curl up in your lap every time you said it.

"You look tired, I'll let you rest." You placed the tablet back on his desk and patted his shoulder god do it again please before turning-

"No."

He murmured it, not quite pleading. You stopped, tilting your head in confusion. "You...can stay. There's room down there, if you still wanna work," he added gruffly.

You didn't say anything, and he felt the words rush out. "It just- it just seems strange that you'd be working in a different office when you spend so much time here anyway, but don't worry about it, it's fine-"

"Migs," you said, so gentle it made his toes curl. "I'd love that."

And hence began the worst mistake of his productive career. Because now you'd made a home in the corner of his space, and your softness was always there, so inviting for him to marvel at. He'd lost hours of working just staring.

He learned everything he could about you. How you weren't cleared to fight, which is why you could afford do dress so comfortable. Fine by him, he'd blow a fuse if something happened to you. As long as he could keep you tucked in his little haven, safe for him to admire, he didn't give a fuck.

Jess would raise her eyebrows at your constant presence, but his heart rate was lower and he smiled. She'd never been more shocked.

He was doing better.

Miguel soon found himself focusing all of his spare attention on you. Buying you sweaters, letting you watch your favorites movies on his widescreen, doing anything to make your light glow a little brighter.

This was....different. he hadn't had this, not for a long while. It made him nervous, a little undercurrent of shyness beneath his desire to make you smile. You were never as forward with him, kind as ever but at a distance. He would take what he could get, though. As long as your light kept shining, he'd bask in its warmth.

☆ ☆ ☆

God, what a meeting. He'd zoned out halfway through, so astronomically exhausted that he could barely keep his eyes open. His thoughts were consumed with the idea of taking a nap on the old sofa you'd shoved into his office. you'd be right next to him, reading and playing with his hair, oh god if only the clock would move faster- Miguel almost lept out of his chair when the meeting concluded.

His feet quickened back towards his office, feeling your light trickle under the door.

Oh. uh oh. uh oh uh oh.

He stood frozen, staring at his desk. You had made yourself comfortable in his chair, napping with your chin tucked and hair mussed and he felt his chest grow tight god what is happening to him good christ-

Miguel swallowed roughly and peered down at your closed eyes. Your aura was a soft pink, content and sweet. He wanted to hold you so badly. God, that's what he'd been needing. To tuck you up in one of your devilishly soft sweaters and keep his little light all to himself.

It wasn't lust, his desire for touch. Lust felt too carnal, too vile for you. He would never defile you like that, wanting only to watch you shimmer and preen with happiness. Little light, mi luz, so soft...

His eyes were shining with adoration as he looked at you. He didn't know how long it had been, and he didn't care. But after a moment, he realized sleeping on his straight-backed chair would hurt your back. He needed to move you. Hold you on his lap, he was softer and warmer and god help him-

Taking a breath, Miguel slid his forearms under your curled form and lifted slowly, careful not to jostle you. Whatever love demon was inside keened with joy, and he wanted to weep. As he gently maneuvered you towards your comfortable armchair, he caught a shift in your body. Freezing again, he waited for you to finish squirming, finally settling with your head tucked in his neck.

And oh, mi luz

You were glowing warmer now, the faint blush shimmering gold against your hair. Miguel's lips quivered and he began to rock gently. His hands shook with care. He could feel the tranquility rolling off of you in heavy waves, making his eyes heavy and his heart full. You felt safe with him. Soft snuffling breaths against his collar and hands clutched loosely at his nape sent shivers down his back.

He was going to die. His chest burned with the need to shout, to scream with excitement. Finally finally, little soft light, all his to hold-

Miguel might have been squeezing too tight in his joy, because your brow pinched and you mewled in discomfort. He immediately hushed you, coaxing you back into golden sleep. Crooking his elbow so you laid comfortably over his shoulder.

"Sleep, mi luz, I have you. I have you," he cooed, nudging his nose into your jaw. You sighed contentedly and murmured a good night as he gently laid with you in the armchair. He buried his face in your hair, shivering with the warmth that enveloped him.

☆ ☆ ☆

Wherever this was, he never wanted to leave. Miguel felt syrupy and languid, wrapped in a cocoon of something that felt divinely warm and safe and

"Migs?"

A rustle, and the lovely bundle in his arms blinked blearily at him. His lovestruck eyes shone down at his little love, and he smiled gently.

"Hi, dovey," he murmured, rubbing your back, "sleep well?"

You nodded and scooted up, seated fully against his chest. Your aura pulsed sluggishly, dripping like honey. Miguel was too busy sweetly nosing your cheek to notice the hues dancing around your head. still half-asleep, you purred happily, dozing gently against his warm neck. Miguel kept up, suckling gently behind your ear and across your lips and everywhere he could reach without waking you. He could do this for hours.

The warmth was beginning to singe his hair though, and he hissed gently.

"Mi luz," he whispered, trying as gently as possible to rouse you. You whined at the wake-up, doe eyes drowsy and unfocused.

"Your halo, mi sol," he whispered, pecking your cheek, "getting a little warm is all."

you blushed, quickly dampening the shining haze of love you had blanketed over the both of you. Miguel grunted and laid his head back again. You followed suit, curling against him as close as possible.

'love you,' your lips murmured into his skin.

'mi luz,' he said reverently, and his soft mouth soothed you back to sleep.

that's all folks! might do some lil drabbles off of this but idk yet. hope you enjoyed, requests are open, ilysm xox

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma @iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world @ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @migueloharasbbm @ridiculous-hibiscus @seeeuspaceecowboyyy @neeshsoodrippedout @llumetrii @iminloveweveryone

tags, comment to join

#miguel o'hara #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #miguel x reader #miguel is a simp #cuddles #cozy #grumpy x sunshine #happy ending #drabble #x reader #sweet miguel #fanfic #spiderman atsv #atsv #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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localcanadiancreature62 · 3 days ago

Text

Fiddlestan au Stan and Fidds argument Post Weirdmaggedon

@mickeytk Here.

////////////////////////////////////////////////

Stan is watching the Duchess Approves in the living room as he hears the loud noises of Dipper and Mabel running around from upstairs as they do dumb kid stuff like forcing each other to gross smelling sniff scratch and sniff stickers,he sighs contentedly as he can finally have peaceful quiet moments like this again without having to worry about the portal or Bill hurting his family anymore. He then smiles as he turns up the volume of his favorite show while eating a can of meat. "Ah. This is the life. No Bill,no portal,no apocalypse,just me in my house and my family being left to their own devices. I sure hope this peace sticks forever." Stan says to himself as he enjoys his quiet afternoon,until he heard the rough knocking on the door. He decided to ignore it as he figured it was probably some dumb gnomes trying to get in and steal food again plus he was busy watching the good part where Duchess sues Count Lionel for killing her new husband. But the knocking persisted. He then groans in annoyance as he walked up to the door to answer it as neither the kids nor his brother were around to answer with them being busy having fun elsewhere. To his surprise,Fiddleford Mcgucket was at his door. He tried to not act happy about the southern man finally reaching out after those painful years of watching him lose himself. "What's your business here,Hick?. Tell me now or i'll shut the door on your freakishly long nose." Stan asks as the hillbilly looked at him with his big bright eyes and charming smile while he lightly blushed,the con man almost vomiting from the fact that the southerner STILL makes him feel this way even after how much he hurt him. "Ah just wanted to see Stanferd' so i could show him my new plans for creating a trapping device fer anomalies. And i.. want to talk to you." Fiddleford explains as he stared at the former grifter expectantly. "Ford's not here,Mcgucket. He's chasing some new moth species in the forest. Get lost." Stan says in frustration,not wanting to face his ex despite how his gut tells him that he absolutely needs to and even yearns to. Fidds isn't offended by the man's harshness in the slightest. As based on the things he recollected about the con's behavior through the kids telling him stories about him,he was always a grump who often avoided being "sappy" unless he couldn't take it anymore. "Well fine. I know how bad ya feel about our.. separation,darlin'. Stanferd' has been telling me about your guilt and how bad you took the heartbreak lately ever since he found out about our relationship. If ya really want me to leave again,i understand. Yer probably not ready to talk yet anyway-." Fiddleford remarks as he then tries to walk away,only for the swindler to grab him by the wrist. "Damnit Ford. I can't believe he told you even when i explicitly told him to NOT tell you anything about my pathetic moping over the break up. And uhhh,you can stay. I.. want to talk too." Stan replied as he opened the door a bit wider to let the hillbilly in as Fiddleford enters the building while the con guided him to the kitchen where they can discuss their relationship more comfortably. Stan sat in his chair while Fiddleford sat at the chair in front of him. "So what do you have to say for yourself?. After making me go through that dumb memory gun 'experiment',which was just an excuse to rope me into your problems." Stan says bitterly,leaving out the part where he heavily grieved the southern man after he lost his sanity in the final moments of the memory tapes before the car crash occurred. "Ah never meant to force you into anything back then. You were completely willing to help at first despite you being annoyed at having to be the camera man." Fiddleford explains as he watched the man shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"Well what about the part where you left me after that car crash and made ME fix the portal while i tried to avoid your cult mess?." Stan remarks as he balled his fists in anger while his hands are placed on the table,wanting to retaliate at the hillbilly for making him hurt for so long yet he doesn't as part of him still deeply cares about the nerd. "I- Ah wasn't in my right mind back then and i figured that the entire world was against me with my slipping sanity as well as paranoia. I had to leave,Stanley or else i wouldn't have held onto the sliver of peace i kept before i fully lost mah mind." Fiddleford says as he looked at the man in guilt,but then Stan banged his fist on the table as he couldn't take it anymore. He needed the hillbilly to know how bad he hurt him.

"YOUR peace?. What about me?,huh?. With the little sanity you had during that time,didn't you once think about how much your little memory gun fiasco affected ME?!. YOUR PARTNER?!. Don't you get it,Fiddlesticks?. You HURT me. You left me to suffer from your dwindling mental state and THEN you abandoned me last minute when your mind couldn't take it anymore,leaving ME to cover up all evidence of YOUR insane cult from the house. I spent those days of memory gun testing watching my beloved southern nerd,the person most important to me at the time,destroy himself with a damn memory erasing ray while you never even called or talked to me about what you were going through before you got into that cult." Stan exclaims as he started crying angry tears as Fiddleford gasps in disbelief at his reaction. "Stanley,hun. Ah had no choice!. Ah had no choice but to leave or else you would've been roped in deeper into my problems. I couldn't reach out because i felt like clawing mah skull with every memory erasure!. Do ya know how hard it was to keep it together while knowin' full well that the gun was ruining me?!." Fiddleford says in slight annoyance over the con not considering how he felt at the time. "No no YOU don't understand. Do you know how hard it was for ME,to see your unhinged bastard self everyday while knowing full well that i couldn't talk to you about what happend with your empty noggin?!. I spent half of my life thinking that it was my fault,Fiddleford. I kept thinking that i was the reason why you went back to using that damned gun,i hated myself for never talking about our issues which lead to you using the memory gun with our every argument. Something i didn't know was actually ruining your brilliant mind with every use." Stan explains as he kept crying,more out of sadness and hurt this time instead of rage. "I did everything for you. I protected you from monsters,i made dinner for you even when i was used to living off of granola bars and couldn't cook for shit,i comforted you every time you had nightmares about Ford coming back to hurt you for quitting the project. Yet you still subjected me to that memory gun shit,and you left me despite everything we've been through together. Heh. Every time i get attached to someone,they always leave me in the end. Whether it's Ford,my old heist buddies Jorge and Rico,or you." Stan remarks bitterly as tears fell on his chest while he kept bawling from the horrible heartbreak as Fiddleford took a guilty glance at him,as he never knew how bad his dwindling sanity affected the man until now. "I.. Stanley. I'm so sorry. I- I had no idea that what i did hurt you that much. I never meant to hurt you,i just made a lot of regrettable decisions and my past arguments with you were just the catalyst. It was never your fault,the blame is all on me. I didn't mean to make you suffer with my problems,i sincerely apologize and i feel terrible for doing all of that to you without realizing how much it hurt ya." Fiddleford explains as he expresses genuine regret for his actions,but the con turns his back on him and refuses to accept his apology. "Sorry won't reverse the unimaginable amount of heartbreak you gave me." Stan says in slight annoyance,as he has accepted the man's apology but he's still angry at him for never explaining himself until 30 years have passed.

"Will this change yer mind?." Fiddleford replied as he then kissed the con straight on the mouth as he placed a light peck on his grifter's lips,the man blushing as he pulled away while leaving the man dumbfounded as Stan laughed from being tickled by the hillbilly's trimmed beard. "Ahahahaha! Fidds,your beard made my mouth feel funny." Stan remarks as he smiled at the hillbilly slyly looked at him. "But ah thought you were still mad at me?~." Fiddleford says as he blushes while staring at the con with pure love in his eyes. "I'm not anymore. Now that you gave me that long overdue apology and that great kiss~." Stan replied as he then kisses the southern nerd again,giving him a longgg slobbery smooch as the saliva connecting their lips breaks soon after he pulls away. "Ah missed yer kisses,and that adorable laugh." Fiddleford says as he smiled at the con,with Stan smiling back as he finally got his nerd back. All he wanted was to hear the man apologize,and get his hillbilly back instead of constantly seeing that empty mindless and insane husk that he became everyday,and he got both in one fateful afternoon. "I missed ya too,Fiddlesticks. I'm so glad to have you back. And we have plenty of time to make up for lost time before the kids come over to pester us about our relationship." Stan remarks as he then looked at the nerd with adoring eyes. "I'd like that. But first,let me hold you again like i always did. C'mere." Fiddleford replied as he gestures for the con to come over,which he obliges as he let himself get tightly embraced by the taller elder as he started crying tears of joy as he hasn't had felt the warm touch of his nerd in years (someone help this touch starved man). Fiddleford then winces in guilt as he thought he messed up again. "Hey,what's wrong?. Why are ya cryin' again?." Fiddleford asks as he kept gently holding his grifter in his arms. "N-Nothing. It's just- I haven't felt your warm embrace in such a long time. I'm so happy to feel it again." Stan replied as he smiled at his nerd while Fiddleford sighs in relief. "And am' glad to hold ya again. C'mere,darlin'." Fiddleford says as he then grabbed the man by the shirt collar as he lightly made out with him,with both of them blushing deeply as Fidds gently caressed his con man's face. Stan smiled through the kiss as he realized that he'll finally get to spend the rest of his life with the southern nerd he adores as he makes up for the time that the memory gun robbed from him.

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