Tumgik
#five thousand hours later and it's not even good
kimtaegis · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
V ✦ SLOW DANCING (2023)
1K notes · View notes
feminist-space · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
Cat in the Hat:
"The German Health Minister gave an important update on the Covid situation yesterday.
I’ve written up the section of his speech from the video below for easy reading.
It’s immensely refreshing to see a government minister warning of the harms of Covid in such a transparent way."
https://x.com/_catinthehat/status/1732092683508678954
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Prof. Karl Lauterbach
Health Minister, Germany
4 December 2023
"This second (long Covid) round table was very interesting, lasting three and a half hours. It serves as a unique forum for dialogue among scientists, researchers and those affected by long Covid, facilitating the exchange of ideas.
There are many new findings about long Covid. Not all of them are good news. One piece of not-so-good news concerns the fact that long Covid is actually still a problem for those who are newly infected. One estimate that has been put forward is that the risk of contracting long Covid now, even after vaccination, is around 3%. Now you may say, "that's not such a big risk" , but there are tens of thousands of people who are repeatedly affected in a short period of time. And so, the long Covid problem has not yet been solved.
We have also established that there really are many subgroups of long Covid and that we do not yet have a cure. And it was clearly pointed out that we are also dealing with problems here that will challenge society as a whole, because vascular diseases often occur after long Covid. Throughout Europe, we are currently seeing an increased incidence of cardiovascular disease in the middle-age group - from 25 to 50. This is associated with the consequences of Covid infections.
We also very often find cognitive impairment in older people. And one participant pointed out that it may well be like the Spanish flu, where 20 years after the Spanish flu there was a significant increase in Parkinson's disease and probably also dementia.
This is something we must pay attention to, as the past infection afiects how the immune system in the brain functions, as well as the brain's blood vessels, potentially increasing the long-term risk of these major neurodegenerative diseases. This is why we need to conduct very intensive research. This research has played a major role.
What is the overall assessment of the situation now?
We have to be careful. Long Covid is not curable at the moment. We also know that over 40% of those who have several manifestations of long Covid, for example, five or more, still have symptoms after 2 years, so it doesn't seem to heal spontaneously. We also know that those whose symptoms are more pronounced at the beginning are less likely to heal.
So some of what we know from the demographics of long Covid has been confirmed, and we now know more precisely which mechanisms in the brain, but also in the blood vessels and the immune system, are responsible for this. Professor Scheibenbogan will explain this briefly later.
At this point, I can only say the following - this is particularly important to me:
First of all, long Covid is a disease that stays with us and that we cannot yet cure. And we are seeing an increasing number of cases as the waves of infection continue to affect us.
Secondly, Covid is not a cold - with a cold, you don't usually see any long-term effects. You don't see any changes in the blood vessels. You don't usually see an autoimmune disease developing. You also don't usually see neurological inflammation - these are all things that we see with long Covid. Therefore, one should not assume that Covid infection is just a common cold. It can affect brain tissue and the vascular system, and we still lack an effective treatment, making these studies crucial.
Significantly, we know that the risk of long Covid decreases when you're infected but have been vaccinated. That's why it's concerning that only 3 million people have been vaccinated with the new, adapted vaccine. That is a very bad result.
Please protect yourself from severe infections.
Please protect yourself from long Covid.
Currently, the danger posed by Covid is indeed being underestimated. Nothing is worse than infecting someone at Christmas who then becomes seriously ill and may not fully recover."
Alt text is included in all images of this post.
10K notes · View notes
corkinavoid · 30 days
Text
DPxDC When You Are Suddenly Dating a Princess
This prompt is a variation of good!GIW AU (read here), but that's an excuse because I just wanted badass Jasmine Fenton and her good boy Jason Todd.
"Jason?"
The voice catches him off-guard. Not because he doesn't know it, no, quite on the opposite - he knows that voice very well, he's just heard it this morning when his beautiful girlfriend kissed him on the cheek and left for work.
It's just that he didn't expect to hear it at a closed auction full of magic artifacts, two states away from Gotham, and in a room full of rich-ass people from all around the world.
He turns around.
Jazz is looking at him with an expression of pleasant surprise, black off-shoulder silk dress with teal accents draping her figure all the way down to the floor - it's kind of reminiscent of Greek togas, with high waist and lots of folds on the skirt. It also makes his girlfriend look even taller than she is, which, Jason is fairly certain, was intentional.
She is also wearing a necklace on her neck, and just by one look at it, Jason knows that it costs at least five times more than the apartment they live in.
"Jazz?" He breathes out, astonished, but then catches himself and puts on a smile, "You look stunning." This is not the time to argue or ask questions; he is on a mission. And it's a time sensitive one, so no matter how curious he is, it can wait till later. They do live together, after all.
"Thank you," the girl smiles, and then briefly turns her head to a tall man in a very expensive dark blue suit standing beside her, "If you excuse me," she nods with an apologetic smile in the corner of her lips, and the man smiles back and takes a step away. Meanwhile, Jazz approaches Jason and casually places a hand on his elbow.
"Mind telling me what are you doing here?" She questions, and, wait, that was supposed to be his line! Jason blinks and shakes his head, snapping out of his stupor.
He can't exactly say, 'Constantine asked Batman for a favor because he knows the man is rich as fuck, so now Jason has to either buy or steal an ancient dagger for some bullshit magic ritual because he was the only one free tonight and John really needs that dagger and that ritual and Bruce owes him a favor, unfortunately'. Jazz doesn't know he is a vigilante/crime lord in redemption. She might suspect he is - that girl is perceptive on par with mind readers - but Jason never straightforwardly told her, and she never brought it up herself.
So, instead, he goes, "Sightseeing."
Jazz raises one eyebrow and pointedly looks around the dimly lit room full of magic users, rich collectors, socialites, and other shady individuals. Jason keeps smiling. Eventually, the redhead sighs and looks away, taking a step forward and guiding him through the auction at a leisurely pace.
"Looking for anything in particular?" She tries again, and Jason debates if he should answer her. On one hand, his head is buzzing with thousands of questions, starting with 'how did you even make it here when your shift at Arkham ended two hours ago' and finishing with 'to which group of shady individuals do you belong'. On the other hand, she clearly does belong here if her confident posture and outfit are taken into account.
And she is his girlfriend. Has been one for two years now. Maybe it's time to share some secrets.
"An obsidian knife with an owl on the handle," he finally says, and Jazz hums.
"A Tecpatl?" She clarifies, and Jason doesn't even feel that surprised by her sudden knowledge of Aztec culture. He nods. Jazz gives him a thoughtful glance, "And how important is it for you to have it?"
"To the point where I'm prepared to steal it if I have to," he laughs, but judging by the look on Jazz's face, she gets that he is only half-joking. She narrows her eyes at him:
"Is it for you, or for your, um, friends on the orbit?" She asks, briefly glancing up to the ceiling, and Jason feels very confused for a second there.
But then it hits him: she is talking about the Watchtower. She is implying the League.
Jason doesn't hold back a quiet curse, "Damn it, I should have hidden the guns better, shouldn't I?"
Jazz laughs softly, but it's a warm, affectionate laugh, "Well, yes, but you also shouldn't leave bloody bandages in the bathroom. And your helmet on the kitchen counter," she tells him, amusement lacing her voice, and Jason rubs his face with his free hand.
"Fuck," he mutters. And then, "Sorry."
Jazz waves her hand it the air, brushing his apology off, "Don't worry. I'm not in a place to blame you for having secrets, am I?" She muses, and, okay, fair. But before Jason can try to make her elaborate on the topic, she returns to her previous question, "So is it for a friend?"
The knife, right. Jason makes an annoyed face, scrunching his nose.
"Yeah. Bruce owes someone a favor, but he couldn't make it. Other stuff came up," he huffs. 'Other stuff' in question includes some off-world mission, so he really couldn't make it, but that doesn't make Jason any less mad about it.
"Let me guess, that 'someone' smells of cigarettes and liquor, has a British accent, and wears a trench coat," Jazz deadpans, and Jason stares at her with wide eyes.
"How- Are you sure you're not secretly a mind reader?" He asks. He knows for sure that Jazz doesn't have a meta-gene, but maybe she is a magic user? That would explain why and how she is even at the auction. Yet, the redhead laughs.
"No, sorry. Just met him a few times," she winces like she can smell the phantom smell of tobacco even when the mage is not here, "Can't say I like him, but asking someone to fetch him a Tecpatl seems like his style."
That only makes Jason even more inclined to believe his girlfriend is actually a magic user. But he doesn't get to ask because Jazz suddenly looks him in the face.
"Consider yourself in luck, by the way," she grins, "You won't have to steal it."
[part 2 ->]
1K notes · View notes
nightsmarish · 1 month
Text
Summary: James has always woken up early, but you and regulus always sleep late
Poly!starchaser x reader (James potter x reader x regulus black) | 674 words
Tw: a cat, James is shirtless, regulus and reader have a little anxiety maybe???, almost a full all-nighter
an: so sorry for no updates! I'm working on a few longer multichapter dc/mcu fics for my other account @nightinthemarsh. Also not a huge fan of this fic tbh
✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ
James' alarm is nearly silent due to his fear of waking the other two sleepers in the room. Or at least the other two people that should be asleep. 
James went to bed close to eight the night before, the earliest sleeper in the relationship, due to both being a professional quidditch player and waking up at five in the morning. Sitting up and putting on his glasses, it's painfully clear he's alone in the room, bed cold and plushies abandoned on the bed next to him. 
The skin between James’ brows crease in concern, slipping pajama pants and his pair of slippers by the left nightstand. Walking out of the bedroom, he notes that most of the lights are off, save for the light that emanates from the living room. 
James is nearly quiet as he enters the living room, standing at the bottom of the staircase, but the sight he sees warms his heart. While also causing some worry. 
Both you and Regulus are in nearly the exact same spots you were in when James went up to bed, save for the cat that now sits in your lap. A warm glow from two of the lamps allows the two of you to view the puzzle you started the day prior. 
The worry in James’ brows never leaves as he walks closer, putting effort into not startling the two of you. 
“I thought you guys said you’d be in bed by midnight?” Despite his efforts, both you and Regulus still startle just a bit as you both quickly turn to look at him. 
“We were hoping to finish the puzzle.” Regulus tells your shared boyfriend, as if that's the only logical thing to do. 
“And we almost have!” James takes his first good look at the puzzle (apart from when he saw it eight hours ago). It was a rather ambitious one, a little over three thousand pieces, but by now it looks close to completion. 
“But you really should have headed to bed hours ago.” he crouches down next to the coffee table you both are sitting at to be on your level. 
“After we finish the puzzle, right, amour?” 
“Of course.” 
James looks between the two of you as you return to the puzzle. Part of James feels rather greedy at the moment. Most times when he wakes up, both of you are dead to the world in your shared bed, so he doesn’t see his partners until mid-afternoon or whenever his practice ends.
But, he also knows that the two of you likely don’t get enough sleep as it is, and sometimes that truly concerns him. 
“What if we all head back to bed, I can wake back up in an hour or two, and later we can all work on it together.” James’ smile is undeniably warm and his hair is so bloody beautiful all tousled and frizzy, and he's shirtless, and it's so hot and both you and Regulus are extremely weak for this man. 
The look you and him share also shows that you both know James could never sit through this puzzle. But the idea of sleeping does sound rather nice. 
“Are you sure you are okay with waking up later?” you ask the question both you and Regulus are undoubtedly worried about. Not wanting to impose on James due to your own reckless sleeping habits. 
James is slightly distracted as he pets the cat on your lap, the tortoiseshell you lot had decided to get a few weeks ago. “Yeah, it’s fine; it's not a super busy day anyway.” 
Sometimes, when he looks up at you, it starts to make sense that his animagus is a stage, because he has the most stunning brown eyes. 
Half an hour later the puzzle lay abandoned on the coffee table, cat now laying at the end of the bed, with James two lovers passed out in bed. Even if this isn’t the way his usual mornings go, James couldn’t be happier this morning. 
490 notes · View notes
certaimromance · 1 month
Text
𝜗𝜚 You Says.
Post prison Reid x Reporter!reader
Read part one here!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: After a rough night and some misunderstandings, Spencer needs to do everything he can to make things right with you and get his relationship back on track. The problem is, things aren't so easy for you, and he's willing to do anything you ask, even take care of you when no one else will.
Words: 3,1k.
TW: mentions of crime and trauma (normal warnings in the serie. angst+comfort. the reader gets sick (nothing serious, just a normal cold). a little mention of spencer's past traumas. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: Ok, I didn't think of doing a second part before, but reading my own work made me so sad😭 the cat deserves happy parents (we are the cat) but I warn you that I do not believe in magic apologies.
As an interesting side note, both parts of this story are named after children's games. In this case, it's for "Simon Says," which I thought was pretty cool because in this part, Spencer literally does whatever the reader wants.
I also want to thank you for the support you gave to the first part and for the 300 followers💝 I could not say it before but it makes me very happy.
♡ Enjoy! ♡
Tumblr media
Spencer had been losing his mind since the last time he saw you in person, and it was all his fault. From the moment the door to his apartment closed behind you and the oven beeped, he began to feel the broken pieces of his heart that you had once held together unravel and shatter even more. He hated himself for letting his insecurities get in the way of the one good thing he had managed to have over the past few years, and for pushing you away when you didn't want to. You had been his exception among all the bad things that had happened in his life for as long as he could remember, the only one that didn't seem to want to be temporary and left him when he least expected it. And he himself had forced you out of his life, even when you didn't want to, begging him with tear-filled eyes for a little remorse that he didn't give you.
Just a few hours after the incident, he tried to go to work as if nothing had happened to clean up the mess the leak had made and put the killer in jail. He brought Penelope the promised cookies and your computer for her to examine because it felt right at the time. Part of him needed her to find real proof of your betrayal so he could stop feeling bad about making you cry and saying such ugly things to you.
Then he found out that you were telling the truth and that your computer contained nothing but photos of the two of you, all the articles he had ever written or been mentioned in your searches, and a few writings in which you poured out all your love for him in the cheesiest and most poetic way possible. You loved him, you really did, and there was no evidence to the contrary, because even Garcia could later assure him that the information had come anonymously and had been bought for five hundred dollars. But it was too late, because he had given you a conviction without even knowing it.
That's when he started to fixate on making amends for what he'd done. Every time you left work, bouquets of your favorite flowers with notes asking for forgiveness and wishing you a good night began to appear in your car. He also made a point of stopping by to talk to you and repeat how sorry he was. You knew this would happen when he realized his mistake. You had told him before you left, and that's why you refused to see him. It was good that the security guards at your workplace didn't let him in, even with his FBI credentials. The tricky part was your building because the doorman already knew him and let him in normally thanks to the excuses Spencer made up, even though you said a thousand times that he shouldn't have.
And that was happening again, for the fifth or sixth time in the last few days.
“Please, just let me talk to you and tell you how sorry I am. Listen to me for a moment.” You could hear Reid's voice from the other side of the door.
You didn't say anything. You just sat with your back against the door and one hand on your heart, as if you were trying to hold it. It didn't even cross your mind that he was in the same situation.
“Just a few minutes, please."
Once more, you remained silent.
Silence was the worst answer someone could give. You knew it, and it hurt to have to do it with him. But you had no choice because you knew that by looking into his eyes for just a few seconds, all the bad things would dissipate and maybe you would even forgive him without thinking just because of the love you had for him. You didn't like being this vulnerable and having so many feelings for someone who didn't trust you.
Lately, you've been spending every waking moment wondering what you could have done to make him believe that you were really capable of betraying him in such a cruel and selfish way. You were the one who woke up in the middle of the night to try to comfort him every time he had a nightmare or couldn't sleep. You drove to his apartment no matter what time it was to make sure he was okay. You lost your breath repeating that he was safe with you. You drank many cups of coffee the next day so you wouldn't fall asleep on the job every time the situation repeated itself. That's why you started sleeping in his apartment, wrapped in his arms because he said it made him happy to wake up and see you. And even with all that, Spencer was able to believe that you didn't love him.
You were running your hands through your hair and sighing, trying to block out all the thoughts running through your head, when you heard his phone ring. You could tell it was important by the way he spoke and changed his tone of voice, so you got up from the floor at the same time he did to put your ear to the door.
“I really have to go now, but could you open up a little bit so I can take a quick look at you?” He asked in a pleading tone after hanging up the call. “Please, I know you can hear me. I can see the shadow of your feet under the door.”
You really thought he didn't know you were there, feeling like a fool for listening to every word he said.
“If you want to see me, turn on the TV.” Your voice finally reached Spencer, and it gave him a glimmer of hope. It was the first time you had spoken to him since that night, and even though there was a door between the two of you, you were talking to him.
“It's not enough.”
“And it's not my problem.”
That was more hurtful than your silence.
“I know, it's mine.” He replied after a couple of seconds, trying to process everything. “And I will do everything I can to fix it...I have to go now, but take care of yourself. The nights have been getting colder lately, so wrap up warm.”
You knew it was a bit silly to think of that now, but his attention to detail was impressive. Since you did the evening news, you used to get off work very late, and the change from air conditioning to the city cold was quite a lot. Spencer had cited scientific studies to you many times to make you aware and know what kind of clothing materials to use to avoid a cold. You missed that a lot.
If he had the same attitude as the night of the conflict, it would be easier. You could hate him and stop loving him so strongly.
“I love you, William misses you and so do I.”
You frowned because you didn't know anyone by that name.
“William?”
“Our cat.” He answered simply. “When we talked about how we would name him, you said that a lot of people name their pets after their favorite characters. You love the movie ‘Notting Hill’ and whenever we watch it, you always say you like Hugh Grant's character named William. It also means strong-willed warrior. I just thought you would like it.”
You didn't say anything at the time because you had to cover your hand with your mouth to keep from doing so, but you liked it and you liked it too much. Once again, he focused on the details.
“You can change it if you want because I don't know if he likes it, but what I do know is that he misses you. He lies on your blanket and starts meowing, and he also looks at the door. I certainly think that every time I come home he expects it to be you.” He kept talking as he received no response from you. “It sounds like I'm talking about myself. And it's true because it happens to me the same way.”
When he paused, a tear escaped and fell down your cheek. It wasn't fair for him to say those things now.
“If you want to see him and me not being there, you can send me a message...but I'd really like to be.” He paused again, as if searching for the perfect words.
What did it cost him to have searched for the perfect words the night he distrusted you?
“I must go, I love you.”
The last thing you heard before he left was Spencer's footsteps heading towards the elevator.
Just two weeks later, you realized that maybe you should have listened to Spencer when he said the nights were getting too cold. If you had, now you probably wouldn't be lying on your bed with an unbearable flu and no one there to bring you soup or a cold washcloth for your forehead because your mother was taking too long to get to city.
When you were younger, you thought it was a great idea to get as far away from your hometown as possible. Now, however, you realize that you need a familiar face to take care of you because you can't do it alone all the time.
You felt a sense of relief when you heard the door to your apartment open.
“Mom? I'm really hungry and the soup is all gone.” You spoke in a tired tone as you heard footsteps approaching. But at that moment, you watched as the cat you shared with Reid jumped onto the bed and started purring at you.
You thought you were hallucinating from the fever until you saw Spencer walking into your room with a couple of bags.
“I know you were expecting your mother, but we brought you soup and medicine.” He said, sitting up in bed to look closely at you and put a hand on your forehead. “You're burning up.”
“What are you doing here?” You asked, trying to pull away from his touch.
“Your mother called me because she couldn't find a flight today and was very worried. She asked me to take care of you.”
Of course she did, because she adored him and didn't know that things were bad between you two.
“I don't need you to take care of me.” You barely settled into bed and petted the cat. “Go to work, make sure no one leaks information.”
Oh, that was a low blow for him.
“I asked for a few days off because you have a high fever and someone needs to take care of you.”
“You don't have to...”
“I want to.” He said, interrupting you and putting a cold cloth on your forehead.
“Just because you're looking out for me doesn't mean I'm going to forget everything and forgive you.” You clarified right away, trying not to lose focus because of the relief you felt thanks to the cold compress.
“I know, and I don't expect you to. Just let me take care of you now, forget you hate me until you get better. I won't take advantage of this, I swear.” He looked at you with a serious gaze, as if he were swearing an oath. “Please.”
God, not puppy dog eyes now.
You used to love it when he looked at you with those sparkling eyes. Now, though, you felt manipulated by it.
“Fine, give me the soup.” You finally agreed, knowing you didn't have much of a choice. “Just a warning, please don't answer any calls near me. I can listen in and use the information to hire a nurse.”
He ignored the comment and didn't bring it up to make you uncomfortable. He sat on the edge of the bed, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His touch was light, and his eyes searched yours as he spoke.
“Is there anything else besides soup I can bring you? More tissues, or maybe some medicine?” He asked in a soft, soothing voice.
You shook your head, still a bit dazed by the situation and your stomach rumbling. You watched as Spencer disappeared into the kitchen, and you could hear his footsteps echoing throughout the house, followed by the clatter of pots and pans and the sound of the stove being turned on. You could only lie back on your bed, feeling a wave of tiredness wash over you.
A few minutes later, he came back with a bowl of chicken noodle soup and sat down next to you on the bed, being careful not to spill anything.
“Are you planning to feed me soup?” You asked, with a hint of irony in your voice, as you watched me hold the spoon and watch you.
“If you wish, I'll be happy to.” He replied simply and brought the spoon gently to your mouth.
“I'm not a baby.”
Especially not his baby.
“You hate me, I know. But I really want to take care of you, and I won't leave until at least your mother arrives.” He paused for a second, as if to catch his breath. “If you don't want me around, that's okay, I'll just sit in the corner of the room or in the living room in silence. It hurts, but I'll take whatever you want.”
You remained silent for several seconds, dedicating yourself to stroking the cat to avoid Spencer's gaze.
“I don't hate you.” Was the only thing you could say at the time.
Something inside you was expecting a more exaggerated reaction for letting your guard down a bit, or maybe you were just too feverish. The thing was, he had only given you a small, almost non-existent smile.
“I know.” He finally spoke and gently adjusted the cold compress on your forehead. “And that's why I hate myself.”
At that moment, while you were trying to make sense of how things had changed so much in just a week, he was watching you.
Spencer was waiting for you to explode, to tell him how sorry you were for getting involved with him and his complicated world, that it was all one big mistake that you would regret forever. He was expecting disaster, pain, tears, and a lot of chaos.
But you didn't give him any of that.
Just a sweet nothing.
He could tell at that moment that even though you were in a feverish state and had many reasons to be cruel, you would not be. He realized that you would never yell at him or do anything to hurt him, that the most painful thing you could give him was your silence. And it was then that he confirmed that you loved him the way he thought he did not deserve to be loved: honestly and genuinely.
“Why?” You whispered after a few minutes of silence. “Why are you with me if you don't trust me?”
“I trust you.” He looked you straight in the eye as he spoke, trying to show that he was being completely sincere. “I just don't trust myself.”
You frowned and let out a groan from the discomfort in your forehead. You weren't sure if you were hallucinating because of the cold or if Spencer was really shivering.
“I don't think I'm good enough for you, or deserve you, or that you love me because you want to.” He finally admitted, his voice slightly shaky. He seemed to be in a worse state than you. “It's silly because you've never given me a reason to distrust you.”
“I know you thought I was going to leave. But I didn't want to leave until you asked me to.” You were close to crying, so you pretended to sneeze to hide your watery eyes. You didn't want to show how vulnerable you were. “It was easier to distrust me and blame me like I was just another bad person you catch.”
“Yes, but...” He replied, trying to answer your question.
“Don't talk. It's my turn.”
He nodded after a few seconds, watching you with concern. “Just be careful, you're still sick.”
You already knew how sick you were and how deplorable you probably looked, but you wanted to say it all and stop feeling a lump in your throat.
“You say you trust me, but you really don't, and I've been trying to understand you for almost a year, Spencer. It's been eleven months of trying not to invade your space, avoiding topics that make you tense or your eyes glaze over.” You had to stop to catch your breath and drink some water with his help. “And you think I don't understand you or really know you, but I do. I know how all your dishes are arranged, I know how you like to fold clothes and eat toast, I know that chess reminds you of someone because your eyes get watery every time we see a board, I know about the book signed by Maeve that you hide in your closet and about which you tense up every time I'm near, I know about your nightmares about prison that you don't like to talk about, and about your mother's favorite colors that change every day. I know so much about you, and yet you think I know nothing.”
Once more, there was a long, quiet pause.
“I'm so sorry.” He held your hands as he repeated the same thing, this time with a truly sincere tone. The whole room was still tense as his knees touched the floor, and the apology he gave you seemed like a plea. “I'm really sorry. I know you don't want apologies, you want trust, and I'm going to show you that.”
You didn't say anything as he sat down next to you on the bed.
“I trust you, that's why I always tell you about my cases. And I will tell you about all my past, if you want, because for me you are my present and my future...of course, only if you still want to.”
The eyes of both of you were fixed on the cat you shared, who was purring and lying very comfortably in the middle of the bed. It was nice to know that at least one of the three of you was happy.
“Tell me.”
And just as you asked, he told you everything because he wanted to show you that he trusted you.
This time he really trusted.
704 notes · View notes
marvelstan0905 · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
"Hello"
Kenji Sato X Interviewer!Readers [afab] (Oneshot)
Strangers to Lovers AU!
TW : flirting/crude comments/ fluffy/ blushing/petnames/persistence/skepticism/stuttering
©all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.
Another interview. Kenji was getting sick of them. They're a waste of time and he's already answered these questions five thousand times. This interview he couldn't pass up, his manager was quite strict about it. Kenji just finished putting Emi to sleep which meant he had three hours for this dumb interview and hopefully he could spare a nap. Kenji was quick to ride to the location of his interview, considering he was 30 minutes late.
Kenji ran into the private room of the restaurant where he'd be having his interview, he stepped in and his whole world froze. Those dazzling eyes..those plum lips..the contours of her face. The glow of her soft skin, the contours of her beautiful, earth shaking figure. Her scent, even from where he stood, Kenji could smell the sweet decadent scent that surrounded her body. She was gorgeous. Kenji didn't believe in love at first sight but God..she was perfect. From head to toe. The man hadn't even spoken to her yet.
"Hello" Kenji cleared his throat with a hint of flirtation in his tone. I rose a brow and looked at my watch. I sighed and gestured for him to sit. I really needed the interview pay.
"You're late, Mr Sato but let's graze over that,hmm?" I smiled a small smile. Kenji sat down. I slid over a menu and I sipped on my virgin cocktail. "Are you ready to begin?"
Kenji didn't even notice he was staring at this woman for so long, he was practically a deer in headlights. I waved my hand in front of his face. "Are you okay, Mr Sato?"
"Y-Yeah..I'm sorry..please continue!" Kenji said a little startled as he looked to his menu and pushed up his sunglasses. I blinked and tilted my head.
"OK..are you sure you wanna wear sunglasses indoors?" I asked confused whiles looking at him. Kenji nodded and cleared his throat. I shrugged considering this is the Ken Sato were talking about. He does whatever he wants. "OK. Let's start. Can I have your consent to record and publish this interview later?"
"Yeah,yeah, sure" Kenji nodded dismissively. We quickly ordered our food before I started my recorder.
"Great..so Mr Sato-"
"Ken. You can call me Ken. Mr Sato is too formal." Kenji cut me off and smirked smugly. I nodded a little flustered but this should be expected.
"Okay uhmm...Ken. Is there a reason you left America and came back to Japan?" I asked. The interview was pretty mainstream and tedious from there. We finished up quicker than I thought. Kenji was pretty straightforward with his answers. We continued eating from there considering neither of us wanted to leave and waste food.
"So..um..off the record..how..how are you?" Kenji asked with a light pink dusting his cheeks. I stopped eating and raised a brow.
"I'm o-okay..how are you?" I say..unsure of where the hell this was going. Kenji removed his glasses and looked at me. I was confused by the look he gave me. Consider me dense and blind or am I seeing..interest and desire in his eyes?
"I'm good. So I never properly got your name, you know?" Kenji started eating his Ramen. I blinked in confusion.
"Y/N L/N." I answered skeptically. We just had an interview and the whole time he didn't know my name. That is..wow..and ouch.
"Nice to meet you..I'm Ken Sato" Kenji smiled offered his hand. I hesitantly shook his head and tilted my head.
"I'm sorry. Did we not just have a whole interview just now? I'm sure I know your name" I blinked in confusion with all these introductions.
"Yeah but it's kinda like a fresh start, kinda..we're off the record right?" Kenji smirked and cooked his head to the side whiles taking a long, tantalizing sip of his whiskey.
"I guess, you could say so. So what are your intentions,hmm?" I questioned skeptically as I propped my elbow on the table and laid my hand on my palm. "What's this all about?"
"I can't simply want to have conversation with a beautiful woman? I'm a little offended." Kenji mocked a dramatic gasp as he placed a hand on his chest. I blushed at the compliment and turned away
"I..I never said that..I'm just a little skeptical.." I shrugged flustered. Kenji leaned in slightly.
"You know..if you let me I can make you even more flustered." Kenji whispered suggestively whiles keeping hard eye contact. A smug, seductive smirk painted his lips."I want you and when I want something I get it...how about a date?"
My breath hitched and I blinked a few times in complete confusion. I thought about it..I mean I'm lonely, single and God this man was FINE..but then again his reputation and ego are far too douche bag like for me..it could be a front though..if I turn the other cheek, he's kinda my type.
"So? A date? Dinner..maybe we can catch a movie and a late night stroll? Yes?" Kenji suggested being quite persistent.
"Before I give you my response...are you playing some game? Or is this a dare or prank? Like I'll just be another girl to fall for your charms and then when you win you'll leave?" I rambled worried and skeptical. Kenji's smug look fell and it was replaced with sincerity.
"N-No..I-Im being really genuine. I promise! I-I know I don't exactly have the most humble reputation..but uh if you get to know the real me..you know, Kenji Sato. I promise you won't regret it" Kenji, spoke softly and sincerely almost pleading. I looked at him with widened eyes. I chewed on my lips and observed him skeptically. I sighed at the 'kicked puppy look' he gave me.
"Fine..fine. I'll go on a date with you." I sighed with a sheepish smile. Kenji smiled in triumph and grabbed a hold of my left hand giving my knuckles, a soft but firm kiss. I flushed once again as he was so quick to show affection.
"You WON'T regret it..God I promise I'll treat you like a queen. You won't know what hit you. I swear it." Kenji promised sternly. I blinked slowly in shock by his forwardness but it was refreshing from his arrogant persona. I nodded.
"O-Okay. You seem pretty determined, huh?"
"Yeah I am. I want you. I will make you mine. You're the finest specimen I've seen on this Earth. I'll move mountains to win you. I promise-no, I ultra promise"
680 notes · View notes
ham1lton · 4 months
Text
WELCOME TO MIAMI
pairings: (platonic) oscar piastri x reader.
summary: after the miami grand prix, you and some of your fellow drivers go out for karaoke and drinks for ‘bonding’ according to a certain lando norris.
warnings: mentions of alcohol and strip clubs. also you pretend to be oscar’s wife and there is mentions of alleged infidelity but it’s obviously fake.
author’s note: this is slightly long but i promise you it’s worth the read. this is my apology for being inactive due to uni so let me know if you enjoyed! also i made the meme at the end and i’m proud of myself so cheer me on :D
— part of the maneater series ꕤ.
“i’m just not in the mood lando.” you throw yourself onto your very comfortable hotel bed. the sheets were soft and pillowy, are these thousand thread sheets? you don’t know what they were but they sound fancy. you flip yourself onto your back. “karaoke sounds awful right now. i need to be alone to drown my sorrows.”
“don’t be so dramatic y/n.” you can practically hear george’s eyeroll through the phone. he’s snatched lando’s phone for himself now. “this’ll be good for you.”
“i lost embarrassingly to max, it was the worst race of my entire career! i don’t deserve to celebrate or have fun.”
“you got p4.” george’s voice is deadpan. “get out of your hotel room, stop wallowing and i’ll get logan to pick you up.”
“why me?” logan asks in the background. “get an uber maneater!”
“she won’t come if no one forces her!” he’s right, you think bitterly. you would have ignored the uber even if the driver came up to your hotel room door and knocked five times. even if he opened the door and threw a bucket of cold water on your head and then threatened oscar’s life.
you knew why logan had to be the one to pick you up. it couldn’t be george. he’s annoyed you recently. he beat you to getting the podium today. it couldn’t be lando because he’s supporting george’s antics of dragging you out. it couldn’t be alex because he didn’t text his girlfriend to ask her about where she got her cute t-shirt that she wore on his recent instagram dump. you really liked that t-shirt. “logan is on his way. we’re giving you thirty minutes and if you’re not outside, i’m calling sebastian.”
“NO!”
“YES!” before you can try and rebuttal his statement, he’s hung up on you. well, there is no way you’re going out so george russell and his clique can shove that up their asses. you open netflix, and get yourself ready for a quiet night in.
Tumblr media
one hour later, you found yourself at the karaoke bar that the guys had rented out for the night. logan running up to you, swinging the car’s rental keys around his fingers.
“i want you to know,” you breathed out, giving him the side-eye. “i hate this. i truly do.”
“i know.” logan nodded.
“i hate you.”
“know that too.” logan nodded again. “which isn’t fair really. this isn’t my fault.”
“fine. i hate you and all of them.” you gestured at the karaoke bar where lando had already gotten a few shots in his system and was belting out a britney song. “god. this is a bastardisation of a classic.”
“you know lando.” logan shrugged, opening the door for you. “after you.”
“since when were you a gentleman?”
“since i was about 76% sure that if you didn’t go before me, you’d order an uber and go straight back to the hotel.”
“i was thinking that.”
george is already slightly drunk when he spots you, opening his arms wide at your entrance. alex is sipping on a bottle of imported beer. very pretentious.
“maneater!” george grins. “the party don’t start till she walks in!”
oscar looks like he’s already regretting this. oscar and you had been best friends ever since you realised you both had a low tolerance for bullshit. you roll your eyes at george who pretends to pout but uses it as an excuse to order more shots.
“did they drag you out too?” oscar nods, like every movement pains him. “you want something to drink?”
“no. i’m hungry.”
“i think the only place open right now besides here is a strip club.”
“they have food?”
“let’s google.” after a few searches on your phone you find out the strip club has a menu. “apparently they serve chicken wings and fries.”
“let’s go.”
“wait!” you grab oscar’s arm. “you can’t go to a strip club! think about the optics or something. the media will spin it like ‘crazy f1 sex-addicted rookie’. is that what you want your legacy to be?”
“i won’t have a legacy if i starve to death.” oscar rolls his eyes. then he turns to logan. “throw me your rental keys logan, maneater and i are going to the drive-thru.”
“no.” george says sternly. as sternly as one can be while slightly drunk and a shirt that loses a button every ten minutes. how was it looser than it was two seconds ago? “you can’t leave. if you leave, you won’t come back.”
“okay?” oscar raised an eyebrow. “we’re grown george. you can’t keep us here.”
“one song and you can go.”
“that’s ridiculous.”
“one song. that’s all i’m asking.” george raises his hands. “then you can leave. unless, you’re too chicken.”
“i’m very much chicken. bye.” oscar gets up to leave before you stop him.
“c’mon. one song isn’t a bad compromise and we’re already here.” you shrug. “might as well.”
“you can do it. i’ll watch.” you stick your tongue out at oscar’s reluctance.
“lando, will you do it with me?”
“sure as long as i’m choosing the song!” lando grins as oscar gives you both the side eye. you weren’t much of an adrenaline junkie off the track and in private, you were very different to the maneater persona you would show in public. lando chooses nelly furtado’s ‘promiscuous’ but he sings her parts and you sing timbaland’s. you kill it, if you do say so yourself.
as soon as you’re done, oscar holds up the keys to the rental that logan had brought you in and you follow him out on your search for dinner. as you and oscar make your way to the car, you realise that the only place open for food at this hour is, unfortunately, that strip club down the street.
"you're kidding, right?" oscar gives you a disbelieving look.
you shrug. "hey, they serve food and you’re hungry. desperate times call for desperate measures."
with a reluctant sigh, oscar unlocks the car and you both climb in. you arrive at the strip club, the neon lights flashing in the night. as you enter, you can't help but feel a little out of place amidst the scantily clad dancers and dimly lit atmosphere.
“we're not staying for the show," you say firmly to oscar as you approach the bar.
"i wasn’t trying to," oscar looks around warily.
the smell of greasy food wafts over from the corner where a small kitchen is tucked away.
"we're really doing this," you mutter to oscar as you make your way to the bar.
"yep," he replies, already scanning the menu for chicken wings.
before you can order, a vivacious stripper saunters over, batting her eyelashes at oscar. "hey there, handsome. looking for some company?"
oscar looks taken aback for a moment before he quickly recovers. "uh, actually, we’re just here for the food. we heard you do… food?"
the stripper arches an eyebrow skeptically. "sure you are hun. what's your story, then?"
you jump in, trying to come up with a believable excuse. "we’re... celebrating our anniversary! yeah, that’s it. we wanted to do something wild, and crazy and spontaneous."
oscar nods, playing along. "exactly. seven years together, can you believe it?"
“you look so young.”
“she keeps me young.” oscar winks and then immediately regrets it. he turns slightly pink.
the stripper eyes you both suspiciously. "hmm, anniversary, huh? and you're at a strip club?"
you nod enthusiastically. "yep! we’re... adventurous like that."
the stripper shakes her head, clearly not buying it. "uh-huh."
you turn to oscar, a mischievous glint in your eye before turning and pouting at the stripper. "he cheated on me, you know."
oscar’s eyes widen in confusion. "wait, what?"
you nod solemnly. "yeah, with my yoga instructor. can you believe it? i guess that’s what happens when you let another girl bend your man over.”
the stripper scoffs, shaking her head. "honey, now why would you take a cheater to a strip club? that's like taking a carnivore to the butchers.”
oscar jumps in, eager to exonerate his fake persona. "actually, she cheated on me too!"
the stripper raises an eyebrow. "oh, really?"
"yeah, with my dentist," oscar deadpans. “imagine how i felt… lying on the chair getting my tooth drilled into while my wife was at home getting a different hole drilled.”
“well, you cheated with the milkman!”
“he gave me something you never could.” oscar sniffs.
“milk?”
“no. love.”
“i’ll get that order started for you.” she gives you both the side-eye. “i’ll leave you two lovebirds with your marriage issues. you need anything else give one of us a shout.”
you and oscar turn to each other and laugh.
“DENTIST?” you giggle. “couldn’t you have picked a sexier profession for me to cheat on you with?”
oscar chuckles, shaking his head. "hey, a cheating dentist is funny."
“fair point. but a milkman? really?"
"i had to think fast!" oscar defends himself. "i didn’t get time to prepare."
"true," you agree, wiping away tears of laughter. "i just hope our story doesn't end up in the tabloids."
oscar shrugs. "eh, if it does, at least it'll be entertaining."
you both continue to joke and laugh as you wait for your food.
"who knew a trip to a strip club could be so much fun?" you smile as you eat. the food was good at least.
oscar grins back. "only with you, y/n. only with you."
Tumblr media
afterwards, you go back to meet with logan, lando, alex and george at the karaoke spot. george is singing a dramatic duet with alex to the tune of lady gaga and beyoncé’s ‘telephone’. lando is grinning while filming and logan is just staring, like he’s watching a car crash. too grotesque to look at but too insane to look away.
george spots you and points dramatically, motioning for you to join them. you exchange a look with oscar, both of you knowing that you can't resist the call of the karaoke stage.
as you approach the group, you can't help but notice the absence of one key ingredient: a one direction song.
"hey guys," you say, catching their attention. "this is fun and all, but i think it's time we mix things up a bit."
george raises an eyebrow. "oh yeah? and what did you have in mind?"
"a one direction song," you declare with a grin. “in front of everyone.”
the boys exchange skeptical glances, clearly not convinced.
"we can't do that," logan protests. "it's too... cheesy."
"come on, logan," you coax, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. "you owe me for dragging me here."
“that wasn’t even my decision!” logan sighs, knowing he's been cornered. "but i’ll do it, only if oscar does it too."
you turn to oscar, who looks less than thrilled at the prospect. "come on, oscar. remember that time you forgot my birthday?"
“i was in hospital! i had a reason!”
“still forgot it!”
oscar groans. "fine, i’ll do it. but this better not end up on the internet."
you turn to george and alex, who are watching the exchange with amusement. "you guys in?"
george grins. "i'm always up for a challenge."
alex nods in agreement. "sure, why not? carpe diem and all that.”
lando, of course, is already on board. "let's do it! who’s who?”
“i’ve already thought about it. here me out.” you start. “lando is harry, curly haired and british.”
lando fist-bumps you.
“alex is zayn.”
alex rolls his eyes. “because i’m an asian brit too?”
“okay i didn’t think about that but it kind of fits.” you think. “i meant it because zayn’s obviously the best.”
alex grins, obviously pleased with the flattery. george stares at you, impatiently tapping his foot.
“hurry it up y/n. who am i?”
“liam.” george thinks about it for a moment and then shrugs. “he’s the leader of the group and you created our groupchat and this meetup.”
“i can deal with that.”
“oscar is louis because he has the least amount of lines and i thought he’d appreciate that.” oscar smiles. “logan is niall because… blond.”
“how come they all got actual thought put in to theirs and i’m niall because i’m blond?” logan raises an eyebrow.
“blond was the best i could do on short-notice.” you shrug. “but hey, he’s irish! who doesn’t love the irish?”
“fair point.”
you move over to the machine and start to play ‘kiss you’ by one direction. as the familiar beats fill the karaoke bar, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement. this is going to be epic, whether oscar likes it or not.
oscar, looking less than thrilled, reluctantly takes his place on stage, shooting you a glare that says, "you owe me big time for this."
logan, standing awkwardly beside him, shifts uncomfortably, clearly not used to being the center of attention. you give him an encouraging smile, silently urging him to embrace the moment. you’re only a f1 driver/one direction cosplayer once, right?
lando, fully embracing his role as harry, struts to the front of the stage, oozing charisma and charm. alex, begrudgingly accepting his role as zayn, follows suit, trying his best to channel the brooding bad boy persona.
george, ever the showman, takes center stage as liam, belting out the lyrics with gusto. despite his initial reluctance, even oscar starts to get into the groove.
as for logan, well, he may not be the most enthusiastic performer, but he's giving it his all, his awkwardness somehow adding to the charm of the performance.
you, meanwhile, stand off to the side, phone in hand, filming the entire spectacle. this is going straight to your social media, no doubt about it.
as the song reaches its climax, the entire group comes together in perfect harmony, their voices blending seamlessly as they sing their hearts out. it may not be the most polished performance, but it's definitely one for the books. as the final notes fade away, the bar erupts into cheers and applause, and you can't help but feel a sense of joy as your friends amble off the stage and you all head out into the cool night.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by bestie1, logan.priv and 32 others.
maneater.priv: shoutout miami for having so many foreign babes 😋
view 34 comments.
bestie1: who are the foreign babes you speak of? i just see a bunch of white dudes and alex.
-> maneater.priv: um actually we have many 🤨 lando and george r british, alex is thai and british and oscar is aussie 😋 in america, they all foreign and logan may not be foreign but he’s a babe.
-> logan.priv: nicest y/n comment. possibly the y/n comment of all time actually.
oscar.priv: delete the last slide.
alex.priv: lily said she’s gonna text you the link to that shirt you liked.
-> maneater.priv: i knew i liked you for a reason.
oscar.priv: i know you see these (your full government name). DELETE.
lando.priv: how did you go to a strip club with oscar before me??
-> maneater.priv: me, u and vegas. we’ll go crazy.
-> lando.priv: YIPPEEE 😁😁
oscar.priv: blocking you btw.
george.priv: told u that you’d have fun!!!
-> maneater.priv: sorry i can’t agree with a man. ruins my street cred.
-> george.priv: what street cred?
-> maneater.priv: DELETE!!!!
-> oscar.priv: speaking of things that need to be deleted… delete the last slide 🙄
-> maneater.priv: no :D
oscar.priv: how would u feel if i shipped u with another driver?
-> maneater.priv: that depends… is he a hot one?
-> oscar.priv: no.
-> lando.priv: 😔
-> george.priv: stop being mean to lando oscar.priv.
-> oscar.priv: he deserves it.
-> george.priv: 213.40.205.53
-> oscar.priv: i hate it here.
559 notes · View notes
lisenberry · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Fluffy fluff.
CW: Pregnancy and child birth, language
Ch.2, Ch.3
You knew this day would come. Your due date wasn’t until the following week, but as of your last check-up, the midwife didn’t think you would make it that long.
But you were still surprised, and fought a rising panic, when you woke up around dawn to your first set of contractions. They weren’t terrible, at first, and you tried to remain calm as you showered, dressed in the comfortable outfit you’d set aside and checked your hospital bag for the thousandth time since you’d packed it weeks ago.
You’d read all of the books and watched all of the videos. It was a long process, and there was no rush to get to the hospital at this stage. It could be hours, days even before anything happened.
You were completely prepared and in control.
Until you stepped out into your hallway and straight into the wall of heat and muscle that was your neighbor.
“Oh, hi, John. I didn’t know you were back.” It’d been over a year since he’d left.
Why on earth he kept such an expensive apartment when he hardly ever lived in it, you couldn’t understand. He’d lived across the hall for five years, and had spent less than six months total sleeping in his bed.
And every so often, when it worked out, in yours.
“I got in late last night.” He paused, brows drawn together as he took in your obvious condition. “I was just heading to the gym.”
Jesus, he looked so good. Even in track shorts and a hooded sweatshirt. It pulled tightly across his chest as he rocked back on his heels. No doubt doing the quick math as to whether or not he could be responsible.
“I’m headed to have a baby,” you huffed out, as a sudden rush of spasming pain in your back nearly keeled you over.
That was a new feeling. It felt urgent. Shit, maybe you should’ve left sooner.
“Right now?” He lunged to grab your bags from your arms as you leaned against the wall for support.
“Not yours, don’t worry.” You laughed up at him, in an attempt to lighten the awkwardness of the exchange.
“Can I call someone for you?”
“I called a cab. It’s on its way.” The pressure started to ebb as you chanced a few steps towards the stairs.
“A cab? Absolutely not, I’ll drive you.”
“No, please. It’s fine. I have a plan. It’s all going to plan.”
But he’d taken possession of your hospital bag and your diaper bag, and had them loaded into the boot of his truck before you could protest.
“Is your boy—the father meeting you there?” Once he’d hoisted you into the passenger seat, and started the engine, he finally asked the question that had been left hanging between you.
“He’s not in the picture.”
Never was, you didn’t add. After you’d convinced yourself it would never work out between you and John, you'd had a brief fling with a visiting colleague from Berlin.
Imagine your surprise when you found out you were pregnant a month after he’d finished the project and gone home. To his wife, you found out later.
“You’re doing this alone?”
“It’s going to be fine. I told you, I have a plan.”
**********
“You don’t have to stay, really. I can do this on my own.” The contractions had become so intense, you couldn't control your voice enough to sound convincing.
His sympathetic smile as he finished filling out your intake paperwork was purely to placate. He had no intention of leaving. And you were grateful for his help.
The fact that he knew so much about you to only need to ask a few questions when completing the never-ending forms should’ve been alarming, not comforting.
Your blood type? Had you ever told him that?
“Aren’t you preregistered? How many times have you had to give them the same information?” He drew his eyebrows together in frustration as he realized the next packet was double sided.
“A fucking thousand.” You focused on your breathing and fought the waves of nausea that seemed to get worse along with the pain.
Weren’t there supposed to be breaks? You were told there would be breaks. You barely got a second to unclench your fists before another one started again.
You stood too quickly and steadied yourself with a hand to his shoulder.
“Where are you going?” Concerned, he stood with you.
“I’m going to be sick.” You rushed, or rather waddled at your fastest pace, to the nearby family restroom and he trailed along close behind.
He stopped momentarily at the triage desk to slap the clipboard down and boom something about needing a room immediately, before following you in and holding your hair back as you wretched into the toilet.
“Shhh, I’ve got you.” He soothed, as he rubbed your back and passed you a wad of tissue.
“Please don’t leave me,” you croaked out, tears flowing at your helplessness and the sudden realization that this was only the beginning. That your life would never be the same.
“Careful what you wish for, darling.”
Once you were admitted to a room and set up with effective pain management, you finally relaxed enough to get your wits about you. And that involved, in no small part, frequently reminding the staff that, no, John was not your husband. He wasn’t even the father.
He wasn’t nearly as dedicated to correcting them as you were.
Things seemed to happen quickly, although you’d find out later that you labored well into the night, with a tireless, supporting hand held firmly in yours.
“You did so good, love.” When it was all over, he wiped a sweaty, wayward lock of hair from your cheek and planted a kiss on the top of your head. Seemingly as relieved as you were. As if he’d been holding his breath along side you.
You missed the look the nurse gave you as she placed the squirming infant on your chest, nor did you hear her mutter under her breath, “Not the father, my ass.”
“Welcome to the world, sweetheart,” you cooed, the pain quickly forgotten as you felt a tremendous sense of peace. Clarity.
“And welcome home, John.”
523 notes · View notes
skyahri · 3 days
Text
Unplanned |Naruto Men X Reader| HC
Tumblr media
Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Shikamaru Nara, and Kakashi Hatake
Summary: Pregnancy scenarios 'cause I can.
Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy. Bad words. All fluff.
- - - - -
Sasuke Uchiha
He isn't the kind of guy to outwardly dote on you.
He's never been good with words or physical touch, more so preferring quality time together. You sleep in the same bed, eat meals together when it's convenient, and lounge around together when time allows.
When you come home from a last minute doctor's appointment with some big news, none of that really changes.
He assures you that he's happy, that he loves you, and this is all wonderful, but that's about all you're going to get out the emotionally constipated man.
However, while words may not be his strong suit, actions certainly are.
It's become painfully obvious that you are never allowed to go anywhere alone ever again.
He's like a shadow, following you everywhere and anywhere you decide to go. It doesn't matter that you're just running to the market- he's coming with. Ino invited the girls over for a dinner party? Cool, he'll walk you there, hang around in the shadows outside, then walk you home.
When questioned, Sasuke only says that he doesn't trust other people. Already knowing how he is, you don't push him any further. (Not that he'd entertain you if you did.)
People notice pretty quickly. He's not subtle and it's not exactly common for the Uchiha to be so openly clingy.
You wanted to keep the pregnancy a secret for a little while longer. You knew that his status would make the whole thing bigger than you'd like and it was still so early, only about eight weeks in. But people were becoming more and more insistent with their questions.
"Seriously, did something happen? He's been watching you like a Hawk for the past month."
"It was cute at first, but now it's straight up creepy."
Sakura and Ino dramatically shiver at the notion. You laugh, imagining how unsettling this all must look from the outside.
"It's fine, I promise. He's just been a little overprotective since he found out I was pregnant."
They don't register it at first. They just nod in understanding and move to sip their tea. You can almost see it click in their heads before they slam down their cups and start freaking out.
"Wait, WHAT?"
Naruto Uzumaki
"Congratulations! Based on the ultrasound, I'd say you're about five weeks along. It's still early, but you can see a tiny sac right here-"
Your mind is going a thousand miles a minute, thinking of everything and nothing as the doctor points out the tiny, centimeter-long blob in the picture.
Naruto had been bugging you for the past three weeks about a smell. He swears it's nothing bad, just that Kurama is insisting that your scent has changed and- blah, blah, blah. You never could get any more information out of him, which just left you to eventually cave and visit the doctor. Animals have instincts for a reason and who were you to ignore them?
Turns out, that damn fox was right.
After a half-hour lecture on what you can and can't do anymore, you were handed a goodie bag of essentials and sent on your way.
You barely remember the walk home. Your mind was completely blank as it tried to process the news. It wasn't until Naruto was standing in front of you in the doorway to your home that you finally snapped out of the trance.
You stared up at him. His eyebrows were knit together and he was asking if everything was alright. He pulled everything out of your hands and not-so-gently set them on the floor.
"I'm pregnant."
His eyes blew wide and not even a second later he was smiling, pulling you into him and spinning you around. It's over just as quickly as it started. He's setting you back down on your feet and looking you over, mumbling a few hollow apologies for manhandling you. He takes a deep breath, that lopsided grin on his face never leaving.
"You're pregnant."
Just those two words have all the fog clearing from your head. Reality is forced onto you in an instant. In any other situation, it might have made you dizzy, but right now you couldn't be happier.
"I'm pregnant."
Shikamaru Nara
He really should've seen this coming.
Honestly, with how careless he is with protection, it's a wonder how you hadn't gotten pregnant sooner. A year and some change of not bothering with condoms and lazy, half-assed pullouts had finally come to bite him in the ass.
Although he knows this is all going to be horrifically bothersome, he can't find it in himself to be all that bothered. No, not when you're standing in front of him so nervously, little tears gathering on your waterline as you hold out a slip of paper for him to take.
He pulls you into a hug- a very tight, very intimate hug. One of his hands is on your lower back, pressing you into him, and the other is in your hair to cup the back of your head. He can feel the stress start to melt from your body as you relax into him, your arms moving to loosely hold him back.
"I'm sorry. I know this wasn't exactly planned..."
It definitely wasn't planned. He didn't like to think about things too hard. The only talk about the future he'd engaged in was a brief confirmation that you were both interested in pursuing each other exclusively and that neither were against marriage and kids.
But even though this was sudden and unprompted and definitely not what he was expecting when you asked to talk with him privately, he just couldn't find it in himself to be anything other than pleased. Sure, he would've liked to wait a few years and it preferably be after he'd properly proposed and married you, but none of that is deterring him.
He loved you. He didn't say it as often as he probably should, but that didn't make it any less true. You were easygoing and passive and fit into his life with no resistance. His friends liked you, possibly more than they did him. You liked to cook and he never had to worry about you causing trouble.
This was fine.
Not troublesome in the least.
"No, this is... good."
Kakashi Hatake
He was positive he was sterile. He'd have to be after all the injuries and trauma he's sustained, right? Four years and not a single scare, yet here you were, apparently three months pregnant, handing him a report from the OB's office.
He couldn't even form a sentence. He just sighed and sat back onto the couch with his eyes closed. It's only eight in the morning, it's too early for this, not that there'd ever be a great time.
"I knew you weren't going to be thrilled, but now I'm starting to get nervous. Can you please say something?"
He held his arm up and gestured for you to come towards him. When he could feel you brush against him, he grabbed your wrist and carefully yanked you onto his lap. You let out a relieved, albeit hesitant, chuckle as he slowly wrapped himself around you, his head finding solace in the crook of your neck.
The two of you stayed like that for a little while until he let out the loudest, most dramatic groan you'd ever heard leave his mouth, followed by a mumbled 'are you sure?', to which you rolled your eyes.
"Yes, I'm sure. Here, you can see for yourself."
You unfold the paper and pulled out a few pictures. He shifts you around so you're at a better angle before he takes them into his hands. It's obvious that he has no idea what he's looking at- just that the blob is already baby-shaped and very, very intimidating.
You point out some of the obvious things, the head and feet and such, before moving down to the very last photo at the bottom.
"And that little spot right there means that we're having a boy."
"I thought they couldn't tell the gender until later."
"It is later, Kashi. Fourteen weeks."
He lets you take the pictures from him so he can set his hand on your stomach. You'd mentioned gaining a little weight recently, which he honestly hadn't noticed, but now he's wondering how he could've missed it as he brushes his fingers over the slightest most obvious bump in your usually flat stomach.
He must've been zoned out for too long, because you're calling his name and setting your hand over his. He hums, a slight acknowledgment that he's heard you, but you know he's not actually listening.
He's too busy thinking about diapers and bottles and late nights and early mornings. How his son is going to be in the same class as his student's kids. How Gai is going to be a hundred times more annoying in the coming years.
But then a single thought completely derails his spiraling. He wonders what your baby will look like. If he'll be a morning person like you or like to take naps like him. If they'll accel in genjutsu or not, because while he certainly does, you most certainly don't.
He's spent time with Kurenai and Mirai. While raising a person definitely seemed difficult, he couldn't deny that Kurenai was happy. Actually, despite Asuma's untimely death, she's the happiest he'd ever seen her.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just... thinking about how annoying it'll be to tell everyone we're expecting."
"Seemed more like panicking to me."
"... shut up."
210 notes · View notes
the-bi-space-ace · 21 days
Text
Clone Cuddle Headcanons
Tumblr media
Wrecker is the biggest cuddle bug idk what to tell you. He does run hot however. The amount of times whoever he’s cuddling with wakes up sweating and a thousand degrees is unbelievable. He’s real great to lay on top of though. Right on top. Get up there.
Tumblr media
Crosshair is a surprising confusing individual and I keep looking at him in disbelief. He’s not averse to touch but he does want to be the one to initiate it. Especially cuddling. He will sit by himself in silence and then randomly walk up and just plop on top of whoever he’s chosen. They then have to lay there and let him choose the position, the blanket situation, the temperature, etc. otherwise he’ll leave. Cat rules.*
Tumblr media
Tech isn’t huge on cuddling either but is willing to not be the initiator if they also respect whatever activity he is doing. If he’s sitting working on a project he will allow one of them to lay their head in his lap or wrap around him as long as they aren’t in the way. He may even play with their hair or rub their backs absentmindedly.
Tumblr media
Echo goes through phases. He wants to be touched but not all the time and sometimes he really hates it and other times he really craves it. It’s mainly important to either ask first or let him ask. He likes to sleep near another person and will choose someone to latch on to if he’s in a cuddling mood. Sometimes he literally can’t get enough physical contact to feel comfortable and it drives him up a wall. (Can I please suggest that part of the reason Hunter touches his shoulder so often is bc of those moods where Echo legitimately can’t get enough physical touch. I just think that would be a nice thought.) He feels best when he gets to hold someone else and he is especially partial to Wrecker who not only keeps him warm but also is pretty willing to switch the cuddling up at any point. Good man.
Tumblr media
Hunter! Hunter here! Really enjoys a good cuddle! Loves his back scratched or his hair played with! He has passed out on top of the other batchers before and woken up two hours later not knowing where tf he is. He also appreciates a good weight on him so his preferred position if he’s holding somebody is on his back with the other person laying their head on his chest. He runs warm so he’s a good option for the cold nights.
Tumblr media
Fives loves everyone’s personal space. Especially Echo’s. He is a cuddle while sleeping type of guy. No need to feel weird about asking him for a cuddle he’s down for it. If anyone sits on the edge of his bed while he’s trying to sleep he rolls over and wraps his arms around their waist and hugs them. Had so much practice at comfort when he was a cadet that it is second nature for him. When he joined the 501st he got real protective of the shinies so they sought him out often when they needed support.
Tumblr media
Rex does like a good cuddle but only with specific people. Doesn’t really want to be touched by people he doesn’t know well. Is honestly more accustomed to touch if it’s playful but again. Usually with people he knows well. Likes to lay his head in people’s laps or let them fall asleep on him. Is not too hot or too cold. Got used to the dominos crawling into his bunk while he was asleep and had to adapt to them being clingy on bad days. Got used to it and ended up missing when they weren’t there. Cody calls him a softie. Says they ruined him forever. He gets so grumpy back.
Tumblr media
Cody. This man. Idk why but I always headcanon him as a physical touch kind of guy. Doesn’t like overly fond affection in public spaces but is real affectionate in private. Like Rex he’s more comfortable with the playful affection but there’s always a spot in his bed if someone needs it. He’s rarely sleeping through the night anyway. Might as well be the support system for those who need it. More accustom to holding hands honestly. It’s quiet it’s easy he can still use his datapad while he holds someone’s hand.
*I have a cute addition which is that the first time Crosshair plopped down and decided Echo was going to be his cuddle target Echo was in the middle of something and Crosshair just threw whatever Echo was working on aside and laid his head in Echo’s lap while this man just looked at the rest of the batch like ‘help?!? He’s never done this before am I in danger? What do I do!?!’ And everyone else was just like ‘you’re fine just be normal about it’ and after a few minutes of silence he just plopped his hand on Crosshair’s head and that’s how they both accidentally took a three hour nap and woke up disoriented with aching necks.
211 notes · View notes
f1byjessie · 8 months
Text
A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.
sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.
( lando norris x photographer!reader )
━━ part two.
Friday evenings are typically spent in the comfort of your flat. Normally, you’re half paying attention to reruns of whatever shitty reality TV happens to be on and half scrolling through social media to keep up with the ever-fluctuating trends of content as per your job requirements, all the while eating your body’s weight in takeaway. It’s not the dream, but it’s certainly a dream.
Tonight, you plan on amending things to include going through the pictures of Bali’s stunning beaches that Lando’s been spamming you with throughout the day, but beyond that, you have no intentions of deviating further from your norm.
You’re actually really looking forward to it. Though you’d rather cut off your own hand than admit it to his face and give him new ammunitions to tease you with, you miss Lando during the winter breaks. So much of your year is spent having him nearby━ a near-constant presence buzzing with the inability to slow down let alone stop━ and when he isn’t around, the silence seems louder. There’s no one else who manages to annoy you the way he does, and it’s just not the same without him.
To make matters worse, between your new job, Lando’s travels, and the scheduling conflicts that have arisen in turn, you haven’t had a chance to catch up with him beyond a few back-and-forth messages about his current escapades. So you really, genuinely, truly are looking forward to it.
Garrett Ward throws a wrench into things.
You have mixed opinions of Garrett. He can be very sweet, and he’s gone out of his way to make you feel incredibly welcome in your first week with the Manchester City team. He makes good conversation and seems genuinely interested in what it is you’re doing, often asking questions about your equipment and process, which is a nice change of pace from most other clients you’ve worked with in the past who rarely give two shits about anything beyond the final product. But his reputation is… concerning.
Garrett Ward is infamous in English tabloids for being a notorious womanizer.
There are several articles that come to mind, but the most damning of which is from 2019, before his trade to Manchester City, detailing with very incriminating photos how he’d been seen entering a club with two women and then leaving just a few hours later with a completely different pair. You don’t want to assume he’s the same man now as he was back then, nearly a full five years ago, but you’ve been working in the sports industry long enough to know that athletes can have anyone and if they want then they will have anyone━ there is no shortage of temptation.
And you are not arrogant enough to assume you would be the outlier.
Which makes his interest in you feel less like friendly curiosity and more like something you need to be wary of.
It’s also why━ as you make the trek through the Etihad Campus car park━ you feel dread begin to pool in your stomach as you answer your ringing phone. “Hi, Garrett.”
“Y/N!” He exclaims excitedly, sounding like he hadn’t just seen you barely ten minutes ago in the weight room. “I meant to catch you before you left, but you were outta there so fast I wasn’t able to.”
And there’s probably a reason for that, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “Yeah, I usually try to be pretty quick about it.”
There’s an awkward pause left open as if he expects you to say more, and when you don’t he clears his throat. “Erm, well, I was actually just calling to see if, perhaps, you would like to grab dinner with me this evening.”
You don’t. At all. It’s one of the last things you would like to do. There are plenty of other hellish things you would willingly rather subject yourself to before sitting down and sharing a private meal with this man━ jumping into the Thames is one of them, and letting Lando drive you around on the autobahn in his Spider is another. Both could very easily result in death, permanent disfigurement, or any other number of horrible outcomes, but neither includes Garrett.
Your hesitating silence must be an answer enough for him, because he chuckles again and adds on quickly, “No strings attached, I promise. It’ll just be two friends getting dinner.”
All you want to do is get cozy on your couch in your pajamas with a kebab from the place down the street and watch pretty people deal with their pretty people problems on TV. You don’t think that’s too much to ask for, but apparently, some higher power does.
“I suppose that’d be alright then,” you agree tentatively, speeding through the stages of grief as you mourn the initial plans of your Friday evening━ the easy, simple, comfortable plans. “Shoot me a message with the time and place and I’ll meet you there.”
“Awesome!” Garrett cheers. “See you later then.”
The peaceful silence that awaits you after you hang up feels like it’s mocking you. Too bad you can’t flip off silence.
“Look, the truth is, City is looking at trading me at the end of the season if I can’t clean my act up.” Garrett’s voice is quiet as he admits the reality of his future to you, but it breaks the silence of the world around you like a gunshot. “And not just loaning me out━” he adds, a twinge of something akin to anger noting his tone, “━but fully trading me. They’re saying that my image makes things too hard for them and the only way they’ll consider re-signing me is if I can either keep my name out of the tabloids or try to clean myself up.”
In Garrett’s defense, he technically did hold true to his promise of just two friends getting dinner. Things were actually going quite well, too. The restaurant was a little more high profile than you would’ve expected for a casual meal, but that can easily be passed off as the luxurious lifestyle and expensive tastes of a pro athlete who can certainly afford it. Expenses of your meal aside, he’d been good company, asking after the ways of working in Formula One and then finding similarities in his football career that made it easy to chat about the struggles and stressors of professional sports.
But you can recognize that this is where it’s all beginning to go downhill.
He’s announced it completely out of the blue as you’re walking back to the garage where you’ve both parked your cars. On top of that, his pace slows and you’re forced to slow down as well to match it until you both eventually come to a halt in the middle of the pavement.
You feel for him, in all honesty. You understand the difficulties of contract negotiations and how easily they can fall apart. The fragility of Formula One contracts is its own special brand of tricky and you’ve seen many friends move on to other teams in the blink of an eye just as they’ve begun to settle down and make their mark where they are. You can’t say for certainty that you understand the mechanics of football contracts to the same degree, but you can imagine they have their own fragile fine print.
But the chill of a January night in Manchester is brutal, and you’ll be the first to admit that your outfit does not protect against it. You don’t really want to be having this conversation in general, because you’ve known Garrett for all of a week which makes you acquaintances at best, but you especially don’t want to be having it now, out here in the cold when all you want to do━ all you’ve wanted to do since this afternoon━ is curl up in something warm and comfortable and pretend the world outside your flat doesn’t exist for a few days.
“I’m not sure what this has to do with me if I’m being honest, Garrett.”
He shrugs. “I just thought you might be able to help.”
You shove your hands in your pockets in a desperate attempt to keep your fingers from going more numb than they already are and shake your head at him. “I don’t know how exactly you think I can help you with that. I’m a photographer, not a PR officer.”
“My agent thinks it would be a good idea if I showed the media that I could hold down a steady relationship. Prove to them that I’ve changed my ways, and have matured.” He shrugs again, nonchalant despite being the one to bring this up in the first place.
“Have you?”
He makes a face, something between a flirty smirk and a suggestive wink, “Well, I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Garrett.”
“Look,” he crosses his arms and levels you with a look that fills you simultaneously with more rage and annoyance than a single person has ever made you feel before. “It would just be for a couple of months, and then we could stage an amicable breakup and that would be that! It just has to be long enough to show everyone that I’m not the same as I used to be.”
You give him a look right back, hoping it conveys how appalled you are by his audacity. “Okay, but why me of all people? Christ knows you probably have a list of women in your contacts who would jump at the chance to pretend to date you for a few months.”
His face pinches up in disgust. “Yeah, but they’re all former hookups, and I mean, they’re kinda psycho about me to be fair. If I tried to end things, they’d probably go to the tabloids themselves and smear my name with the worst things they could come up with.” He shrugs again, and you’re starting to find that you hate it when he does so. “I need someone willing to just play along for the time being and who will be discreet when things are over.”
“And you think I’m that person?” You scoff. “You’ve known me for a week!”
Your voice echoes and it reminds you once again that you’re having this conversation in the middle of a random street in Manchester. It’s cold and dark, and you’ve been attempting to bite back your frustration since the moment Garrett called you. You’ve been as nice as you possibly can be for this man, shy of bending over backward to worship the very ground he walks on, and you’re so close to your limit that you think if he shrugs one more fucking time━
He shrugs. “Well, yeah, but you know how this industry works. So I know you can be trusted.”
You take a deep breath to try and retain what’s left of your quickly slipping composure, before you say, “Garrett, this goes beyond unprofessional. I could potentially get into a lot of trouble for this. You’re technically my co-worker, if not my client by proxy. It’s not a good look for me to be getting with the athletes I work with, considering my entire career is based on working with athletes.”
He makes a befuddled face as if asking what that has to do with anything. It occurs to you that he’s probably never had to worry about the ethics of hooking up with someone when most of the women who are interested in him would do everything in their power to spend a night by his side whether it’s morally just━ or legal, for that matter━ or not.
“That doesn’t seem to stop you from being all cozy with that Nor-whatever guy,” he grumbles.
“What?”
“That driver,” he repeats. “You post him all over your socials, like, all the time.”
You tear your hands from your pockets and throw them up in the air, “Because that’s my job?!” The stupidity of the man before you is genuinely baffling. He’s been asking about your job all week long but the way he’s talking now makes it seem like he didn’t catch onto the fact that your entire career is centered around media and the creation of content made with the explicit intention of being shared.
“I am quite literally paid to take and post pictures of him per my contract with McLaren,” you continue. “And even if I wasn’t, he’s my best friend?! I’ve been working and traveling and spending the majority of my time with Lando since 2019 so of course I’m going to be close with him. Do you not post your mates every once in a while?”
“Yeah, but it’s different. All my mates are guys, so nobody thinks I’m dating any of them when I do it.”
You scoff in disbelief. “I cannot believe this right now. You know, for a moment, I briefly considered helping you. But you’re actually exactly the type of prick the tabloids say you are.”
He takes an intimidating step closer, and his voice drops an octave lower. “I would reconsider if I was you.” You’re not short, but Garrett isn’t either. He’s one of the tallest players on the Manchester City team, and the way you feel now with him staring you down makes you wonder if this is what it feels like to be his opponent on the pitch.
It’s fucking terrifying.
But you’re fucking livid, too.
Your jaw clenches and you bite out sharply, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“What it means,” he starts, “is that if you don’t help me, maybe I slip a word about something or other to my boss who slips a word to his boss who is, also, your boss, and suddenly, whoops!” He gives you a cocky smirk, so sure of himself that it makes you feel like your blood is literally boiling. “He’s not your boss anymore. In fact, nobody is your boss anymore, because your ‘slip in conduct’ was very inappropriate and made several players uncomfortable, which doesn’t look very good when trying to get jobs elsewhere in the industry.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Well,” he fucking shrugs. “When you say it like that, yeah. I guess I am.”
You cross your arms, your hands clenched into fists so tightly that you can feel your nails digging painfully into the flesh of your palms. “You’re a real bastard, you know.”
“You’re not the first person to tell me that, love.”
If only it were legal to kill a man━ Garrett Ward would be six feet under and picking worms from between his teeth.
You weigh your options, though. You’re not sure how much weight his word actually carries. For all you know, he could tell his boss, they could bring you in to discuss things, and then you could explain it all from your point of view. Garrett is a notorious flirt and you doubt it’s the first time he’s tried to pursue someone who isn’t interested in him. You doubt it happens very often, but it has to have happened at some point. Not to mention, his reputation regarding women is bad enough that Manchester City is already giving him an ultimatum, so you probably have a chance, and the worst-case scenario is that you amicably part ways with the team and that’s that.
But realistically there is a worse worst-case scenario, and it’s pretty damn close to what Garrett is threatening. Losing this side gig wouldn’t really be too much trouble. It would put a dent in your savings, and you’d have to be a bit better about how you ration out your groceries and other necessities around the flat, but losing your job at McLaren? Being blacklisted from the industry entirely? That’s life-destroying. You would lose everything━ all the blood, sweat, and tears you shed to get where you are would be for nothing.
All because of a prick in sky blue.
“Fine,” you utter from between gritted teeth. “I’ll help you. But I won’t post you on my account. I won’t bring you home to my parents. I won’t go round to your flat and I certainly will not have you round to mind. You get one kiss to make it official to the paps, and then nothing more.” You take your own threatening step toward him, and a vindictive part inside you shines with malicious glee when he shifts ever so slightly backward. “If you try anything else, I will run to the papers and drag you through the mud worse than any of your little psycho groupies ever could.”
He scoffs, “You’d ruin your career.”
“But I’d tear you down with me,” you reply.
He takes a moment to think, staring into your eyes and weighing how serious you are. Whatever he sees staring back at him must be convincing enough because he sniffs, nods, and smirks.
“Deal.” He leans down, “I think I’ll be taking that kiss now. Make sure to really sell it, yeah?”
━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre
━━ a/n: i feel like i say this every time, but i am seriously blown away by how well the first part of this was received! like, seriously, thank you so much for the kind words everyone said about it! hopefully this second part lives up to the hype of the first, it's a little denser, but the events are important to establish for the rest of the story so it needed to happen!
433 notes · View notes
bakugoushotwife · 1 year
Text
kinktober day four: voyeurism kink
>>> guys can you tell i have a choso fantasy or do i need to write another five thousand word fic to prove it i'm sobbing and actually in love with him fr. it took me days to write this bc i was just too feral.
>>> starring: choso kamo x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: roommate choso, hung like a horse choso, virgin choso, voyeurism clearly, petnames, masturbation, cowgirl, implied multiple rounds, choso whimpers you're so welcome, choso smokes a blunt grow up >>> wc: 4.8k >>> event masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
this whole roommate ordeal seemed easy enough. you had a spare room in your condo, yuji had a spare brother that needed a place to stay after graduation. it worked out perfectly, as you weren’t too keen on having a rando move in. though the half-curse was little more than that, really. you had only come in contact with choso briefly, seeing him move through the halls of jujutsu tech in search of the very brother that recommended him to you. he was intimidating, tall and broad with a look of disinterest across his face every time you ran into him. yuji had told you that he wasn’t necessarily unfriendly, just unsure, so you were weary to approach him once he moved into the spare room. you didn’t want to overdo it, you would hate to make him uncomfortable with all these changes he was getting accustomed to. so for the first three months or so, you two would only exchange pleasantries and nod respectfully, two strangers sharing an address and lingering curious stares. then, one morning you offered to make him breakfast, and you two settled into a comfortable friendship after that. 
Nowadays, nearly a year later, the living area was actually used and shared. you watched recommended shows together, introduced each other to your favorite movies, and oftentimes just sat in each other’s presence on the couch; on your phones, playing nintendo switch games, or passing choso’s best attempt at a blunt between you while shit talking your neighbors with your legs in his lap. you even encouraged him to invest in a real gaming setup, where he plays a host of different games for hours while you sit contently in the bean bag chair stationed nearby in his room, reading or crafting or just watching from time to time. the more comfortable he became, the more fun he was to be around. he was no longer shy to ask you to sit with him while he plays or to inquire about your latest book and his smiles and conversations flowed more freely. 
he enjoys your presence. it’s easy to be around you. he wonders why. even with all the progress he had made with you, he was still terribly awkward around new people and his social battery was limited. he never got tired of hanging out with you though, in fact, he craves it always. yuji says that it’s because you’re pretty, which choso can’t disagree with, though his brother’s statement irritates him for no good reason. 
he finds himself wondering if his brother knows you the way he does, silly things about you like which animal crossing character you would reincarnate as or the fact you hate grape flavored anything—it all tastes like cough syrup!--he can hear you say. no, he gets to see the real you, the one you reserve just for him. so yuji can think you’re pretty all he wants, but he’s the one who gets to see your breathtaking smiles in reaction to something he said.
“bro?! still there–or are you too busy being jealous?” yuji snickers, relishing in the match he made. he knew choso would wake up with a babe like you walking around. 
“you’re a child. and a dick.” he huffs, aggravated by his spacey sibling’s acute sense of his feelings. “goodbye.” he taps to end their weekly gaming marathon facetime two hours short out of annoyance, confronted with the silence of his bedroom and his questioning thoughts about you. jealous? as much as he hated to admit it, maybe he was. he couldn't even picture the thought of you being with someone else, try as he might. did that mean he wanted to be that person? your person? he’s so confused, but he knows even if he’s embarrassed he can talk to you about it. you could help him work through his feelings and come to a solution. even if the feelings were about you, he knows you would always be honest with him. he sighs, deciding to make his way to your room down the hall. 
you two didn’t spend a lot of time apart now that the bond had been created, and you were more than alright with that routine, because on fridays, choso holed up in his room for five straight hours to facetime yuji and play video games giving you some much needed time to yourself. you always started with a long and intricate shower, doing all your different exfoliants and masks. then you’d touch up your nails and give yourself a total spa treatment, finishing up by putting on your cutest little panties and releasing some of the pent up sexual frustration for your roommate that you keep under lock and key for the same reasons you were hesitant to cross into friendship territory all those months ago: you don’t want to scare him away. 
so you settle for your own small hands cupping your chest and pinching at your nipples, trying to picture him. It’s choso’s large and veiny hands that run down your sides and spread your legs instead of your own toying with your underwear. you can smell the versace eros cologne he wears wafting through your nose, almost able to hear his gravelly voice in your ear praising you for doing so good. it’s almost embarrassing how easy it is to conjure the image of him sinking between your thighs, lust pooling in his violet eyes. you’re soaked already, feeling the fabric of your panties sticking to your cunt just at your active imagination. you peel them off, hissing as cold air blows across your middle, but your fingers quickly find the heat of your hole, gathering that natural lube to flick your clit with. your eyes are closed—whining helplessly already at the sensation you bring yourself with him in mind. it’s nowhere near the real deal, but the bliss is good enough to lull pants of his name from your mouth, body light as air.
choso doesn’t think anything of your closed door. you told him you keep it closed to let him have his space, not wanting him to feel like you’re watching or eavesdropping on him while he’s on the phone. especially as he got close enough to reach for your door handle, hearing you call his name. you sounded…strained? in all honesty he was worried. so he doesn’t hesitate to push the door open a bit, peeking to check. his heart drops into his stomach at the sight of you naked on your bed. you’re stunning. he’s seen pictures of other women—and yuji showed him a few websites—but your body was second to none. his hand flew to cover his immediate hard on, shocked you hadn’t noticed him yet. fuck, you are gorgeous, one hand squeezing at your breast, the other playing around in that squelching noise he hears between your legs. he fights the urge to moan aloud or announce his presence, and he’s ashamed of himself. he feels like he’s betraying your trust, but his dick keeps growing in his pants at the chants of his name spilling out of your lips. he watches as your legs jerk and your head falls back against your pillow, making him think you were almost done. he had to get out before you saw him or felt his unique energy so close to you. he’s panting as he shuts the door quietly, turning the knob just so it wouldn’t alert you. 
his dick hurts as he makes it just one room down—the bathroom. perfect. he turns the shower on immediately, stripping his clothes off like they were on fire. he had set out to talk to you, to be completely honest about the thoughts he had been having, but seeing you like that did things to him words could not. he’s been horny before, of course, and dealt with that the way single human men do. but this—the desire coursing through his veins—this was different. so different. everything was clear now, he needed you. he stands with his back under the water, whimpering as his dick throbs to the mental image of your glistening pussy and blissed out face. he can’t help but close his fist around the his wide shaft, stuttering out a sigh in relief. he strokes himself to the same rhythm you moved your fingers, imagining how that pace would feel with your wet and warm cunt hugging him in instead of the rough surface of his hand. his other hand keeps him braced on the shower wall, steadying him through the searing heat the promises of your touch seem to be; to think that you were calling for him, thinking of him in the way he thinks of you now felt like a dream. he had to be hearing things, that’s the only excuse the man can summon. water beads down his biceps and chest, and it just makes his dirty deed all that much more so, fucking into his fist until his load is running down the side of the tub, the pearly beads getting swept away in the water and carried down the drain. he tosses his head back in the shower stream, his long black strands sticking to his face and neck as he tries to rinse away his shame. 
that night, choso doesn’t come out of his room to watch a movie with you before bed. you pout, but try not to linger on it too long. maybe yuji took a lot out of him today, or they didn’t have a successful time on and he was moody. either way, you weren’t going to bother him. you hang out on the couch like usual with the hopes that he would emerge soon, but as your bedtime nears and everything remains still, you slink off to your room with a sour mood to end an otherwise normal day.
as the days pass, choso’s behavior gets weirder and weirder. it’s almost as if he’s completely reverted inside his shell he made when he moved in, only emerging to get food when he had hoped you weren’t around. the times in which he did inevitably run into you were dealt in nervous laughter and denials that anything was wrong with him. it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was lying, hiding something from you even. you were slightly hurt that he didn’t trust you enough to talk to you, instead of going backwards and shutting you out. you wanted to wait it out, but as the days turned into a full week, you feared losing him altogether. 
you stewed over the situation the entire time you were at work. you couldn’t even get anything accomplished because you were too preoccupied wondering what you had done to wound your connection. spending your days alone was maddening. a little over a year ago, you would have relished in the peace and quiet, but now it was unwelcome. you only wanted quiet if it was filled with the subtle sounds of pages turning or the buttons of a controller smashing or shared breathing during the climax of a show. this was haunting, and you knew you had to do something. you left work early, faking a stomach ache in order to get home and corner choso into relenting. no more miss nice roommate. you were tired of letting him be all weird and distant. so you walked in unceremoniously, not necessarily out to scare him. you shake your sandals off by the door and walk towards his room, noting that his door was actually open for once. 
that was only because you weren’t supposed to be home for three and a half more hours, giving choso plenty of time to relive his dirty fantasies of you with the least amount of guilt possible, though he could barely look you in the eye these days. if you weren’t home, he could at least not worry about you catching him in his perverted acts, only dealing with the shame that flows in after he’s came for the millionth time to the image of your legs quivering and mouth parting in pleasure. he didn’t hear you sneak in–didn’t hear you shuffle down the hall to poke your head around the doorframe. he was dead to the outside world, his hips stuttering into his hand, thumb swiping the pre-cum that beaded there around his slit, stroking himself with whimpers of your name tumbling out, his eyes scrunched tight in concentration. 
your jaw was on the floor, never in a million years imagining that he even knew how to touch himself like that, not to mention the prayers of your name on his tongue, mirroring the ones you make for him on fridays. he was massive, it had you covering your mouth in shock. even with his huge hand, it seemed like pumping himself was a tall task. you couldn’t imagine trying to do it yourself, you’re not even sure two hands would do the trick— you must have gasped aloud or something, because suddenly his head snaps toward where you stand in the doorway. 
“y/n–you’re–” his dark eyes are wide, his lips parted in realization that you had really caught him jerking off and mewling your name like a helpless perv. as the guilt starts to creep in, the haze of need and desire clouds his mind. he never lets go of himself, all too aware of your lip between your teeth and your hardened nipples poking through your top—no, you shouldn’t be seeing this, you shouldn’t even be home yet! not to mention how ashamed you should be of your own roommate rutting into his hand.
“...i’m home.” you whisper back, a slight smirk creeping onto your face. despite the red blush spreading across his cheeks, he keeps fucking up into his hand. it’s salacious, and you can feel your body responding to the sight, unsurprisingly. you’ve been picturing him naked for months, and not even your lewd imagination gave him justice. every plane on his body was sculpted and defined, thick veins running down his arms and thighs and cock. he left his hair down, some of the strands tucked behind his ear, some of them hung over his brows and cheekbones. he gulped when he noticed your stare, your eyes locked on the thick cock in his hand, curved with an angry and needy tip. 
“y/n, i’m so so sorr–” he scrambles to sit up, the heavy reality finally sinking in. he was awful, sick in the head, you were going to have him pack his shit immediately, and he’d have to tell all his friends why you had gotten rid of him. 
“need some help?” you spit out, unable to tolerate the pounding in your chest and pussy. his eyes grow impossibly wider, blood rushing in his ears. did he understand you right? he couldn’t possibly. 
“wh-what?” he sputtered, sitting up slightly to try and hide himself from view a bit, as if you hadn’t seen every bit of him already. 
“i asked if you wanted my help. you were saying my name, weren’t you?” you tease gently, stepping further into his room, your hands innocently folded behind your back. now that you know your desire is shared, you felt confident enough to push your relationship further yet again. he nods hesitantly, watching you stalk over to the bed like a lioness about to pounce.
“i–yes, it’s not what you think. i know it looks–” 
“like you were jacking off and thinking about me? is that not…what you were doing?” you hum, pausing by the foot of his bed. you look so cute, he has to believe you know what you’re doing, folding your arms under your voluptuous chest just to taunt him a bit more. you have him backed into a corner, and he either had to admit the truth or come up with a very clever lie. and he is not a gifted liar. 
“i–yeah…” he looks away, feeling the shame weighing down on him now that you had confronted him with the undeniable truth. 
you chuckle warmly. “i do the same thing, ‘cept I’m thinking of you.” you shrug, the smirk growing on your face as realization seeps into his. he didn’t misunderstand you that day or even earlier in this conversation. you want him too. he swallows thickly again, remembering the day that started all of this. 
“i–i know, i saw you, last week.” he chokes out as you take your top off, revealing yourself to him. He’d noticed your lack of bra earlier, but didn’t expect to be blessed with the sight of your body again, especially as you bend at the hips to wiggle out of your pants. Your laughter surprises him again, like he had intentionally made a joke. but it was only because he had solved the mystery that led you to his room in the first place, and that would potentially resolve any secrets you had been keeping from one another. 
“so that’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” you scrunch your nose at him adorably as you crawl onto the bed, his eyes glued to the body that had him locked in his bedroom day and night. “oh choso, i wish you would have interrupted me…i surely woulda let you help me.” you purr, so close to him that he could reach out and touch you now, and he definitely thinks about just grabbing your hips and pulling you down on him, finally feeling that glistening pussy for himself—to hell with his imagination, but your voice interrupts his thoughts again. 
“so, do you want me to help you, baby?” you glance from the hard length in his hands to his deep purple eyes, swirling with something you recognize very well to be deep desire. 
“please–” he whimpered and let his hand fall away from his pelvis, looking to you like a pathetic boy getting his teenage dreams fulfilled. Your grin grows wide, and you lean closer to brush your hand across his toned abdomen. he lets out a pleased little grunt and his cock jumps at the simple touch
“you’ve never been with anyone, have you?” you asked, faces so close he can see every freckle and dimple and scar on your skin. he shakes his head. you peck the tip of his nose. he’s already shivering, the feeling of your body leaning over his was exhilarating. your kiss was so simple and sweet, but it stopped all the thoughts in his brain. he was just malleable now, ready to let you make him feel good, finally shifting from imagination to reality. “need you to talk to me, so i can know where you’re at, cho.” 
“no, no..never.” he shakes his head again, eying you with excitement and nerves all at once. he wants to touch you, and you’ve already stripped naked and kissed him, so surely there was no going back now, so he reaches up and places his hands on your hips—so light like he was afraid to hurt you. 
you grin at both his answer and his courageous touch, nodding your encouragement, “that’s fine, i’ll help you…just do what feels natural–you can go as hard as you want., and tell me if you want to stop.” your eyes blink at him sweet he realizes he would trust you with his life if you asked. 
“okay.” he lets your words wash over him, nodding as he grips your hips a little tighter. he’s more than embraced his fate, his mouth watering a bit at the idea that you were in his bed and offering to make all his fantasies come true. you were expecting him to keep that deer in a headlights look, but when you rake your fingernails across his chest, you watch his eyes darken a bit more. “kiss me?” 
choso looks so cute, you couldn’t deny him if you wanted to. his eyebrow raised with innocence, but his eyes shrouded in arousal. you giggle softly and lean up, sliding your hands over his pecs and shoulders and into those dark locks calling your name. you tug, and he gasps softly. you take that opportunity to cover his parted lips with your own, his head falling back to accommodate you as you fully crawl into his lap. he melts, you feel and taste so impossibly good he’s concerned he may bust over the kiss. your tongue moves so expertly against his, twirling around and sucking on the muscle in a way he didn’t know people employed. then you’re sitting on his abs, and he can feel so much at once. his eyes blow wide in the kiss, and he has to pull away to gasp again and see what you’re doing to him. 
you’re simply sitting, your pretty shining pussy rubbing against his core and his dick teasing the crack of your ass. that must be what’s driving him insane, the warmth and softness providing some but not enough friction. you wiggle your ass a bit to tease him, and he whimpers. the sound is so sweet and low you know you can’t handle playing with the shy little virgin much longer.
“i–is th–that sup’posed to f-feel that go–ngh, good?” he stammers, the hold on your hips bordering bruising. he doesn’t even realize, and you certainly don’t mind, so you only smile and nod down at him, reaching for his chin with your fingers. he makes you look so small without even trying, the broad expanse of his body, wide jaw and thick legs—not to mention the monstrous cock rocking against your behind, your own need soaking his happy trail to the skin beneath. you move his gaze from your sensual movements back to your sultry gaze. yuji was wrong. pretty was such a mild way to describe the woman on his lap. you were more a kin to a goddess, something not fully human like him. 
“i was hoping to give you the full treatment, but i don’t think you’ll mind if i skip to the main event?” you bite your lip, your other hand scraping at his scalp a little bit. no, of course he didn’t mind. sometimes you were so silly. he nods fervently, remembering that he needed to find his voice, to not seem like such a coward when he wanted this so badly. 
“no—please,” he whimpers again, feeling the drip of your liquid on him. it dawns on him then that you’re just as needy, and you still wanted him even though you’d have to teach him what to do. you didn’t seem worried, maybe it was easier than he thought. but all he knows is that his balls are starting to hurt and he had never felt more buzzed in his entire life, sensitive to every move you make. “i need you so bad, oh sh–” 
you scoot back, lifting yourself up a little to align him with your entrance. his whimpers and begs were so fucking amazing, you wish you had it in you to milk it. you make the mental note to keep him begging when you show him what it feels like to have his dick sucked or whimpering when he eats your cunt for the first time. he’s so heavy in your hand, and you can’t even close your fist around him. it makes you shudder, knowing that you’re going to make him fit inside you no matter the stretch. his tip was so red and irritated, oozing pre. you swiped it over his head, humming in amusement as he jerks and whines at the feeling. 
“you’re massive, d’you know that?” you pout, sinking down a few inches. he moans at first, feeling like his cock was fit into a perfect sleeve. it’s unreal, the heat he feels in his gut as you rock further down on him, whining at how huge he was. he watches the pained faces you make halfway down, the concern clear on his face. he didn’t know he was that big—he hadn’t really been comparing, but if it was hurting you, he wondered what he could do. he remembers watching you play with that sensitive spot at the apex of your thighs, using your own slick to glide around. he thinks he could replicate that, so he sticks his fingers in his mouth, spitting a bit to make sure they were just as wet as you were. you take more of him, almost to his base all while panting and bracing yourself on his chest with your eyes screwed shut. he reaches toward you, swiping his fingers around the place he watched you toy with. you gasp out and sit all the way down, the noises you make as he touches you make his eyes widen again. 
“god—i’m so full, baby.” you nod, your hips moving forward automatically, searching for more of that searing feeling he brings to your clit. he surprises you, moving his digits in slow circles as you get accustomed to his size. he chokes slightly when you squeeze him, his eyes zeroed in on your face. 
“are you alright?” he asks softly, feeling your nails dig into his chest as your hips move faster now, any other words he had wanted to say sucked from his brain like he had no thoughts at all, nothing other than that vice-grip of a pussy you have locked around him, bouncing softly and leaving little half-moons in his skin. 
“mhm, just had to stretch a bit t’fit you, are you alright?” you grin as you ask, knowing he would struggle to respond—in the best way possible. he nods eagerly, eyes flickering from where you swallow him up to your soft face of bliss. 
“are you kidding? i’m—” you rock on him a bit faster, the feeling of wet and choking walls rubbing every possible spot had him sputtering, unable to speak. he’s only able to watch you run a hand through your mane, keeping it out of your face and away from your bouncing tits. he’s in heaven. being with a woman, no, being with you, was as all the eternal bliss he cared to know. 
his hips start to move, the hold he has on your hips trailing up to the curves of your waist to better hold you down. he didn’t realize how much more intense he would make this feel for the both of you, grunts and whines spilling from his lips as you begin to cry out and yell. it’s heavenly, the way you let him drive into you, leaning forward with one hand on the headboard and the other tugging his head towards your chest. he contains his pathetic pants by sucking your nipple in his mouth, laving his tongue over it, mind so drunk and hazy he can only be driven by his primal instincts, flat footed on the bed to plow into you from below. 
it’s so perfect. you scream his name way better than he ever imagined, and he doesn’t mind to bear the scratch marks of your passion. you keep squeezing around him, and it drives him crazy. 
“i–i love when you do that—clenching down on me like that, fuck.” He grunts, slowly getting his knees under him while you sloppily keep the pace. he uses the leverage to ease you to your back, though you don’t have the luxury of pillows or a headboard, only the mattress beneath you as choso realizes this positioning lets him piston his hips without you having to do any work at all. you’re wailing, nodding to keep him from worrying about you as you continuously claw at his back and shoulders. 
“choso baby—” you whine in such a way, he knows he’s going to bust in seconds. “you’re gonna make me cum, please–doin’ so good, ngh—ack!” you cry, legs tightening around his waist as he feels a significant increase of your fluids. feeling and watching you cum by his doing was the nail in the coffin—the way your face screwed up in pure pleasure brought him his own, his pelvis stilling against the mounds of your backside, cock twitching against your womb before your vision is blurry, and all you feel is warmth seeping out of you. his load leaked out around him inside you, his cock still pulsating with no signs of dying down. 
he smiles at you a little shyly, his cheeks rosy and eyes hazy with the aftershocks of such a gripping orgasm. he watches your chest heave as you calm down, your eyes fluttering open and a smile spreading across your face as you look up at him. 
“what do i do now? to take care of you?” he asks, absentmindedly stroking the creases where your thighs meet your hips. you giggle and shake your head, knowing it would take multiple rounds for his erection to die down. 
“i show you the full treatment now, baby.” you grin, wiggling your eyebrows. 
choso found himself immersed in exploring himself and your body, discovering several new kinks to enjoy with his sweet little roommate turned lover.
Tumblr media
971 notes · View notes
winterzsurprise · 5 days
Text
Change My Mind [3]
Tumblr media
Pairing: BTS x reader
SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.
Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but what you can't do is accept the fact that they're your soulmates.
Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory
Words: 8.8k
ao3 is down so I'll update it first here. Chapter got delayed since this wasn't originally part of the roster. its currently 1am so there will be mistakes I missed but that's for future Winter's problem.
edit: please comment if you want to be added to the tag list :DD
[1] [2] [3]
__________
For a guy with his heart on his sleeves and his emotions displayed so loudly on his face like neon signs with gigantic arrows, Taehyung is an enigma.
It didn’t help that he had experience in acting, if anything it made it harder to understand him.
One moment he's supportive of your quest for a perfect husband then another, he's raging with a jealousy even the power of the thousand burning suns couldn't replicate. Even when Guwon has long disappeared, Taehyung didn't stop from hanging off of your arm when the three of you had entered your home. 
In the short time they had stayed over, he made sure he was somehow close to you or having you within his sight while Jimin returned to being the sweet boy he had always presented himself as but the glint of something dark in his eyes never disappeared.
But it didn't make any sense. All of their behaviors, even Jimin, is confusing.
Taehyung had introduced a date to the group before, and had hooked up with a few people from the after-parties if the others’ words were anything to go by. Jimin is the same, although he took every chance to flirt with you at any time and everywhere, you always thought it was him being his playful self. But after last night?
You don't know.
And you hate not knowing.
To find out that Jin still liked you was shocking already, then comes this new realization—along with the impacts of Jungkook’s confession—to knock you off of your feet. You thought he had moved on like he had said years before, but last night's conversation had told you otherwise.
“That's the tenth time I've heard you sigh just this hour alone and we're only drinking coffee, what’s wrong?”
Your head shot up to meet the concerned gaze of the oldest make-up artist. Jihae is one of the original staff back from 2013, the woman who had picked you up when you tripped in front of the BigHit building crying with your bag spilled out, having been given a low grade in one of your subjects. 
They were lacking in staff back then, urgently searching for another body to help with the debut look and when she saw your cosmetic bag, she tugged you inside and told you to agree with whatever they were going to ask. 
Stunned, you followed the woman without question.
A month later, you dropped out of the nursing course your mother had insisted you take and pursued cosmetology.
Many times have you looked back at the memory and grimaced. It could've gone wrong, she might've been leading you into a trafficking ring but nonetheless, you're glad you had accepted it.
All because Jihae had seen you with mascara-stained tears and somehow deemed you skilled enough for the job. Up until today, you still wonder what she had seen in an emotional teenager who had comically tripped face-first in the company’s front yard, mascara running down her face and thought: ‘She’d be a good addition’ . 
Whatever it is, you're thankful. 
“Hey, you still with us?”
Snapping out of your trance, you wearily smiled at her. “Yes I am, unnie. Just frustrated about something...”
At this, multiple heads turned to you, their stares a varying mix of curiosity and teasing. Suddenly reminded of the group lunch Jihae had proposed that day, a bonding exercise for the entire make-up artists roster, for better teamwork, she had said and internally facepalmed. You had forgotten that it wasn't just your friends sitting on the table with you and you had just aired your problem out in the open for them to hear.
Fuck Kim Taehyung and his confusing attitude. You should beat his ass next time you see him for being the catalyst to the dilemma haunting your mind.
Leaning closer to you, Nabi—another friend of yours—crossed her arms and flashed a shit-eating grin.
“Is it boy problems?”
Instantly, the table explodes into chatters, all of their questions drowning each other.
“Which one of them?”
“Did someone from Bangtan confess to you, unnie?”
“Is it Hoseok? Please say it is! I have a bet with someone from the styling department.”
“Was it Taehyung? I always thought he had a crush on you for a whi—”
“It's not any of them, please we're just friends.” You interjected before they dig further and find truth in their questions. “It's a different guy I've had two dates with.”
Never had you sounded more unsure of yourself until now and you had wished nobody had noticed. But one look around the table says differently. Your friends’ eyes glinted, all of them telling you that this discussion was far from over and you find yourself already dreading opening the groupchat once you're home. But unlike them, someone wasn't satisfied with your answer and crossed her arms from the other end of the table.
“Why so dismissive, unnie? We're all friends here, no need to be so defensive.”
Immediately, the ones closest to her snapped their heads at her with a scandalized look. Alexa was a new recruit, A half-Korean and half-Chinese who lived in the States for a better half of her life, had just joined the week before the first leg when one of the crew went into labor and had recommended her cousin as her last minute replacement until she could return.
In the short time she had been in the company, there had been whispers and none of them were positive. Rumors of an unhealthy obsession hidden beneath the skillfully applied make-up that granted her a younger and cuter appearance, hushed stories of their encounters where she'd reveal her soulmate mark—inked initials, and written on her wrist is a K.S.J, something she boasted around with a smug look, as if to imply something you refuse to entertain.
It was absurd. 
Seokjin was untethered, if he got a soulmate mark out in the open, he would've screamed it on top of the world. Delighted and in cloud nine at the thought of having someone destined for him. Not to mention, it meant that he didn't need to go through any of the shit you've gone through, going through dates after dates looking for someone better to settle down with only to be met with constant disappointment at the end of the day.
(You'd also be the first to know. He would've ran to you and asked if you manifested a mark too, but for your sanity, you pushed the thought at the back of your head as soon as it came.)
To say, to imply that Seokjin’s soulmate is the kid on the side of the table, it almost made you grimace.
“Hey Alexa, I know you're just new and a foreigner but that doesn't mean we'd let you disrespect your seniors!” Minhyuk, someone who had quickly wormed into your friend group last year, had jumped to your defense.
Alexa scoffed. “I'm just saying, no need to be so secretive, unnie. Everyone in this table knows how close Bangtan is to you. Everyone is wondering if you've at least dated one of them.”
“Hey Alexa, that's a bit…”
“Why are you guys looking at me like that? I'm just saying what you're all thinking,” She looks back at you. “I've seen how they look at you, surely you've at least had a fling with someone.”
Your brows shot up, incredulous and shocked by her audacity but before you could bite back, Minhyuk stood abruptly, face darkened with pure unadulterated anger.
“Oh this—” Nabi and you were quick to tug him back down to sit. 
At the commotion, everyone in the cafeteria shifted their attention to your table, inquisitive and curious of what might've set off the resident social butterfly, someone who everyone knows the name of and has been at the end of his constant kindness.
Minhyuk is a passionate soul, especially towards his job and friends. Having been kicked out for being himself, he turned to the very skill that had his father screaming expletives at him. Recommended by Jihae, who had been visiting a nearby friend at the time and was passing by his street, had found him crying in the rain, outside the gate of his family house. She had taken him home and the rest was history.
There's never been a time when you've all hung out, five emptied bottles of Sojus later, where he wouldn't be crying, thankful for the chance your eldest had given him before turning to you, sobbing loudly and hugging you and the rest of the group in a tight grip. Heart full of gratefulness for his new found family.
So there was no shock that he had been the first one to jump at the first sign of aggression towards your group.
“Everyone is looking, hyuk. Let's calm down.” Nabi whispered to him, eyes cautious and Minhyuk grunted.
“She's lucky we're in public, I would've torn her down for that comment.”
At the end of the table, Alexa scoffed, incredulous. “Are you seriously mad that I'm saying my opinion? Is it a crime to express their own opinion these days?”
“Not when it's as rude as yours.”
Jihae sighs. “Calm down the both of you. Remember that you're working right now.”
You didn't doubt that everyone in the company has speculated about your relationship with Bangtan. It's hard not to when the maknaes hang onto your words and comfortably play around with you, especially not when you have dinner at their dorm every other week so you didn't blame the newbie for being curious.
That's what you would've felt if she hadn't been going around planting ideas into people's heads that she might be Jin’s soulmate like the delusional slug she is.
You had half a mind to loosen your grip on Minhyuk and let him wipe the floor with her unnecessarily expensive work clothes.
Shrugging both your and Nabi’s arms from his, Minhyuk stands up again only to walk away from the table. Instantly, the rest of your group follows him as he marches through the gathered crowd in the cafeteria and in front of the closed elevator.
You trailed behind him, waiting for his eventual frustrated explosion as he always does after an encounter with Alexa since she was hired. Once you were all far enough, hidden away from the prying eyes of the public, he threw his head back and let out a loud, exasperated groan.
“That girl I fucking swear!” He growled as combed his long hair back. “Why did we even let her continue working after the tour?! We could've just found a better alternative, she's getting into my fucking nerves!”
Nabi sighed. “It's not like we have a final say in this, hyuk. Whether you like it or not, we'll be stuck with her until Hyuna comes back.”
“God,” He groaned. “You should've let me hit her once! I'm so tired of hearing her bullshit! Surely, you've heard the lie she's spreading around right?!”
“Like Nabi has said, we can't do anything unless it starts to hurt the reputation of the idol. She's smart for not saying it outright and somehow containing it within the styling departments.” Jihae responds with a defeated shake of her head.
The answer didn't satisfy Minhyuk, who then turned to you with a pout and wide puppy eyes before promptly stomping over and taking both your hands in his.
“Surely you can pull some strings, noona? Tattle off to Namjoon hyung or Seokjin hyung, surely one of them would do something, right?”
You almost considered his suggestion. Alexa had been grating your gears ever since she arrived to replace Hyuna. You had excused her lack of cooperation with the team for being a newbie and clumsy mistakes of haphazardly leaving her items everywhere for the stress of the new environment she was suddenly put in. But for her to go around implying Seokjin is her soulmate is another can of worms you didn't even want to open.
The mere thought of her existing on the same floor as Seokjin invokes an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach.
But unfortunately, even if you had tattled to Namjoon about her, nothing would happen since it's not too drastic of an event to fire someone over for. It's also just not a good idea overall. The tour is set next Wednesday and while Alexa doesn't cooperate with most of the team, she unfortunately got the skill to back her up. Her skills nearly compensate for her rude personality.
Almost.
“They won't fire someone over a small argument, Hyuk. Just suck it in until Hyuna returns.”
“Which will be in December after Japan,” He mulls it over before shaking his head. “Yeah no, I don't think I can tolerate her nasty ass that long.”
The elevator opens—Jihae had called it the moment they've arrived, bless her—and everyone piles in. It was a quick ride, the stylists being on the floor below the cafeteria. In a flash the metal doors parts opened and you all walked out. But before you could follow your friends back into your department, your phone vibrated from your pocket.
Slowing down, you pulled the device out and looked at who's texting you.
           [13:02] Hobi: can ask you a favor
           [13:02] Hobi: just an itsy bitsy favor 🤏🤏
           [13:02] Hobi: I promise it's harmless😁
There's also a text from Guwon not too long ago. Something you missed while you were lost in your thoughts earlier.
           [12:30] Guwon: Eat your lunch soon!
           [13:03] You: hi sorry late reply, I was having lunch with my co-workers, couldn’t use my phone during.
           [13:03] You: I hope your lunch was good😁
You briefly grimaced at how robotic your reply sounded before returning to Hoseok who had sent another text.
           [13:03] Hobi: don't leave me on seen please😢
           [13:03] Hobi: noona noona noona noona noona
           [13:04] You: hoba hoba hoba hoba hoba
           [13:04] Hobi: YAY
           [13:04] You: how can I help you?
           [13:05] Hobi: can you deliver lunch to hyung?😁
           [13:05] Hobi: I would do it myself but I'm currently helping Seokjin hyung and Namjoon with the dance
           [13:06] Hobi: and we both know Yoongi hyung wouldn't eat on time if I do it
           [13:06] Hobi: can you do it for me?🥺
           [13:06] You: sure, you guys still in the dance practice room?
           [13:07] Hobi: ur a life saver
           [13:07] Hobi: an angel in disguise
           [13:07] Hobi: but yes😁
           [13:08] Hobi: just knock on the door when you're here😁
“Y/N?” Jihae asks and you look back up to see your group waiting for you.
“Who is it?” Nabi adds.
“Better be news of Alexa getting fired. If not, I don't want to hear it.” Minhyuk says as he crosses his arms. You shook your head and he threw his hands up in frustration.
“Got asked to help with something but I'll be back in a moment.”
With a brief goodbye, you turned back to the elevator and directed yourself to the floor where the dance practice rooms are at. 
The walking distance from the elevator is not too far from the dance room but seeing five familiar teenage boys speaking in hushed whispers and hitting each other's arms in front of the vending machine just a feet away from the door easily distracted you.
If they had been crowding around the machine, you would've thought they were fighting over the last snack but instead they were all facing the same direction as your destination.
Sneaking up to the five giants, you're slowly introduced to the dilemma they were hitting and pushing each other for.
“You're the oldest, you should go and knock!”
“Just because I'm the oldest doesn't mean I should always be the first! Why are you even ordering me around?! Go ask Huening Kai instead!”
“Why me? I can't talk in Korean, I-I’m foreigner .”
“Oh don't you pull that shit on us. How are you only a foreigner when it matters?!”
“What are we talking about?”
Three shrill screams pierced through the air as the five of them jumped back, awkwardly long bodies falling against and clutching onto each other for dear life, all of them huddling onto the next body for protection. But once they recognize you, Yeonjun immediately regains composure and breaks off from the cluster to stomp over to you with his bottom lip jut out as he dramatically latches onto your arm.
“Noonaa, why would you scare us like that?!”
When you first met Yeonjun, he was standing in front of the cafeteria bar in front of the exhausted cashier and the long irritated line of workers, peering up onto the menu before looking down to count his money. He looked like a little kid lost in the sea of busy adults, painfully alone and helpless as the hungry customers behind him began to complain loudly.
He had been holding up the line as he recounted his change once more, hoping he had miscounted and that he could afford what he was eyeing. Seeing his hopeful expression crumble into defeat was enough to make you approach him and buy him lunch. 
Yoongi had teased you when he found you being trailed by another kid, saying you were collecting every doe eyed kid in the company and becoming their reliable older sister. Especially when his soulmates began to follow his footsteps.
“What were you guys doing? Fighting against who gets the last chip?”
Beomgyu then ran to wrap his arms around yours, the sweetest and most innocent smile plastered on his face as the two boys began to walk you forward, the destination? The dance studio.
“You know that we love you right, noona?”
Why these kids are genuinely intimidated by your sweet Hoba is beyond you. The man screams and flinches at the smallest of bugs daring to exist two feet away from him. Still, you entertained them with a raise of an eyebrow and Yeonjun continued.
“Our favorite make-up noona, the greatest sister figure we have ever had, my savior and my salvation, our dearest credit—”
“Okay, what do you guys want?”
You all stopped in front of the dance room door. IDOL was blasting on the other side of the wall, the floor vibrating with the beat. Although muffled, you could pick up the sound of shoes squeaking against the floor and heavy footsteps accompanying the song.
“Could you pretty please knock on the door?” Beomgyu asks, pleading and also hopeful and the rest of his brothers chimed from behind you with their own versions of the request which ended up sounding like a bunch of warbled words.
“Couldn't you have done that yourselves?”
“But they're busy and J-Hope sunbae is scary.” Taehyun quietly adds behind you.
“Hoba? He's the sweetest though?”
“Okay, let's not lie to ourselves now,” Huening Kai shoots back before motioning to the door. “Just… knock and we'll handle it from there. We promise!”
“Cross our hearts.” Taehyun says, drawing  a cross over his chest. The other four follow.
Dance teacher Hoseok to you is a hoax. You've never been subjected to his intense scrutiny and harsh perfectionist side, always managing to slip past or only being able to meet him outside of the workplace where he'd be far relaxed and cheerful. 
Sure there's been plenty of photographic and recorded evidence posted in the group chat but you still find it hard to believe he's more frightening than the bugs that scare him off the room.
“He's not that scary, guys.”
Taehyun scoffs. “Easy for you to say.”
“Crush privileges.” Soobin quietly adds.
“What—”
The door swings open before you could ask what he meant and Jungkook steps out of the room. 
In a span of a second, the memories of his drunken confession flashed before your eyes. From the moment he had entered your home with bags of snacks to the way his voice had sounded, hushed and shaky, when he asked you for a kiss.
Seeing him again outside the concert where Namjoon and Yoongi had made sure there were no contacts between the two of you, evoked a weird sense of longing within you. Having absolutely no contact with Jungkook for two days had you missing and recollecting your past memories with him. In the short amount of time you've been away, you wondered about many things.
From something as headache-inducing variations of hows and whys questioning his attraction to you to something more simple and short like ‘how is he feeling right now?’.
It was a dumb question with an obvious answer yet you wanted to know. Curiosity and anxiety clawing at your chest. 
Is your friendship still okay? 
Did rejecting someone this time finally ruin your entire dynamic with the group? 
Should you have chosen someone as your sister had told you to do? 
They have plagued your mind and haunted you in your waking days yet the moment you finally see him, your mouth dries up and your voice dies in your throat.
But before you could even muster the courage to talk to him, he turned his attention to the boys who had retreated behind you the moment the door opened and greeted them with a short bow before walking away, completely ignoring you. Pain blooms in your chest like a thorned vine wrapping and strangling your heart tighter and tighter as you watch his back disappear around the corner.
“Did sunbae just ignore noona?”
“Is that even possible?”
“I didn't hallucinate that, right?”
“Noona, are you okay?” Soobin’s concerned voice, soft and cautious, brings you back to reality and you turn to them, a precariously built smile on your face.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
The five shared a look as you stepped into the studio, exposing you to the two figures laid on the floor, heaving and panting. The main topics of your thoughts sitting at the far corner next to the black plastic table while Hoseok stood in the middle of the room, unaffected by whatever had happened and was chugging the water from the small bottle in hand.
As if he had grown a sixth sense for you, he suddenly spun around, a wide grin brightening his stern face.
“Noona!”
At this, the two men on the floor perks up. Namjoon merely waves before promptly dropping back down, Jimin and Taehyung only smiled at you, looking spent from whatever routine Hoseok had them do before turning to the two tallest. Seokjin had pushed himself up to stand and approach the black plastic table from the other end of the room where a dozen take outs were.
As Hoseok approached you, his gaze then found the cluster of five heads peeking through the sides of the entrance and laughed.
“You’ve got five ducklings following you, noona, didn't know you started collecting more after our maknaes.” He jokes before turning to the teens and waving them over. The group then spread to occupy the space in the doorway and bowed. “What can I do for you guys?”
They suddenly disappear behind the wall but you hear them hitting each other and their whisper-shouts, it took a long while before Soobin was pushed out of the shadow and forced to talk to their sunbae. The painfully shy teen shuffles over, shoulders folded forward and taking the smallest of steps forward before stuttering a bow.
A wide smile brightens Hoseok's face, endeared by the boy’s overly formal actions.
“H-Hi sunbae.”
“Hello, Soobinie.”
“We-we we're just wondering if we-we could watch you guys? Practicing dancing I mean—Not that you sunbaes need it cause you're professionals!—I mean of course you still need to practice to be better at dancing and—wait no—”
“ Yah Soobin, stop embarrassing us like this!” Yeonjun scolds and immediately, the boy almost broke his neck with how face he looked over his shoulder.
“Then go do it yourself!”
“We don't mind, as long as you guys stay in a corner like good kids then we'll all be good!” Hoseok cuts in before an argument ensues.
There's a tap on your shoulder and you look over to see Seokjin standing behind you, a gentle smile playing on his plush lips, both hands hidden behind him.
There's an awkwardness that hung in the air as you both gazed into each other's eyes before he cleared his throat and began.
“Have you eaten yet?”
“Yes.” You lie. Jin caught it.
Turning to face him fully, he then takes one of your hands and forces your fingers to hold the neatly folded top of a paper takeout bag.
“I've packed Yoongi’s portion here as well as an extra for you.”
“You didn't need to, I already ate.”
“I even had them order some soft tofu soup, you were craving it last week, right?”
It was sweet being loved so selflessly by him. It tasted like the sweetest nectar from the garden of Eden with a foul aftertaste once your mind reminded you of your sins against the man and the thorned tendrils of guilt coiled tighter around your chest, its sourness easily overlapping the sweetness of his love.
After Jungkook pretending you didn't exist earlier, having Jin, someone who you didn't even know still admired you all these years while you had messed around with many faces and came to work with some of their marks on your skin, expressing his care had you almost bursting at the seams. 
It enrages you thinking about Alexa going around spreading her bullshit spiel about being Jin’s soulmate. As if she deserved a morsel of his attention.
Nobody deserves Seokjin, not even you.
“Thank you Jinnie, but I already ate.” You then remembered your promise to return to your friends soon. “And Jihae is expecting me back immediately.”
“Coffee and toast is not lunch.” He deadpans as he takes your hand and forces it to close around the pack. “Just eat it with Yoongi, he'd be happy to be able to eat with someone and I’ll handle Jihae noona.”
“How the hell did you know what I had for lunch?”
Shock crossed over his face and he brought a hand over his mouth. “I was right? I just had a hunch on what you ate.”
“That’s a bit creepy, old man.”
“Maybe it’s a soulmate mark manifesting.” He shrugs but you doubt he meant it in a joking way.
“You’re way past the age, give it up hyung.” 
You both turned to the door at Jungkook’s voice. Like earlier, he had strode in without acknowledging your presence, something Seokjin had noticed immediately. His eyes slid to the five boys tentatively pushing each other to the empty corner of the studio before looking back at their youngest.
“How could you insult me like this? I fed you with my hands, you should be addressing me formally with a full 90° bow!” 
“I should’ve bitten your hands at least once back then.” Jungkook jokingly muses.
Before you could witness their banter explode, there’s a tug on your shirt and you spun around to face Hoseok who had nudged his head to the door. Jin had already marched towards the maknae before you could even thank him so you left.
Once you were both outside the studio, Hoseok closed the door behind and hugged you.
“Wh-what is this?”
“A thank you hug for being the sacrifice and feeding the grumpy dragon instead.” He says with a laugh but you knew what he was trying to do. It was in the way he tried soothing you with back rubs and this tight hug.
“I’m fine, Hoba. I didn’t expect us to be buddy buddy again after what happened.”
He sighed.
“He still shouldn’t have done that. I’m sure Seokjin hyung will talk to him about it later.”
Stepping back, you shook your head. “No need, I understand why he’s acting like that.”
His eyes regarded your face for a moment before pulling you back in for a hug and nuzzling his head on top of yours. “You don’t have to defend him noona, he’s acting like a child. It's our duty as his hyungs to fix that up.”
“Please don’t. It feels like you’re taking sides, he might think it's unfair.”
He laughs. “Are you kidding? ‘Cause from what I’m seeing, he’s being a petulant child. He should handle the rejection with more grace when it's his fault he’s in this predicament. You know Seokjin hyung warned him, right?”
“He told me when he and Tae took him home.”
“Then you should know better than defend him.” You opened your mouth to refute but he pressed a finger to your lips. “Don't start. He's not the same sixteen years old we had to raise back then, he needs correcting.”
With two hands on your shoulders, he then spun you around and began to push you towards the elevator, leaving no room for an argument. 
Once he had led you back to the locomotive, he briefly stepped in to push the correct button for the production floor and stepped back and waved as the elevator wall slowly closed to a shut.
“Now go feed hyung and yourself before you go back to work. Thank you again noona and see you later."
“Special delivery for a grumpy hairless cat!”
A beat.
Then came a grumbled: “Come in.”
Punching the proper strings of numbers on the door code, you open the door to the genius lab to find Yoongi sitting in front of his computer, one ear off of his headphones as he goes back to a specific second again and again.
Situating yourself on the couch next to the door, you place the paper bag on the coffee table and slowly unload all its contents, hoping its smell is enough to deter him from his work just for a second.
Taking one of the containers, you open it to see bulgogi generously sprinkled on top of rice. The savory smell of the dish wafting out almost immediately, and Yoongi visibly perks up from his table; if perking up meant him temporarily stopping his incessant clicking and head tilting a little to the side.
“Is it all bulgogi?”
Placing down the container, you opened the other one to reveal the same dish except this time with fried rice.
“Yeah, you want fried rice or no?”
“Whatever you like less.” He grumbled as he returned to his work.
“That's not a proper answer.”
“Just take whatever you want, I like either.” He muttered.
Staring at the food on the table, you found yourself at a crossroads. The fried rice looks more appetizing than the plain white rice on the other container but you've had enough sodium for the week, having challenged Taehyung, Jimin and Jin to who can eat more ramyeon in one sitting the day before the concert.
But today just doesn't feel like a plain rice type of day. 
But fried rice isn't healthy.
“Just choose please, I don't know what I want either.” You groaned out, frustrated.
With a grunt, the man took off his headphones and turned to face you before maneuvering himself closer to the table and picking up the container with the plain rice.
“Stop thinking so much about what is healthy or not,” He remarked as he took a pair of chopsticks from the paper bag. “I could hear your thoughts even with my headphones on and my back turned.”
“Then why tell me to choose if you already knew?”
Yoongi only shrugged as he took his first bite, prompting you to take yours. He seems to mull over something as he chews, staring at the food on the table for a while before placing the container down and leaving the room without a word.
You had learned not to question his confusing actions throughout the years, even then you couldn't help but be bewildered.
When he returned, he was carrying two drinks in one hand. Sprite and Kombucha. Settling back on his chair, he placed down the bottle of Kombucha in front of him before opening the can of sprite and placing it in front of you.
“I don't have any straws on me so you'll have to just chug it.”
People don't usually notice it but you think Jin and Yoongi are more similar in how they show their affections, just in different volumes. Seokjin’s care is always voiced out, always asking whether you want something or not and offering to do or make it for you while Yoongi just somehow always knows what you want and does it wordlessly. Both of them are always willing to provide.
If you had asked them for something as ludicrous as fried cotton candy with melted cheese on top, Jin would complain and express his disgust openly, ranting about the strenuous process while holding the handle of the pan and a spatula in the other while Yoongi would cook it without questioning your sanity.
Either way, it never fails to make your chest warm.
“Thank you, Yoongs.”
He suddenly takes a huge bite, bringing the container close to his face before humming out his response, easily flustered as ever.
You both eat your food in silence. With years of friendship under your belt, you have learned to enjoy the serenity Yoongi brings. It had been rough at the start, his quietness matched with his stoic expression had often led to misunderstandings where you often thought he thinks of you badly for being close to his brothers, especially after Jin’s confession.
He had confronted you once he heard it from Namjoon—who had immediately tattled onto his hyung after you had told him not to tell anyone—, saying he simply had problems expressing himself. You could remember how his hands, despite being entangled with each other, shook with his voice, could recall how he had forced himself to hold eye contact with you when he always had difficulties in holding one.
It was thoughtful and that was the first time you had felt the tingles of warmth in your chest. Teenage you had her feet swept off by a stuttering mess of a guy with eye contact issues.
Despite Jin being the first in the group to confess, Yoongi was the first to touch your heart.
“Why are you looking at me like that?’
You tilt your head. “Like what?”
A conflict of emotion crossed his eyes as he struggled to find the words but before he could, your phone vibrated from your pocket.
           [13:54] Guwon: I'm at the cafe close to your building
You almost choked on your spit, surprised by his message. His office was on the other side of the city, why would he drive so far just to get some coffee with you during work days? 
Love , a voice answers and you immediately waved it off.
There was no way he had fallen in love with you in such a short time. You have been on two dates with him yet he hadn't asked you to be his girlfriend when there's been multiple times throughout those days and nights he had the chance to do so.
During nights where you'd restlessly toss around on your bed, you found yourself facing one more problem outside of your friends.
You didn't notice when it started when Guwon began to make your stomach churn and it bothers you to the nines at how you were being suspicious of him.
Guwon is a genuinely nice guy with a legit and grand background from what you learned throughout the short time you've been hanging out, his case stories of helping out women stuck in abusive relationships and bringing justice to those the law has failed once proven true when you've typed his name on Naver. The man didn't deserve the doubt twisting in your stomach nor the aversion you were slowly gaining towards him.
Your conflicting feelings surrounding your friends' confessing and odd behaviors shouldn't be affecting your relationship with the man you will marry at some point yet it ended up doing so.
There was something foul and bitter simmering in your guts these days whenever you force yourself to think about him during your time. It burns like bile and tasted like betrayal, almost like unfaithfulness ; you try not to think hard on why you feel this way but it's hard not to when Jimin and Taehyung's jealousy keeps flashing behind your eyelids with every blink.
           [13:55] You: Oh wow, which one?
           [13:55] Guwon: The one on the left side, Areum Cafe.
           [13:55] Guwon: Are you free to get a cup of coffee with me?
           [13:56] Guwon: Sorry for springing this up on you
           [13:55] Guwon: I missed you🙁
“Who is it?”
“It's Guwon,” You say, scratching your head. “He says he's at the cafe down the road and wants to meet up.”
Yoongi placed down his food and stared at you, long and hard. Cat-like eyes narrowed and observing as he leaned back on his chair. You feel his eyes regard your body language before sighing.
“I assume you need help getting out? I'm not as… bold as the younger ones but I think I can help… somehow”
His appearance would surely help tamper down the discomfort that had bloomed with the recent revelations. Yoongi is intimidating as he is caring, having him next to you would ensure you a shorter time spent with the man, as well as prohibit him from pulling another surprise kiss on you.
But why are you so uncomfortable spending time with Guwon anyways?
You didn't have any problems before, even wanted to sleep with him the night prior so why now?
“How’d you know I need help?”
“You looked like your mother just told you to come to another date.”
Immediately, you ironed out the frown you didn't realize had marred your face. 
“I thought you would've been delighted you've finally met your match?”
“I-I am.”
Yoongi clicks his tongue, the sound echoing louder in the silence of the room. “Try again. A little more sure this time.”
You sighed and relented, knowing the man wouldn't let you take a step out of the door if you lied to him again.
“Everything just started feeling wrong for some reason.”
He raised an eyebrow at that, eyes widening with surprise. “How so?”
“You know, when Jimin and Taehyung came over last night to make sure I got home safe, they were acting strange towards Guwon.” When he made no move to respond, you continued. “When Guwon suddenly kissed me, Taehyung looked… scary. Jimin too, if you can believe it.”
“I actually do.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Yoongi goes silent again, mulling over something as his gaze finally met yours for the first time that day. “For someone so perceptive, you're a bit oblivious.”
“What is it?”
“I won't elaborate, I'll let you realize things on your own.”
You groaned, facepalming because ain't no way Yoongi just added more fuel to the forest fire that is your thoughts. The man doesn’t even look aware of what his words had done, reaching over and innocently sipping on his kombucha once more.
“Back to what you were saying, why do you think it felt wrong to see Guwon?”
With his calm voice and the deafening silence of the room, you found yourself comparing Yoongi, who even has his hands folded over his crossed jean-clad legs, to a therapist and laughed.
“Didn’t know I was due for a therapy session when I dropped off your lunch.”
“Well I did, so deal with it,” He placed down his bottle. “Do you need my help or not?”
“Is breathing important? Obviously yes.”
He nods and stands, but not before saying, “I hope you know this conversation is far from over.”
While his presence had given you more peace of mind, leaving the BigHit building with Yoongi—who had forgone his usual outdoor style of beanies and big prescription glasses matched with a black mask in order to appear more intimidating, claiming the beanie softens his edges, something you playfully rolled your eyes at—still felt like walking into your doom.
The moment he steps out of the building, suddenly everyone's eyes are on him. The cool stoicness surrounding him commanded attention and the people listened without complaint, not when Yoongi looked like every highschool teenager's bad boy wet dreams.
Strolling into the cafe is easier with Yoongi trailing behind you like a guard dog; or in his case, a guard panther.
There's something about having the rapper, who has never shown a hint of romantic attraction to you in all your years being their friend, accompanying you to meet the man you might marry once the discomfort born from conflicting feelings subsides. It makes your heart jittery and your stomach twisting uncomfortably, the nerves from meeting Guwon only adding fuel to the fire.
It felt improper somehow, as if you were breaking an invisible rule you're yet to uncover from the depths of your soul.
The tempting aroma of freshly baked buttery goods and roasted coffee beans greeted you the moment Yoongi had pushed the door open for the both of you. In the controlled volume of mixed chatters from different tables, a calm acoustic instrumental flies through the air and you almost forgot what you came here for. 
It didn't take long for you to find Guwon sitting on the table farthest from the entrance, secluded and away from the wide glass pane windows. When the door had opened with a chime, the man had raised his head from his phone and met your eyes. You try not to linger on how his expression stiffened when he realized you had Yoongi in tow before a smile wipes it away.
“You see him?” Yoongi’s voice grumbled from behind and you nod. Guwon stands, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor catching his attention. “That him?”
“Yeah, I don't think he's happy I brought you with me.”
He chuckled lightly. “Good.”
Guwon met you both halfway, arms opened wide to greet you with a hug and you let him. When you pull away, his hand casually falls to your waist and your skin scrawls . 
Immediately, Yoongi’s eyes drop to look at it but before any hint of emotion breaks onto his face, his cool eyes are already back on your suitor’s face.
“Which one of your kids am I given the pleasure of meeting this time?” Guwon asks before offering his free hand to Yoongi who had taken it with a carefully crafted blank expression and unrelenting stare.
Seeing him remain in eye contact with Guwon surprises you. The man, even after your years of being friends, had never held eye contact for longer than five seconds outside the time he had opened up to you about his struggle with expressing himself.
It made you curious. Why is he provoking him? Is he testing Guwon?
“I'm not one of her kids, I'm actually older than her. Min Yoongi.”
“Yoo Guwon, a pleasure to meet you.”
Even when both their hands had long pulled away from each other, their eyes lingered longer. Challenging on Guwon's part, and taunting on Yoongi's as he stared back, completely unfazed.
Seeing them silently engage in a dick measuring contest, something you didn’t expect Yoongi to ever partake in since he had been loud in his distaste for his own gender, irked you. The tightening grip on your waist didn't help, wanting nothing but to slap it off if it wasn't for your promise to your mother to not fuck this up.
‘If you don't tell them what you're uncomfortable with, then they'll continue on doing it. The other guys out there aren't like us who'd feel guilty if we knew, I fear that they might take advantage of you instead, noona.’ Hobi’s voice echoes in your mind.
Sorry Hoba, I'm trying to make this work. But if this behavior continues, then I'll listen to you.
“I thought you idols are often more busy than the average folk?”
Yoongi sucks air through his teeth before responding. “We were in the middle of a fitting prior. I hope you don't mind me keeping watch, can't have our staff getting distracted by heartthrobs like you.”
Guwon laughed, a little louder than usual.
“She's been telling you guys about me?”
“All the good things, don't worry.” He then turns to you, eyes searching your face for a hint of extreme discomfort before continuing. “I'll go order the others some food.”
Sparing one last nod of his head at the man next to you, Yoongi then turns towards the counter to order. The moment he was out of earshot, dread drops onto your stomach like an anvil and you looked up at the Guwon whose eyes were already trained onto yours, a lazy smile stretched on his lips.
“I assume you’ll be needed back once he’s done?”
“ Yeah, I’m sorry it's just… Wrong timing.”
He waves you off. “Nonsense, it’s my fault for bringing you out of your work. They won’t fine you for this, right?”
“I went with one of my bosses, of course they won’t.”
His eyes studied your face for a moment, searching. For what? You don’t want to know. When he had found whatever it was, his face melts into a softer, more mellow expression and your heart clenches. The outpouring of awe in his eyes felt heavy and thick, it clogs up your throat and weighs your already strained form.
“I missed you.” He whispers with the sweetest of voices. “Did you miss me?”
“I-I do, kept thinking about you...”
The lie weighted like lead on your tongue and burned like acid. Compared to the genuineness practically dripping from his lips, your words fall short in your ears. With the way his softened expression crumpled into a frown, you knew he also noticed the hesitance in your voice.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry. With the tour being so close and more sponsorship offers coming in, it got a bit stressful than usual.”
When his arms reach around your shoulders and pull you flush to his chest, you will yourself not to tense. You were both hugging in the middle of the coffee shop and you could feel the nearby patron’s stare pressing onto your body, judging and unpleasant. Embarrassment burns your cheeks and the desire to push him away grows.
Even Jimin and Taehyung doesn’t dare to get affectionate in public, none of your friends ever did anything more than a hand on your shoulder to lead you to the correct direction or a pat on the back when Jungkook had more sleep and food ingested, and and you just happen to be assigned to him that day.
You wanted nothing more but to tell him to back off but the words got stuck in your throat. 
“Just a tip, she doesn’t like PDA so maybe step away?”
Immediately, Guwon scrambles off of you. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Guwon says, his hand falling from your shoulder and down to your arm. You shivered.
A firm and familiar hand lands on your shoulder and Yoongi tugs you back to stand next to him. There’s a set in jaw as his eyes narrowed down at Guwon, the hand replacing Guwon on your arm is tense and rigid but not enough to hurt. 
You sensed that he had a lot to say once you were out of sight, all of them expressing his distaste for the man you’re set to eventually marry. Even when you were all standing there, you could already imagine the curses and nitpicked details pouring out of his lips.
“We’ll be going back now,” Yoongi says to Guwon, voice tight as if holding back his emotions as he curtly bowed. “Our leader is already demanding us to come back so we’ll have to cut this meeting short. It was nice meeting you.”
Guwon looked incredulous at the turn of events, eyes shuttering before he nodded in understanding and turned to flash a smile at you.
“Message me when you’re home, alright?”
Yoongi didn’t even linger long enough for you to respond, already walking away. By the time you turned to look at him, he was three gaits away from leaving the coffee shop. With a dip of your head, you sprint to follow closely behind the man now pushing through the door. 
You could understand the reason for his irritation, always the most protective out of the bunch and the one with the most to say about men. To see your closest female friend be made uncomfortable by her suitor, a stranger in his eyes, there was no doubt he’d be livid.
But why does he have to walk so fast?! 
You’re not physically built to match his pace, he takes one step and you have to do three. It was infuriating but you couldn’t exactly scream at him to slow down in public, catching the attention of other people would only create more problems than you both could take on
He eventually slows down to a halt in front of the double glass doors of the BigHit building and you were able to finally catch up to him. In the lobby, you both calmly approached the elevator, a complete juxtaposition of how hasty you two were not a moment before. 
But the moment the metal doors of the elevator shuts, isolating you and Yoongi from the rest, he begins.
“I don’t like him.”
It was stupid but you wanted to know what specific trait he had found irksome.
(Deep down, you knew you were finding a reason to stop, to let go of Guwon and stop this stupid charade.)
“He didn’t even notice you were uncomfortable earlier. When you told us that he’s good, I thought he’d be decent, not top grade bare minimum.”
“H-He was actually good, believe it or not.”
“So he's a pretentious prick?”
You sighed. “H-He just—”
“Hyung wouldn't approve.” Yoongi cuts in, his hardened eyes now piercing through yours, almost taunting you to bite back. “Not just him, everyone would. You'd break poor Jiminie’s heart if you continued seeing him once he found out how he acted today.”
You knew he was guilt tripping you and it was working. But you swore Guwon was better than the others, he had treated you with a gentleness and care your friends had shown yet something had changed after that night. 
Was Taehyung's clinginess, their presence in general, been the catalyst?
Had he felt threatened by them showing up? You had established early on that they're your boss and your mother would've mentioned your relationship with the boys in passing at least, so why would he feel threatened by them?
“I know what you're thinking but it doesn't work like that.” His voice, now softer than it had been earlier, pierces through the trance you’ve submerged into. “Even if you had said you’re only friends with them, it's human nature for us to still feel intimidated even if we're just friends.”
“That's dumb.”
He shrugged. “Men are dumb, I'm just slightly better than the rest.”
“That's debatable.” You joked and he raised an eyebrow.
“ Your taste is questionable.” He shot back and you hit his arm in response, making him laugh but it stopped as fast as it came. “I'm serious, hyung won't like it if you continue meeting Guwon.”
“I know, I can already hear him and we're not even there yet.”
“Don’t be dumb, if you want a husband so bad, tell aunt to wait for me to renew our contract next year and I'll marry you.” 
He meant it as a joke, you knew that, but you couldn't stop the butterflies in your stomach from fluttering wildly. You're suddenly reminded of a scene from years ago, his alcohol-flushed cheeks pulled taut by the dopey smile stretching his lips wide and his slurred voice admitting something you—until today—have no recollection of what had been uttered.
You both have been battered to the nines, drunken out of your minds and stumbling over the smallest rocks on the street by the time Seokjin and Namjoon had found you halfway home. It was a miracle you both got off unscathed with how giggly and dumbed down you were.
“Bold of you to assume I'd say yes.”
“I got wealth, I got a good mug on me, what else would you need?”
“Seokjin also got those.”
He pondered long and hard, sucking air through his teeth before he turned to you again with a playful glint in his eyes.
“You know what they say about my tongue right?”
He couldn’t say he didn’t expect the punch in the arm that followed soon after.
When the elevator door opens and you both go straight for the dance studio, the conversation about Guwon is put on pause and you dread the moment Seokjin hears what had transpired in the coffee shop when suddenly, Yoongi stills and hissed out a curse.
“ Shit , I forgot Jungkook’s muffins.”
141 notes · View notes
lilbitdepressed27 · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Jenna Ortega x Fem!CopReader
Summary: you are a cop and Jenna's girlfriend
Warnings: fluff, angst
WC: 2.8k
Author's note: hope y'all like it sorry for any mistakes:)
Jenna lived a very busy life. From her schedule going from barely busy to being offered rolls for every possible roll she could dream of. She knew accepting the roll of Wednesday was going to either make her or break her career. She knew accepting such a popular roll would bring her more attention. It had become rare when she had free time. From all the filming she'd have to do, to all the interviews and photo shoots. It had been so exhausting. Physically and mentally. There were moments where she'd cry herself in to a panic.
There had been only one person who could calm her down. And that was her girlfriend of two years and half. One call from her was enough to calm her down. Just to hear her girlfriend's voice was enough, even when she was thousands of miles away. She truly did love her job, there was nothing else she'd rather do. But there was moments where she wished it didn't take so much of a toll on her.
But the moment she was offered a moment of peace she'd hurry back to L.A. Like how she was right now, she was only a few minutes away from her shared home. Although she knew her girlfriend was still working. She couldn't wait to surprise you. You had no clue she was coming home today.
She'd never forget the first time she met you. The way you looked in your uniform was a sight that had her feeling like she was drooling. Seeing you in you uniform never got old. She remembers the day she first saw you like it had been yesterday.
The police had been called on to the set due to a fight breaking out between two crew members. She remembered the day clearly. How two cops had shown up, one being a tall white man. He had been an attractive man she won't deny it but nothing had prepared her for the tall woman that followed behind him. Never had she seen someone so attractive, so breath taking. The way your arms flexed when you had to physically restrain one of the crew members.
The moment her eyes connected with yours, it felt like it was love at first sight. Something she had never believed in before that was until she saw you. The small smile you had shot her way had her heart racing. She knew in that moment, you'd be someone special in her life.
And she wasn't wrong.
Upon arriving at your house, she saw that your truck was not parked in its usual spot. She had hopped that you'd be home by now, but now she could surprise you when you got home. Thanking her driver as she got her bags and headed to the front door.
She couldn't wait to surprise you, she could only hope that you weren't in any more danger. She had her updates on you by one of your coworkers that was of a sister to you.
*
It had been a long day at work. After you got attacked by a few guys, after a stop gone wrong. To being involved in a shot out. All that had happened in the first five hours of your shift. You were sore and bruised. And just so tired. It was good thing your captain gave you the next three days off. You loved being a cop. It had been your dream job since you were a kid. But getting shot at was something you'd never get used to.
"Go rest L/n, you earned it. The last thing we need is for your girlfriend to be angry at us like last time. Who knew she could be so scary." Your friend Aaron who was also police officer joked.
"Hey don't underestimate the short latinas now Aaron."
You chuckled at the newest rookie. Celina was such a great change into the department. You knew she'd be a great cop.
"I'll see you guys later." You bid your goodbyes with a laugh. You really couldn't wait to get home. To lay on your bed and sleep. Well after talking to your girlfriend of course. You missed her a lot, FaceTiming wasn't enough nowadays. But it was the only thing letting you see her beautiful face. She had been away filming for the new season of Wednesday. With her no longer being in Scream 7. She a had bit more free time.
So with that in mind you hurried your way home. With L.A traffic it had taken a bit longer for you to get back home. Feeling relief once getting to your house. You hated coming home to an empty house, the times Jenna would be at home you were quick to get used to her being there. Your home felt so alive when she was home. So the times she was gone, the house felt so empty without her.
Shutting the door behind you, you were only two steps in when you froze in your tracks when you saw the back door open. As a muscle memory you went for your gun that was on your hip. But came back empty seeing as you showered and changed back in the station. Your personal weapon was in a safe, in your room. That was upstairs.
With your training coming at you, you were quiet as you made your way further into the house. Clearing every room you passed. Hoping that your training officer Harper's hand to hand combat would come in handy. There was noise coming from your gaming room. Even with your job, you still had time to game for a few minutes.
But if someone was in your gaming room. You knew they were most likely stealing. You had expensive equipment in there. Equipment you bought and other things Jenna bought you. The lights in the room were off, the only light in the room was coming from the hall. Meaning you could only see the figure of the intruder.
Using the wall as cover. They seemed small, easy enough for you hopefully to intimate them and if they react you could take them down. That's if they had no weapons.
"Police freeze, don't do anything stupid." Using your police voice. One of authority. You had to turn on the lights. Make sure they didn't have any weapons before you could fully come out of your cover.
"Mmm what are you going to do with me Officer."
"Jenna?" You turned on the light, smiling when you realized in fact it was your girlfriend who you hadn't seen in person the past four months. You had her in your arms in seconds. Your arms wrapping around her waist, lifting her off her feet. Her squeal was like a blessing in your ears. Her own arms wrapping themselves around your shoulder. Returning your hug just as tight.
The kiss that followed was filled with some love and so much more. You couldn't believe she was here with you. You couldn't believe that after four months she was back in your arms. The pain and soreness from your day was completely ignored, and honestly forgotten.
"God I missed you so much." You pulled away resting your forehead onto hers. With her legs wrapping around your waist you led her to your shared room. Hearing laughter as you continued to kiss all over her face.
"Put me down. I know you're bruised. Angela called me. Let me see you."
You should have known. The woman you work with, the ones you looked up to, they were more like sisters. Angela, Lucy and Nyla. They had grown fond of Jenna and you knew your girlfriend had grown a bond with them. So it was no surprise they told her about what happened today. With a sigh you took of your shirt. Revealing all your bruises and scraps.
You heard her gasp at the bruises.
"Hey I'm okay. Nothing I can't handle."
But she stayed looking at your bruises. Her fingers hovered over the bruises afraid of hurting you. Once she had heard what happened from Angela. She had been quick to try and call you. It was no surprise that you didn't answer. When she couldn't reach you, she had gone straight to the internet. Seeing the short videos of you being attacked. The way you were brutally assaulted by those men. It scared her how often you came close to dangerous situations.
"It still scares me. I don't want anything to happen to you."
You pulled her closer to you, wanting to comfort her in any way you could. "Baby look at me." Taking her cheeks into your hands, pulling her gaze away from your body to your eyes. Offering a gente smile.
"I can't promise that nothing will happen to me but I can promise that I'll try my very best to come back to you." Lightly placing pecks on her lips till you felt her smile.
"I know but ugh why can't you just work for me as my bodyguard or something." She complained as looked up at you, her hands creasing your bare lower back.
With a laugh you lead Jenna towards your shared room. "How about you tell me how filming went?"
"No how about you use that police voice, officer. I've been very bad."
It was good thing you had the next few days off. Seeing as you didn't get any sleep, the ache and soreness of the day was completely forgotten at the sight of your beautiful girlfriend's body.
*
"Oh my god you look so cute!" Jenna had put on the documentary you had been in. The documentary had been about a once famous celebrity, he's rolls had dried up, leading him into making cult of the students he was teaching.
It was a whole thing.
You were in a seat in your dress blues, you honestly looked awkward. "No I don't! I look like I'm constipated." You protested you didn't want to do the documentary in the first place. But your captain had kinda forced you. Seeing as you were one of the first cops to arrive on the scene.
"No you don't. Such sexy cop and you're all mine."
Her arm that was wrapped around your waist tighten. Her head was that had been resting on your chest was lifted as she looked up at you. Her eyes full with so much love.
"All yours." The smile you got return had you feeling like you won the lottery. Her smile was like a light in a dark room.
Lightly kissing you before pulling away to watch the parts of documentary you were in.
"Why can't we watch Wednesday? I was getting to the good part." You played with her long wavy hair. Gently scratching her skull, feeling the way her body basically melted on top of yours. You could tell she was tired. The way her eyes were fighting the sleep. A part of you wanted to take up her offer of being her bodyguard. You knew she struggled to sleep when she was busy. At least if you were with her. You could make sure she actually rests and take care of herself.
But you also loved your job. You had worked hard to be in the position you were in now. Not to mention the family you had found. You couldn't just leave them.
"You know I hate seeing myself on screen." Her finger traced random shapes on your bare stomach. Making sure not to hurt your bruises. Being back in your arms was everything she had wanted for the past months.
"But I love seeing you in action I-" You let out a laugh at the sight of her raised eyebrow, the suggestive smile she shot your way. "Stop, get your dirty mind out of there." The actress only let out a laugh, her smile only growing, it was a sight you loved dearly.
Jenna laid her head back down on your chest. Looking back at the television seeing you answering questions with your 'police officer' look. It was a look she found attractive, you looked so serious, so professional.
"Officer Y/ln, you've been an officer for three years now. Was this your craziest experience?"
She watched as you let out a short laugh, "Not even close. But this was one goes down as probably one the weirdest."
"Oh what was the craziest?"
"Mmh I don't-Oh! Tell them about the time a party mistook you and Bradford as strippers!" Was heard from behind the camera.
You had prepared yourself for the full on belly laugh the actress let out. You had once told her about that incident. You had never been so mortified and embarrassed in your life. Hearing the filming crew laugh had you chuckling as you clearly saw the blush on your own cheeks.
"Oh my god I can't believe Lucy brought that up."
"Me neither. Tim was pretty embarrassed as well."
The rest of the day was spent with Jenna in your arms. Taking advantage of the free day you both had. You couldn't ask for anything more.
*
"Just be safe okay?"
You were now back at work. The days you had off had passed way too fast. Your lovely girlfriend was still at your house enjoying her own free time. You were working the night shift for the next few days, along side your partner. Leaving for work had never been so hard. A part of you didn't want to leave Jenna's side. You had been so comfy laying on the couch with her before you had to get up and leave for work.
"Y/LN! Let's go, we have to question victims of a drive by."
And with that you were of to do your job.
*
The sun set and it had become dark out. The street lights came on, the streets empty, as faint sounds of yelling and gun shots rang out. The two officers trying their best to escape the suspects of the drive by they had been called to investigate further. With the ammunition quickly running low and their radios down they had no other option but to run from the suspected killers. Running into an apartment complex hoping they'd find someone that could help.
~
Jenna sat back on the couch watching the documentary you were in once again. She couldn't get over how attractive you looked on tv. While she waited for you to get from work, she made herself busy, by cleaning the house(which she didn't have to do much. You're a clean person.)
She also texted you. You always texted back. Even if the text was short. Most of your night shifts were always quiet. So you'd respond to her in full length texts. And when you were actually busy a simple thumbs up emoji would settle her nerves. But the last text she sent you was thirty minutes ago. By this point she would have gotten a simple emoji. But she was yet to receive anything. You hadn't even opened the text.
She couldn't help but to worry, her gut was telling her something was wrong. So she called one of your coworkers. Angela. Hoping the older woman could settle her nerves.
~
More gun shots rang out, the two officers had tried their best. Doing everything they could possibly do with the little ammunition they had left. Yet at the end it had not been enough. They were still out numbered.
Cutting through an alley had not been the smartest decision on the officers part but yet they had no choice. The only sound they could hear was of the dogs barking aggressively, the sound of their boots hitting the wet hard pavement and their heavy breathing.
Those criminals were out for blood and it was the exact thing they were getting. As they drove in from the other side of the alley successfully shooting one of the officers.
The shooting stopped as one of the officers successfully put down the two criminals. Their moment of relief quickly came crashing down at the sight of their partner on the floor.
The cries, the begging for their partner to stay down, to remain calm felt like they echoed. The cries for help as their partner chocked on their blood before going limp. Completely unaware of the criminals sneaking behind.
The officer noticed a moment too late, not being quick enough to reach their gun before the gun fire rang out once again.
**
It was two hours after she got off the phone with Angela when there was a knock on the door. She had moved quickly to reach the door. Swinging it open when she saw that it was Angela on the security cameras.
Angela didn't have to say anything. The look on her face said it all.
"No. No. No."
The cry was filled with denial, pain, heartache. The older woman could try to comfort the short actress. Although there was absolutely nothing she could do.
You were dead.
Gone.
:(
309 notes · View notes
tip-top-cloud-surfer · 10 months
Text
Honey, I’m Home - Rooster
Pairing: Rooster / Wife!Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only
Warnings: Kids; Talk of Pregnancy but Not Actually; Excessive Fluff
Summary: Rooster comes home from work and takes care of his family.
Master List
Tumblr media
Rooster was always cautious about the idea of getting married and having kids. When he lost his mom, he pictured having a big family of his own one day. In a way, to recreate the family that he lost. But then adulthood caught up with him and insecurity creeped in. After everything that happened in his childhood, he knew the risks that came with being a naval aviator. He knew what could happen.
But there was no way that he could just let the woman who would go on to become his wife get seduced by some other unworthy sucker. He had to put a ring on her finger. There was no other option. And five years, a wedding, two kids, and a thousand other things in between, there was nothing that Rooster would have done differently.
Except marrying her the night that they met, perhaps.
And returning home after work, Bradley assumed that he would walk into Alex living out his whole terrible two phase even though he was now three while poor baby Nickie cried in the background. Bradley knew that his wife was exhausted. He knew that she was stressed. And he tried to pick up where he could.
But today, he was surprised to return to a quiet house. There was no screaming or crying. Neither the dishwasher nor the washing machine were running. And neither was the TV. Bradley walked further into the house, genuinely wondering if everyone was home when he finally spotted his family.
Nickie was asleep in his bassinet, little fists up by his head just in case if someone tried to wake him up, so that he could give them a smack. His wife laid with her head resting on her arm. Alex laid on his back with his head resting against her chest and his mouth wide open.
Bradley paused, taking more careful steps forward. He didn’t want to risk waking anyone up. They all needed their sleep.
Carefully slipping away, Bradley changed out of his uniform and into a tank top and shorts before moving around the bedroom. Picking up clothes and cleaning the attached bathroom, Bradley tried to help where he could. And when he was finished there, he headed into the kid’s bedrooms to clean up there as well.
He knew that something as small as cleaning up the toys on Alex’s floor would make his wife’s day easier and he tried to do as many small tasks as he could without the risk of waking any of them up. Running a load of laundry, Bradley walked into the living room to check on his family. With everyone still asleep, Bradley kept moving through the rooms in the house.
Checking his watch, Bradley had to assume that it was probably a better idea to just get takeout rather than risk waking his family up by moving the pots and pans around. Carefully grabbing his keys, he headed out to his car. Half an hour later, he returned with food from his wife’s favorite restaurant and slowly crept into the living room again. Everyone was still asleep, but the smell of food seemed to finally rouse his wife.
Picking up her head, she blinked blurrily and squinted towards the kitchen. She sat up a bit before she realized the position that she was in with Alex resting his head against her chest. Rooster walked over to his wife instead, both of them knowing better than to risk waking Alex. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her lips in greeting before pulling away.
“Have a good nap?” he asked softly.
“Seems like it,” she yawned, looking down at Alex with a small smile. “I can’t even remember how we ended up here.”
“I bought dinner. Your favorite.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, resting her head against her arm again as she stared up at her husband. “I didn’t realize how tired I was.”
“They’re a handful.”
“You think?” she replied softly, causing Bradley to grin.
She hummed to herself before Alex started to stir against her chest. After a couple moments, he eventually woke up, whining as he rubbed his eyes dramatically.
“Hey, Bubba, are you hungry?” Rooster questioned, gently picking Alex up.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, curling up against Rooster’s shoulder.
“Alright, let’s get you some food and then back to bed, okay?”
Bradley helped Alex eat his food and once he gave Alex some water to wash it down, got him changed and into bed before Alex could fully wake up and cause a ruckus. Nickie stirred a bit but it didn’t take too much more to settle him to sleep in his crib.
And for the first time in a long time, Bradley and his wife actually sat down and ate dinner together. Just the two of them.
“I almost forgot what this was like,” she mused, reaching for her glass. “It’s been so long since it was just the two of us.”
“You know, maybe I can rope Mav into watching them for a weekend. We’ll go to a nice hotel or rent a house. And just spend the weekend in bed together.”
She shot him a look and playfully threw a scrunched up napkin at his face. Shaking her head, she reached for her glass again.
“Only if you promise to not knock me up again so soon after Nickie,” she stated. “You’ve had that look in your eye like you want another one.”
“I would eventually like another one. Hopefully a girl,” Rooster conceded, though he shot you a reassuring smile. “But you’re the quarterback. You make the final call.”
“I’ll keep you in mind for later,” you told him.
Rooster jokingly made the phone symbol with his hand and mouthed, ‘call me,’ to which you dramatically winked back.
The two of you finished your dinner together before heading up to your room. You took a quick shower while Rooster checked up on Nickie, whose bassinet was set up next to your bed. Rooster was waiting with the blanket pulled back for you. Slipping in beside your husband, you let him pull you to his chest. You were out in about fifteen seconds, still exhausted, and Rooster chuckled to himself when you started to snore, since you insisted that you never ever snored.
Rooster was about to fall asleep himself when there was a light tap on the door. Picking his head up, Rooster gently maneuvered you over so that he could slip out of bed. He walked over to the door and pulled it open to reveal Alex with his blankie in the hallway.
“Can I sleep with you and Mommy?”
“Come here, Bubba,” Rooster urged, scooping him up.
Pressing a kiss to Alex’s head, Rooster carried him over to the bed. Rooster set his son down on the bed and Alex quickly suctioned himself into Rooster’s wife’s side. Rooster brushed his son’s hair with his hand before he climbed back into bed and got himself comfortable. Smiling as he looked over at his family, Rooster rolled over and went to bed.
953 notes · View notes
should-be-sleeping · 1 year
Text
Tough day today... and friendly reminder that being human is easier when we help each other.
I saw one of our neighbors, an older woman we sometimes talk to in passing, sitting outside of her house. I don't know what exactly made me look twice, but on second glance as we drove by I realized her walker was in the grass. She was otherwise just sitting there, like she had a thousand times before, so it would have been easy to assume she was fine and go on with my life as normal but something told me to go check in on her anyway.
She was not fine. She was the polar opposite of fine. Just diagnosed with terminal cancer not fine. No next of kin not fine. A veteran facing eviction from her house for missing rent while in the hospital not fine. In constant debilitating pain not fine. Only semi-lucid not fine. She was extremely alone not fine.
I thought, at most, she might be bored while unable to pick up her walker not fine. A five minute detour from my day not fine. A help her back into her house and say "see you later!" not fine. Instead I spent the last three hours with her because she was so scared and alone and no one should be alone.
We talked a lot while I was there. She's actually two years younger than my mom (who also has cancer but slightly better luck, I guess). I helped her into her house and got her a drink and we talked about what all is going on with her. None of it was good. I was as reassuring as I could be, but there's only so much of this I can actually help her with.
"Why did you come?" she asked through tears.
"Because you looked like you might need some help."
She called me an angel. I told her I was just doing my best. I told her that kindness should never be rare. That we should all try to make the world just a little bit better than it was.
She offered to pay me but I told her I was just there as a friend. Before today we were basically strangers. No need to repay me with anything other than her company, I assured her. She cried, a lot. I managed not to somehow. Something tells me she had needed to cry long before this but in being Strong she never had the chance to.
She needed to get her mail, which is a long walk when you're disabled because it is not at all handicap accessible (across a parking lot, over a bridge, across a small field). So I helped her get her mail. We stopped every three feet because her pain was so bad, but she was determined to be able to go do this with me and not just send me on an errand. I patiently stayed with her and reminded her, through her apologies, it was fine to take our time: there was a nice breeze and birds were singing. She appreciated this. She loves nature.
Halfway back she said she wanted to go to the pool. To put her feet in the water. She loves water, and has not been able to even see the pool in a month. Neither of us were dressed for swimming, but I took her to the pool anyway. There is a stair leading down to it, meaning she couldn't bring her walker, so I offered her my arm.
We went to the pool. She put her feet in the water and then, with more energy and enthusiasm than I'd seen the whole time, she jumped in. In her fancy dress! She was instantly ten years younger at least, clear and happy, floating in the sun. Dress and all. She grew up with a pool and had been on a swim team.
I sat by the edge of the pool while she swam, keeping her company and also making sure she was okay. When she got tired I took her back home and then had to help her get undressed and redressed. I made sure she felt no shame. Getting out of wet clothes is hard for anyone, let alone someone with like twenty pounds of tumors racking them with constant pain.
She was so fucking happy to have gone swimming.
She is trying to "make everything right" before she goes. Trying to repay her debt to society and her debts in general. She couldn't understand why the corporation that owns our houses wouldn't take her money. She was genuinely distressed -- not to be homeless on her deathbed but to not leave this world with a clean slate. I told her intent matters. She can only do her best.
This company not letting her repay her debt was their fault, not hers.
When I finally needed to go, I told her to let me know any time she needed a hand or just wanted company. She told me she was going to die tonight. I told her I hoped not, so I could see her tomorrow. I offered her a hug, we hugged and she sobbed for a solid ten minutes into my shoulder. I told her she was okay. That it was okay.
When I got home I cried myself, because I could not believe she was going through all of that alone. I cannot even imagine how isolated she must have felt. Once I pulled myself back together I sent her a text reminding her to reach out any time and I'd do my best to come over. Like, any time at all.
I hope she is here tomorrow.
907 notes · View notes