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#I wonder what the coffee shop would be called
empress-of-hugs · 1 year
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Thinking of writing a coffee shop AU, but not one of *those* kinds of coffee shops. I mean the weed kind.
Yes, I'm Dutch.
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natugood · 6 months
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I love just sitting and working in small, local coffee shops for hours at a time. Even though it’s hard for me to sit still, it’s really fun to get to see all the people who come in and to get a better sense of the community as a whole. I love half listening to conversations, seeing how people interact with each other and with the baristas, and who even is drawn to the location in the first place. I don’t usually feel like paying $2 - $6 for a coffee or tea is really worth it except on special occasions, but the value of getting to be around people in a pleasant, safe, open environment like that really adds so, so much value to the experience. I like to feel connected to the people around me, so it makes me happy!
#I had to get a new key for my car and my headlight replaced so I walked to a random coffe and boba shop in a shitty looking strip mall#that was about 10 mins away from the car dealership. I was there for 2 hours and two small groups of people came in during that time#first over the first 15-20 mins I was there three or four men in their 30s -50s came in and were talking with the barista#I discovered that the barista (also a 30-50 year old man) and all of the men were part of the local Slavic community#cause they were speaking what I think was russian (I only know how to say yes and no in russian and I heard those words lol)#they talked for about 30ish mins before each man left individually. the shop was empty for about 15 mins before an elderly couple came in#their friend Jim joined them - they seemed to be regulars possibly - and they talked for about 20 mins and were still talking when I left#when I took a phone call it directed to my hearing aides and they thought I was taking to them so after I was done I apologized#they were very nice snd chatted with my briefly about my aides and people thinking I must be talking to myself with them (which DOES happen#but also I do talk to myself out loud all the time lol) and when I left the coffee shop I said bye to the barista and the elderly group#they all said bye back. it was such a pleasant experience#it was also SO different than I expected cause the coffee shop not only does coffee but also does bubble tea and matcha???#so I assumed it would be an Asian owned business not a Russian/Slavic one lol#overall a great experience. 10/10. a wonderful way to start the morning#googoogajoob
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kentopedia · 2 months
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nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.
so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.
still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.
the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.
he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.
because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.
it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.
naturally, no one came back twice.
he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.
though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.
by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.
by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.
on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.
he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.
“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”
“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“
but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.
“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”
a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”
though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.
“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“
“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”
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jaysgirlx · 1 month
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"Need help sweetheart?" Bookstore Customer!Jason Todd helps you reach the books on the higher shelves. You were his favorite employee and he wanted to make your day easier. He'd been coming here for a while but you always forgot how tall he was and how good his body felt pressed against yours. You only knew how to mumble out a couple words because you didn't know what else to say to a man like that. "Uh sir, you don't need to-"
"Please call me anything but sir sweetheart, you know I'm not new here"
Bookstore Customer!Jason enjoyed teasing his favorite employee aka you of course. He teases you about working at the bookstore even though he's constantly there and he'll always be flirting with you even if you're working the counter that day. He knows he's holding up the line but he's a paying customer so he doesn't care.
"How's my favorite pretty girl doing?"
"M'tired today Jay, I can't handle your nonsense right now"
"Okay that was mean- wait, Jay? that's a first"
"Buy a book or get out Jason"
You could easily tell Jason liked classics and poetry but for some reason he was willing to read your favorites even if they were a smut-filled mess. One time, he backed you up into a corner, after reading one of those books you liked, "Hmm, you like this kind of shit baby? cause I can do all that to you and so much more"
Over time, you learned that Jason also likes to follow you to the store, whispering to you about all the things he could do to you if you'd let him. His hand is always on your hips, pressing his body fully into you. He knows you like it especially when you roll your hips into his when nobody's looking. He wishes you'd use your words and just say you were his but he knew he wasn't even close to getting that, at least not yet.
Jason tried to buy a new book every week, sometimes not even to read. He needed an excuse to be there since your boss has never been fond of him ever since he had caught him feeling you up near the back shelves once. He learned his lesso so now he purposefully buys the books you like, just so he can watch you ramble on and on about them without getting kicked out of the store.
Bookstore Customer!Jason thrived on the feeling he got from watching you go from being so nonchalant around him to the most talkative girl in the world. he wants you comfortable if he's going to fuck you. You find yourself shutting up one time because you thought you had bored him but he quickly gets rid of that thought for you, "Keep talking sweetheart, I'm just wondering how pretty your mouth would look with my cock stuffed down your throat"
"Jay I don't- I can't- I haven't-"
"Don't worry, you will and I'm sure you're a fast learner"
It wasn't that hard for you to notice that Jason got a little jealous when his brother Dick hits on you the first and last time he brings him to the bookstore. Dick easily chats you up and Jason watches the two become a bit too friendly for his liking but it wasn't his place to speak, "Now I see why my little brother brings home so many books"
"It's good he does, I like guys who read"
"I actually quite the fan of classic literature-"
"Oh shut up Dick"
Bookstore Customer!Jason had all your coworkers wondering if you'll ever let the poor guy hit. They weren't sure if Jason was interested in you or your body, regardless they couldn't ignore the smile you got whenever he walk in. Or the way you'd laugh at his dumb jokes. You had him on a leash and you didn't even know what to do with him. He's begging to take you out or just even spent a night with you. He didn't just want you, he needed you. "C'mon I promise to take care of you princess, I'll even take you to that little coffee shop in Bludhaven"
"Who told you about that?!"
"…Dick"
When he finally manages to convince you to let him kiss you, you're nervous as fuck. You thought this was just another one of his antics but no, this was real. He'd promised to stop hitting on you if you felt nothing and you should've know it was bad idea when you could hear your own heartbeat still your let his lips touch yours. It was such a bad idea because before you knew it, he's got you pushed up against the wall, leg parting your thighs with your hands gripping at his shirt. "Jay, more please" Suddenly after all this time, you're pleading for him. Oh how the tables have turned. You're begging for all he's got, and you know he has so much more to give.
"Just give me a moment baby, got be patient" Within a matter of minutes your pants are discarded on the floor, and your panties are still on but being pushed aside while two fingers are being pumped in and out of your pussy. He's got one hand on your hips holding you down while one of your legs is wrapped around his waist. "Didn't I tell you I could do some much for you baby?"
You nod quickly while he's sucking on your poor neck, that would definitely be red all tomorrow. you feel his teeth sink into your skin, not too hard but rough enough to leave a mark. "Now keep quiet, I don't want any of your coworkers hearing us back here" The next thing you know you're cumming on the boy's fingers and he wants you to do it again. and again. and possibly 50 more times if you're willing.
The next time Jason comes, he's holding what you think is flowers and you know he'll be your victim today.
"So I thought real flowers would be cheesy and you'd probably not want to take care of em, so my brothers taught me how to make these paper flowers and…here just take them"
"Wow, I'm getting hand-crafted flowers from THE Jason Todd? Someone must have a really big crush on me huh? Are those bandaids on your fingers? Want me to kiss your boo-boos? "
"Are you going to finally go out with me or do I have to make you cum-"
"Yes yes! Just do not finish that sentence out loud"
"You are soooooooooo in love me"
"Jay, get out"
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andersonlore · 2 months
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❝ TATTOO ARTIST!ELLIE ❞ ✶ ELLIE WILLIAMS !
★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, fem!reader, wlw sex, poc!friendly, switch!reader, switch!ellie, tbh loser!coded ellie, scissoring, ellie being soft and cute and love struck, tattoo artist!ellie, mentions of oral.
RAY RAMBLES ✶ i'm still feeling out writing for ellie, so be nice to me pls, this is the first thing i've posted for her. if not, i won't write for her again jk but seriously dont be mean to me
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tattoo artist!ellie who you meet due to her forgetfulness. her black, leathered notebook gets left behind when she meets a friend at a local coffee shop. there’s a business card of a tattoo shop and you decide to take your chances with it and call the number. thankfully, it pans out to be the owner’s notebook. she, ellie, has apparently been tearing apart her apartment trying to find it. her voice floods all over as she whispers thank you just shy of a thousand times, her grateful pleas drip like honey all over you, sweetening you right through your core.
tattoo artist!ellie who is stunned from the first sight of you. the outfit you have on isn’t anything special, out of the ordinary, not it really isn’t but she can’t help the way her eyes wonder over. you have some tattoos which are visible, adding to the draw she feels towards you. soft shoulders are exposed in the strapless top you’re wearing, but your pants are bagging, hanging lowly at your hips, exposing a sliver of your lower stomach to her green, greedy eyes. a new, sultry and velvet, voice speaks her name and ellie knows she’ll do anything and everything to hear it again.
tattoo artist!ellie who gladly walks up to you, accepting the her notebook, desperately attempting not to fixate on the tingle spreading in her heart when she feels your soft finger slightly rub against the tip of her thumb. your sharp, gorgeous eyes look ellie once over before you offer her a smile, blinding ellie to any logical sensibility. do you like her? are you pleased? do you think she’s pretty too? is your heart beating or your fucking chest? are you having trouble breathing like she is?
tattoo artist!ellie who begins to blush profusely as you compliment her tattoos on her exposed bicep with the muscle tank she’s wearing. ellie doesn’t think it’s anything more than you being nice, returning the compliment you gave her, but then you’re touching her. nails painted with black nail polish, shiny but chipped, accentuate the line work. ellie wants to faint. jesse is sitting at the stool on the front counter and lets out a small chirp of a giggle, ellie thinks about punching him in the gut, but it means she would have to walk away from you so she opts out.
tattoo artist!ellie who does something out of the ordinary for her, offers for you to come by next week, saying you’ll tattoo her for a discounted price, something she would never agree to if you weren’t so hot, god if you don’t like her she thinks she’ll puke. but you agree, with your touch still on her slim, but defined bicep. the smirk you’re sporting makes the auburn haired girl nearly faint. evidently, you know just how to pull on her strings. you step in closer to her frame, kissing her sweetly on the cheek and she’s just as soft as you imagined. i’ll definitely take you up on your offer, els. see you next week.
tattoo artist!ellie who is paying close attention as she starts the line work. you came in wanting it down on your back, so ellie focused her attention on preparing the ink when while you situated yourself. by the time ellie had turned around, you were shirtless the side of your breasts exposed as she began. mentally, trying to convince herself she capable of being professional and not thinking about your tits in her mouth. the longer it went on, the more you talked, and the bigger ellie’s crush became.
tattoo artist!ellie who sports a sheepish smile when you start asking her about her life, how she became a tattoo artist, how long she’d be doing it, what were her least favorite designs to do. you ask about twenty question before the one you really want to ask.
“so, no girlfriend?” you wished you could see her, try to gage her reaction, her facial expressions, a smile or a grime? was she looking at you like she wants to eat you alive?
“no, but why not ask me if you have a boyfriend?”
“you’re not the type. am i wrong?”
all ellie does is smirk, shaking her head and clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth obnoxiously, yeah she’s not the type.
tattoo artist!ellie who finished but not without difficulty. you love to talk, usually ellie would find it irritating when she’s trying to focus but on you it’s cute. she asks if you want to see it, and you simply agree. you turn your back to the mirror, your chest fully exposed and ellie looks anywhere but or tries to. she focuses on your angel sent smile and the look of glee as you admit how much you love it to ellie. or els, she tries not be too excited about how happy you are about it.
tattoo artist!ellie who isn’t sure how it happened, how you’re even into her, but she says enough of the right things to get you into her car and back to her apartment. you’re pushing her against the door pressed against her sinfully, peppering playful bites as ellie fishes for her keys. you follow her into her home, her tongue pleading for dominance over hers and she really doesn’t put much of fight.
tattoo artist!ellie who moans as you sit your cunt on top of hers. it’s delicious the way you have her putty in your hand from the initial grind. your clit catching with hers, her strong hands finding your hips, thumb with a bruising pressure, as pause. ellie is going to ask what’s wrong but before she can, you’re spitting on her cunt, a string of saliva, your perfectly wet concoction, halts as it travels down her labia and your sinking slick first, moaning out a soft oh, fuck, els you feel perfect.
tattoo artist!ellie who loves to watching your tits bounce for her as you slowly pick up the pace, the tattoo on your sternum perfectly placed between them only fuels the stickiness between ellie’s thighs. she lets you create the pace, control her to your liking.
“do you like to be, uh oh- fuck, choked?” you ask as feel yourself lost it, the smacking of your slick combined with her spurring you on.
ellie grabs your hand, placing your delicate fingers along her delightful throat, “what do you think, babygirl?”
tattoo artist!ellie who is quite literally getting off on getting choked by you. the light pressure on her neck, combined with you rubbing against her pussy hips falling over her again and against has her clit throbbing. you’re so painfully hot it, claiming her, riding her pussy, whimpering out els els els, make me cum, please baby, i’m right there. yeah? are you there with me, baby?
tattoo artist!ellie who comes right along with you. she swears she sees the creator from above for a moment, flashes of white cloud her vision as you continue to fuck her, pulling every last drop until it’s spilling over your cunt, it’s not until then are you satisfied. you collapse on her, your breasts softly smashed against her own, a whine leaving your lips, hot breath on ellie’s ear nearly makes her buck up back into you.
“c’mon, get this pretty ass up and arched. have to taste this pretty pussy before it kills me not to.” ellie whispers but the two of you know it’s not a request, it’s a command. happily, you obey.
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luveline · 4 months
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hi bae, just wondering if you could write something like roommate!marauders and reader with anxiety where everytime one of them goes out she gets really worried that’s somethings gonna happen to them and waits up for them and just feels like a burden when she calls to make sure they’re alright and just general anxiety things and them being so sweet about it
love u
love u too♡
cw death related anxiety
“Hey, Remus?” you ask tentatively. 
Your housemate lays across the sofa with his dinner half eaten on the coffee table and a book tented on his chest. He's ignoring both in favour of the television, a rerun of Family Fortunes turning the sofa cushions and his pale skin a light blue. 
He drags his blue-tinged gaze from the subtitles to your frowning. “What's wrong?” he asks. You're surprised he heard you over the sound of Sirius’ stereo echoing down the stairs. 
“Where did James say he was going?” 
“I think he said he'd be at the gym for an hour now he's not in work. Want me to call him?” 
“Why would you call him?” you ask, instead of saying yes, please, like you want to. 
“You're worrying again.” 
They know how you are. It doesn't mean they have to understand —it isn't logical to think James is hurt because he hasn't been home today yet, and none of them are required to humour you in your worry, but they always do. 
You feel sick as he takes his phone from his pocket. You've convinced yourself that James is dead, that his car curled around a bend too quickly on the drive in the rain, or that something happened at the gym, or that he never made it there at all, had a fit in the car park outside of work. Even as you think it, you know it's implausible, unlikely, just a repetitive negative anxiety worming its way into your head, but you can't make it stop. 
James doesn't answer the first time, which doesn't help, and then when he does answer the second time you're waiting for bad news. Remus smiles as he talks. “Hello? Jamie?”
James doesn't need speak phone to be heard. “Remus! I'm at the gym, what's happening?”
Remus wrinkles his nose. “What's happening? Since when do you say that?”
“What's up?” James corrects. “I'm on my way out of the gym, can you talk? You can keep me company while I drive.” 
Remus holds out the phone to you. 
“Remus?” James asks into the room. You take the phone before he can hang up, and decide to be honest, but the words get stuck like toffee between your teeth. “Hello?” 
“Hey,” you say, sending Remus a grateful look. He moves over to make room on settee for you, and his arm wraps familiarly around your shoulders as you settle in. He turns his attention back to his show. 
“Oh my god hey, angel. Remus okay?” 
“I was making him ring you, sorry. I thought… you know what I'm like. It's getting late and you aren't home, and I know I don't have the right to pester you about where you are.”
“Yeah you do,” James says, his voice louder, like his mouth is very close to the microphone. “Course you do. I'd worry too if you weren't home yet.” 
“I do this all the time, though.”
Just last week he and Sirius were out late and you'd panicked that they'd both been hurt. You stayed up until almost one in the morning waiting for them to get home from a music shop in the city, each minute after eleven like a shot of ice water in your veins. Sirius jumped when he saw you waiting in the living room, but then he'd given you a hug and rubbed at your shoulders roughly. You didn't wait up for us, did you? 
“It's worse lately, yeah?” James asks. You hum non-committal, and Remus gives you a squeeze in typical Remus fashion. You hadn't even realised he was listening, but his support makes this easier. “You're worrying about us more.”
“Yeah,” you say. “I don't know why. And it sucks because I know it's making me a lot to deal with.” 
“I would one thousand percent prefer it if you rang me then sat there worrying. That would make me feel better. And Remus and Sirius feel the same way, okay? We could all stand to ring each other a bit more anyways.” 
You rub your nose into your hand. “Sorry,” you mumble. 
“There's no need to be. I love you, ‘n I just want you to be happy. If a phone call can make that happen then why shouldn't you do it? And it's not like they're a big imposition, I like talking to you. We all do.”
James is home from the gym what could only be ten minutes later, and he leans over the back of the settee to kiss your forehead chasely. “Here we are, all safe and well.” 
“You haven't seen Sirius yet,” Remus points out.
“I can bloody well hear him. What is he listening to? Is that U2?” James shakes his head in disgust. “I can see why you were so worried I wasn't coming home. Let me go put a stop to that immediately.” 
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lihhelsing · 6 months
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“Hey!”
The next customer has chocolate brown eyes and long curly hair. He’s kind of cute, Steve thinks. 
“Hi! What can I get started for you?” 
The guy looks at him expectantly and Steve is a little confused but he keeps his smile plastered and waits. The order will come in time.
After a long minute, the guy’s smile falls a bit but he ends up asking for a black espresso. 
“You got it. What’s the name?” 
Now it looks like Steve just offended the guy. He tries to think if this is someone who has been to the shop before but Steve knows for a fact he’d remember him.
The guy coughs to cover his shock and murmurs “Eddie,” before walking away without looking at Steve again. 
Eddie, he thinks. It doesn’t ring any bells and the guy definitely stands out. Steve would've noticed him, for sure.
Steve feels bad anyway. The guy wasn’t flirting, he just said ‘hey’, but he wasn’t not flirting either. 
Was Steve that oblivious? 
There’s no line in the shop right now, so he decides to make Eddie’s coffee himself.
When he calls his name he slides a chocolate muffin, too.
“I didn’t order that,” Eddie says, not looking at Steve. 
“Oh, it’s on the house! Just enjoy.” 
Eddie frowns at him as if he can’t quite understand Steve. He huffs out a breath and picks up his things before walking away. 
Steve clicks his tongue. Maybe he’s just having a bad day.
The thing is, Steve can’t keep his eyes off of Eddie now. He sits there and eats his muffin alone. He checks his phone a few times and even types on it but seems frustrated after a while. 
Steve wonders if he got stood up on a date or something.
It wouldn’t be the first time. A lot of people usually come for first dates at the shop. Steve finds it cute and he usually tries to help when he can. Offers something sweet as a treat for them to share or something. 
But lately he’s been seeing a lot of people getting stood up
It makes him a little sad, to be honest. People will sit there for forty or fifty minutes before shyly getting up and walking away, their coffees cold and just half drunk. 
Eddie seems to be another victim of that. He picks at his muffin and sips his coffee.
Steve has to fight the urge to say anything. What would he even say? He doesn’t even know who Eddie was waiting for although he does seem the type to date guys. 
Maybe he could drop a cup with his number on it. It worked before, it could work again.
Before he can change his mind, Steve does exactly that. He walks around the counter and clear some tables before making his way to where Eddie is sitting. 
He smiles, “are you all done?”
Eddie looks up at him and blushes furiously. It’s cute. 
“Uh… yeah, thanks.”
Steve grabs the trash and drops the cup with his number written on it. 
“It’s on the house, too.” 
Steve winks. Hope it wasn’t too cringe and walks away before Eddie can react. He can do whatever but Steve would be really sad if he just ignored his number.
After a few minutes, Eddie walks back to the counter. He looks at Steve with a frown again. Steve kind of wants to run his fingers on it to smooth it down. 
“What’s your damage?” Eddie asks out of nowhere. Steve frowns.
Had he read it all wrong? Had he offended Eddie somehow??
He didn’t look like a homophobe but then again Steve had been wrong before about that. 
“Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, I just-“ 
Eddie scoffs “didn’t mean to offend…? That’s really funny. You’re a funny guy, Steve.” 
Steve is so confused now. He’s pretty sure he didn’t say his name to Eddie. 
“I’m… sorry? I’m a little confused.”
“Well, that makes two of us.” 
“Eddie, I’m not sure-“
“You’re not sure? I’m not sure about you. You act all weird like you don’t know me and then you try to give me a fake number?”
“I… I don’t know you! And it’s not a fake number, it’s my real number. I don’t know what…” 
“Yeah? Well, let’s see.” 
Eddie picks his phone and dials the number Steve gave him. 
Steve is confused but he raises his phone and shows it when Eddie’s number flashes on the screen
“See? Real number,” Steve shrugs. 
Eddie looks surprised. 
“So what’s this number?” 
Eddie shows him his phone and there it is, Steve’s picture on a contact of a number he doesn’t recognize. He instantly feels bad for the guy. He’s been catfished.
“Oh… I’m sorry, that’s not me. I think someone was messing with you.” 
Eddie gets bright red again. He pulls his phone back as if he’s been burned. 
He mutters something that sounds like an apology and darts out of the door before Steve can stop him.
He feels sorry for the guy.
Someone clearly wanted to embarrass him if they sent him to Steve’s real workplace. 
As much as his brain wants to linger on Eddie, his thoughts get interrupted by the evening rush of people in the coffee shop. Robin will be in soon but until then Steve has to manage it by himself and Eddie slips his mind.
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rklve · 7 months
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RAINY DAYS | JEON JUNGKOOK - PART ONE
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summary: your life choices left not only yours, but jungkook's heart broken in peaces. now you're back in town, and just like pluto, even if it's cold and dark, he tends to orbit around his sun forever.
➣ pairing: jk x f!reader
➣ genre/au: exes to lovers; angst; slow burn; fluff; smut (eventually).
➣ 3.4k words
warnings: e2l. oc broke koo's heart :( but she did not mean it. they both overthink too much. jk is such a pet dad (BAM IS HERE YAY). oc is a confused mess. mutual pining. cursing. a lot of angst (sorry!). jungkook is a simp, head over hells crazy about oc. fluff bc why not. tae is bitter asf but he's right on this one. jk is the best boy I WANT HIM!!!!!!!!!!
song inspo: rainy days — V
wish I knew how to find the way right back to you, on rainy days like
part one | part two | drabble one
“I can't take it anymore,” Jungkook says as he stumbles for the seventh time on his feet walking around the living room “I’m losing my mind, Bamie.”
The dog looks at his owner with his head pointed sideways as if he understands what he’s been sorrowing about for the past 10 minutes. The rain pours angrily outside the apartment, Jungkook sighs as he realizes talking to his big ass puppy won’t solve any of his problems.
“She’s like, 5 min away from us, Bam! I should text her, right?”
He looks over his phone again, your instagram story is open and a picture of a window full of raindrops is seen — he knows where you’re at, you’ve both been to that coffee shop over a hundred times for the past years now. Can’t remember the last time he’s been to that place ‘cause he couldn’t stand the thought of being there without you. Now he’s wondering, wondering, wondering. Wonders if you’re back for real this time. If you are alone. If you are thinking about him too. Wonders what would happen if he just replied your story right now.
@jeonjk97: heard it’s the best caramel macchiato in town 👍
No— that’s too lame. Quickly erases the message.
@jeonjk97: want a ride home? it’s pretty bad outside. 
Throws his phone on the sofa as he realizes he doesn’t know if you would accept his offer, doesn’t know if you’re sharing an apartment with Lola again either. Realizes he doesn’t know anything that’s been going on with you for a while now. More than what you let your 897 followers on Insta know too, at least. Blames himself for it, but knows it was for the best. Misses you like a fucker anyway.
“I should just call her.”
He picks up his phone, then also realizes he deleted your number months ago so he wouldn’t call you whenever his drunk ass thought it was the right thing to do. 
“For fucks sake, grow some balls, Jungkook” he whines angrily at the air purifier as if it is the source of his problems. “Okay, Taehyung will know what do.”
He calls his best friend quickly, and prays Taehyung picks up before he grabs his car keys and drives himself to the colorful little cafe at the end of the street. Remembers how much you loved that place and the cookies they served. One caramel macchiato with extra topping and two medium chocolate cookies. You always ordered the same thing. Every damn time. Said it was in you, to never let go of the things you loved. You let go of him anyway.
“Jungkook-ah! Why are you calling? I told you I can't go out—“ 
“She’s back in town.” He cuts Taehyung abruptly and suddenly the other line is mute as well. Probably doesn’t believe it’s happening just as Jungkook didn’t believe himself minutes ago. 
“Man, are you sure? Like, back for real?” he says, and Jungkook swears he can hear the disbelief in his tone from the other side. Yeah, he knows Taehyung is full of his late night calls to talk about you. Knows he is the one that’s been listening to it for months now —besides from his dobermann, of course— he’s the one who gets it, ‘cause he’s the only one who feels bitterly betrayed too. You were one of his best friends and yet, he didn’t knew your plans to move out from Busan as well. 
“Aish, I’m not sure hyung. But she posted a picture a little while ago at the cafe down the street.” he blurted out, “Can’t even think straight now, man. You think she’s back for the holidays?” 
Taehyung wondered for a little while. It was still August, Chuseok was weeks later. He didn’t say it out loud, but it wasn’t like you to drop work for so long, even if it was to visit your hometown. Nevertheless, he didn’t want Jungkook to get his hopes up. He knows how he is. Doesn’t want to see his friend’s heart breaking all over again.
“Mmm. Maybe, don’t know.” he sighed out loud “I thought we agreed to unfollow her after the second month.”
He hears Jungkook’s sad chuckle on the other side of the line, “Yeah, we did.” 
Taehyung knows Jungkook wouldn’t bring himself to do it tho, and now he just confirms it. Being a little bit more resentful than Jungkook gave him the motivation to do so, but it doesn’t mean he hasn’t been missin’ your ugly face. 
“Ok, so I need you to refresh my mind now. Tell me something so I won’t step outside that door right this second and make a fool of myself.” Jungkook continues to talk as if he’s been charged on 220W. And maybe he was. His heart has never beaten so fast for the past twelve months. His hair is all over the place from the countless times he grabbed it since he saw your photo. The tip of his fingers are tingling. Yeah, maybe he’s been electrocuted or something.
“Go.”
“What?” Jungkook says in disbelief. Doesn’t think he hears straight, ‘cause Taehyung would be the last one to say such a thing. 
“I said go, Jungkook.” he sighs for what it seems to be the tenth time on the phone call. “I know you need this. You haven’t been yourself for so long now. You two have to talk properly at some point.”
“Ay, how frustratin really—” he tsks.
“For real, man. Go. Now.” he firmly says “What’s the worst she can do, leave?” Jungkook senses the bitter words coming from Taehyung’s mouth. He knows he’s not mad at you, just hurt. Knows Taehyung would forgive you in a heartbeat if you said how sorry you were for everything that went thru. Wonders if he would forgive you that easily too. But he knows his friend is right. He needs closure. Needs this.
“Yeah. Right.” he bites his lips and looks around. Sees Bam looking at him, as if he’s expecting an action from him too. “I’ll talk to you later, bro. Thanks.”
He turns off the phone and grabs his car keys tightly. Yeah, he’s doing it. Won’t think too much, it’s better this way. He will get in the car, drive for 5 minutes. Enter the coffee shop. Order. Pretend he doesn’t know you’re there. Eventually look over the spot he knows you’re at, the same table over the corner where you two always used to sit together, by the large window. Grab the coffee and go over casually, ask how you’ve been. Offer you a ride home —to your parents, probably, since you moved out from your apartment on the neighborhood for a while now. Say it’s because of the rain, he knows you hate to ask for Ubers on the rain. Didn’t trust just anyone driving on bad weather. Such a smart girl. He misses the shit out of you. 
“Damn, ok. Pack it up, man.” 
He calls Bam to his house and watches as the dog quickly follow his lead, as if he knows Jungkook is too anxious to play around right now. “Dad will be back soon, okay? Behave.”
And so he checks out his hair one last time on the mirror at his bathroom and goes before he changes his mind.
The drive is pretty quick. It’s actually a route he does walking, but it’s still pouring rain so he’s carrying on. On a rainy day. To a coffee shop. To get a coffee he could have made at the comfort of his home with his own little coffee machine. But it’s okay, he will just play pretend for this time.
He stops the car and just realizes he forgot his umbrella. “Are you fucking serious, Jungkook?” 
Great. Brilliant. He feels so fucking dumb right now. 
Thankfully, due to the cold season he was wearing his black sweatshirt and sweatpants so the rain wouldn’t do so much damage. He quickly got off the car and ran inside the cafe. 
Surprisingly, it was full for a rainy night. Perhaps everyone had the usual thought; too lazy to make their own foods, they step out to grab something warm on the best coffee in the neighborhood. 
Jungkook plays the script on his head over and over again as he whipes his hair side to side like a fluffy dog to get rid of the water that soaked it a little bit. 
He looks ahead to the counter and his mind goes blank as he sees you over there now. At the little chair on the middle of the cafe. You seem lonely, messing with your hair a little bit, making a braid with a single tiny lock. It’s an old habit to make time pass, and Jungkook hates he remembers every little detail about you. His heart now has stopped, dropped to his knees. He really misses you. 
“Bee!” the waiter calls, and Jungkook recognizes the nickname. Knows it’s you, ‘cause he’s the one that gave it to you years ago. Used to call you bee just to make fun of you, ‘cause you’re such a sweet tooth. Never met someone that loves sugar more than you do, so he started to call you that since you two became friends.
He watches at the end of the waiting line as you get up, straight your hand and pick up two cookies in a little pink plate. Chocolate chips cookies. Your favorite. His favorite as well.
You start to eat slowly so he averts his eyes. Doesn’t want to be catch staring and look like a fucking weirdo. It’s not like he drove here to see you. Talk to you. Not at all, the coffee here is great. 
Finally the line walks and it’s his turn. “One black coffee, please. No sugar.” He says softly and suddenly feels his neck start to tingle. Knows you just realized he’s here, and you’re staring at him. Pretends he doesn’t tho, so continues to talk to the waitress as she asks who she would call when it’s ready “JK.” he says, then turns around to look for somewhere to sit and wait for the order. Looks over the table that you originally were, the one you posted a photo of. Then realizes now there’s a couple there, laughing together and taking pics of each other. He knows you. Knows you most likely offered the clingy couple the table, cause the house is full, and you wouldn’t take the table just for yourself. Even if it meant you would end up eating by the counter on the little puffed chair, you loved to drool over the pastries anyways.
He slowly looks the other way. Knows you’re on this direction so he has to be careful. You’re looking down. Seem sad all of the sudden and he just wants to hug you. For fucks sake. This is harder than he thought. 
He sighs again as he realizes the only spots available are the 2 chairs on your right. He chooses the one that’s a little bit far just to be safe.
As he walks down, his chest tightens a little bit more. Now he doesn’t know what he’s doing here. It was a bad idea. Doesn’t even remember what the plan was at the first place. 
He can smell your perfume as he walks past you and it’s like someone punches his stomach. Your sweet smell fills his nostrils and he just wants to be closer. Shove his nose on your hair like he used to. Then go down your neck and feel your skin respond with little goosebumps as he moves along it softly. Damn it. Jungkook wants to curse the life out of you but he can’t even bring himself to be mad right now. Only knows he misses you. Your touch. Your kiss. You.
Finally he sits and pretends as if he didn’t notice you there, continually looking over his phone as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world trying to figure out what to do next.
“JK!” The waitress calls him and he’s put out of his own world, looking up right away. You seem to be startled too as you look directly at him. You two look at each other for what seems to be minutes in a trance. You give him a tiny smile. He gives one back.
“JK!” he hears the call again and pulls himself out of the trance, going to grab the coffee from the waitress who’s on your left side. He pays for it and looks at you again. You’re still looking at him. Kinda unsure on how to act, he figures. It’s okay, cause he doesn’t know how to either. 
As he sits, now on the chair closer to your right, he looks straight ahead and takes a gulp of the coffee. “Fuck!” he curses and pulls the coffee cup away as he burns his tongue with the damn thing.
You laugh thru your nose and his ears rapidly catch the sweet sound he used to hear all the time. Looks sideways to you, “Funny, huh?” he feels the air a little bit less heavy now, and he’s relieved.
“You just never change, Koo.” you say, still with that damn smile on your face he adores so much. He can’t take his eyes off of you. Realizes he never got over you, not even for a second. Probably never will.
“Don’t call me that.” those damned butterflies on his guts as he digests what you’ve said. You know it’s his favorite nickname. Knows only you call him by it. Knows he melts alway with this shit everytime.
You’re staring at him like that. So pretty. Soft brown sparkly eyes he missed so much. Now they seem to start hardening. “I’m sorry.” You say with a broken voice, and he feels the air shift all over again in a matter of seconds. Doesn’t know if you’re apologizing for the sweet nickname. For leaving him. For not calling. For not coming back. For everything. 
“How’s everything?” He tries to ease the air back again. “It’s been a minute.”
He sees the corner of your lips tremble a little bit and you gulp. His chest pangs. Wonders if he did the right thing by pretending you never existed for the past months now. Just wants to make up for all the time both of you lost.
“Yup, it has.” You reply after a while. “I’m doing okay. What about you?” 
You look up at him like everything is okay. If he didn’t know you, he would believe you were. But he knows better. You can’t hide anything from him, really. At least that’s what he thought. Knows he could be wrong, just like he was a year ago too.
“Cool. I’m cool.” he licks his dry lips and starts to think about his next move. Mind starts to blow up, a trillion thoughts at the same time and he’s back at it again. Can’t put his neurons to work properly. You’re actually right here in front of him, how is he supposed to?
Seems like you’re struggling yourself too. He doesn’t know if you’re trying to come up with an excuse to leave right now, or trying to find a subject in common as well.
 You stare at your now half eaten cookie like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. The other one is already on the bag to go. You probably were planning on taking home to eat when the late night sweet crave hits you, like he remembers. Will put it on the microwave so it gets warm again and take a cup of milk with you, like you used to. Turn on netflix and watch one of those lame cooking programs, ‘cause you loved to waste your time watching people losing their heads to make giant chocolate sculptures. He secretly loved watching it with you. It’s the reason he watched every episode back and forth while you were away too.  
“Is Bamie okay?” you murmur, now staring at your coffee cup with a little smile, thinking about the little puppy. Remembers how energetic and loving he was. Just like Jungkook. “You haven’t posted him in a while now.”
His tongue feels bittersweet again. He’s somehow happy knowing that you’ve been catching up with his life throught social media, even tho he disappears once in a while. At the same time, he’s sad. You could have been there for Bam. Should have, since you are the one who came up with the idea in the first place. Said he needed a little friend to match up with his chaotic energy. He ended up convinced and adopted the little guy. You always tended to get the best of him. Promised you’d help him to take good care of the baby, but only spent three months with Bam. Still, it’s like the puppy knows something is missing. Every night he looks over the door at any noise, like he’s expecting you to come throught it. Just like Jungkook used to do for the first months back then. 
“He’s great, actually. Bigger than I expected him to be. Eats like a fucking bear.” he giggles a little remembering his big boy. “He’s loud too. Don’t know how the neighbors still haven’t ganged up against me to kick us out of the apartment.”
You giggle alongside him imagining the chaos those two must have been doing together. “I figured. You always have spoiled him too much. Told ya he would get bad habits.”
“Hey! You spoiled him too!” he throws it right back. Remembers how you used to let Bam sleep with the two of you on bed. It took him months to break that habit from the puppy’s routine.
You look up at him and smiles. Bright now. You know he’s right. You’ve treated that puppy like it was your own son. Kinda misses the three of you together like a big happy family.
Suddenly a loud thunder is heard and both of you look out the foggy window at the same time. The sky is even darker now, angrily pouring rain like it’s the end of the earth. The coffee shop is emptier. Everyone outside your bubble must’ve realized that it was no longer safe to be out in the streets. But here you two are. Letting time pass by, enjoying each others presence even if it’s kinda weird. Kinda sad after all these months apart.
Jungkook knows it’s time to act. Step up and do what he was planning since he left home. Can’t bring himself to. Is too scared you will say no. Too scared you will let him down again. 
“I think I should get going.” you say softly wrapping up what is left of the cookie and putting it on your bag over the counter. “The weather is getting worst.”
“Want a ride home?” Jungkook quickly says before he looses the sudden courage. Sees you're taken aback so he continues, “I know you won’t be able to catch an uber or taxi right now.”
You still wonder a little bit. Jungkook’s anxiety is bubbling up again as he waits your answer. Why can’t you accept a simple offer? You can’t stand the thought of being around him? Do you hate him? Perhaps you don’t want him in your life ever again. You want to stay like this. Just be somebody that he used to know.
And that’s what scares him the most.
“I brought an umbrella” you finally say. Jungkook frowns. Knows you have no umbrella with you, he would’ve seen it by now.
He puffs. Knows it’s bullshit, but won’t call it. “Right. Suit yourself.” Then he gets up, forgets his full coffee by the counter, now cold. He feels fucking cold too. Already regrets coming to this stupid cafe, in this stupid weather, for no stupid reason. He takes his sweatshirt off and puts it over his head so the rain won’t get to him this time. Opens the door.
“Jungkook! Wait!” you suddenly say. “I actually didn’t.” you say pouty, coming up to him.
He doesn’t say anything. Just takes his sweatshirt, puts it over your head instead. He was wearing his taegeuk warriors jersey underneath it, will definitely get soacked but can’t bring himself to care at all. Just cares about you. Holds the glass door for you just like old times. You look up at him with your big doll eyes and he can’t do anything but look back. It’s like you want to talk through them. He wonders what’s going through your pretty little head right now. Probably overthinking too much, just like he does. 
“C’mon," he softly says "Let’s get you home.”
yayyy there it goes! my first ff ever i'm so happy <3 this was supposed to be an oneshot but i got carried away and wrote more than i expected so i had to cut it off hehe
also, please be aware that english is not my native language so i’m sorry if there’s any typos 🥹
i'll upload part 2 soon! if you want to be tagged pls comment under the post :) thanks for reading xx
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gojossocks · 5 months
Text
Pathetic
Pairing: AU!Sukuna x reader Genre: angst Content: the title says it all, pathetic ‘kuna core. Sukuna cockblocked himself because he's afraid of commitment :DD a bit of gojo x reader at the end bc y/n deserves love. Wc: 1.2k
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“Stop being so pathetic.” He had declared, his words cutting through the air like shards of ice.
But you, ever resolute, had refused to let his harshness deter you. Sukuna knows how much his sentence has hurt you. Your hands were trembling as you reached his, desperately seeking connection. Tears glistened in your eyes, your voice was quivering but you smiled at him through your blurred vision.
“We could work it out right, ‘Kuna?” you implored, your voice soft yet it held so much weight. “Please talk to me. I don’t need anything else! I just need you. We don’t have to get married or anything. I am content just being with you. I love you.”
Sukuna’s gaze remains distant, his eyes fixed on the table behind you. He isn’t looking at you anymore. His response was dispassionate and void of the warmth he used to give you. “It’s not that. I just don’t love you anymore, Y/N.”
He watched you break and he watched you swallow your sobs as you clutched his hand tighter. “That’s okay,” you whispered, your voice desperate, barely more than a breath. “You loved me once, I could make you do it again. Tell me what to change and I’ll change for you, love.”
“I don’t care. I’m leaving.” He pulled his hand away, leaving you alone in your once shared bedroom. He still remembered the sounds of your sobs down the hallway as he walked out of your life.
Sukuna was always sure of himself that day he left you. He had said it so indifferently, so carelessly, as if he didn’t spend years being loved by you. He thought he moved on quite easily— bouncing from one woman to another, getting drunk on his own success, and wasting the rest of his twenties on meaningless connections. The hollowness of it all continued to haunt him.
It’s been half a decade trying to ignore the ache that has been gnawing at his heart. And it wasn’t until he saw you again did the gravity of his actions finally catched up to him.
It was supposed to be your anniversary and Sukuna finds himself pathetically walking into the places you once walked with him. He claimed he forgot about you but his feet always drag him to the remnants of you every year, without fail. He convinced himself it was just a mere coincidence that he walked to the same park where he first hugged you, how you fit right into his arms like you were made exactly for him. He finds himself dining in the restaurant you love so much, and he wonders if you still go there to order your favorite food.
He didn’t want to lay on his bed because he would think about how you used to run your hands through his hair when he’s upset or stressed. He would think about the warmth and comfort radiating out of you when he pulls you closer to him.
He told himself he had forgotten about you when he still hadn't thrown away the polaroid of the two of you, smiling softly as you kissed his cheeks. It was still in his wallet and he never bothered to change the photo. He remembers the way you clung to his arm, excitedly pointing out the changing leaves as autumn envelops the weather. He called you an idiot but you scrunch your nose at him and pulled him to a kiss. He remembers you dragging him into a movie theater to watch a cheesy romantic comedy. He got bored midway but he stayed anyway because he didn’t like seeing the pout on your face.
And he couldn’t rid what you had left him despite not taking any of your belongings when he left. He finds you in his morning coffee, how he drinks it with creamer and sugar because you told him it tasted better. He still gets your favorite laundry detergent every time he shops and he still folds his shirts the way you taught him to.
He thinks of you every sunrise, you once told him it’s a privilege to see the sun come alive right before your eyes and he stays up until morning just so he could pretend he’s seeing it with you.
Why is he mourning over a person who is very much alive?
He lets himself wonder if you think about him too, if you’ve forgiven him. His hands itch to call you to apologize or to ask to see you. He stops himself every time.
In the first year of your break up, he scrolled through your social media accounts to catch a glimpse of your life. You blocked him on everything the following year.
He drowned himself in his vices once more to numb that void you left. And once the party’s over, he would return to his empty mansion, clutching the only relic he has of you— the sweater you left at his place. It didn’t have any traces of your favorite perfume anymore yet he still hung on to it. In those moments, he allowed himself to regret his decision.
What would his life turn out if he told you what was on his mind?
It finally dawned on him when he saw you that day. You were still as radiant and you were smiling just as bright. You still looked like the same woman he walked away from years ago. The same woman he still loves. Only, you looked happier, your joy evident in every step you took. Sukuna watched you emerge from your favorite cafe, holding your coffee in one hand, a ring on your finger. The sight sent a shiver down his spine.
In your arms, cradled tenderly, was a child. Sukuna knew without a doubt that he was yours, the same eyes that had once held his heart were now reflected in your son’s eyes. White strands adorned your son’s hair, and Sukuna suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe.
He had never entertained the thought that he would ever see you with someone who wasn’t him. But now, as he stood there, he couldn’t deny the fact that he had no place in your life anymore.
You had settled down and gotten married to none other than Gojo Satoru.
He watched as your husband approached you, whispering something in your ear that made you giggle and smile harder. He watched as Gojo brushes your hair out of your face, taking your son from your arms so he could hold your hand.
Sukuna watched as Gojo Satoru gave you everything he couldn’t.
It felt like the gods were mocking him. And oh how Sukuna knew he messed up when he saw how you looked at Gojo the way you used to look at him.
It was supposed to be him.
He turned and walked away again before you could see him, paying his last respect to your own peace and happiness. Every step he took felt like daggers into his heart.
It’s pathetic, isn’t it?
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wanna read more?
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skzdarlings · 1 month
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chill | the threesome series ; skz ; hyunjin/reader/jeongin
masterlist.
threesome series part 4/4. long awaited finale lol.
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summary: when a lie about a fake boyfriend spirals out of control, your friends take it upon themselves to help.
pairing: hyunjin/reader/jeongin content info: friends to lovers romcom. fake relationship trope. sharing a bed trope. lots of teasing and bickering and indignant exclamations. some bossy dom!hyunjin and sweet jeongin. reader is described with a bigger chest. kissing w people watching. sex toys, dacryphilia, no mention of protection, threesome, explicit sexual content word count: 8440 words.
enjoy <3
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Your bottom lip is already wobbling when you click call.   You sprawl on your belly, front-down in a frilly pink bed in your childhood bedroom.  You are visiting your parents in the countryside, miles away from your apartment in the city and miles away from your best friends. 
You are calling them now, desperate for their friendly faces.  Your boys are the first ones you call in any crisis.  You don’t know what you would do without them.  Just the thought has you sniffling despondently. 
After a few more rings, Jeongin and Hyunjin answer one right after the other.  Your phone is filled with three little squares of faces, theirs smiling and yours utterly miserable.      
You look at those smiles and promptly burst into tears. 
“Ahh!” Hyunjin wails. 
“Ohh, whoa, what!” Jeongin says.
Both of them look concerned, all scrunched up brows and frowning faces.  At least you think so.  It is hard to see through your tears. 
“Baby, baby,” Hyunjin says.  At the same time, Jeongin asks, “What’s wrong?”
You cry a few more weepy sobs, then you grab the closest teddy bear and wipe your eyes on it.  You sniffle and pout. 
Even though you want their comfort, you can’t bring yourself to look at your friends when you admit, “I’ve been lying to my parents for months.” 
“What?” Hyunjin asks. 
“Huh?”  Jeongin says.
You blink away your tears and look at them properly.  They are the very picture of concern.  They have such striking faces so their emotions are always so plain, their features sharp, with thick dark brows and sloping cheeks and full lips.  Jeongin dyed his hair a fairer auburn a while ago, but Hyunjin is dark, both of them so handsome it makes you hiccup on a caught breath.  
These thoughts make you feel even more pathetic.  Here you are, gawking at your best friends while everything falls apart around you. 
You drop your face and cry some more.  They watch helplessly through their screens, saying your name and trying to calm you down. 
“What happened?” Hyunjin asks when your tears have slowed. 
“Remember a few months ago, when I went out with that guy who works at the coffee shop?”
“Yes, I hated him,” Jeongin says in a clipped tone while Hyunjin scoffs. 
“Me too,” Hyunjin says.  Their sour faces speak volumes. 
“What!”  This distracts you from yours tears for a moment.  “You guys told me you liked him!”
“Yeah, only because you did,” Jeongin says.  He is in his bedroom and he flops back on his bed, his mop of hair forming a charming halo around his head.  He grins that dimpled, mischievous grin at you.  “But now you don’t like him, so we hate him.”
“I always hated him,” Hyunjin says.  He is sitting at his desk, lit so prettily by lamplight that it looks like a dreamy filter.  He props his face in his hand and pouts dramatically.  “You didn’t need him anyway, baby,” he says.  “You’ve always got us.” 
At the same time Hyunjin says this, Jeongin tucks a hand under his head.  He is wearing a sleeveless top and his bicep flexes where his bare arm curves.  Between Hyunjin’s pretty face and prettier words, and Jeongin looking like that, it is no wonder how quickly heat rushes to your face. 
You bury your face in the blankets and shriek, frustrated with everything in your ridiculous life.  They are still looking at you with concern when you surface. 
“Sorry,” you say.  “The point is, my mom would ask about him.  You know what my parents are like and how much they want me to be in a relationship.” 
You love your family, you do.  You do not regret using visiting your parents.  The dinners and tea times and game nights have been a delight.  You have been proud to catch them up on your life in the city.  You are happy with your life, your education and your job and your friends.  Your parents are proud of you. 
They just cannot help but poke that one little detail, snagging like a loose thread on a nail and unravelling your careful composition with their obvious judgement. 
You are not in a relationship.  You have never been in a relationship.
Oh, sure, there have been dates scattered here and there, but nothing serious.  You are fine with this but your parents consider this cause for catastrophic levels of concern. 
You try to show grace.  Your family is only nosy out of misplaced worries, convinced that if you do not have a boyfriend then you must sobbing yourself to sleep every night.  Which is not true.  Well, sometimes it’s true, especially because your two best friends are the ones making your heart race, but most of the time you just eat cheese toast in bed. 
To assuage the worst of their concerns, you maybe exaggerated the truth a teensy tiny bit. 
“Well,” you say, “They were so happy that I went on more than one date, so it got them off my case for a while.  After we went our separate ways, I sort of just… kept telling them… I was still seeing him…”
“Uh oh,” Jeongin says.  Hyunjin grimaces.  Yeah, your friends know you well.  They have never met your family but they know the stories and they can guess where this is going. 
“Yeah, uh oh is right,” you say.  “My mom invited me out here for their summer party.  They throw one every year to start the season.  They invite the whole family and all their friends and their friends’ kids.  It’s huge.  I wasn’t even thinking when I said I would come because I always do.  Only when I agreed did my mom tell me to bring my boyfriend for everyone to meet… at which point I remembered…”
“That you don’t actually have a boyfriend?”  Jeongin asks with a quirked eyebrow.  Hyunjin laughs, covering his mouth with a quick slap of his hand to hide it. 
“Don’t laugh at me!” you say with a miserable whine.  “It’s not funny.  I messed up and now I don’t know what to tell them!”
“What did you tell them so far?” Jeongin asks while Hyunjin tries to get his face under control. 
“I was going to tell them the truth when I got here,” you say.  “But then they were so disappointed that my boyfriend wasn’t with me.  I couldn’t disappoint them even more by saying he didn’t exist at all in the first place!” 
“So you told a bigger lie instead,” Hyunjin says, tilting his head questioningly.  “What did you say exactly?” 
“I just said he was busy with work,” you say.  “And they were really upset about it so I tried to cheer them up.  I said he was going to try and make it to the party at least.” 
“But he’s not real,” Jeongin says. 
“Yes, Jeongin!” you squeal.  “That’s the problem!  And also—”  A flood of tears return, blurring your vision again.  “I know it’s so stupid.  We’re all grown-ups now.  But I was the youngest out of all the kids growing up, so I was always the dumb little tag-along.  My mom has told everyone I have a boyfriend coming and if I make up an excuse tomorrow, they’re all gonna see through it.  They’ll be nice to my face because we aren’t kids anymore but I already know they’re gonna talk about me and how pathetic I am.”  You start crying again, looking around at the bedroom you grew up in, still filled with the books and clothes and toys you left behind after moving.  It makes you feel like that little girl again.  It only worsens your angst.  “Tomorrow is going to be the worst day of my life,” you say. 
“Aw, no, no, it won’t,” Jeongin says. 
“Hey, baby, don’t cry,” Hyunjin also says.  They both speak in the sweetest tones imaginable, gazing so lovingly into their cameras it makes you melt. 
“You know you’re better than that,” Jeongin says.    
“Yeah, who cares what they think?” Hyunjin adds. 
“I care,” you say in a small voice, looking away again because you feel so embarrassed.  “At least a little bit.  I know it’s silly.” 
“It’s not,” Hyunjin says.  At the same Jeongin says, “It is but it’s fine.”  They both scowl at the camera as if frowning at each other.  It makes you laugh through your tears.  You wipe your eyes on the teddy bear again. 
“I guess it doesn’t matter now,” you say.  “I just have to face it.  It’s my own fault.  Maybe if I could just get a boyfriend for real, if I didn’t suck so much—”
“You’re perfect,” they say in unison.  It seems to make all three of you look flustered at once. 
“Seriously,” Hyunjin says while Jeongin clears his throat.  “You’re our girl.”
“Yeah, everyone is else is just stupid,” Jeongin says. 
“You only need to listen to us,” Hyunjin says. 
“Listen to me, not him,” Jeongin teases.  “He’s kinda stupid too.”
“Excuse me,” Hyunjin says in a perfectly catty voice.  Jeongin sticks his tongue out. 
Their antics make you laugh.  You rest your cheek on the teddy bear and kick your legs behind you, smiling into your screen. 
“Okay,” you say.  “In that case, just distract me until I go to bed.  It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow.” 
They both smile at you.  They waste no time obliging, launching into stories and playful bickering, making you forget about everyone and everything else.  They are your boys.  They are all you need. 
You go to bed with a smile on your face.
-
That smile is gone the next day.  You are a bundle of raw nerves all morning.  Despite the food being prepared, you cannot imagine eating, so sick to your stomach with anxiety.  Your parents ask about your boyfriend and you answer in vague replies and half-promises.  You claim he is still working but you are optimistic.  You cry your make-up off only once, which is ten times less than you thought you would. 
At least you look pretty.  You bought a new dress for the occasion, a pretty floral piece that sweeps the floor with a delicate swish.  If you are going to suffer, at least you will suffer beautifully. 
You are standing in front of the mirror, practicing lines and excuses and grimacing at all of them.  You are interrupted when your mother calls you downstairs, the first of the guests arriving.
Here goes nothing, you think. 
You take a deep gulp of air and descend the stairs, plastering a big fake smile on your face as you greet the party guests. 
They come in waves.  Cousins, aunts, uncles, neighbours, friends.  You greet everyone pleasantly.  There are so many people and so many conversations that you manage to sink into the background of every discussion, batting queries about your own private life with questions for someone else. 
You start to wonder if you worried for nothing, then someone directly asks about your boyfriend.  Not just someone, but one of the girls in your age group. 
“Your mother didn’t know much, she said you were quite evasive about it!” she says.  She is not being unkind because she currently has no reason to believe you are lying.  It will be later, when everyone realizes this mystery man is not manifesting, then everyone will start to gossip and draw conclusions.  This is just the beginning of a long, agonizing party.  “Is he going to be here?” she asks.  “I can’t wait to meet him!  He’s your first boyfriend, right?” 
You love your mom, but she really is such a blabbermouth. 
You laugh awkwardly, fidgeting with the skirt of your dress. 
“Ha-ha, yeah, I was, um, just waiting for the, uh, right person, you know,” you say. 
Someone else opens their mouth to ask more when the doorbell rings.  
“Oh, I better get that!” you say and leap out of your seat.  You give no one a chance to protest, scampering around bodies to get out of the backyard and into the house.  You run past your father who is ambling to the door, telling him you got it.  You want to let the guest inside then stand in the front yard to catch your breath.  Hopefully, by the time you go back, the conversation will have moved on. 
You swing open the door, a polite greeting on your lips.  It catches when you see who is standing there.
“Jeongin!” you exclaim. 
Your best friend is standing on your porch, grinning that big cheshire cat smile. He is an absurdly sexy vision.  Jeongin is a tech guy but he takes modelling gigs on the side, fashion a personal hobby to him.  His auburn hair is neatly styled around his face, a slash of colour in an otherwise all-black look.  It makes him look long and fit, loose pants and a dress shirt over a sleeveless top, topped with a leather jacket.  A silver chain sparkles around his neck. 
He swoops in and kisses your cheek, giggling to himself. 
“I heard someone needed a boyfriend,” he says. 
You laugh a little hysterically, all the joy returning to your body in a rush.  You slap your hands on your hot cheeks and look him up-and-down. 
“Oh, wow,” you say.  “You shouldn’t have.  But you look really good.”
Your eyes are on the tip of his black boots.  He is looking at you too, his eyebrows lifted as his gaze travels down your body. 
“Yeah,” he says on a breath.  “You too.”
Flustered, you cover yourself then swat at him.  It makes him grin again, cheek dimpled. 
“Stop that,” you say.  “You’re not allowed to say things like that to me.  And I’ve been sweating like a stuck pig under here.  I feel like I should do the grown-up thing and come clean and send you away, but I’m not gonna do that. Come on.”  You loop your arm with his elbow and drag him through the house to the back yard. 
Seconds before joining the party, he leans in to whisper in your ear, “Then as your boyfriend, I’m allowed to tell you that you looking really fucking good.  Okay?” 
You very literally fall into the yard.  Fortunately, Jeongin keeps his balance and yanks you upright.  You stumble into his open arms, your back plastered to his chest.  He is probably smiling that big grin at everyone as he keeps his arms around you.
“Hi,” he finally says and offers a little wave. 
“Ahhh!” your mother screams more gleefully than a clown horn.  She immediately starts hollering for your father. 
“He’s inside getting some food ready, mom,” you say, covering your face in embarrassment as she scuttles up to you. 
“My goodness, my goodness,” your mother says, all but throwing you to the side to get to Jeongin.  “Oh, I’ve heard so much.  No, actually, that’s not true, I haven’t heard anything.  Tsk, crazy girl.  Always with her secrets.  But look at you, oh my, you’re so handsome!  Look at those dimples.”
“Mom!” you wail.  “Stop pinching his cheeks!” 
Someone sitting nearby tugs your skirt.  It is the girl from before and she is grinning.  He’s hot, she mouths very blatantly, winking at you.  You smile an awkward, too-wide grin, still more embarrassed than not.  Everyone is chattering, looking at you and Jeongin.  A couple others smile and give you a thumbs up.  You pretend to be very preoccupied with a speck on your dress, focussed on scratching it off so you do not have to meet any eyes. 
In the midst of all the madness, the doorbell rings again.  You hear your father inside, shouting that he will get it.
“Oh, hurry up!” your mother shouts.  “You have to meet—oh goodness, what is your name?” she asks, even while she has a hand in his hair. 
“Ha, ah, Jeongin,” he says, managing to politely extricate himself.  He takes her hand and pats it affectionately.  “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” he says, then winks at you.  Your mother looks at you with a delighted smile.  You refrain from smacking your forehead. 
At least things can’t get worse, you think, right before things get worse. 
Your father steps into the yard, smiling a big smile. 
“Ah, my little girl!” he says, waving at you.  “Your boyfriend is here!  Everybody, this is Hyunjin.” 
Your heart was racing with adrenaline a moment ago.  Now, it freezes solid.  It feels like a cement block dropping right into your gut.  You are not sure if the entire party actually goes quiet or if your ears just give up to protect you. 
You are helpless, standing stock still as your other best friend steps onto the deck behind your father.  Coincidentally and preposterously, he is dressed almost identical to Jeongin, all in black with a black leather jacket.  He is wearing sunglasses, though, which he pushes onto the top of his head when he sees Jeongin. 
Jeongin stares back at him, then he looks at you.  Hyunjin looks at you.  Your mother looks at you.  Everyone looks at you.
“Um,” you squeak.  
Wow, that speck on your dress really is so very interesting.  And why is it so hard to swallow?  Where is your tongue again?  Oh, why did you ever have to tell such a stupid lie, just for a few moments of convenience.
You clear your throat and look up.  Your voice comes in a croak when you say, “Hi, Hyunjin.” 
“Hyunjin,” your mother says, looking at him.  He blinks at her.  Jeongin is handsome but Hyunjin is the definitive pretty boy, an artist behind the camera but just as suited to a life in the spotlight.  His artistic soul really shines through in every capacity.  Even his smile is a work of art, delicate and sweet as he looks at your mother.  He would have made a perfect fake boyfriend if you didn’t already have one. 
Somehow you went from no boyfriends to two.  No, not even, because they are fake.  You went from no boyfriends to negative-two boyfriends.  That must be a feat. 
“Ohhhh,” your mother suddenly interrupts the silence.  She starts giggling as she tip-toes to Hyunjin like a panther about to pounce.  “I see what’s happening,” she says, looking slyly between the three of you.  Then she grabs Hyunjin by the cheeks as well, shaking him around like a baby rattle.  “My little girl has TWO handsome boyfriends!” she cries out ecstatically.  “Oh, that’s just like her too.  You know, she was a late bloomer in every respect, but always caught up and surpassed everyone after the fact.  Struggled at school when she was little, then grew up and got herself on the dean’s list at university.  You know she didn’t even grow breasts until she was eighteen then ballooned right up, the biggest you’ve seen!”
“Mom!”
Jeongin and Hyunjin look at your chest at the same time.  You wrap your arms around yourself and frown, making them both clear their throat and look away. 
“Oh, sweetie,” your mother says, finally freeing Hyunjin.  He and Jeongin stand together, rubbing their cheeks.  They watch as your mother takes your hand.  “I understand now why you were to hesitant to give us any details.  But it’s a brave new world.  There’s all sorts of different loves out there.  I’ve been reading books!” 
“Exactly,” your father says, joining you in the middle of the party.  “We would never judge you for who you love.”
“That’s great,” you say.  This conversation would be really sweet if it wasn’t about your negative-two boyfriends and happening in front of fifty people.  “Thanks,” you say. 
Your father is holding barbeque tongs.  He claps them in the air and smiles.
“Great!” he says.  “Who’s hungry!”
-
It isn’t until much later that you get a second alone with Hyunjin and Jeongin.  It is well after dinner when the sun is starting to set and the party has dispersed to different corners of the yard.  Your parents are with some friends, seated around a fire, so you drag your fake boyfriends into the house and upstairs to your bedroom. 
You slam the door shut.   
“Seriously!” you shriek.  “You didn’t think to tell each other you were going to show up to be my fake boyfriend?!” 
They both look chagrined, Jeongin with his arms crossed and Hyunjin rocking on the balls of his feet.  They look at each other with a grimace, then try to smile at you.
“Don’t give me that look,” you say, then groan, leaning against your closed door.  You cover your face with your hands.  “This is insane.  My life is a joke.  Hwang Hyunjin, don’t even think about touching anything.”  You point to Hyunjin even though your eyes are covered.  You don’t need to see him to know he is reaching for something, always sticking his gossipy nose in places it doesn’t belong.  When you drop your hands, you catch him hovering near your head table.  He smiles nervously.  “Sit down,” you say, unamused.   
Jeongin and Hyunjin plop onto the bed at the same time.  They look rather ridiculous in the black and leather, contrasted to all the pink and white lace of your old bedroom.  Ridiculous, yes, and definitely not stupidly sexy.  The contrast between two sexy bad boys and your floral cuteness is absolutely not a turn-on.  It’s not.  No.  No.  You refuse. 
“Sorry,” Jeongin finally says.  “We should have checked first.  With you, at least.”
“Yeah, baby, seriously,” Hyunjin says, shaking his head.  “I feel really embarrassed.  You know we would never want to hurt you, right?”
“You were just crying so much,” Jeongin says. 
“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep at all last night,” Hyunjin says.
They keep speaking in their defense.  You start to pout, feeling guilty, because they are so sincere in their apology.  It is very obvious they did not do this to embarrass you.  The complete opposite.  Your friends love you so much and it is obvious in everything they do.  From the day you met them, Jeongin and Hyunjin have happily dropped everything to help you with anything.  No task has ever been too big or too small.  If it’s for you, they will do it.  You are the exception to every rule and the first call every time.  
They are your boys.  You are their girl.   
“I’m sorry too,” you say.  “In fact, I’m even more sorry.  This whole thing is my fault, after all.  I should have never lied in the first place.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Jeongin says.
“Yeah, we all do stupid things,” Hyunjin says. 
“It’s not like you knew it would get this bad,” Jeongin adds. 
“I definitely don’t think she predicted this,” Hyunjin quips, looking at him.  It makes Jeongin snort and Hyunjin grins. 
It makes you laugh as well, though you cover your mouth to hide it. 
It’s no good.  Once the first giggle escape, they are relentless.  The three of you laugh until there are tears in your eyes, doubled over as the silly situation washes over you.  When the laughter has somewhat subdued, Hyunjin holds out a hand in offering. 
“Come here,” he says. 
You take his hand and he tugs you towards them.  You find yourself squished between them, framed between their bodies like a little flower.  Jeongin puts a hand on your lower back and Hyunjin brushes his knuckles over your cheek.  Both touches are innocent but the combination has your face heating.
Not just your face.  Heat rushes everywhere, cascading down your chest, swooping in your belly and lower.  Your toes even curl. 
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Hyunjin says.  He smiles while holding your gaze. “You know we’ll help you no matter what, okay?” 
Jeongin kisses your shoulder and you cannot hide your shiver.
“Okay,” you say in a small voice.    
There is a moment of tense silence after this.  You look between them and they look at you.
You all jump when there is a knock at your door.  Hyunjin falls right off the bed, sprawling in an ungainly clatter of long limbs on the floor.  Jeongin scoots to the side, less dramatic but still surprised.  You sit straighter.  Hyunjin groans and rubs his head. 
The door opens and your mother pokes her head inside, smiling. 
“Sorry to interrupt,” she says.  “But sweetie, there will be time to be alone with your boyfriends later, since I assume they’re spending the night.  But right now we have company.  Come spend time with the guests.  Some of the others are using the hot tub and pool.  Do you boys need swim trunks? Yes? I’ll go find some, give me a second.”
No one gets an opportunity to even answer.  She closes the door and disappears as quickly as she came. 
There is another beat of silence, then Jeongin says, “We’re spending the night, I guess?” 
“Ow,” Hyunjin says.  “I think I bruised my elbow.”
“Oh my god,” you say.
-
You putter around the poolside until the sun fully sets.  When it gets dark, the pool lights start to flicker in rainbow patterns so the others gravitate there, splashing through the luminescence.   
You and the boys wander to the hot tub while it is empty.  Jeongin sinks right in like he does not even feel the heat while Hyunjin has to make a dramatic show about every inch of skin that touches it.  You and Jeongin look at each other with matching quirked eyebrows.  You smile affectionately. 
“What? It’s hot,” Hyunjin says, finally sitting. 
“That is how they work,” Jeongin replies.    
You giggle but also drop your gaze.  Your mother managed to find swim clothes that would mostly fit the boys.  Jeongin is shirtless in swim trunks, his wet hair slicked back, that handsome face and all those lean muscles on display.  When did he get so damn fit?  He was always athletic in a subtle, svelte way, but his arms and back ripple with definition now. 
Hyunjin is in a wet suit, one that stops at the knee and elbow.  He is more covered but the solid black swimsuit makes him look so long and lean.  His hair is also damp.  You watch as he rakes his fingers through it, tucking it behind his ears.  He really is absurdly good looking. 
You blame the heat under your skin on the jets. 
“Psst,” Jeongin suddenly whispers.  His foot nudges yours under the water.  “Is that them?” he whispers. 
You try to be subtle, turning your head to see who is there.  A few younger people are sitting in some pool chairs under a torch, chatting and occasionally glancing in your direction.  It is a few of the people you grew up with, the ones you told the boys about. 
You nod at Jeongin, smiling shyly.  You look down at your legs through the rippled distortion of water.  You are wearing a simple one-piece, just as pink and floral as your dress, still a contrast to your boys. 
You look at them in time to catch a mutual nod.  You were spread around the hot tub, a reach of space between your bodies, but they slide until they are pressed up on either side of you.  You look between them, curling your hands in nervous fists on your chest. 
“What is it?” you whisper. 
“We’re your boyfriends,” Hyunjin whispers with a smile.  “Shouldn’t we sit close to you?” 
“Oh,” you squeak.  “I suppose that’s true.”  You swallow, looking at him then at Jeongin.  Your heart is pounding against your hands.  The combination of heat and desire is making you more than a little dizzy.  “Wh-what else should we be doing?” you ask before thinking twice.  Vocalizing your internal thought only intensifies your fantasies, your mind supplying plenty of mental images of what you would be doing in this hot tub if they were really your boyfriends. 
Oh, you are definitely getting dizzy, but it is not just the jets. 
Hyunjin and Jeongin look at each other, both of them surprised by your forward question.  Jeongin laughs because that is his instinct, that dimple never shy.  Hyunjin has more of a smirk than a smile.  He pokes his tongue into his cheek and lifts his eyebrows when you look at him.  It is a teasing expression.  It makes you dissolve into nervous giggles, sinking lower into the water. 
He grabs you before you can disappear under the surface.  And it is a grab.  Between Hyunjin and Jeongin, you always suspected Hyunjin would be a gentle lover.  He is so gushy and romantic while Jeongin tends be more frank about things.  But it is Jeongin who gently strokes a hand down your arm, who laces his fingers with yours and squeezes. 
Hyunjin reaches right under the water, stopping your descent with a hand on the back of your neck.  Your eyes widen as he yanks you up, not choking but certainly in control.  Your mouth falls open with surprise.  Much to your embarrassment, you moan before he even kisses you, the sound escaping of its own volition as he tilts his head and leans in. 
Oh, his mouth is gentle even if he is not.  His hand is on your jaw, firm, holding your face where he wants it, but his lips are so soft and warm.  He kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth and sighing against your lips.  You steal a breath as well, your mouth open against his.  That breath catches when Jeongin kisses the nape of your neck, then your shoulder. 
They both have big hands, long fingers, slender but strong.  You melt between them, all heat and need. 
You turn to Jeongin, breathless with desire.  His eyes are dark, lids heavy.  You have never seen such intensity on his usually smiling face. 
You are ready to kiss him when some playful shouts erupt from the audience you forgot about.  “Get it girl!” someone shouts. 
“Oh my god,” you say.  Distracted, you reach behind you, grasping for nothing in particular when you find something, indeed.  Jeongin is rock hard in his swim trunks and your hand brushes the very decent length of him. 
You snap your hand back to yourself, jaw dropping.
“Why are you hard?” you whisper harshly.
“What do you mean, why am I hard?” he whispers back, just as argumentatively.  “We’re all making out in a hot tub.  Of course I’m hard.” 
“Hyunjin’s not hard!” you hiss. 
You look over your shoulder.  Hyunjin is staring up into the air at nothing, looking a little too inconspicuous.
“Hyunjin!” you cry. 
“What?” he returns, also whispering sharply.  “Are you saying you’re not turned on?” 
“I—hmmph—you—no!”
“No?” he asks with a sharp tilt of his head. 
“So,” Jeongin says, drawing your narrowed gaze back to him.  He just smiles at you.  “If we put our hands somewhere here,” his fingers skim your upper thigh and you jump, “we wouldn’t find…?” 
You sputter helplessly but it does no good; you have no retaliation whatsoever.  You look at Hyunjin but he’s no help, just smirking at you.  He wiggles his fingers in a little wave and you feel flushed again. 
“I’m leaving now,” you say and finally sink under the water while they laugh. 
-
You step into your bedroom at the end of a very long day.  The guests have all gone home.  Your parents, for reasons your mother strangely explained, are staying at the neighbour’s house tonight.   You are very aware of the privacy it offers, the air rife with possibility. 
Your boys are in your bed, wearing boxers and sleeveless shirts and bickering about the size of the quilt.  They stop yanking on the blankets when you appear. 
You did not bring much sleepwear.  You figured you would wear the old shirts left behind in this room.  You have outgrown most of them, but that wasn’t a problem with you were sleeping alone.  Now you are wearing old gym shorts that sit very high up your thighs, a little shirt pulled taut across your ample chest, and your friends are staring at you, their previous conversation completely forgotten. 
You cross your arms and stomp to the bed, feigning indifference.  You crawl over a startled Hyunjin to get to the middle, flopping into the little column of space they left for you.
“Good night,” you say. 
Hyunjin turns off the bedside light.  The three of you are laying on top of the covers, on your backs, stiff as boards.  Your arms are still crossed over your chest in a totally unnatural position.  You refuse to look around, counting every little popcorn freckle in the ceiling design. 
“You kissed him,” Jeongin says, his voice so loud in the silence. 
You feel Hyunjin look over, hear the turn of his head on the pillow.  You cast your eyes to either side but do not turn your head.  There is already a skip in your heartbeat and you cannot encourage it. 
“What?” you ask. 
“You kissed him,” Jeongin says.  You feel him roll onto his side, facing you.  “You didn’t kiss me.”
You brace yourself then turn your head, looking at him with every intention of telling him that you did it in the heat of the moment.  But he is gazing you, his head propped up on his arm, that god-forsaken bicep flexed again. 
You shake your head and look at the ceiling.
“Yes, I did,” you say.  “What should we do about it?”
“Kiss him,” Hyunjin says.  You look at him.  He is also propped up, leaning back on his elbow. He looks at you with an expression that offers a challenge, asking, Well? What are you waiting for?      
“Fine,” you say, then slowly turn to Jeongin.  “Only because that’s fair.” 
Jeongin does not hesitate.  He is not as firm Hyunjin but he does not need to be.  Long, steady fingers slide across your shoulder and cup the back of your head.  He draws you into him, kissing your cheek before your lips. 
You quickly lose yourself.  Your eyes close and it feels like taking flight, or maybe falling.  Yes, falling helplessly head over heels.  You have been for a long time. 
You cannot help but make a few wanting sounds.  Jeongin’s body is so different to yours, all hard planes and firm muscle against your softer spots.  His hand finds your waist and he pulls you even closer, kissing you long and slow like he is pacing himself, like he plans to kiss you for hours. 
That hand wanders from your waist, sliding lower until he is cupping your ass.  Your breath catches and the kiss breaks.  He is quick to dive back in, kissing you deeper the second time, his tongue touching yours. 
You grab his arm, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. When he leans in again, Hyunjin reaches out and shoves his shoulder.  Jeongin blinks up at him, surprised. 
“That was two kisses,” Hyunjin says.  “My turn.” 
Hyunjin grabs your shoulder and pulls you onto your back.  You land with a soft thump, still intoxicated from kissing Jeongin. 
You blink up at Hyunjin, your chest heaving with breath as his eyes roam down your body.  His fingers follow the same trail, knuckles at your chin then the curve of your chest.  You arch your back instinctively.  Everything seems to throb when his fingers brush the front of your shorts.  It is a momentary touch, then he is cupping your cheek and turning your face and kissing you. 
Just last night, you were in this bed alone, fantasizing this very thing.  You ended the phone call but you were wide awake, so you put on some music and grabbed your vibrator and lost yourself to the impossible fantasy now entering reality. 
In your fantasies, one or both of them was on top of you.  But Hyunjin surprises you with the opposite, taking hold of your hips and tugging.  You follow his direction clumsily until you are straddling his lap.  He is hard between your legs, holding you there against him while he cups the back of your head and kisses you. 
You can’t believe you thought Hyunjin was a romantic little angel.  He is an absolute demon, rolling his hips under you with the same unhurried pace Jeongin used.  You are so wet and turned-on, so delirious with need, for a second it feels like there is nothing between you, just the hard shape of him against your softness.  But no, there are thin layers of fabric between you, stretched so tight it is like they are not there. 
Jeongin curves his hand over the shape of your ass.  Your shorts are riding up from your position.  He could get an eye-ful at the right angle. 
“You’re so…” he says, but his breath catches like there is no word to do you justice.  It makes you look at him, your eyes locking in intensity. 
It ends when Hyunjin rolls, laying you onto your back again.  Then he sits back, leaving you there in a breathless pant. 
“What do you think about?” he asks.
You make a noise back at him.  It is supposed to be a question but it comes out garbled.  You shake your head, then manage to ask, “Huh?  Think about?”
He sits up and reaches into your bedside drawer.  You come to coherency when he takes out your vibrator. 
“Hyunjin!”  You cannot help but scold him.  “I told you to stay out of there!” 
“You know I like to investigate,” he argues.  “I can’t help it.” 
“Oh my god,” you say, slapping your forehead.  “I swear to god, it’s like being friends with a crow.”
Jeongin sits up too, laughing so much he has to cover his face.  He shakes his head as he comes up for a breath, pushing his hair out of his face. 
“Stop laughing,” you say, even while a few giggles escape. 
Jeongin just grins at you, then he reaches out and touches traces his thumb across your smile. 
“Are you going to answer?” Hyunjin asks. 
You look at him and snatch the vibrator back, clutching it possessively to your chest. 
“That’s none of your business,” you say.
“It could be,” he says, expression getting darker by the second, a playful smile turning to a dirty smirk.  He runs his teeth across his bottom lip then bats his eyelashes.  “If you think about us,” he finishes. 
“I—no—you—”
“It’s fine,” he says.  “It’s normal.  I think about you.” 
“Hyunjin,” you gasp.  You go to whack him with the vibrator then remember what it is.  You hold it against your chest again, embarrassed.  Hot in the face and everywhere else, you sputter more indignantly than you feel, “There’s nothing to think about with me.”
He looks at you like he can’t believe you are serious, his eyes dropping down your body then back up.  He laughs, covering a hand over his mouth. 
“Last night I thought plenty,” he says with a wave of his hand. “I wondered if you could come so hard it would make you cry.  I bet you’d look pretty.” 
You swallow hard.  Your hands are getting clammy, clutching the toy.  You cannot even fake any indignance, so turned on it is making your head spin. 
“That’s rude,” you say in a rasping voice, “I was crying and you were—”
“I waited to touch myself, thank you,” he teases. 
“Jeongin wouldn’t do that,” you say, looking back at him.  He is staring up at the ceiling, blinking too quickly and too innocently.  “Jeongin!” you exclaim. 
Hyunjin laughs some more, a gleeful little cackle behind his hand.  You huff dramatically, trying and failing to frown at them. 
“My friends are perverts,” you say. 
Hyunjin is reclining in an insouciant slouch.  Jeongin is sitting upright behind you.  You look between them as they look at each other, seemingly conversing through nothing but a series of blinks.  Jeongin smiles first, winking at you when you meet his eye.  He is holding your gaze when Hyunjin moves, smooth and quick.  They crowd you, one on either side, each with a hand on your thigh. 
You make a noise, a surprised little whimper as you spill onto your back.  You clutch the toy for dear life as Jeongin strokes your inner thigh and Hyunjin’s long fingers trace your waistband.  You gasp when Hyunjin slides right in, under your shorts but over your underwear.  You are so turned on that there is no hiding it, the fabric wet under his searching fingers.
“Takes one to know one,” he says with a smile.  “Maybe that’s why we’re friends.” 
“I don’t think we’re just friends,” Jeongin says while sliding the toy out of your hands.  He turns it on and your clit pulses under Hyunjin’s fingers, trained to react to the noise. 
Hyunjin laughs, his breath on your neck.  He moves his hand while Jeongin presses the toy between your legs, over your shorts and panties but nonetheless immediately effective.  You squirm a little.  The onslaught of sensation has your thighs twitching to close. 
The boys shuffle quickly.  You find yourself sitting between Jeongin’s legs, your back against his chest.  Hyunjin kneels in front of you, holding your legs open so you cannot escape the toy’s blissful torture.  You can feel an orgasm winding up ridiculously fast.  You have not had a proper relationship but you have fooled around, but it was never like this.  Even by yourself with a toy, an orgasm would take time.  You have a breath to realize you are going to come, hard, legs spread for your boys.
It hits you quickly but deeply, rolling vibrations of pleasure that have you rearing up.  You start to cry out and Jeongin covers your mouth even though you are alone, catching the sound in his palm.   He holds the toy with his other hand, keeping it in place while Hyunjin holds your legs so you feel every tingling second of aftershocks. 
When you whine into his palm, Jeongin lets you go and turns off the toy. 
The room feels very quiet when the toy stops.  You come to reality, remembering you are in your parents’ house in your old bedroom.  Your parents might not be home but it still seems wrong to get down and dirty with your old teddy bear staring at you.
Hyunjin follows your line of sight.  He grabs the bear and turns it around.
Okay. It’s fine now. 
You twist around and grab Jeongin, kissing him roughly.  He holds you as desperately, kissing back with the same fervour.  Hyunjin gets his hands on your shorts and tugs them down.  They are only off one leg, dangling around your knee, when he dives in and starts kissing your pussy through your underwear. 
You are still sensitive from your orgasm, moaning into Jeongin’s mouth while Hyunjin torments you with his.  When he moves the material out of the way, your legs start shaking again.  Jeongin reaches down to touch you too, his fingers brushing Hyunjin’s lips.  Hyunjin sucks the taste of you off his fingertips then dives back in. 
You are caught by surprise when you come again.  Jeongin catches your cry, covering your mouth again as you shake in his arms.  A tear spills loose just from the sheer sensation of such rapid orgasms.  Your body feels like a live wire, all lightning and electric energy. 
Hyunjin kneels upright, looking at the tear running down your face.  You whimper into Jeongin’s hand when Hyunjin licks it off your cheek. 
“Knew you’d be pretty like that, baby,” he says. 
You pry Jeongin’s hand off your mouth.  It goes easily.  In the end, they follow your lead.  You know your boys.  They would do anything for you.  They would start.  They would stop.  
You do not want them to stop. 
“Fuck me,” you say, so quietly it does not even penetrate the silence.   Even so, Hyunjin slides his hand between your legs and slides two fingers right inside you, so easily because you are so wet.  Jeongin squeezes your breasts in his hands, over your shirt then tugging the fabric up and over to get his hands on your bare skin. 
“What was that?” Hyunjin asks.  He brings those wet fingers to his lips and licks your wetness off them. 
“F-fuck me,” you say, still a whisper but clearer.  “Please.” 
“Well,” Jeongin says, kissing your temple.  He smiles at Hyunjin.  “Since you asked so nicely.” 
You all tumble over, laying on your sides.  Jeongin is nestled behind you, Hyunjin in front of you.  Jeongin lifts your shirt over your head while Hyunjin finally removes everything below your waist.  You slip your hand between your thighs while they whip off their shirts and boxers.
Then it feels like their hands are everywhere.  Yours too, reaching forward for Hyunjin, reaching back for Jeongin.  You hold his hip while he rocks against you, his cock gliding along your backside. 
“I’ll go first,” Hyunjin says, manhandling you onto your back then getting up between your legs. 
“You kissed her first,” Jeongin argues, shoving him.  Hyunjin shoves him back. 
“You’re bigger,” Hyunjin says, nodding to his dick.  “I’ll get her ready.” 
You did not actually get a good look at Hyunjin’s dick before he put it inside you.  If Jeongin is bigger, you are almost worried, because Hyunjin is bigger than anything you have had down there.  You make a keening, high-pitched noise, mouth open as he presses inside you. 
Jeongin lays beside you, reaching down to rub that still-tingling bundle of nerves.  It helps, your eyes closing and head falling back.  Jeongin kisses the exposed line of your throat while Hyunjin starts moving inside you. 
“Ohh—” you say, your hands moving all over his chest.  You clutch one shoulder and reach for Jeongin with your other hand.  He guides it to his dick, helping you find a rhythm, stroking his length while Hyunjin fucks you.
It goes on for a time, then Jeongin curses, squeezing your hand around him.  He nods to Hyunjin.
“Move,” he says.  “My turn.” 
Hyunjin, panting, pushes some hair off his sweaty forehead.  He moves backwards down the bed, stepping right off.  You yelp with surprise when he grabs your legs and yanks you down the bed.  He grabs your hips and flips you over, then gestures to Jeongin. 
“Your turn,” he confirms.  They switch places, Jeongin kneeling behind you while Hyunjin kneels in front of you.  You get up on your elbows, lifting your hips while Jeongin thrusts in.  He wastes no time, evidently already on the brink from your ministrations.  It means your gentle lover is suddenly pounding into you, your fingers forming fists in the bedsheets, yanking the covers everywhere as you pant and moan. 
“Sooo pretty,” Hyunjin says, cupping your face in both hands.  You know what he wants without asking, opening your mouth eagerly.  You doubt it is the best head ever, especially considering half your attention is on Jeongin, your body moving where he wills it.  But you manage, savouring the moment and already imagining every variation of position for the future. 
You look up at Hyunjin, kissing the tip of his dick then saying in a rough voice, “I want both of you one day.”
“Fuck,” Jeongin says and immediately comes, grinding deep inside you.  Hyunjin grabs you by the neck and puts you back on his dick, murmuring a string of expletives just as colourful until he comes. 
You think it is over when Jeongin pulls out.  Cum is dribbling out of your mouth when Hyunjin sits back.  He wipes his thumb over your lips, pushing them closed. 
“You can swallow,” he says.  His touch is a suggestion, not forceful, so you could ignore it.  But you gaze up at him and swallow.
And while you are doing that, Jeongin grabs the toy and puts it back between your legs.  You almost scream, bucking when it comes to life on your dripping pussy.  Hyunjin cups your face in his hands again, stroking your cheeks while you ride the pulsing vibrations.   Another couple tears spill and he wipes them away with his thumbs, cooing sweet nothings at you the entire time. 
They wring three more orgasms out of you before you basically collapse, exerted and sweating and panting. 
“God,” you rasp, laying on your side, still breathing hard.  “I’m gonna need to get in shape for this.  Two boyfriends is no joke.” 
The three of you laugh, then you get to enjoy the spoiled princess treatment that is having one boy to cuddle while the other fetches water and a towel.  When you finally get to sleep, it is nestled safely between your boys, murmuring sweet words at each other in sleepy tones until you fall asleep. 
-
Your parents return at lunch the next day.  While Jeongin helps your father grill and Hyunjin sets the table, you help your mother prepare a side dish.  She is practically beaming at you. 
“Do I want to know why you slept at the neighbour’s last night?” you ask. 
“Oh, my sweet girl,” your mother says.  She kisses your forehead.  “I heard you on the phone the other night.  I know you lied about having a boyfriend.”
“What?!”  You look at her with alarm and surprise.  “But – but you didn’t say anything!  You acted like Jeongin was my boyfriend the second he arrived!”
“Of course!” your mother says.  “Look my dear, anyone can find a boyfriend.  Walk onto the street and throw a rock, there’s one with his head out the car window like a dog.  Easy.  Not everyone can find a man who shows up to a party and pretends to be her lover, expecting nothing in return, and doing it just because he loves her.  And you found two.” 
Your mother wraps you in her arms.  You are still surprised but you hug her back.
“I’m sorry I made you feel so pressured,” she says.  “I just worried about you all alone in the city, but now I see you’re not alone.  But, you know, I am a mother, and I saw how those boys looked at you, so I figured… well…”
“Mom!” you cry, a little mortified she intentionally set you up. 
“Did it work?” she asks with an eyebrow wiggle. 
You are laughing helplessly, shaking your head, which only makes her laugh. 
“I knew it,” she says.  “Sometimes fate just needs a hand.  Maybe two.” 
“We’re not talking about this anymore,” you say, walking away. 
“You are glowing this morning.  Maybe I should get another man too.”
“Mom, please!”  
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daxerian · 8 months
Text
Mama y Papa
Carlos Sainz x Reader x Lando Norris
Warnings: my grammar😻, sickness and fluff
Words: around 4k I think
A/n: I am so sorry I was gone for a month but girlie was sick and wanted to spend time with her friends and family🤞🏼
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Y/N was talking to Carmen about life you know? Work, their relationships, family, etc.
It was a pretty deep conversation until they heard "Y/nnnnn?"
Of course, it was Lando asking his 'grid mum' for something to help him with, which was no problem from her side but when she saw Lando holding a bottle of water and looking a bit annoyed, she couldn't help but chuckle.
"Oh, Lando what's wrong?" Carmen asked smiling knowing that the 2 had a mother/son bond that will never be broken.
"I can't open the bottle and I couldn't find Carlos" Lando answered Carmen. "Hand me the bottle darling" Y/N said while waiting for Lando to give her the bottle. She opened it like nothing and handed it back to him, "There you go" Lando just looked at the bottle for a few seconds and then took it, "Thank you Y/N" "No problem Lando"
----
It was around 1 am when Y/N found herself looking at the wall cursing herself out for drinking coffee at 7 pm. At least Carlos is having the time of his life sleeping and clinging to her body.
She was snapped out of her thoughts when somebody decided to call her. She only wondered, who the hell would want to call at this hour? Surprisingly it was Lando, she went into an instant worry in seconds and picked up almost immediately.
"Lando, are you okay?" The worry in her voice was incredible because people wouldn't worry like that when their friends called at night, well that was not the case for Y/N and Carlos Sainz.
"Can you pick me up? I'm near the coffee shop you like and it's freezing and I don't have a jacket or a sweatshirt" Lando answered her, "I'll be there" She hung up the phone a started to wake Carlos up. "Carlos, wake up! Carlos!" once he did wake up he asked his wife "What's wrong mi amor?"
"It's Lando" and that sentence was all it took for Carlos to fully wake up. "Well, why are you still laying in bed? Let's go" Carlos hurried his wife out of bed because if something would happen to Lando he wouldn't survive it. He promised himself that he would take care of him the second he met him.
---
It was the day after the British GP and Lando wasn’t feeling well, was it because he went out clubbing to celebrate? Probably yes.
He tried calling Carlos and Y/N but they weren't picking up, that was the moment Lando accepted his fate. He had to go through the pain alone. Until a miracle happened. Carlos called back.
"Lando, are you okay?" Carlos asked curious, "No, I feel horrible and I've been throwing up" Lando admitted, "You've been what?" it was Y/N's time to ask Lando questions, "Have you taken any sort of medication? You know what, we'll go to the pharmacy and grocery shop so I can make you soup okay?"
Y/N told Lando the plan she created in seconds because there was no way she would let Lando deal with it by himself. Carlos hung up the phone and followed his wife asking her more questions like 'What do we need?' type of questions.
20 minutes later the couple was in Lando's apartment. Y/N made some soup while Carlos had Lando laying in his lap talking to him on the couch. "Lando you will take this after you eat okay?" Y/N showed him the medicine, "Mhm" he answered with this tired tone to his voice which Carlos or Y/N didn't like.
Lando fell asleep on Carlos' lap, and the couple was now having this genuine conversation. "He's like a few years younger than us but acts like a teenager" Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at the last part, "Oy mi amor, he's our son at this point no?" and Carlos was right "Our firstborn!" Y/N added.
---
Carlos, Y/N decided to take Lando with them for their vacation. They decided to visit New Zealand first, and after that, Carlos and Y/N will be going on a big family vacation to Ibiza.
They went to a restaurant because they got hungry and when they arrived Y/N was ready for this;
"Y/N can you please order for me?" Lando asked politely, "Tell me what you want to eat then". "This pasta and this mixed drink please" Lando pointed at the menu while telling Y/N his order, Carlos just sat back and quietly enjoyed the moment because even though Lando is old enough to be enjoying life on his own, he would rather spend it with the people he idolizes. Carlos and Y/N Sainz.
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occamstfs · 1 month
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Rosa's Cafe
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Here's a longer Racial TF set in a coffee shop, Best! Occam
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Matthew had clocked up more hours of overtime for his company than they were willing to pay him. He assumed that their guidelines weren’t so rigid and that he would be fine to get ahead early. These days you really need to go above and beyond to get ahead and Matthew was determined to get in the good graces of the big bosses.
Unfortunately working so hard was a misplay. His direct boss was forcing him to take Paid Time Off in lieu of the overtime pay for the past year. Now he sits at home with next to nothing to do, twiddling his thumbs until he can return to the grind. He loved back when he was a barista in college? Maybe he can get back to customer service?
Reflecting on this he takes to LinkedIn to see if there are any managerial spots open for a cafe. Something needs to scratch his itch for administration and he night as well pour coffee while doing so. In a stroke of luck, or perhaps something more deliberate, as soon as he logs in to check listings he sees a manager position at “Rosa’s Cafe.”
He auto-submits his resume to the restaurant assuming he’s overqualified before even reading the listing’s qualifications. Glancing through them he sees that they’d prefer someone fluent in Spanish. Matthew struggles to recall what if any Spanish remains in his head from taking it in both high school and college. He starts to pull up a language app on his phone before seeing that, jarringly fast, he has already been advanced to an interview for this cafe. Rosa herself sending him a message to come as soon as he’s ready. 
Matthew then sprints to check himself in a mirror. He has certainly not slacked in his hygiene since he was asked to stop coming into work, partially in hopes that they’ll need him to come in any day. Today though he throws on some cologne and drives off to Rosa’s Cafe. He doesn’t stop to question how odd it is to already be on the way to an interview, minutes after submitting his resume. They must just really need someone?
As soon as he arrives Rosa is there at the door to greet him, smiling wide and welcoming him into her establishment.
“Hola Matthew! So glad for you to join us, your application was outstanding! Solamente, I was wondering why you wanted this job given your current one?”
Matthew blushes and explains his situation, struggling not to sound like a maniac for wanting to work despite the relatively cushy situation he is in. Although Rosa hears this and is impressed at his ethic, his crave to work. Rosa was more than happy to take advantage of his situation.
“Uhhh there was just one thing though, Miss. Oh uh, lo siento. Señora Rosa.”
“Sí, sí. You aren’t quite fluent en Español, are you Matthew?” He averts his eyes but before he can answer Rosa continues on, “Esta bien. You will just learn on the job sí?”
Putting on an air of determination Matthew pumps his fist “Sí, Sra Rosa! Uh claro que sí,” he attempts, stepping to the limit of the Spanish remaining in his head. Rosa gives him a look like an owner watching a pet as it tries to show off, offering an ambiguous smile before explaining her stance.
“Claro que sí,” offering a knowing nod, “I’m sure you understand why I would want a manager to speak Español, yes? En esta ciudad, in this city, there are very few places where Español is the default. I would just like my cafe to be one of them. The job is of course yours, I would be a fool not to take the opportunity. But while you’re here, mientras estás aquí, please work on su Espanol,” tacking on, “I can’t imagine it will be too long before you’re called back to your job eh? Una estrella como tu” 
To her point there are clearly not a lot of people speaking English in the cafe. Matthew would guess he is probably the only native English speaker present making him blush, although after being flattered by Rosa he was ready to accept. After all he had been meaning to practice his Spanish anyway. He puts his hand out to shake her hand, “when can I start?”
“Well, mi pequeño gerente, why not start training now?” Turning around she calls over the barista Juan to introduce the two, talking to Juan at a speed that made it clear to Matthew that she was quite dumbing down her language in their conversation. She then bids farewell to the two, “adios Matthew! Tengo que ah, cόmo se dice, file your paperwork. Hasta mañana!”
“Hola Matthew, it is nice to meet you! Rosa said to show you around,” Juan smiles offering him a cup of their house roast. “Espero que, ah, I hope you don’t mind but I added canella, cinnamon.” Matthew graciously accepts the cup. He may be a world removed from his time as a barista but instantly returns to his first coffee tasting.
It smelled quite strong, darker than he usually prefers and he can see cinnamon swirling through the cup as the cup steams in his hand. He begins to bring the cup up for a closer smell although as soon as the movement begins the allure of the drink overpowers him and he drinks almost too quickly. It was delicious. He always, almost performatively, drank black coffee at his old job. Or no, his real job?
Juan sees Matthew continue to gulp down the cup of coffee waiting for reaction, though he sees very little sign of his mind processing the drink at all. Matthew’s just staring ahead, his eyes ever so slightly glazing over as he finishes the cup. He grins as it almost looks like the coffee has stained Matthew’s upper lip, offering a napkin before asking, “te gusta hermano?”
Matthew snaps back to his senses, staring at Juan as a small ring of brown starts to stain the center of his icy blue eyes. He struggles to even find the words to describe how profoundly he enjoyed the coffee. It was a passion too great for him to even begin to capture in English. “Juan, that was, cómo se dice? Is there some word better than delicioso?”
Juan laughs putting his arm around his new manager, “Ay hermano! Maybe that’s what you should do now! You just go work on your Spanish and I’ll bring you some samples! Ah, aqui, the employee handbook is in Spanish, practica perfecta!” He brings over another cup and the handbook and Matthew starts struggling through it. 
Matthew figuratively bashes his head into the handbook, it’s not dense but it is per cierto not written with beginners in mind. Smirking as he notices he just reflexively thought in Spanish, going to get another drink only to find the cup emptied once more. He hasn’t been drinking nearly as much since he left the office, bargaining with himself as Juan comes to refill his cup. He can cut back his intake later, he needs to get this through this work.
And work at it he does, caffeine is not making him feel wired as usual but sensual as he continues to page through the booklet. He starts to stretch just to feel the strain in his muscles and the tension in his clothes. He looks down and sees his shirt is fitting much better than he thought it did. It’s not tight but anyone who looks can see there is muscle under there. He stares at his own body feeling strength he does not remember cultivating. Suddenly he notices it’s not only his upper body that’s filling out, as a growing package begins to demand attention under the table. These jeans were clearly not designed to handle this and Matthew is barely able to stop himself from flexing to see just how much he truly can fill this outfit and he attempts to switch gears back to working. Urgently feeling adverse to thinking any further about his body.
Struggling to find any way to distract himself he remembers being historically shit at actually speaking in Spanish. This is as good a chance as any to practice his pronunciation. Matthew begins to mouth the words in the handbook, feeling his tongue in unfamiliar ways that he swears he has done a million times before. Matthew attempts to raise his practice to a whisper and immediately goes into a coughing fit. Hope that coffee didn’t burn my throat he thinks clearing his throat and finding a much deeper voice on the other side. One that announces his Spanish progress to the whole cafe shockingly loud for a whisper though Matthew doesn’t notice. What is immediately apparent to him is how expertly he rolled an R. 
He knows he could never do that, and not without trying. He probably spent half an hour practicing it his sophomore year. He reflects back on how hard he worked on Spanish in the past as his eyes start to glaze over once more. Something is off here, his hand raising to his face not notice a moustache and sloppy goatee start to push out of his face. He foes feel itchy elsewhere though, scratching at his chest and stomach, averting the more animalistic urge to scratch his pits and crotch as Juan begins to walk over.
Matthew quickly tries to meet him halfway, standing to a height just taller than the one he thought he knew to be true. His bulge grazes the bottom of the table which causes his body to convulse in pleasure. His feet are caught on the table as he falls knocking his coffee all over himself and the floor. “Mierda!” He shouts before going dark.
He awakens to Juan wiping coffee off his face, his clothes now certainly stained brown and spelling of rich coffee and cinnamon. Helping him back to standing, Juan makes sure he is alright, “quite the fall amigo! Tal vez we call it a day?” Matthew hastily agrees feeling impossibly strained and weary for what little work he has actually done. Juan continues, “Rosa said the paperwork should be good for you to start tomorrow if you can!” Stumbling to his feet Matt knows he agrees but the rest of his night is little more than a blur. 
He sees Juan wink at him and knows he is going to start tomorrow. He must drive home after that since he is now looking at himself in the mirror brushing his teeth. Something seems off, he is clearly too tired to put a finger on exactly what it is. He flexes his bicep noticing he must have completely disrobed. He thought he shaved his pits recently. He scratches at his crotch realizing that his now heavier cock is also out, pawing at his pubes and feeling his bulge expand even further into his hand before forcing it into some briefs and continuing his audit. 
Didn’t he have a tan? Looking at himself up and down he feels like he isn’t supposed to be this pale right? Isn’t he from? Matthew feels lightheaded and begins to collapse once more before being jarred back to reality smelling the coffee and cinnamon scent still hugging his chest. Using this second wind he stumbles into bed, neglecting to change into his nightclothes and he quickly drifts to sleep.
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Matt falls into a dream that feels realer than the reality of his previous life. It’s the middle of the rush and he sees himself working at an espresso machine with Juan. He looks down seeing his body expertly maneuver around the bar, tossing cinnamon into drinks, chatting with customers in truly fluent Spanish. He pauses in this dreamscape to notice the tan he was so sure he had earlier. He sees the tattooed arms he has known for years, he worked hard enough for them after all, might as well show them off on the clock. He raises the hairy arms to flex at Juan and say something clever in his native tongue before being jarred back to reality by a sunbeam.
Matt awakens hearing his morning wood stretch his briefs to their near limit barely able to keep himself together before seeing the time and once more shouting “mierda!” He is already so late for work, they’ve been open for hours. It’s his first real day and he has already jod- he’s already fucked it up! He quickly inspects himself once more, seeing the true version of himself he saw in his dream. Seeing his recently shaved chest he quickly realizes he doesn’t have time for a shower. He smells his pits just to see how bad the damage is. His voice rumbles in his chest, “joder…”
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He smells again even deeper, it reminds him of? Oh it is just on the tip of his tongue, which he begins to reach out before remembering his predicament. He throws on a dress shirt before giving one last whiff to his pits, flexing his pecs as he does so. It is so fragrant, almost spicy. Matt postpones the mystery after concluding it should certainly be covered by the smell at Rosa’s and rushing out the door. Not seeing as his chest pops off the top button of his shirt and his neat goatee begins to grow even thicker.
Matt rushes into the door and is greeted like a regular, which he is of course to be now, as the new manager. He feels a warmth in his chest as Juan brings over his first cup of the day. “Buenos días Juan!” Matt offers before going to meet the chef, Benito, as the plan was today.
Making his way back to the kitchen he smells something even more distracting to him than his body odor this morning. Benito runs over with a plate full of arepas that Matt recognizes instantly before Benito greets him, “buenos dias jefe! Rosa said you wanted us to start serving arepas sí?” 
“Rosa? She said, I asked for these?”
“Si! Desde su ciudad natal no?”
Matt’s mouth is overcome as he starts to clearly drool for the plate in front of him. He has no choice but to tear into one which immediately brings him back. He loved these when he was a kid, but? Didn’t he grow up en los estados? Wasn’t he from? He fails to finish the thought in his head before it is wiped away as if fireworks are going of in his mind. 
He beams at Benito as his eyes glaze over and fully darken to brown. He feels an urge to burp which he chokes down with another cup of coffee. “Ay this takes me back amigo, estos son exactamente como, like the ones mi abuela había before nos pequeños…” Matt pauses as he feels a pervasive warmth starts to grow distracting in his chest as a similar itch begins on the outside.
He doesn’t notice as his inner monologue begins to entirely shift away from English, as it should of course. He may live in los Estados hoy, but he was colombiano born and bred. He remembers how hard he worked as a child learning English as his biceps start to clearly strain the already tight dress shirt.
Matt remembers fighting for his place to get a degree at a university that did not respect his native country or tongue as he feels his voice deepen beyond baritone and into a strong bass. He remembers trying to find a place in this mierda ciudad before meeting Rosa as his chest bursts open shooting any buttons remaining off his shirt. 
Rosa then enters the kitchen to see how her new hire has progressed and slyly smiles seeing his progress. She tosses a shirt at him saying in Spanish now effortlessly understood “Oi Matteo! You’re in the kitchen put some clothes on!” 
Matteo shuffles to the restroom to change as he looks one last time in the mirror and sees the flawless trajabador he sees every time he checks himself out. He puts on his nametag flexing to see just how much he can strain his shirt before returning to the cafe, ready to conquer another day in the life he has worked so hard for.
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churipu · 2 months
Note
hii ive been obsessed with your work lately and I hope ur doing well! make sure not to overwork yourself!! Anyways can u make a nanami headcanon where s/o comes home late because she’s working overtime but forgets to tell him?
COMING HOME LATE TO NANAMI ₊˚⊹
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featuring. nanami kento x reader
warnings. none
note. haiii nonniee, thank you so much for appreciating my works. it means so much to me <33 i'm sorry this one took so long and i hope you like it, mwah mwah
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i feel like in the relationship, nanami tries to talk you to quit your job before — but you felt like it was kind of unfair if he had to use his money to support you, so you always managed to decline that. even if the male was a bit disappointed at your decision, he didn't want to force you, so he lets you be.
you didn't have a cursed energy; a non-sorcerer. unlike him, you had a simple job of making coffees, alias a barista. the income was not too much, but still enough for the both of you (although nanami always ends up paying for your stuff because he insists).
the job wasn't too tiring, however today was a bit different — the store had gotten a rush hour in the afternoon, not that you were complaining about it as you signed up for the job anyways. and a co-worker had asked you to cover their shift because they had an family emergency.
really, you didn't mind covering for them at all. you were getting an extra for that and it counts — just it meant that you were going to be the closing shift for today, and everyone knows closing up meant it would be a lot of work; especially with the washing, cleaning up, mopping the floors, the coffee machines, everything.
you ended up closing the shop late at night, rushing to your shared apartment with nanami. opening the door in exhaustion, calling out a tired, "i'm home."
"y/n?" nanami appears from the corner, rushing towards you and then cupping your face.
in confusion you blinked at him, wondering what the hell was happening and why was he acting like this?
"you never texted or answered my calls, i was worried," he mumbles out, and it finally dawned upon you that during your shift — it was too busy that you hadn't managed to get to your phone at all. and it was on silent too.
"i'm sorry, baby. i had to cover up for my co-worker's shift, it was my mistake for not telling you," you smiled at him, planting a kiss on his lips.
nanami shook his head, "it's alright, please inform me next time," he kissed your forehead before pulling you into a tight hug, "how was work?"
"you won't believe how busy it is today, surprising. but it was fun, and i'm getting extra paycheck for covering my co-worker's shift!" you marveled out happily, and he gazes down at you fondly, kissing the crown of your head.
"i'm glad then," he mumbles out to you, "if i tell you to stop—"
"still a no from me," you kicked your shoes off and walked towards the living room, sparing him a cheeky smile, "i like working, plus, it's not fair that you have to waste your money for my livings too."
nanami heaves out a sigh, "my money is your money."
but he didn't push on, what mattered is that you enjoy working. nanami will undoubtedly still pay for your things, telling you that you should just save your paychecks incase he goes broke (which will never happen).
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hvaneyflowers · 3 months
Text
First love... and the only. ***********
Lewis Hamilton x femreader! single mother!
You took your little son to meet Santa Claus and accidentally ran into your ex-boyfriend, Lewis Hamilton.
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You and Lewis were together for three months during your high school time. You broke up after he started to get more serious with his racing career, and you decided that it didn't go with the lifestyle you had planned for you.
So you went to college and met a new guy, while he became a seven-time world champion. You got married and had a beautiful son, but your husband cheated on you with his secretary and left without saying goodbye. So now, you were a single mother of a toddler named Lucas. You were happy with your life. Being a mother was the best thing that had happened to you, but, deep inside you still miss Lewis. Every time you see him in the news you wonder how life would have become if you two were still together. Maybe you'd have the family you always dreamed about.
Little did you know, was that Lewis still misses you, too. He was engaged to his girlfriend of 7 seven years, Nicole, but never found the same happiness as he had when he was with you. He always thought about you and what had been life for you. He found your Instagram and found that you had a son, so you must be married. It hurt to see you with another man, but he knew he couldn't complain because it was you who decided to put a stop to your relationship.
Indeed, it was you who broke up with him. You were young and you were scared of the life he had planned for him. Becoming an F1 driver and a world champion. It sounded fantastic a first, but you immediately realized that it wasn't for you. Or that was what you wanted to think. You were scared of the fame he would have. All the people around you didn't stop telling you how he would cheat and leave you for a supermodel, or how he would be at parties every weekend and fall out of love with you. You didn't want to get hurt so you decided to break up with him.
Now you were with your little one waiting to meet Santa at the same place where Lewis was doing his Christmas shopping with the dog that would catch your son's attention.
******
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yourusername: we met Santa! 🎅
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*******
"Come on, my love. We're going for a piece of chocolate cake!" you told your little son.
"Pup!" your one-year-old screamed enthusiastically as he saw a dog walking near him. He let go of your hand and ran fast to the dog.
"Lucas! What have I told you? Never let go of mommy's hand when we are outside with a lot of people." you scolded him, putting on your knees to be his height.
"sowee, mommy. But pup!" he said pointing to the dog again.
"Be good to him, okay?" you warned him.
"y/n? y/n l/n?" someone asked behind you.
You frowned your eyebrows as you listened to your name. That voice. You could swear you've heard that voice somewhere. Maybe on TV or the radio. But who was its owner? You turned around slowly only to find your high school sweetheart. Lewis Hamilton.
"Lewis," you whispered in shock.
In front of you was the seven-time world champion of Formula 1, Lewis Hamilton, or as you used to call him, "my love". He looked just as surprised as you. You had never seen each other again since your graduation more than 15 years ago. He looked so handsome. Age has been good to him.
"Pup!" your son's voice got you out of your thoughts.
"His name is Roscoe. Roscoe, say "hi" to our new friend," he kneeled down, petting his dog.
"Say "hi" to Roscoe, Lucas. Be gentle, baby," you told your son, doing the same as Lewis.
Lewis looked at you as you were speaking to your little son. You looked as beautiful as you were the last time he saw you 15 years ago. He was still in love with you. He quickly took a look at your hand. You weren't wearing a marriage band, so you must be single. Maybe he can try to be with you once again. He won't let you go again. Not this time.
"Do you want to drink coffee with me?" he asked you without warning.
You looked at him in disbelief. You wanted to cry. Memories came through your mind, remembering how much you still loved him.
"Yes!" your son answered, running to Lewis. He laughed and hugged him.
"Do you want some hot chocolate, buddy?" he asked him.
"Yep" the little kid answered.
"And you, y/n?" he asked you. You looked him in his eyes, and you could swear he was almost begging with them.
"Yes, I would like it." you finally answered with a little smile.
"Fantastic! For the good old times." he smiled.
You went to a cafe outside the mall. Lucas was so happy to be there with Roscoe. They were best friends already. You sat in front of Lewis. You were nervous, like when you were a teenager on your first date.
"And... How are you? Long time no see." you broke the ice.
"Good. Everything's been good," he said.
"That's fantastic." You smiled.
"And you? You're a mother now. That's wonderful," he smiled, pointing to the toddler hugging his dog. Poor dog, you thought.
"Yes. His name is Lucas, and he's almost two. The best thing that could have happened to me. He's everything to me. My true love," you smiled, seeing your son.
"He's so cute, and I believe you're an amazing mother." he smiled at you.
"Thank you. I try my best." you laughed a little. You had missed this the most. The softness of being around him. His smile and laugh. God, you miss him a lot.
"And your husband?" he asked. Your smile faded down.
"I'm divorced. He left me for another girl. Much younger than me. We filled up the papers, and he left. He never came back, and Lucas doesn't know him and doesn't have his last name. It's only me and him." you told him staring at your coffee mug.
"He sounds like a jerk," he said, a little angry.
"He is," you laughed.
"I miss you," he confessed after a short silence.
You looked at him in surprise. He misses you like you miss him. Your eyes were full of tears. You wanted to cry. So many emotions and memories.
"Don't cry. I didn't tell you that for you to cry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. My fault." he tried to calm you down.
"It's not that. I just... I miss you, too. A lot." you confessed.
He smiled, and so did you. He rubbed your cheek with his hands and leaned to kiss you. You kiss slowly, not wanting to waste any feeling of it. You both had waited for that moment for so long. It felt unreal. When you pulled apart, your son was looking at you with curious eyes.
"Mommy?" he asked you.
"Hi, baby," you laughed at his cute angry face.
"Did you like your hot chocolate, buddy?" Lewis asked.
"No buddy," your son said, without looking at him.
You both laughed at your little son and spent the rest of the day talking about each other, enjoying your company. In the next few days, you were still in contact, and Lewis invited you and Lucas to spend Christmas with him. An invitation you didn't reject.
lewishamilton
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lewishamilton: Roscoe made a new friend at the mall, and I found the love of my life. Meet my first love and the only one, y/n. Love you, babe!❤️
view all 400 comments.
username2: WHAT?!
username8: DID YOU HAVE A KID AND DIDN'T TELL US?!
username0: I think that is his new girlfriend's kid.
username9: Roscoe looking good as always!
username3: Congrats! She's so beautiful. Sending love!
georgerussell63: I HAVE A BABY BROTHER!
landonorris: you meant Roscoe has a baby brother. You're more like an uncle. georgerussell63: I'm not so old! mickschumacher: if we're talking about ages, well, we should mention Fernando. He's the oldest. landonorris: Omg, yes! He gives vibes of being the grandfather! georgerussell63: So it's like this: Me: the (favorite) uncle. Lando: the second uncle. Mick: the third uncle. Fernando and Toto: the grandparents. I like it. landonorris: me too. mickschumacher: 👍 fernandoalo_oficial: what?
username83: LEWIS IS NOT SINGLE ANYMORE! I REPEAT: LEWIS HAMILTON IS NOT SINGLE ANYMORE!
username98: she's so beautiful! Congrats! I hope you're very happy with her!
username76: YOU'RE A DADDY NOW!
username4: that kid doesn't know who he has as a stepdaddy. SO LUCKY!
yourusername: ❤️
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tagged: lewis hamilton
yourusername: I've always loved you❤️
lewis hamilton: ❤️
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thef1diary · 1 month
Text
Little Big Fan | Five
- Little Big Surprise
Series Masterlist
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wc: 3.3k
The house felt too empty, too quiet.
Isabella has been at her father's house for the past week and you missed her dearly. So, you had to find new hobbies to pass the time. You should've been used to the days she isn't home but you still aren't.
A new addition to your routine was your newfound hobby; watching Formula One races, or more so, watching Max race.
You would've been a fan even if you didn't know him personally, purely based on his driver skills, but that little detail made every moment of the race a tad bit more special. Your eyes would always try to find him on the track with the others, which he was in front of, leading.
You even found out that you could watch an on-board camera for a specific driver while watching the main race screen as well. It was very obvious whose camera feed you chose to watch.
This was the first time you watched the race after coming back from The Netherlands, mainly because it's only been a week since.
Though it wasn't fun watching the race without Isabella, or more like without her own added commentary.
Fortunately, Isabella's father would be dropping her off today. Until then, you had to find a way to pass the time.
Picking up your phone, your finger hovered over Max's contact. The last time you spoke was yesterday, when you congratulated him for the win over text.
You caught up on your pending work, meeting clients, writing up contracts, and even began designing the floor plans. One of the perks of working as a freelance interior designer, was that you could complete it at your own pace. The downside, however, was once you were done, you didn't really have anything else to do.
You worked for a few hours today, so your little break where you contemplated to call Max was well earned.
But before you could decide whether or not you wanted to call him, your phone rang with a call from him.
You quickly answered, greeting him with, "I was just about to call you, but I thought it'd be too late for you." You remembered that even though it was daytime for you, it was nighttime for him.
Max hummed, "too late? Oh wait, you're right, it's well past midnight." You furrowed your brow as his response confused you, but you didn't comment on it.
"So, what's up?" You asked, wanting to know why he called.
"You actually left something when you came to the race, and I kept forgetting to mention it, but I was thinking of sending it back to you as a package," Max explained, and you began to wonder what you had left behind.
"Yeah, sure that's fine, I actually have no idea when I'm going to see you again either." You shut your eyes tightly as you regretted the words as soon as you spoke them. "I mean—" you tried to explain but he cut you off, "I know what you mean and you're not wrong,"
You told him your address for the package, still wondering what you left behind, but dismissed the thought once you heard some noises on the other end. Specifically, noises that would indicate a person is outside, such as traffic.
"Max, are you outside?" You asked, wondering what he'd be doing out at this hour. "What no! Hold on, can I call you back in a bit?" He didn't wait for your response, just hung up the call.
You held your phone in front of you, looking at the dark screen as if it would give you any answers, but as excepted, it didn't. Then, you dropped the thought or at least tried to since Max did say he'll call you back.
You made yourself an iced coffee before falling into the depths of online shopping. Before you could decide on buying anything, the doorbell interrupted you.
"Max" you gasped as you opened the door, seeing him standing on the other side, holding a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands. "Hi," he grinned, eyes taking in your presence since it had been too long since he last saw you.
"You lied about the package," you commented though there wasn't any malice behind your words. "Consider me as the thing you forgot?"
You chuckled at his words but it quickly became quiet as you finally realized that he was truly standing in front of you. "Please tell me you have a work thing here and you're just stopping by because you were in the area?"
"I could tell you that, but it would be a lie," he shrugged. You hesitated before asking the next question, "and the truth is?"
"I just wanted to see you and Isabella again." Either he didn't realize the weight behind his words or he chose to ignore it but you stood there, holding the door, in surprise.
"And now I'm realizing it probably wasn't a good idea to drop by without asking you," Max's words lacked confidence but you quickly shook your head. "No, it's just that you keep surprising me by standing on the other side of the door," then you smiled and added, "this time it happens to be in a different country."
Again, he shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, but if he was able to hear the thoughts running through your mind, he'd know that this was a big deal to you. In the best way possible.
"So, can I come in?" He asked, as he was just idly standing by the door. "Oh yes, sorry."
He passed the flowers to you once he was inside. "I didn't know which flowers you like, but this seemed fitting," he explained the reason behind the sunflowers.
You wanted to ask why, but you held back because in the few weeks you've known Max, he always manages to say something that leaves you speechless.
"It's perfect, thank you. I think I have a vase lying around somewhere." You found one in the back of a cabinet next to your kitchen, and started filling it with water.
Max stood across from you and commented, "that vase should never be left empty."
You chuckled, more at the thought of the vase being full than his words. "It has been empty more often than not."
Although it was just a simple back and forth conversation, Max made a mental note to try and never let it be empty for as long as he knows you. Which he hopes would be a long, long time.
Max looked around the house, noticing a lack of a little ball of energy. "Where's Isabella?"
"At Tyler's. He'll drop her off in about an hour." Once you set up the flowers, you paused, realizing you have to make lunch for Isabella but you didn't want Max to think that you didn't want him here.
"Everything okay?" He asked, always noticing everything. "Yeah, I have to make lunch for Isabella." You didn't know what reaction you expected but it definitely wasn't a laugh.
Max stepped closer to you, rounding the kitchen island that was in between you two. "If you think you have to entertain me as a guest, who by the way showed up unexpectedly, I'm going to think you don't consider me a friend."
You broke out into a smile, realizing that you overthought the small situation. "I do consider you a friend, otherwise I wouldn't have ranted on and on about my job."
"I will say though, if you're making lunch, I want some too," Max added with a sheepish smile. "Isabella's lunch entails a homemade pizza and fries—made with freshly cut potatoes—because that's all she wants to eat every time she comes home."
"Fair enough, let's make extras for all of us," Max began rolling up his sleeves and washed his hands in preparation.
You couldn't help but laugh, "Max, what are you doing?" He looked at you as if his actions were obvious, "I'm going to help you. Did you think I was going to let you make lunch all by yourself?"
There he goes, leaving you speechless. You shut your mouth because you couldn't find a response, and began taking out the ingredients. "Just a warning though, you're gonna have to tell me what to do because I'm not the best chef," Max stated.
"It's okay, you can be my assistant," you responded which made him raise his eyebrows, "assistant huh? I like the sound of that."
You paused, looking at him with a playful glower before both of you broke out into laughter.
You passed him the potatoes after rinsing them, tasking him to peel and cut into strips to make french fries.
Although he didn't notice, you might've stopped a few times while kneading the dough to look at him. Unbeknownst to you, he did the same when you weren't looking either.
"So does Isabella go to her dad's often?" Max asked after a moment of silence. "Sometimes it's every other week, other times it's only a weekend per month," you explained.
Max had loads of questions about Tyler, but he was content in knowing only what you were willing to tell him. This time, you didn't continue the conversation about your ex, and Max understood that you didn't want to talk about it.
The topic was forgotten as soon as you accidentally smeared pizza sauce across your face. You truly had no idea how it got there, but only realized when Max brushed his fingers against your cheek to wipe it away.
However, he only smeared it further. He couldn't control his laughter as it spread and that prompted you to wipe it from your cheek and smear it on his.
He glared at you but it only lasted a millisecond as he grabbed a handful of dry flour. "Max," you warned, stepping backwards in an attempt to get away from him.
You didn't get far as his arm found its away around your waist to pull you back and hold you still. Then, he dumped the flour on your face, adding to the remnants of the sauce.
Your hands pressed against his chest to push him away but it was a useless attempt since he had you cornered against the counter so you had nowhere to go.
You spluttered since a bit of the flour got in your mouth and Max laughed at you. Then, you did the only thing you could think of. Grabbing Max's face, you rubbed your cheek dusted with flour and sauce against his. Now it was even.
Once the laughter died down, both of you noticed how close you were standing. Max couldn't back away because of your palms on his cheek and on the nape of his neck.
Your eyes widened slightly at the realization and you quickly dropped your hands so he could move. Max took a second too long to process that you weren't holding him anymore, before he created more space between you two.
Then, you noticed the time, "shit she'll be here in twenty minutes."
"You should go change, I'll take care of the rest," Max suggested and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "you're going to take care of it?"
He nodded like it wasn't a big deal. "You're the one who said you're not a good chef," you spoke with a teasing smile.
"I said I'm not the best chef, I can be a good chef," he reasoned and you couldn't argue with that logic. "Fine, as long as you don't burn my house down."
"I'll try," you heard him as you went upstairs to your room.
"He got me flowers," you muttered to yourself as you picked out a clean outfit. "He fucking got me flowers." The realization hit you hard, more so because you loved sunflowers, and he just happened to randomly guess the right bouquet. Which was something your ex could never do right even after you told him, mainly because he preferred roses and only bought you roses.
"It seemed fitting," you repeated his words, "Max, why do you have to be so nice?" You asked rhetorically as of course he wasn't there to answer.
You hurriedly went downstairs after washing up and changing to see whether Max had done anything wrong. Perhaps if he was a lousy chef, you'd have one complaint about him. So far, you have liked everything about him.
Fortunately, nothing smelt burnt, and nothing was broken. When you spotted him, he was frying the French fries.
You paused in your tracks, and took a good look at him so you could remember this moment later. Max looked very comfortable in your kitchen, in your house, as if it wasn't his first time. You hoped it wouldn't be the last.
"Looks like everything's fine here," you commented and he turned to look at you with a smile, "no burnt houses," he shrugged.
"The pizza still has a few minutes to go, and the fries are all done," he spoke as he gestured with his hands, but when he looked at you again, you had a stupid smile on your face.
"What?" That made your smile widen, "nothing, just, thank you for helping me."
"Always," he responded, already planning that he'll be around as long as you wanted him to be.
The doorbell rang, interrupting your peace but you were beyond excited to open the door and greet your daughter. Isabella definitely got the habit of being overly excited from you.
However, when you opened the door you saw Isabella standing beside Tyler with a frown on her face. "Hi angel, did you have fun?" You crouched down and ruffled her hair.
"Can I go inside, mama?" Her timid voice surprised you as she would usually answer that question happily. "Sure, sweetheart, I'll be there in a minute."
You watched her head inside before you stood up, closing the door behind you so Isabella wouldn't hear your conversation and faced your ex, "what happened?"
He scoffed, "nothing happened, I just told her that I won't be able to see her again as planned because I'm flying out of the country."
"Another business trip?" You asked and he nodded. "She usually doesn't get this upset any other time you cancel, did something else happen?"
"You know how she is, overdramatic," Tyler casually shrugged and that word ticked you off. "Don't you dare call my daughter overdramatic," you pointed at him harshly.
"Oh so now she's your daughter? Isabella gets upset easily, you know this."
"I do not want to hear you say that word again to describe her, I've heard it enough from you when we were together. Now tell me what happened."
Tyler sighed, and for a moment he thought about saying that Isabella was just like her mother, like you, but he didn't want to waste any extra time being around you.
"I introduced her to Emma," he stated as if it would explain everything but you furrowed your brows in confusion. "Who?"
"My girlfriend. Isabella noticed her around the house a few times so I thought it would be a good idea to introduce her," he explained and you were about to interrupt but he kept going. "I don't know if Isabella doesn't like her, but she's been in that mood ever since."
"Tyler, she has only seen us together, so of course if you introduce her to someone else, it'll take time for her to get used to it," you decided to explain in a calm manner.
"You don't have an issue with my girlfriend?" He asked and you raised your brows, "why would I? It's not my business unless it involves Isabella."
He shrugged, then laughed at his thought before saying it out loud, "well I hope that you don't have an issue explaining dating to her, that is, if you ever start dating again."
"My dating life is none of your business. Don't you have somewhere to be? Perhaps back to Emma?"
"Alright, I'll text you when I'm back in the country," he stated and turned around to leave but paused as he saw a new car in the driveway that he knew didn't belong to you.
"Whose car is that?" You laughed at his need to always be all up in your business, "goodbye, Tyler."
You entered the house with a sigh but the sight in front of you warmed your heart, making you forget all about the conversation with your ex.
Max was crouched down onto his knees to be at eye level with Isabella, who had two arms wrapped around his neck in a tight hug.
When Max heard the door close, he opened his eyes and saw you. He removed one hand that was resting on Isabella's back and gestured for you to come closer.
Understanding his silent gesture, you crouched down right behind your daughter and wrapped her in a hug as well, so she was sandwiched between you and Max.
You placed loads of kisses on her cheeks until she started giggling. Isabella let go of Max and turned to face you, "mama, you didn't tell me that Maxy was here!" Just like that, her mood was drastically different from when she first arrived at the doorstep.
"He surprised me too, angel," you spoke as your gaze shifted to Max.
"Did you watch him race yesterday?" You asked Isabella, but her mood dropped again. "No mama, daddy was busy."
"It's okay, you can watch the next one with your mama," Max spoke, and Isabella nodded in agreement. "Okay!"
Then Max gasped, "the pizza!" He quickly rushed towards the oven to check on it, making you and Isabella laugh.
"Maxy made pizza?" She asked as she sat up on one of the barstools, which also happens to be her favourite place to eat even if you have a dining table.
"Maxy and mama made pizza," Max corrected, as he watched you cut it into slices.
"Are you ready for school?" Max asked once all of you began eating. You and Max also sat up on the barstools beside Isabella.
"No." She simply stated. Max frowned, "why not?"
"It's a big school, it's scary." Her words made you frown, "but you're a big girl too now."
"How about we go shopping tomorrow? Buy a new bag, more school supplies, and anything you want," Max suggested and this time you didn't stop him.
You already had a plan to take her shopping tomorrow, mainly because you already knew that Tyler didn't or else she would’ve been beaming about it.
"Even the glittery clips?" Isabella asks with a bright smile on her face, making Max chuckle, "yes even the glittery clips"
"Oh what about ice cream?" Isabella asked, and this time you watched Max become the victim of her pout and big round eyes. He looked at you for help, but you pressed your lips together, holding back a laugh.
"Yes, we can get ice cream too," he gave in making Isabella cheer.
"Alright, angel, finish your food." You gestured to her plate and she quickly obliged, stuffing her face with pizza and fries.
You were glad that Max was here, able to instantly uplift Isabella's mood. However you couldn't help but think about Tyler's words.
You never thought about dating again ever since you broke up with your ex, especially since Isabella was a baby and almost always with you.
But now that she was older, beginning to understand relationships, you thought about her reaction if you ever introduced her to someone you wanted to date.
Plus, you never met anyone that would make you debate the decision of whether to start dating again or not, that was until you met Max.
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girlboypersonthingy · 1 month
Note
valentines day with lucifer pleaseee
YAASSS IM SUCH A LUCIFER SIMP *bangs on table* I love him so much, it’s a problem. Like look at him… 🥹 thanks for the request and ENJOY!
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(I don’t own this picture)
Lucifer x reader- Valentine’s Day 🤍
Whether you two have been together for 3 weeks or 3 centuries, he will ask you to be his valentine every. single. year.
Baby boy is such a hopeless romantic I stg
Goes all out too! Would never just get you flowers and chocolates. From the king of hell?! No way. Only the absolute best for his love.
In this case, this is your very first Valentine’s Day together!!! D’AAAWWWWW
You come home/back to the hotel the day before valentines and there’s red and pink balloons every where, rose petals all over the ground, the lights are dim and soft. Very much a romantic movie scene type thing.
“(Y/N)~” Lucifer calls out to you sweetly, softly as he watches you look around at all the new decor.
When he finally has your attention, he holds his gloved hand out to you, beckoning you to come to him.
You can’t help but smile as you run to hug him. He laughs softly against you before he pops the question, his arms gently squeezing you against him.
“(Y/N)? Will you be my valentine, sweetheart?” And all you can do is laugh and hold him even closer.
“Oh, Luci~ Of course I will!”
OBVIOUSLY this dork makes you a cool ass duck as a gift. It’s one that really relates to you, has something to do with your looks or personality or an inside joke between the two of you. It’s special just for you 🥹
Def wants to take you on a nice date somewhere. Maybe a fancy restaurant, maybe to a bar, maybe a coffee shop for some caffeine and sweets.
Def asks you what you want to do and leaves the choice to you. He’s fine with whatever as long as he can hold your hand and give you kisses every 2 seconds so often.
DEFINITELY picks you up in a fancy ass car with a chauffeur and champagne and everything!
Whatever you decide to do, he’s sooooo distracted the whole time. There’s so much on his mind rn and it’s all different thoughts about you, most of them innocent 😈
I mean how is he supposed to keep his thoughts 100% clean and innocent when you dressed so nicely for your valentines date and you keep laughing extra loud at his jokes and blushing bright red at every compliment he shoots your way.
Of course he dresses to the nines as well. He looks great in white, don’t get me wrong. But him in a deep red suit with pink accents for valentines?!,!!??!,? PLZ 😍
He also loves the way people stare when you two go out together. Sure, it’s not totally conventional for the king of hell, Lucifer himself, to be so deeply in love with someone of your status but that’s what really bonds you two. It’s not some arrangement or a deal made for your soul or anything besides true love and attraction for each other.
He loves and trusts you so much, you’re so different from everyone else who fights for his attention.
And you’re just thanking your lucky stars, wondering how the hell you pulled him. He’s so perfect omfgggg
He is sure to ask you if everything is to your liking, how you’re feeling, what you want to do next. He’s very observant and considerate.
It’s hard to even eat or drink or whatever you’re trying to focus on bc he keeps staring at you and holding your hand and winking at you Everytime you guys make eye contact.
Don’t get me wrong! He’s lovey dovey and super sweet all the time but on this holiday of romance and love, he’s going 1000 times harder!
He would totally take you back to his house to finish off your romantic evening.
Probably puts on some music and takes off his coat to get more comfy.
Offers you a drink and goes to make it himself, adding some cute little garnish to it just to be fancy for you.
Sits on the couch in the living room with you and keeps his hands on you in some way. Touching your thigh, holding your hand, rubbing your arm or your back.
Proceeds to talk your ear off about everything and anything as his hands roam your body subconsciously.
Luci definitely talks a lot, rambles on and on to you all the time. Hope you’re a good listener ;) he doesnt have many other loved ones to talk to you so you get to hear it all
He talks so much he probably often tells you the same story over and over again. You tell him “Yes, Luci. You told me this already.” with a sweet smile at least once a day.
Tries to kiss you but accidentally bumps his head into yours instead.
Now you’re both laughing so loud, blushing so bright red and can’t maintain eye contact for more than a second or two.
He probably cracks a joke to ease the tension in the room too. And even worse, it’s some lame dad joke or a pun lmaoooo
Leans in again, much slower this time. His eyes flutter shut and he purses his lips as he approaches.
His kiss is scorching hot but so so soft.
Maybe you guys have kissed before, maybe not. But this kiss hits different. Maybe it’s the Valentine’s Day sweetness in the air, maybe it’s because he’s so goofy and silly and comfortable with you all the time, maybe it’s the drinks you’ve had tonight, maybe all three?
But this kiss…is the most passionate you’ve ever shared with him.
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