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cheralith · 3 months

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vogue — 「 boss/fashion designer!geto suguru x reader 」

synopsis ; even without much knowledge in the world of fashion, you decide that it's in your best interest to work for the country's fashion magazine powerhouse. however, you begin to second-guess your decision when you're faced with the grueling labor of its one and only editor-in-chief who expects nothing less of perfection. can your efficiency meet his standards or will you be out the door before you can even blink?

content tags/warnings ; gn!reader, use of they/them pronouns, mild language, traditional japanese basis of (l/n) (f/n) used, reader wears glasses, makeup, and heeled boots, some mild manga and jjk 0 spoilers (three minor characters from each are introduced), uhhh suguru being a dick lawl, some parts not edited/not beta read

contains ; editor-in-chief!geto, fashion designer!geto, assistant!reader, assistant turned ****!reader, platonic roommate!ino, modern au, mild angst, some crack if you squint

word count ; 10.2k

notes ; heavily inspired by "the devil wears prada" and "paradise kiss", so there'll be some references i've dropped within this—see if you can spot them! also the censored is spoilers so until then, hehe.

now playing ; seven days in sunny june - jamiroquai

It’d be foolish not to know the household name of Geto Suguru, the ultimate male muse of Jun Takahashi whose title has yet to be reigned by another. He was the ultimate breathing mannequin of the iconic Yohji Yamamoto piece he had worn on the Milan runway back when he was just a teenager. It was one of the most staple pieces of the new century that helped open the gates of the mixing of world culture and avant garde fashion—an England-Japanese punk fusion of an ashen and tattered kasaya layered under the contrasting statement piece: the earth-toned gojōu-gesa splattered with weaves of gold—and it was that very piece that rose him to the top of the fashion world as one of the most powerful names in global fashion.

And how could he not? At seventeen, he was scouted as a model for Gaulthier and became his muse at the ripe age of twenty before several other worldwide designers began to fight for his eyes. It was only a few shrewd years later that he’d open up his own successful fashion line, RIIKO, named in honor of his late sister, resulting in it becoming one of the fashion line pillars in the modern century.

It didn’t take long after that, due to his fame and distinct education from Jujutsu University, rising to the top for Kaizen fashion magazine and ruling it with an iron fist and several cups of coffee with almost all his designs on display for all to see in the office. It was due to his work that Kaizen became the powerhouse of powerhouses of fashion editorials and magazines and it was solely his work that made fashion what it was in present times.

Whether it was direct or indirect, Geto had impacted the industry in all sorts of ways. Be it blossoming an upcoming supermodel’s name or setting new fashion trends, everything could essentially be traced to Geto Suguru.

So it’s understandable that many had called you a fool—a dimwit, even—for not understanding how big of a deal it was to become his junior assistant after lazily submitting your resume. Originally, you had just wanted to become a simple lifestyle journalist for papers like Sankei Shimbun or The Japan Times, but seeing how it was between a seemingly mysterious fashion magazine that mentioned, received gasps, or the measly and homely newspaper of The Hokkaido Tribune, a magazine you knew would only give new journalists the scraps of what they earned, the choice was obvious.

Whatever gave you more money, you’d take. Survival of the fittest, was this world not?

“Do not tell me you’re going to your interview at Kaizen wearing that?” Ino barks out a laugh as he finishes his morning cereal for breakfast, scanning your outfit. “You’re going to work in a fashion magazine, not some dingy corporate office.”

You sneer at him as you shove on your loafers (don’t mind that the leather is peeling slightly on the side). You think that there’s nothing remotely wrong with your overused gauntlet gray matching set of trousers and blazer with a slightly wrinkled button-up underneath it.

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes at your roommate and parttime brother figure. “What on earth do you know about fashion?”

“Enough of it to know that outfit is atrocious for that type of environment,” he states simply as he shoves a donut in his mouth. He kicks his feet up on the table, making you cringe at their nakedness. “Trust me, change if you can. Make a statement for ‘em.”

Ino Takuma sighs and glances at your thick spectacles that you’ve worn since early college. “And at least change your glasses for your contacts. Heard they don’t like those sorta things over there. At least not the prescription kind.”

“Can’t find them,” you grunt when you feel the weight of your shoulder bag heave down your body. “I’m already late, anyway,” you sigh, “Listen, if I don’t come back alive, which I will by the way, then you can dance on my grave all you want.”

“I’m holding you to that,” he chants before he lets out a haughty snicker that gets muffled instantly when you slam the door on him.

You throw insults at Ino in your mind, grumbling about how a mere job hopper like him wouldn’t even know the speck of fashion, how you refuse to take advice from someone who wears the same thing every day. There’s nothing wrong with the gray, you think. It’s safe and presentable, ordinary and professional, and you’d much rather blend in than stand out as you believe standing out and making yourself known is just a recipe for trouble.

Stretching out a hand on the street, you call for a taxi and humbly enter as you smooth out your trousers. The taxi driver eyes you in the rearview mirror with a questioning glint in your eye. “Job interview?” he asks.

“Oh, um,” you nod your head. “Yep! I'm a little nervous, haha.”

“Really?” he says as he gratefully steps on the accelerator a little faster. “Better get you there quick, then. Would hate to have you late. Where are you planning on working?”

“Kaizen Magazine,” you declare confidently, an affirmative look on your face.

“Kaizen?” questions the driver slowly as his eyes go to scan your outfit in the mirror again, his brows raised. “As in the… the fashion magazine?”

You nod with visible apprehensiveness. You think that maybe you truly were the only person in the world that didn’t know the impact of Kaizen, seeing as how a mere taxi driver even knew about the name and you didn’t up until a few weeks ago.

“I see…” he mutters. The drive there is a mix of silence and everyday morning conversations, before he pulls up to the building that held the key to your dreams. “Well then, here’s your stop.”

You let out a little gasp of excitement. “Thank you so much,” you reply as you shove some cash into the slot.

“Hm, well,” the taxi driver counts the money carefully, barely looking just before you close the door as he mutters, “Good luck, Plain Jane.”

You turn back to the taxi, your hearing a little awry. “Sorry, what was that?”

But when you turn back to the yellow cab, all that’s left is a billow of smoke and cinders. Dazed and confused, you quickly shake those feelings off before you head inside to the building that was now your shining beacon of hope with a determined smile still plastered on your lips. White is the first thing that greets you when you enter the building as it was essentially aired out onto every corner. White marble counters, white tile flooring with white grout, white frames of fashion icons—the white screams pristine and perfection to you and its message went very much noticed. You haven’t even met Geto Suguru yet, but you understood already that he expected nothing but excellence.

You ride up the elevator quietly and alone, trying not to focus on how your anxiety increased with each ding of the passing floors. The elevator screen seems to almost taunt you as it closes in on your doom, the numbers getting closer to the designated floor until it slowly pauses and shone brightly the number 21 in stippled red.

The doors slowly open and the light seeps itself back to your vision, white flooding your senses again. You carry yourself carefully down the hallway whilst taking your time to admire the many framed pictures of past magazines, multiple runway models, and scraps of newspaper articles. One specific piece catches your attention, however; it was large, almost half your body size and framed in a gilded black frame. It was a picture of a mannequin wearing a tawdry gray-black robe with the kanji characters of “summer” painted with purple messily atop. Layered was a loose, but well-fitted piece of thick green and gold cloth that looked much more refined to the messiness of the other materials.

You stare at it for what seemed to be forever whilst admiring the contrast and beauty of the work before your name is called out.

“(Y/N) (L/N)?”

Your trance breaks from the voice approaching you. You turn to see a short and young woman with dark blue eyes staring at you with a raised brow. “That’s you I presume?” she asks.

“Oh! Uh,” you nod furiously and smooth out your trousers again. “Yes… yes, that’s me. I assume you’re Manami Suda? The one I spoke with on the phone?”

She nods slowly, her eyes going to study your outfit which was a rather stark contrast to her own attire that highlighted an emphasis on shades of opal and navy. Her eyes have a similar glint in the way that Ino’s and the taxi driver’s had, further enunciating the message that your attire was rather… something.

“I see you’ve dressed up for the occasion,” she murmurs. Sarcasm going undetected by you, you grin as a response and think that a compliment from her was a sign you did something right. Her eyes go to rise back and meet yours again before she turns and redirects you to the end of the hallway where some rooms belonging to subordinal editors sat in, clacking away at the computers. There was one singular room that held the only door on the floor and it doesn’t take you long to assume who it belongs to considering the large letters of GS frosted onto the glass.

Two desks stood on each side of the door, one completely devoid of life and decorations. Manami guides you to the empty one and patted the top of it. “This will be yours if you manage to miraculously pass.”

Manami taps on her clipboard a couple of times, listing off a couple of requirements that you were most likely going to need in the future: efficient time management, ability to fight for what Geto wants, sharp memory, quick feet…

“And uh…” Manami flickers her eyes to you and the details (or lack of, in this case). She mutters under her breath quietly, “... a good wardrobe.”

You turn to her, internally wondering if you were going deaf today. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“A good, warm…” she squints, obviously finding the right word to keep that ignorant smile on your face. “... welcome to start off his day.”

She succeeds in her task as you merely nod with the same blatant grin attached. “Got it!”

Manami tours you around the floor of the office, letting you say hello to your future coworkers that work in the cubicles that send you worried looks behind your back. They obviously seem too pitying of you, knowing that your fate would be sealed as Geto’s potential right hand man the moment you signed that employee contract.

“This is Human Resources,” Manami gestures over to a room filled with chattering employees who seemed to be getting their gossip out before their day started. “You’ll contact them if you have any—” her phone dings suddenly. Casually, she pulls it out, only for all of her resolve to disappear in an instant. Manami then abruptly blows a whistle with her teeth, alerting everybody in the radius.

“Everybody! His morning facial was canceled!” Manami hollers. “Geto is coming in…” her phone pings again with another notification, and you can tell Manami’s heart instantly drops. “Oh God… he’s in the lobby! Everybody, places! You,” she snags the sleeve of your blazer and drags you along with her, your clunky loafers nearly tripping you. “Come with me.”

Manami takes back to where you first started and orders you to stand in the front of the blank desk with a look that screams both fright and anxiousness all in one. She lists off too many tasks that you need to do before he comes, but you’re so frazzled with trying to remember how to act in front of your future boss that you can’t even remember the first thing she told you.

“Help me arrange the drafts of the magazines from most recent to least recent before he—”

The elevator dings and all goes quiet; Manami tosses the magazines over her shoulders and positions herself firmly in her place, gesturing for you to do the same. The doors open and unveiled from two bodyguards is a man—a tall man, around six feet or perhaps even taller—dressed in noir fitted pants and a matching button-up closed only halfway to reveal a silk navy turtleneck. Caped behind him is a black velvet trenchcoat that you’re sure is worth half your rent and a watch plated on his wrist that is well over your life savings. He’s slightly sunkissed, with blue-black tresses of hair with a soft bang sneaking through and large plated earrings to match. His eyes, however, show a tint of color—a sharp dark amethyst that you think could cut through you like crystals.

But he’s almost hauntingly attracting—like a spirit. Something about him was an enigma and his aura was nothing less than powerful.

“Good morning, Geto,” Manami chants with an artificial happiness to her tone.

Geto doesn’t reply, just merely giving a silent blink before he sheds his coat off and tosses it aimlessly towards Manami. It proves to be heavier than anticipated, giving how she fights to groan from the weight of it. He’s handed his briefcase from one of the bodyguards and begins to open the door to his office until he pauses and turns and glances at you, the stranger.

“Hello,” you state with a slight bow. “I-I’m one of the interviewees for your junior assistant. My name is—”

“(Y/N),” Geto murmurs; his voice is soft and low. It’s all knowing, with indigo eyes boring into your own. “(L/N) (Y/N), I know. The one that graduated from Jujutsu University recently, yes?”

Adjusting your glasses to wave away the blurriness, you nod with anticipation. “Yes, that’s me.”

Geto turns back and opens the door, to which he only replies back, “In my office.”

You glance at Manami for confirmation, only given back with a jut of her head towards the door. All the unease you felt in the elevator comes hurdling back to you in an instinct and you feel as if you were no more than a peasant to someone that was essentially royalty in the fashion world.

Geto turns his chair to face away from you, shuffling a few papers over each other that appears to be your resume, before he spins it slowly towards you. He kicks his feet up lazily on his desk.

“It’s nice to have another Jujutsu alum to join us,” he says. His voice is still the same—a little baritone with a wisping edge of a whisper to it, but it almost sounds… bored. Unamused even. “A bachelors in print journalism… same as mine, hm. Tell me, is Professor Tengen still as loose as ever with their practices?”

You fight to fiddle with your glasses as you watch as Geto tangibly toys with his own, with his focus angled on the papers in front of him rather than you. “Um, I assume so. Though I believe they’re actually retiring this year.”

“Good,” he sighs in what seems to be relief. “Shame that the university had wasted time and money by hiring them. Truly, I hope they can find someone much better suited for their position.”

“Really?” you quietly question. You had only taken their class a few semesters ago and thought despite their rather… all too lenient disposition… you did learn quite a lot in their class. “I thought they were a rather alright teacher…”

Regret pools in your mouth from the moment you have finished your sentence. Geto finally goes to look at you from the edge of his glasses with a sharp look, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly.

“Tengen was merely a sorry excuse for a professor. They were rather nothing but a nanny who gave their students too much leeway,” Geto declares. “Though, I’ll admit, I am pleasantly surprised that you managed to take something out of that class.”

A laugh that’s just dripping with nothing but nervousness leaks out of your lips. “I suppose I had learned just a few things…”

“Mmh,” Geto nod nonchalantly, eyes drawing back to the papers. “Well. Let’s start with the basics. Why exactly do you want to work here?”

Geto already feels the cliche comments erupting. Had the person in front of him say at least one of them, he was ready to insert the papers he was holding into the nearby shredder. Or maybe out the window this time, he wonders—something nice for a change.

“I was inspired by your work.”

“It’s been my dream to work at Kaizen.”

“Fashion is my absolute passion.”

“I want to—”

“I’m just in need of a job, really,” you say lifelessly.

He goes to raise his head slowly from the packet and turns to you slowly. Geto doesn’t say anything, but his facial expressions indicate a blend of confusion and intrigue. A slithering tongue darts out to slick his lips, indicating you’ve piqued his interest. “Well, obviously. But why this job specifically? What about it stood out to you?”

You clear your throat. “I had learned recently that Kaizen is a rather prestigious mag—”

“‘Recently’?” Geto repeats quietly. “You hadn’t heard of us before?”

Lips thinning, you shake your head slightly. His eyes go narrow again to your dread, serpent-like. “My specialty is more in newspapers rather than magazines, I-I’m not too knowledgeable in that area.”

Geto goes quiet and the silence makes the air go thick. It’s then that familiar glint sparkles in his sullen eyes when they go to examine your choice of clothing—it confirms Ino was truly right in the end, as he lets out a smile-less chuckle that doesn’t do much to ease your brain.

“Continue,” Geto gestures and takes off his glasses to look at you, or you suppose your outfit, more properly. He folds his hands and places his chin on top of them. “You said you only learned about us not too long ago?”

“Yes, and I realized that perhaps working here for a while would, at least I hope, grant me access to other media houses,” you explain. It’s only then you realize that your declaration sounds absolutely ludicrous and almost disrespectful to the editor-in-chief of the most iconic fashion magazine in the nation. “Connections are quite powerful in this day and age, haha…”

“I suppose,” Geto mumbles with not much interest in your poor humor. “What about me? I do hate bragging but surely, you know about my name or at least my fashion line?”

Your hesitant countenance and silence tells Geto all he needs to know. He thinks that it’s almost some sort of marvel that no one has heard of him or his works before.

He sighs. “Do you have any experience working in any fashion-related activities at least?”

“Well, I once worked in a department store for a few months back in high school,” you say thoughtfully (and ignorantly).

Geto gives you a blank look. His blinks are apathetically slow.

“Um,” you clear your throat again and shake your head, timid. “N-no…”

“Then tell me,” he continues smoothly. “Why exactly should I hire you? You obviously have no taste in fashion and you hadn’t even heard of my name, let alone my magazine, until recently. What is there within that makes you want to work here other than you just… what was it that you said?” He air-quotes mockingly, “‘needing a job?’”

Your throat runs dry and limbs go stiff. A heat rockets to your face when you seemingly can’t get any words out to excuse yourself, much too caught up in the same of your ignorance towards Geto’s profession. And that’s all the response he needs to make his decision.

His hand takes the packet again and to your horror that you fight to keep in, inserts it into the paper shredder. The groan of it rumbles through the room agonizingly and you realize that Ino is going to have the time of your life planning your doomsday.

Geto gives you the mercy of breaking the thick silence first. “You may go.”

With a swift flick of his wrist, Geto dismisses you with a slight edge to his murmuring as he puts back on his glasses to examine the morning newspaper to not waste any more incessant time in the day.

You don’t even attempt to fight back with any poor excuses. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, the sting of them frustrating you to your wits end. Instead, you gather the last of your resolve and bid him through a strained throat good day and make your leave, humiliation and disappointment trailing not too far behind.

You hope that Ino will give a nice eulogy, at least.

Out of all the miracles that await you in life, you do not expect the one that comes in the form of an early morning phone call that wakes you at the ass-crack of dawn. When you pick it up with sleep still very much embedded in your eyes, it dissipates in the instant you hear Manami’s voice. It’s only then that it hits you why on earth she was calling so early and why she was demanding to know your whereabouts, claiming you were going to be late on your first day of work.

You think it’s some sort of cruel joke maneuvered by Ino, especially with how his comforts from last night were mixed with taunts. But when Manami’s voice finally registers in your brain, by some sort of miracle or stroke of luck, you have gotten the job as Geto Suguru’s junior assistant.

You don’t know how, but you don’t waste any time questioning how on earth you landed in such a position because you leap out of bed at 7:23 a.m. and manage to do your morning routine in the matter of what you think is a record-breaking fifteen minutes. Your ruckus manages to wake up deep-sleeping Ino, who, when you excitedly tell him to postpone your funeral, gives a groggy thumbs up before drooling back into his pillow. It’s 7:38 a.m. when you shove on your shabby coat and you realize you only have a mere twenty-two minutes left until you have to officially clock in for work.

At 7:40, you’re out the door and sprinting to the located coffee shop that thankfully wasn’t too far from where you lived.

At 7:47, you’re at the designated cafe whilst attempting to swim through the crowds of morning bustlers to pick up Geto’s coffee.

7:50, you’re sticking your hand out waving desperately for a taxi and tip extra to make the driver speed through as you attempt to make sure the coffees don’t spill out of their containers.

7:58, you arrive at the building and just barely make it into the narrow gap of a tight-fitting elevator, earning stares from the others from your rather… frazzled appearance.

At 8:02 a.m., you dash out the elevator and officially clock in for your first day at work at Kaizen Magazine amidst a birdnest of hair, clothes that were plucked out of your hamper, and what you pray to the heavens above are hefty layers of deodorant and perfume since you were given no time to shower.

When Geto comes in that day, all suave and composed, he takes one good look at you before sighing and focusing his attention to the more refined Manami and lets her take the gears for the day. The only attention he gives you that morning is the rough toss of his heavy coat—a cashmere pearl peacoat today—flung at your arms that nearly makes you tumble from its weight.

You quickly learn that working for Geto requires high demand and maintenance, as he is not one to skip over any details in his day. Not even three hours in your first day, you already have to plan out his future meetings, reschedule one with a rather feisty and insistent client, edit a forest of emails, finishing by dashing out five blocks on foot to the two michelin star restaurant to retrieve Geto’s weekly steak for lunch. Had this been your old corporate job, you only would’ve gotten half the tasks you had completed by the end of the usual eight hours, but you realized early on that you had barely scratched the surface of your future in Kaizen.

You think that after plating his steak with the shakiest of hands, you finally have time to relax during lunch time when you see the small hand of the clock finally hit 12:00 p.m. , especially since you and him were left alone in his part of the office together. But the moment that Geto saunters into the office again, he tends to you once again with a final task by himself.

“(Y/N),” he calls from the office, the scrape of his fork against ceramic cluttering your ears agonizingly.

You fight the urge to cringe from the sound as you scurry to the doorframe, hands stiffly intertwined together. “Yes, Mr. Geto?”

“No need for such formalities,” he remarks with the dab of a napkin to his lips. “They make me feel old, and I’m surely not much older than you are…” you think that’s the longest he��s spoken to you since the day had started. “Did Leibovitz confirm?”

Blinking, you tilt your head ignorantly. “D-did who confirm?”

He pauses and does that taunting slow rise of his eyes from his steak to you. “Leibovitz. Did she confirm?”

Silence fills the office, much like the silence that drowned you back at the interview. He clicks his tongue and dismisses you with a disappointed shake of his head. “Just go on your lunch,” he mutters, sighing.

Manami, the savior that she is, is called into the office after her break and is asked the same task and you watch with humiliation whilst packing your things to go on your lunch as she picks up the telephone and speaks to someone over the line before confirming to Geto that, “I’ve got Annie!”

“He hates me, Taku!” you cry out whilst flopping onto the dinner table. It’s ten in the evening and you’ve just come home after what was supposed to be an 8-5 shift. You suppose you should be used to this already after two months of working for the Lucifer donned ritually in white in the building, but you don’t know how much your sanity (and body) can take.

Normally, Geto is usually cold to those who he wasn’t familiar with, but you think that his distaste for you sours everyday. You notice that he’s beginning to pile you with the more urgent and busier duties and that he often stares you down more menacingly in the morning with those piercing purple eyes of his, like you were gum stuck on the bottom of his shoe. You thought it was just him being normal Geto Suguru, the man with the expectations higher than the clouds, and that you just were still adjusting to such a high-intensity environment, but it was today that your world came crumbling down when you overheard him muttering to his associates about you, tone icier than ever.

You were on the other side of the door, a fist going to rap on the glass with the other holding his afternoon coffee pick-me-up when you heard it.

“... can’t even do the most miniscule things right,” Geto had groaned. “I ask if Lanvin’s models are all good to go for next Thursday’s shoot and somehow, they have the nerve to ask ‘How do you spell Lanvin’? For fuck’s sake, I can feel my goddamn conscious just wither away by the second.”

You hadn’t heard Geto swear since you had started working there, but something about his venomous tone enunciating such words had made your blood run cold from the other side of the door. Not having the courage to face him after that, you left his coffee on Manami’s desk for her to tend to with a post-it note saying a sorry excuse for yourself before letting your eyes sob frustratingly in the bathroom, isolated from others.

The last time you had cried that hard was way back in childhood, where you had broken your arm from falling down a tree branch. But you think that Geto’s words had twisted through your skin and bone much harsher than that pain ever will.

“It’s a miracle how I haven’t been fired yet… I don’t even know why he hired me!” you wail.

Ino sighs from across the dinner table and you can’t tell if it’s a sigh of pity or a sigh of criticism. You learn that it’s both when he rolls his eyes at you whilst simultaneously pushing a plate of much needed food towards you.

“First off, you need to eat,” he presses, staring at your gaunt features. “The way your face is swallowing is making me feel like I’m living’ with a ghost. You’ve lost some weight, I’ve noticed.”

Awareingly, you touch your cheekbones and realize he’s right, for you feel the small disc of sharpness from them prick your fingertips. They’ve never been so cavern before. You suppose it’s because of the lack of proper meal time between your days and how you often eat small and very late dinners back at home, truly not enough needed fuel for you.

“Secondly,” Ino chews his tongue, wondering if he should really say what he’s about to say because of your current disposition but goes through with it anyway. He might as well rip the bandaid off now to let more time for the wound to heal. “You won’t like what I’m ‘bout to say, but you need to up your game. Severely.”

An aching body rises up from the table. You go to stare at Ino through glazed eyes and a pouty lip, asking him what he meant.

“Ah nope! Don’t give me that face and don’t play coy with me,” he hisses, looking away to not give in to your helpless puppy eyes. He can’t—he shouldn’t give you the easy way out and just say to quit—not when you’ve been earning so much bank that rent isn’t a problem for either of you anymore. He wonders, though, for a moment if so much money is worth your rationality.

He drags a hand down his face before placing his chin on it, examining your haggard appearance. “What I mean is that you need to see through Geto’s eyes. See what he sees when he looks at you. Tell me, if you had an assistant that showed up wearing things that looked like they were plucked from the clearance bin at a thrift store and didn’t show any respect for your brand, which just so happens to be a fashion magazine out of all things…” Ino eyes you with a raised brow. “You startin’ to follow me?”

Your fingers fiddle with each other. “... sorta.”

“Now listen,” he raises his hands up lazily in surrender. “I already know what you’re ‘bout to say about me not knowing’ how to dress in shit other than black and more black, but even I know that you should put in more effort into your appearance. That’s the first step.”

“But I have—!” you exclaim helplessly, “I-I swear, I’ve been trying to… but it’s not my fault that it isn’t up to his standards.”

Your roommate groans and rubs his forehead, not really knowing what else to do for your situation until an idea pops in his head. “Free up your weekend,” he demands with a sly grin that makes you a little uneasy. “I’m no fashion connoisseur, but you know who is?”

“And remember, we never touch anything with chevron on it, especially in today’s fashion world,” Yuki chimes as she slaps on a navy blue pageboy cap on your head and she prances about your bedroom that’s been littered with spare clothes from her very own closet she graciously gifted to you for the past weekend. “I’m so utterly relieved that the trend has dug its own grave.”

The past weekend had been filled with endless shopping trips and you shuffling in and out of clothes every minute, practicing how to pair items and colors together by Yuki’s teachings. Of course you should’ve known that Ino was going to contact the one person that he was within reach that was essentially a walking encyclopedia when it came to fashion. You’ve met Tsukumo Yuki before, found her to be quite delightful even, but you never anticipated she would be this giddy, especially about clothes of all things.

And she used her brain to good use for not only clothes, but the entirety of yourself. You never knew how much just a simple haircut could do your face along with small hints of makeup to emphasize the best parts of it. Dared not your hands go to a lash curler, but here you are now, making sure your powder compact and lipstick for the day was in your bag before you went out.

“Uh, I don’t think I ever mentioned this before yet, but thank you for helping my wardrobe out, it really means a lot,” you say just before she slides on a pair of gold bangles on your wrist. “Are you sure you wanna give these clothes to me? I’m okay with just borrowing them.”

“Nonsense, babe,” she wavers off before shuffling through your now-hearty closet, a closet that’s now bursting with many clothes given by her. “I needed space in my closet anyway, so take as much as you need.”

So (Y/N)’s closet is basically her trash can, a particular shaggy brunette thinks with a roll of his eyes. Ino fiddles with the piece of toast in his mouth as he leans on the doorway, watching as Yuki essentially treats you like her very own Barbie doll at such an odd morning hour.

“(Y/N)’s not a doll, Yuki,” Ino lazily calls aloud through a tired yawn. “You better get ‘em out the door soon or else they’ll get late for work. Especially need that money since the landlord’s been on our ass about increasing our rent…” he mutters, sniffing. “Damn bastard.”

She snaps at Ino to be quiet and let her work before she shuffles on a regal blue overcoat over your shoulders that completes your look. When you look at yourself finally in the mirror, you almost think there’s a stranger in your house from the way you look so dignified compared to the you just three days ago. It’s a simple outfit with not much layering, but it’s still enough to ooze charisma and elegance to wandering eyes. You’re adorned in a white weaved sweater with flared, light-wash jeans and white boots to match. Over the outfit lies the coat that drapes almost like a king’s mantle behind you and the pageboy cap as your crown.

Yuki creeps up behind you, her manicured hands on your shoulders affirmingly. “How’re you feeling, hun?” she asks quietly as she shares the same sight with you in the mirror. “Don’t you look wonderful?”

You know that it was all her work, it was all her creativity that made you into the artwork that you are now, so breathlessly laugh with a smile on your painted lips and thank her quietly once more before whispering, “Yeah… yeah, I do.”

Her eyes study you for another minute, going to stare at the glasses still atop your face. Yes, they were new and much more modern considering she quite literally called your old pair atrocious, snapped them in half, and tossed them over her shoulder, but she was still quite dissatisfied when you told her about your hesitance about using contacts. “Are you sure you don’t want to give contacts another chance?” she sighs.

You shake your head with a small smile, “I’ll feel completely naked without them,” you murmur, “Besides, I think they actually compliment this look, if I’m being honest.”

Her lips stretch out into a grin, too absorbed in her fashion education finally being used.

“Well then!” she begins to drag you by the sleeve out your room. “We wouldn’t want you to be late then for your first day as the new you, right? Let’s get you a cab!”

Somehow, you think you really are at your first day at work again from the way you feel that same fluttering in your stomach and from how the people you’ve once grown accustomed to seeing in the early mornings are not merely passing you with mundane nods of their heads but instead, greeting you with wide-eyed gawks and open-mouthed smiles. Some of them, a few who you knew but never spoke a word to, even do a double take and compliment you aloud on the new look. Even the cute barista in the lobby that never bothered to spell your name right at last did after finally taking a good look at the holder of the card.

When you exit out of the elevator, Manami nearly drops the pile of magazines she’s holding when she spots a refined and refreshed you. You offer a bright smile to her and you watch as her gasp slowly forms into an affirmative grin when you round your desk.

She laughs softly. “And who might you be?” she asks with a tease in her voice. “‘Cause last time I checked, that’s my coworker (Y/N)’s desk.”

“I murdered them,” you shrug nonchalantly, earning another chuckle from her. You take it as a good sign, great even, considering up until now, Manami had been rather stoic and a little indifferent towards you because of your amateurism; but now, you suppose that ditching that Plain Jane from just two days ago is finally beginning to do you good by finally grounding a proper relationship with her. “Shame, isn’t it? Poor thing.”

“Truly,” she nods. Her eyes trail further down until they spot something that makes her gasp. “Don’t tell me those are—”

“—the new calfskin gold studded Louboutin boots?” you finish for her. You flex your ankle and show off the ravishing red bottoms of your shoes. “Oh yeah.”

Manami squeals in excitement and rushes over to your desk, begging to take a look at them. “How on earth did you manage to get your hands on these?! I’ve been looking for them fo—”

The elevator dings again but with a tone that makes you and Manami flinch. Both of you stiffen and straighten out your posture, falling into a thick silence when out comes Geto traipsing out like he usually did—his aura being nothing less than dominating. You and Manami chime out in sync a good morning to him as he saunters towards his office as he begins to shuffle off his coat as usual to toss to you until he looks up and catches you in his field of vision.

He stops all of a sudden with his eyes dancing about your figure, a stark contrast to the rest of his paralyzed body. Geto’s lips thin all of a sudden, and so do his eyes when they scan your outfit. He takes in a sharp breath and opens his mouth to say something to you, yet nothing comes out, even as your eyes glisten with anticipation.

It merely instead zips itself close and he finally whisks himself into his office, coat still on and briefcase still in hand, and slams the door shut.

But not without glancing at you one last time.

Much has changed in the past month for the better.

Yuki was a godsend—she had been your guardian angel, your fairy godmother of sorts—because you swore your career life had taken a complete 180° the moment your closet was revamped. Ever since that makeover, you had felt so much more confident in your actions, so much lighter on your feet. The price of your efforts was beginning to pay off as well, as Geto began to slowly thaw his icier sense of self when you began to actually put effort into your appearance. His thrusts of his coat towards you began to become less aggressive, was significantly more lenient when it came to more of the impossible tasks, and had at one time actually muttered a ‘good morning’ to you and Manami after months of greeting with silence and judgemental glances.

She’d occasionally check up on you every once in a while, usually to offer new clothes that she didn’t want anymore. And by offer, it actually just meant packing them in a box from her place to yours with a post-it that’d usually read “With love, YT ❤” in neat cursive. Along with forming a close bond with Yuki, your relationship with Manami improved significantly, especially when you gave her those white Louboutins she was eyeing. She often invited you to lunch with her other friends, Larue and Remi.

The iconic John Galliano once said that, “The joy of dressing is an art.” A month ago, you would’ve never believed what you would think is a rather tacky statement, but now, you can truly see it to believe it. It never occurred to you to actually look at your surroundings closely, but you often would sometimes take a few seconds out of your day to admire the many colors and materials that would adorn your coworkers. Whether it be admiration for their sense of style or mild jealousy over luxurious pieces, you were finally understanding what makes fashion, fashion.

And your epiphany was awarded today with the task that you thought would never come into the light of your days working for Geto—being tasked with dropping off The Book.

The Book was a collection of pieces that were needed for the upcoming edition of the magazine, regarding it as being the most important item in the entire company. It was a duty that usually Manami tended to, but she hypothesized that you managed to finally get on Geto’s good side after a while and congratulated you. Manami spoke to you briefly about how trivial The Book was to both Geto and Kaizen. She told you about how you must guard it and Geto’s key to his penthouse with your life, and that you were to remain absolutely invisible to him if he was in the apartment. Manami told you because it was usually the hour he needed most concentration—it was during the later hours of the day that he usually mended last minute edits to the edition or he was working on his latest fashion collection since he was only able to work on it during the weekends as Kaizen took too much of his time.

Manami told you he would most likely be found on the second floor of his penthouse, and you were to remain on the first floor at all costs.

“The editors will finish The Book around 10:30 or 11:00 at night, wait in the office until then. Then, drop the book off at his penthouse at no later than 11:30 with his dry cleaning, too.”

Her words echo in your mind as you tiptoe out of the cab and look up to see a gleaming, glamorous building sitting in the heart of the city. It’s one you’ve passed a plenty of times—hell, you pass it on your way to work—but it never occurred to you that it’d be this antique white, Parisian-styled building that would be the abode of your boss.

“Take the elevator to the top floor and enter his apartment. Do not call out his name, don’t wander around, don’t even make a single sound. You are nothing more than a ghost when you step foot into his house.”

The only doors that are on the very top floor of the apartment complex are two large metal doors that sit before you. You enter the key into the keyhole and push them open with controlled force, closing them as quietly as possible with Manami’s whispers still floating about your head. You knew that Geto was certainly a man of luxury, but to see that wealth exempt in a form other than fashion was a sight that you weren’t sure if your eyes deserved to feast on. Sculptures and paintings decorated the foyer and hallway, adding occasional splashes of color to the ivory-adorned apartment. After hanging the dry cleaning in the designated coat closet, the first room you enter - and perhaps the only one you’ll ever be in - is the said living room with the glass coffee table sitting in the center of it.

“Place The Book on the coffee table in the living room. That’s it. Do not toddle any longer in his house and get out immediately. Don’t let curiosity get the better of you and just simply go afterwards. It’s for your own good.”

But oh, how curiosity is just a little devil of temptation that sits far too easily on your shoulder. A house holds the most of a person, and Geto is just an all too mysterious enigma for you not to at least dip your toe in. The doors at the end of the hallway are waiting for you, but so are the picture frames that sit atop the TV stand. You suppose… maybe another minute wouldn’t hurt.

Your feet carry you slowly to the stand and you crouch, adjusting your glasses to get a better look at the pictures. There’s only two of them—six by fours, both in oak brown frames. The first one is a picture of a smiling young girl with short chestnut hair sporting a smile with a cigarette between her teeth. Beside her are two boys taller than her, both making similar faces at the camera. One of them, the one that’s a little taller with silvery snow hair and opaque black sunglasses, throwing a forced, all-too wide grin that almost looks maniacal. It doesn’t require much brain power to know the other figure in the photo is a younger Geto Suguru, his hair shorter in a tight bun with a rare, but soft grin on his face, his gaze affectionate to the others.

The other picture is of the same two boys arm in arm with each other. Both of them are grinning now, with the white haired boy still smiling a little more largely than the other. It doesn’t take long for you to assume who the other boy was considering that the shade of purple sheathing his twinkling eyes is unique to only one individual in your life.

Best friends, you suggest in your mind as you study the pictures a little longer than needed. A minute, you thought, wouldn’t do much harm, but how utterly wrong your thoughts prove when you suddenly hear the slam of a door from the floor above. The crash of it makes you yelp and breaks you out of your trance from the pictures and your gaze suddenly snaps to the open stairs above you, as well as two voices echoing aloud.

“Y-you can’t—” an unknown voice wheezes. “I’ve been your muse for years. You possibly can’t just abandon me out of nowhere…”

“You say that as if I’m not doing that right now,” a familiar one replies back boredly. It’s Geto, and his voice makes your nerves electrify in fear because it’s in that moment that you remember that you can’t get caught inside of his house. “This is the last time I’m telling you, Shigemo. Get out.”

The man that you assume is Shigemo heaves heavy breaths. “You need me,” he declares.

“Needed. Past tense,” Geto corrects as he almost forces Shigemo down the stairs with an invisible force surrounding him. You can see their figures above you, Shigemo slowly stepping backwards with each step Geto takes forward. “You’ve done me well these few years, I admit, and I do thank you for that. But I suppose your expiration date has finally come.”

“I’m not a food,” Shigemo snivels. “I’m a person. Most importantly. I’m the reason your fashion line flourished, I was the inspiration for almost all your works. We’re essentially a team.”

They’re towards the end of the staircase, towards where you are still present in plain sight. Your eyes scatter about a place to hide in the meantime, but there are seemingly no places to hide that would hide you well without the notice of Geto’s eyes.

“A team?” Geto barks out a sarcastic laugh, one that makes shivers run down your spine from both the rarity of the sound and how utterly intimidating it is. “I work alone and I always have. There is no point on relying on anyone of any kind when my independence obviously pays off.”

“Who will you have then?” Shigemo retaliates with a whimper in his voice. “You know that I’m the only one that will tolerate you. It’s not like you can go crawling to Goj—“

“Finish that sentence and see what happens,” Geto hisses, causing the other man to fall into a forced silence.

Your eyes finally land on the small space between the fireplace and a pillar. It’s a space large enough for you to fill and efficient enough to hide you from sight. Unsticking your feet from the ground, you make a run for the small space, only for you to forget about the obstacle that was the ottoman sitting spitefully on the floor.

The thud that comes from your body almost rivals the volume of the door slamming open moments earlier and just like the door, it attracts unneeded attention. Geto and Shigemo stop their bickering for a moment to search for the cause of the sound, only to see you humiliatingly face first on the floor. Geto narrows his eyes at the sight of you, an unwanted visitor in his home.

A pained groan slips from your lips accidentally. You silently curse yourself for not taking the time to properly break into the tantalizing loafers Yuki bought you the day prior and wince at the pain blooming from your knees and chest. When you finally get up, you can’t help but notice that everything around you seems rather… hazy.

“Who is that…” Shigemo mutters.

Geto bites back a sigh and instead, pinches the bridge of his nose. He supposes that despite your improved mannerisms, your clumsiness still has yet to dissipate. Annoyed, he grunts out, “One of my new assistants.”

Shaking his head, Geto decides to deal with you later. His home is already suffocated with one individual, he doesn’t need another clogging the atmosphere up. He returns his attention back to Shigemo. “I thought I told you to leave,” he states, shoving his bag towards him.

Shigemo’s face paints a horrified expression once again. “Geto, please rethink this,” Shigemo pleads.

He lets out a chain of pleads and excuses for himself as Geto essentially escorts him out with just walking towards him, his face still icy. Shigemo ends up on the other side of the door to his penthouse and it’s there where his patheticness exudes the most—he falls on his hands and knees like a beggar, claiming he’d do anything and everything just to be by his side.

But his voice is suddenly cut short when Geto finally slams the door in his face, the thickness of them guarding him from Shigemo’s whines. He lets out another sigh and locks up the door securely before dealing with the other parasite in his house.

“I don’t think dropping off a book should take longer than thirty seconds,” Geto drawls as he saunters towards the living room, where you’re still on all fours on the floor, your hands tapping around. “So tell me, why are you still here?”

At the sound of his sharp tone, you freeze. You’re sure you looked utterly stupid and a mess right now, considering that you had just lost a fight to an ottoman out of all things, but you couldn’t let Geto see you in such a state. It didn’t take you long to realize that the reason why everything around you looked so blurry was because of your now-missing glasses that you attempted to look around for. But you pulled a Velma, and just like her, you can’t see without your glasses.

Everyone thinks it’s an exaggeration when you state that you felt utterly naked without them, but you truly did. You’ve been wearing glasses ever since childhood and you really didn’t appreciate the looks you had gotten when you were younger when at times you’d take them off. Some complained that your eyes were too small, too big—others mentioned you looked “off” and “weird” without them. Either way, comments from the other children stuck with you like scars, and ever since then, you refused to be seen without them.

“I a-apologize,” you stutter, shuffling your body to hide behind the recliner so Geto wouldn’t see how much of a clutter you are. You’ve humiliated yourself too much already in the office and the last thing you truly need is for you to get fired merely because your curiosity got the better of you. “I was about to head out and th-then I heard your voice from upstairs and—”

Your words fall deaf on Geto’s ears. He lets out another groan while stretching the aching muscles in his neck as he closes in on your disorderedness. A hand goes to shield your face—you don’t want him to see the bareness of your face, especially since you didn’t bother wearing makeup today. You can’t even bear the thought of him looking at it. In a rushed state, you wander around for your glasses with your head tucked in, using the remnants of your hair to curtain your face.

A jumble of excuses tumble out of your quivering lip, but Geto is too preoccupied with the gleam of something catching his eye. Laying flat on the floor are a pair of glasses that doesn’t take Geto long to presume who they belong to. He plucks them from the ground and examines them for a brief moment before holding them above you.

“I assume these are yours,” he asserts with a cocked brow.

Your head snaps up at the sound of his voice directly right above you and through your foggy field of vision is the seraphic figure of Geto holding what seems to be your glasses. Lips escaping a relieved gasp, you hurriedly scramble to your feet. Your eyes are too poor to see it properly, but Geto also shares surprise, but for an entirely different reason.

He doesn’t give you the sanity that is your glasses right away, because he’s much too preoccupied studying your face. It’s so… fresh. Your glasses were hiding such a view, like curtains to a window that unveiled the utmost rare and breathtaking sights. The way your eyes are wide open, pupils blown with a touch of singularity makes him even more intrigued because of how they’re uniquely placed onto your face along with the rest of your features. Your lips, plump with a natural sheen to them—your cheekbones, perfectly rounded. The slope of your nose fell just right. Geto studies it like an artist to a blank canvas, devoid of anything yet holding just the perfect amount of space—wanting, waiting to be filled with anything and everything.

When his eyes stare at you in what seems to be bewilderment, you swallow thickly and look away. But you can only glance at your surroundings for less than a second before Geto takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning your face toward him again. It’s then that you realize that Geto isn’t staring at you, but your face as a whole. His eyes flick with small movements, dancing about as they go from eyebrow to lips, freckle to lash, examining each and every single particle that your face has to offer.

You feel a heat creep onto your cheeks. You’re not sure whether it’s because of the closeness you and him share or the fact that you can’t detect his opinions on the one thing you’ve been disclosed about for years, but either way, you feel weak in the knees; it only worsens when Geto’s thumb brushes over the entirety of your bottom lip, feeling the plushness of it on his the pad of his finger.

“Has your face always been this open…?” he murmurs softly as he studies the various angles of your face.

You aren’t sure whether it’s a compliment or insult, either or neither. Geto’s tone always had a sort of bleakness to it, but in this very moment, you truly can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“My glasses…” is all you manage to squeak out, fighting the urge to squirm in his grasp. Another gulp goes down your dry throat when Geto’s face contorts to an irritated confusion before he realizes his other hand holds the one thing dear to your heart.

“Oh,” he mutters and hands them back to you. His opposing hand finally goes to release your face. “Right.”

Shaking hands go to put them back onto your face again. Sighing internally of relief of your now crystal-clear surroundings, you dust yourself off with your head once more, tucked into your chest.

“I’m so sorry for this,” you whisper. The heat on your face has now spread to the entirety of your body, your nerves alight with the rush of adrenaline. “I-I’ll make sure this never happens again… good night.”

With that, you scurry yourself out before Geto has the chance to falter. All words to urge you to stay to either scold you or excuse you evaporate on his tongue. He can only watch in a strange silence as your figure rushes down the hall and out the doors, the click of them ringing out in his penthouse.

After moments of self-paralysis, an unknown feeling boils inside the pit of Geto’s stomach. He thinks he’s seen your face before with the familiarity of it unsettling him. The ghost of your face prances about in his mind as he slowly climbs the stairs to his sewing room, ignoring the shattered wine glass on the floor thrown by Shigemo. He instead, refills his own glass again with the nearby bottle of merlot wine and savoring the thickness of it running down his dry throat, embellishing in its warmth.

A single, large window faces the busy nighttime street and Geto walks and stills near it, watching carefully as the speck of your figure on the street below calls for a cab. He eyes how you turn towards the building one more time, doing your usual adjustment of your glasses (it’s a habit you often do in times of nervousness, he’s picked up) before you shuffle yourself into a cab that speeds off into the night.

Geto lets out an annoyed click of his tongue. Something about your face seems haunting and he doesn’t enjoy it. The last thing that he needed for today was even more plaguing thoughts in his head after the loss of his muse not even just ten minutes ago, but now with your face staining the back of his head, his jaw grits in irritation. In a poor attempt to take his mind off the excursion of today and the future, he shuffles about his many sketchbooks to look for any designs he could pluck out for his latest collection.

It’s an hour in, two glasses of wine later, and somehow, he still hasn’t found a single piece to begin working on that fits into his theme. Miraculously, through the vast array of what is thought to be thousands of sketches, Geto hasn’t found one that stood out to him until he gets to the last sketchbook. It’s an early one—he thinks it dates back to his early college days, when he was just beginning to peek into the world of fashion. A pang of nostalgia hits him all of a sudden when he flips to a specific page that was the start of his history.

It’s the very design that had the attention of many designers. The sketch featured a gold and red embellished outfit, a sheen of glittering flickers adorning it. The shirt features a mosaic of gold and small flecks of color here and there, imitating the many church mosaics he’d often admired as a child. The skirt and collar of the shirt were the same shade of blood red, crimson gems bespeckling them.

It’s not the outfit, however, that makes his eyes harden. Why would it? He’s seen it many times before. It’s been brought up over and over again—in interviews, in magazines. It’s one of the staples that made Geto the pillar that he is. He knows every detail of it, much like his other designs, so it isn’t the design of the outfit that made him appalled. It’s instead, the person that’s wearing it.

Because somehow, the eerie sketch of the model’s face that he had drawn years ago…

… somehow replicates your own face perfectly.

a/n: first jjk fic in forever! wowie it's been much too long... also if u need a refresher on who shigemo is, he's the guy with the ponytail that nanami pulled kekeke

10.2k is hefty i know but i couldn't help myself my bad lolol T_T currently just a test run of what i hope to be is a series that some may be interested in because clearly this barely scratches the surface of what i want to embed haha so please let me know how you like it so far :))

continuing, i hope you enjoyed and thank you for taking time out of your day to enjoy my craft, whether it be your first time or your hundredth! once more, likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and are always appreciated (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ !!!

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pseudowho · 5 months

Text

In Flagrante Delicto

Higuruma Hiromi will fight your help and guidance every step of the way...until one night, he catches himself needing you desperately.

An AU where Higuruma is forced into the employ of Jujutsu High after his role in The Culling Games.

Warnings: 18+, sex pollen!, angst, smut and fluff, Hiromi being willing to argue with anyone about anything, with a little bit of sex pollen needy Hiromi

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Higuruma Hiromi was undoubtedly the most difficult mission you had ever been given.

Tasked with walking Hiromi through 'the systems' of the Jujutsu world, you, a sorcerer who had been introduced to this world more conventionally, had absolutely nothing in your armory to counter the veritable force of nature that this man was.

You argued, constantly. He forced you to acknowledge the hideous insufficiencies and injustices in the system you worked for, at the most inconvenient of times.

Your patience was a finely tuned machine. You had perfected your ability to debate and discuss the ethics and morality of Jujutsu sorcerer activity, both legal and illegal, over a number of years.

But Higuruma Hiromi had driven you to drink. One evening, sat at home, deeper into a bottle of wine than you had anticipated, you received two messages in quick succession; one, from Yaga ("Mission with Higuruma tomorrow. Details to be sent over by Ijichi") and the other, from Higuruma ("I look forward to continuing our discussion tomorrow"), and you groaned, sinking the rest of your wine, and hoping it was enough to get you through the chaos of Higuruma's mind.

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"So," you started, approaching the subway with Higuruma, "lots of late-night civilian disappearances on this one line," you pointed to your map, "and two Second-Grade sorcerers have already disappeared in separate incidents. What does this tell you?"

Higuruma was silent, musing as he tapped his gavel lightly against his hip. Reaching his conclusion, he turned to you with a wry smile: "That your higher-ups knew, by the first Second-Grade's death, that a Second-Grade wasn't strong enough, but sent another Second-Grade anyway."

You sighed, deep and weary, "While that's probably true, we don't know they're dead--"

"Well they're not playing Scrabble, are they--"

"--and that's not the answer I'm looking for--"

"Well, I'm not here to be charitable, or unrealistic."

"Oh, are you here to be insufferable?"

Higuruma half-laughed, "Preferably. God forbid I should be sufferable--"

You swiped his gavel from his hand, and tapped him sharply on the forehead, "Higuruma. Please. I'm begging you," you clasped your hands for dramatic effect as he assessed you, a sardonic half-smile in his hooded eyes, "the quicker you play the game, the quicker you and I can go our separate ways and you can just go out and do this by yourself."

Higuruma's lip curled up in bitter distaste. He wiggled one finger into the knot of his tie, loosening it with an irritated twist of his neck. "I'll reiterate," he said, considered and flat, "that my joining the Jujutsu sorcerer's established hierarchy is a Hobson's Choice."

"If I want to go about making some positive changes to this cesspit," he spat, "I have to prove myself trustworthy in their eyes, and atone for my crimes by playing their game." Higuruma approached you, his chin tilted down as he looked through you, with sombre eyes.

"And the sad thing is," he said softly, now inches from you as you burned under his scrutiny, "you've been playing their game for so many years, you've convinced yourself that the rules are fair."

You swallowed, meeting his gaze; your agreement with him passed as an unspoken pact, but you were, as of yet, unable to betray your established part in this system with words. Higuruma nodded, slowly, understanding.

"So I'll inconvenience you as little as possible," he reassured, "and try to be a good boy today." You closed your eyes, breathing in through your nose, and out through your mouth, counting to ten. Opening your eyes, you caught up to Higuruma, who was already halfway down the empty subway steps.

"Please don't go ahead without me," you pressed, "I know you're not completely inexperienced, but fighting Curses is much more nuanced than fighting Curse-users."

"But they're brainless, right? By all means they're probably easier." You tilted your hand from side to side.

"They fight on instinct. We can be guilty of overthinking something that's primal for them. I'd never assume I can out-think evolution."

Higuruma hummed, satisfied with your answer. You were relieved to have averted another argument. Reaching the bottom of the steps together, your shadows were short in the low eerie glow of the empty subway system.

"So the victims got on a train, but never got off it," Higuruma confirmed with you.

"But it hasn't been the same train every time, so it seems to--"

"--pick a host. Right. And you've asked the station master to keep to the same train schedule tonight?"

"Mhm. No people around though."

"So, we could always just get on trains until we're attacked."

"That is completely reckless, and I won't--"

Higuruma breezed away down the corridor, his slim suited figure sloping away so lackadaisically that you felt annoyance bubble up in your throat.

"You don't have to come," he called back, relaxed and confident, "I've got this covered." You ran after him, grabbing his upper arm. He stopped, annoyed and impatient.

"Just...trust me," Higuruma urged, "try something new. You may be pleasantly surprised." He gripped your hand, firmly breaking your grip as he stared you down.

"How can I trust you? I barely know you."

"Then why are you worried about me?" He taunted, heated and scathing, "Not really what you lot do, is it? Worry about each other?"

"Well I worry about you," you snapped, "I worry about you every day and every night since they tasked me with taking care of you." You swallowed, embarrassed by your outburst. Higuruma hesitated briefly, looking...touched? He spun round, his back to you now, tapping his gavel in irritation against his thigh.

"That settles it then," he said, convicted and grabbing you by the hand, "you've got to come with me. It would be cruel not to let you worry. Come along."

You were pulled through the dim corridors of the subway system by Higuruma Hiromi, protesting the whole way.

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"-- so stupid, you could have died--"

"-- but I didn't, and I'm fine, so stop worr--"

You slapped the wounded shoulder you were currently patching up for Higuruma, and he made a noise of protest as you scolded him, "Stop telling me to stop worrying," you cried, pressing gauze to his cuts, "because I've worked in this shitty system for years, so I know that if we don't worry about each other, nobody else will worry about us, and you have no regard for your own wellbeing--"

Higuruma's head snapped up, smiling, "So you agree," he pressed, excited by the new development, "that the higher-ups have no intention to safeguard any of you--"

"--I never disagreed with you, Higuruma. You just...missed the point. As usual."

Higuruma turned, unable to look you in the eye as you continued dabbing the back of his shoulder. His eyes beseeched you to continue, dark and quizzical.

You continued, your voice tight and upset, "Whether or not we fight back against the higher-ups, makes no difference. Almost every sorcerer in this wreck would go where they were sent anyway, because at least we have a chance of defending ourselves against the monsters out here."

You sighed, taping bandages down, Higuruma's bleeding now settled, "So that's what I decided to do. I expend my energy protecting the non-sorcerers because they're the weakest link in the equation. They can't defend themselves. It's the right thing to do. I'll fight the big fight on my days off."

Higuruma was quiet, allowing himself to be chastised. He rolled the gavel between his hands. He suddenly felt so exposed, shirtless in front of you, feeling every touch of your soft hands as they assessed his ribs, and he gulped, unusually unable to find the words to say.

"Do you, uh...do you want to grab a drink? After we're done here," he offered weakly, eager to spend time with you outside of these roles you were forced to play.

"No," you emphasised as he rubbed his nose, "you'd probably tell me my drink order was wrong." Higuruma sunk his face into his hands, laughing.

"I'm not that bad--"

"You are dreadful. I love the...the passion you have, but I'm just...I'm tired. I'd rather go home." Higuruma nodded, thoroughly shot-down, respecting your refusal.

Sloping home that night, insisting he'd prefer to walk over being dropped home by Nitta, Higuruma considered he may have been fighting the wrong person for weeks now. Torn between 'playing the game' to get out from under your feet as soon as possible, and resisting becoming part of another broken, unjust system, Higuruma found himself erring unusually on the side which benefitted you over anyone else.

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In the midst of battle, you found yourself separated from Higuruma, cold dread seeping into your belly as you realised there was nobody else here to save him from himself. Distracted, you took a major hit, thrown by some sordid thrashing beast down an old brick staircase.

You had largely protected your body in swathes of your own Cursed-energy, but still had the breath forced out of your lungs as you had hit the wall below. The Curse, enormous and puce-coloured, roared down the stairs after you.

Trying to stand on a dice roll, your numbers came up short and you stumbled, heart lurching into your mouth.

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You and Higuruma had been assigned to clear out a growing populace of curses in an abandoned block of flats. Trying to talk to him, to plan tactics and methodology, Higuruma had seemed quietly indifferent towards you on the journey there. Refusing to engage with you on any serious level, he seemed almost bored of you, staring impassively out of the window throughout.

You tried not to be hurt, reminding yourself you were here to assess whether or not Higuruma was safe to act independently as a sorcerer. After his series of murders in the Culling Games and before, he was offered two choices: work for Jujutsu High, or refuse and face being hunted down and executed. But, he was an adult, and his safety was ultimately not your jurisdiction if he refused to take your advice.

And yet...the thought of his death by any means filled you with a sickly dread.

Because in reality, Higuruma represented the idealism, the ethical standards that working within a broken system had steadily stamped out of you. Your anger towards him was a projection of your own shame at having fallen into line when you wanted nothing more than to rebel, to protect the weak, including your own colleagues, despite the resistance.

Even worse, Higuruma saw this, and his disappointment in you only deepened your shame. You were meant to be 'helping him' to adapt to your world, and you felt sick to your stomach as you tried to contaminate this man. You felt sicker still as you felt yourself creep closer and closer to his way of thinking, wondering if you fit in this world anymore.

You couldn't tell him how deeply you admired him for being everything you had fallen so far from.

After efforts to interact had fallen flat, you sat beside each other in stony silence. Still, you felt, despite his feigned indifference, anger poured off him, not cold, but white hot.

"What have I...what have I done?" you asked, afraid of the answer.

Higuruma looked at you, eyes still glowing like little coals in his impassive face; "What have you done?" he retaliated. You sighed, a short breath out of your nose.

"...you're not ready to be sent out alone yet. You're reckless and you've got by on luck so far, but--"

"--so you saw fit to carry on this babysitting charade by telling the higher-ups that I'm a danger to myself and others around me." Higuruma scowled at you, not trying to conceal his fury anymore. You blushed, feeling the shame twist in your throat.

"...you...assume you're going to come out on top in every fight, so you don't assess the danger before you jump in, and it's just a matter of time before-- before you--" You reached out to take his hand, desperate to communicate your fear for him in a way he would understand. Higuruma moved to pull his hand away and you held on harder.

"I just...couldn't stand to see you die some pointless death," you urged, "I need-- we need men like you." Higuruma appeared unmoved, silently allowing you to squeeze his hand. Eventually, his long fingers slowly closed around yours.

"I don't think anyone's cared about me this much in years," he replied, as lightly as if he were talking about the weather.

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Brickwork and rubble clouded your vision as the floor rumbled beneath your feet, the Curse blown sideways, shunted by a comedically large gavel. You felt a taut-muscled arm loop around your waist, yanking you to stand-- "get up, come on-- NOW!" -- and you half-ran, half-staggered through a devastated corridor. Your heart sank as you spotted the staircases downward completely collapsed, leaving you both stranded on the fifth floor.

Higuruma appeared, dusty and spitting, wiping residue out of his eyes and slamming his hand to a button on the wall. In a wild flurry, the Curse turned the corner, screeching and hissing, and with a *ping* the lift doors opened. Not looking back at you, Higuruma shoved you into the open lift, slamming his hand on the button again for the doors to close.

"No-- Higuruma! Hiromi!" You skidded across the lift on grazed knees, wedging your arm between the doors with a yell as they closed around it. The lift didn't move down, and you heard Higuruma's incoherent shout of rage at you as you forced the doors open, reaching out for him and dragging him in by the back of his collar, and hammering the 'close doors' button repeatedly as the Curse, still dazed and staggered, made its headlong rush towards you.

As you fell into the lift with Higuruma, you felt a hand press behind your head, its fine bones crunching as it cushioned your head's strike against the wall. You sat, slumped, Higuruma's body over yours in a protective cage, as the doors slid closed, denting inwards as the Curse hit them with a metallic thud, and a roar.

Silence. Higuruma, silent and seething, reached behind him to press another button. The lift started a smooth descent downwards.

"I had it," he spat, lips curled upwards, nose wrinkled in animated fury, "and you stopped me-- for what? Why?"

You gulped, coughing brick dust out of your lungs as you croaked, "You were lunch. You were that close to being killed--"

"--do you really think I'm that inept--"

"--you're not inept, just inexperienced--"

"I'm not a fucking child!" Higuruma's voice rang, deep and final, around the lift. The lift pinged as you reached the bottom floor. You sighed again, pushing him away from you as you stood, moving towards the doors.

"We'll regroup and consider our plan of--" A wiry arm blocked your path, holding down the 'close doors' button.

"We are not finished," Higuruma pressed, enunciating every syllable with gritted teeth. You rested your hand on his forearm, gentle and weary.

"I am. I'm finished." Higuruma stared at you incredulously, hackles still raised. You continued, "I can't coddle you anymore. You're a smart man, you're happy you know what you're doing. So I'm finished. I won't keep fighting you for your own life, Hiromi."

Hiromi deflated slowly, unable to fight without an opponent. His lip still curled, he refused to move his arm from blocking the door, looking away from you as his fury simmered low.

"I'll clear you with the higher ups. Do what you want to finish up here. I'm done." Still, Hiromi didn't let you go, silent as your hand stayed tenderly on his forearm. A few heartbeats passed between you.

"The thing is, Hiromi...you've already lost the fight when you think the result is the most important thing. Being willing to put yourself forward to defend people, going through that fight for them...that's the really noble thing. Any idiot can win a fight. It takes guts to stand up and decide to fight in the first place."

Reaching past Hiromi to press the 'open doors' button, the lift flooded with daylight, muted by the external veil. Hiromi's arm dropped, beaten. As you moved to step past him, his fingers gently tangled in yours, your hands ghosting together between your bodies.

"Can I...can I buy you a drink? To thank you." You swallowed, throat thick with conflicting emotion. You hesitated, then nodded. Hiromi smiled down at you, something unreadably tender in his eyes.

He leaned slowly down, and pressed a soft-lipped kiss to your forehead; "thank you."

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You didn't get to go out for that drink. After giving the higher-ups your approval for Higuruma to be released, he was thrown headlong into mission after mission.

You sent him occasional texts, and he messaged back, usually dry witty commentaries on the jobs he'd been given. You found yourself missing him, feeling little golden bubbles of joy when your phone pinged, his name on the screen.

It had been a week since your disastrous argument in the lift. You still felt guilty for having abandoned him, still not feeling he was ready, but knowing he had to find his own footing at this point.

Late one evening, you dried your hair with a towel, padding around your apartment in just your underwear as you got ready for bed. You jumped and squeaked with alarm as someone hammered on your door. Grabbing an oversized t-shirt from a pile of laundry, you pulled it on over your head. Approaching the door, cautious, you were alarmed to feel--

"...Hiromi?"

Hiromi leaned against your doorframe, his head on his forearm, and he looked at you with feverish eyes, panting, apparently in pain. His dishevelled suit, and a blossoming bruise beneath his right eye placed him as a man fresh from a mission.

Without hesitation, you gripped Hiromi by the hand and pulled him into your apartment, closing and locking the door. Immediately your hands grasped his cheeks, looking deeply into his eyes, a look of such sweet concern on your face that he gulped, overwhelmed, desperate.

"What happened? Why are you here? You should get to Shoko--"

"I don't want Shoko," he spat, chest heaving as he turned away again, pressing his forehead to his fist against the door, "I want...I want you." You blushed, pleased he had come to you for help, but your medical knowledge was limited.

"What happened?" You asked again, hands cautiously ghosting over his abdomen, checking for injuries.

Hiromi groaned, low and slow, as he burned from the inside out. Your touch shot through him like a thousand arrows. His fingers seared his skin as he fumbled, trying to undo his own tie, and you took pity, reaching round him, your small hands cool against his neck as you removed his tie for him. You felt him tremble against you.

As his collar opened, you spotted a narrow, inch-long dart in his neck, like a cactus prickle. Curious, you plucked it out and dropped it onto the sideboard near the door. Is he poisoned? You questioned yourself in a panic, and you grasped him by the cheeks again, looking deeply into his eyes, terrified you'd watch the life ebb out of him, unable to do anything.

"What do you...what are you feeling?" You took him by the hand, guiding him to your sofa and forcing him to sit as you stood in front of him. His sloped eyes were narrow, taking in your barely-covered legs, the barely-concealed nubs of your nipples beneath the t-shirt fabric. Hiromi reached out with a shaking hand, grazing his fingers up your calf and your breath hitched.

"...Hiromi?" His hooded eyes flicked up to yours as his fingers stayed on your calf. Oh, you looked so uncertain, so concerned for him, and it was...delicious.

"It hurts," Hiromi croaked, "I need-- I-- I need--" His throat was tight, and you took him in, how desperate he looked, how needy, and the realisation clicked into place.

"You need...me?" Hiromi shuddered, recalling how he'd walked directly into an obvious trap while hunting down this godforsaken Curse, not taking in his surroundings, stubborn and certain in his ability to prevail--

"I'm sorry," he whimpered, cock throbbing, trapped against his thigh, his whole body burning from the inside out, "I was wrong."

"Oh, so you do know how to flirt," you teased and he huffed out a laugh, groaning again, in agony, and he begged, shameless, his head leant forward to press against your tummy as his hands crept up, eager to grasp your hips and pull you straight to his mouth.

"Please...please--" he whined, and you shivered feeling his hot breath on your belly through the fabric of your t-shirt, tangling your hands into his hair. Hiromi trembled, letting out a sandy growl against your clothes.

"Don't stop me, please," he urged, "I can't...I can't stop myself." He flipped your t-shirt up and you gasped, his strong hands sinking into the plush of your hips, holding you to his mouth, his tongue tasting you as he swiped open-mouthed kisses just above your underwear.

You felt sweet pleasure throb between your legs, all good sense thrown out of the window as you felt how deeply you had missed Hiromi, how ridiculously grateful you felt to be needed by him in this way, and you breathed to him, "You know I'd always help you."

Hiromi moaned his appreciation, his mouth now slipping down to the front of your underwear, and his tongue traced the shape of your pussy, groaning at the taste of you on the tip of his tongue. Your knees buckled, weak with the feeling of his mouth against you.

His lean arms hooked around the back of your knees, lifting them over his shoulders as he leaned you back against him. You cried out, when leaning forwards to grasp the back of the sofa, your clothed pussy pressed firmly against Hiromi's face.

You blushed as he breathed you in, his hips bucking instinctively upwards, aching to be inside you, cum heavy in his balls and desperate for release. His teeth grazed your pussy through your underwear, and he nuzzled into you, trying to part your folds with his nose through the fabric. Impatient, and feeling your hand sink into his hair again, he used two fingers to swipe your underwear aside, sinking his tongue instantly between your folds.

You whined so beautifully above him, and he undid his trousers, pulling his cock out of his trousers, gripping it tightly as he rubbed his nose and tongue urgently between your soft lips. Hiromi began to stroke himself furiously, squeezing hard at the tip, pre-cum dripping down his fist, shivering at the pleasure.

You allowed Hiromi to use you, your keening voice rising as he latched onto your clit, sinking two fingers into your pussy with no warning, thrusting them roughly into you. You bucked your hips against his face as he whimpered his approval. You blushed as you heard the frantic plaps of Hiromi pleasuring himself, your brain foggy with bliss.

Hiromi's fingers bullied into you, desperate to study you, imagining how deliciously his cock would stretch those plush walls. The constant pressure of his fingers against your cervix and his desperately nuzzling tongue and nose between your folds had you reeling, humping his face as you trembled and shook, Hiromi encouraging it as you approached your orgasm.

Your pleasure peaked, sharp and sweet, and Hiromi held you tightly to his face, still determined to taste you, drawing your orgasm out until you quivered, overstimulated, feeling your heart pulse between your legs. As Hiromi shook from his own orgasm, but not at all relieved and panting, cum dribbling down the front of his shirt, he dropped you into his lap.

You gripped the front of his shirt, his cum sticky against your belly. His hand tangled into your hair as he crushed his lips to yours with bruising force, forcing you to taste him. Nipping your bottom lip between his teeth, he whispered, begging again.

"Inside you...please, please..." You nodded again, and Hiromi threw your shirt off over your head, leaning back to drink you in; panting, trembling, straddling his lap, what the fuck was he playing at by fighting with you for so long--

Your hands worked nimbly at the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning and pressing it down his arms and you leaned forwards, almost as hungry as him as you took his nipple into your mouth. Hiromi hissed with delight, kicking off his trousers, shoes and socks and rocking your hips against him.

Hiromi grasped your hands, pressing one to his cheek, and one to his chest, forcing you to lean forwards as you shamelessly cast your eyes up and down his lean body, his muscles twitching with the electricity of your core on his aching cock. His teeth scraped against the thin skin on the inside of your wrist, your shivers like a sedative to him.

His eyes burned into yours, hot and pleading in the dark. His body was a furnace against yours, desperately craving a cure for the agony he was in. You lifted one leg off him, intending to stand to remove your underwear, but stopped as Hiromi all but sobbed against your wrist at the sudden loss of pressure on his cock, throbbing and sticky with cum against the neat, black hair on his belly. His fine-boned hands pressed you hard against him, before methodically tearing the sides of your underwear, flinging the scrap of fabric to the side.

When you grasped his aching cock, Hiromi was almost blinded by the anticipation, his hands flinging out sideways to grip the fabric of the sofa, and he panted, whimpering and pleading as you rubbed the angry red head of his cock between your folds, gathering wetness.

When you sank slowly down onto him, crying out as your walls fluttered around him like wet velvet, Hiromi came again with a shout, faint with bliss and temporary relief, feeling his own seed drip out of you and onto his thighs. He growled in frustration when, after his cock had stopped twitching inside you, he felt the need to cum again build up within his belly, overwhelming him with an almost violent urge to pursue it.

"...Hiromi? Do you...is this...?" You rode him slowly as he twisted in pleasure and anguish beneath you. Reaching up to grasp your breasts like stress-balls, Hiromi shook his head desperately at you, feeling pathetic and helpless. He was corseted by his intense need to not hurt you. You leaned into him, whispering reassurance and soft nothings in his ear.

Hiromi couldn't take it anymore. Standing up, holding himself inside you and locking your ankles behind his hips, he flipped you over, crushing your thighs to your chest. Grasping the back of the sofa, Hiromi snapped his hips against yours with determined precision, his shoulders tight and mouth slack as with every thrust he felt the urge to push harder, deeper, to empty himself inside you again and again, until you were putty in his hands, until he had cleansed himself of this unscratchable itch.

You clawed for purchase on anything as you were pounded into the sofa, drunk on the sensation of being so full, your insides feeling thrillingly bruised, the tenderness building, slow and intense. Reaching up, you plaited your fingers in Hiromi's at the top of the sofa, and he leaned down, nipping and kissing your knuckles in grateful affection.

The air was filled with the wet slaps of your joint bodies, and Hiromi's constant soft whimpers as you came again, this orgasm burning through your body as you hiccuped, tears streaming into your hair.

"Please please please...please, please," Hiromi begged as his next orgasm surged ruinously through him, dropping him to his knees on the edge of the sofa. Hiromi felt his senses return to him with each pulse of cum that left his body, relieved...for now.

Weak, exhausted, Hiromi flopped onto you, wrapping your arms and legs around him in a full-body embrace, suddenly feeling so touch-starved. Hiromi almost wept his thanks into your hair, and you stroked his hair in soft circles with your nails, all reassurance and acceptance.

By the time you had made it to your bedroom and slipped, sticky and spent, between the soft covers, Hiromi's eyes had returned to you, hungry and burning, his fingers stroking through your folds, fascinated by the drips of his seed still leaking out of you. He had flipped you over and pinned you prone to the mattress, sinking into you and moaning your praises as you had clenched, trembling with overstimulation, sucking his cock into your aching body.

Throughout the night, his relief had waned, with longer and longer gaps between him seeking out the warm acceptance of your body. You would wake to his body flush against yours, Hiromi lifting your leg over his hip as he sunk into you, mewling and panting in the night.

Finally, you had woken with sunlight streaming through the windows, Hiromi draped around you, looking soft and exhausted as he slept; Hiromi woke to the smell of coffee and you, very much ready to be cared for...and, occasionally, argued with.

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Ugh, yes. Debate me, lawyer daddy.

1K notes · View notes

saeist · 1 year

Text

it's not living if it's not with you ── s. itoshi

synopsis: if it's meant to be, it will be genre: ex2lovers, arranged/fake dating, celebrity!au, pro!au, fluff, angst with happy ending, sharing a bed, 2nd chances, ... word count: 12.3k warnings: reader and sae aged up 22+, implied sex towards the end, reader has a hint of social anxiety/claustrophobia, i think sae is a little ooc in some scenes, lmk if i missed some notes: THERE YOU HAVE IT SAEISTS.. MY 1K SPECIAL!! THIS IS THE SUPER SECRET SAE FIC I'VE BEEN TEASING EVERYONE ABOUT FOR LIKE A WEEK NOW AND IT'S FINALLY IN FRUITION! <3 here's a lil sae brainrot to show my gratitude to you guys ^_^ fellow saeists who also consume an unhealthy(?) amount of sae content...... this fic is also dedicated to the loml my bae aeri @saerins for taking ur time of day to beta-read and to my angel baby sage @invsu as well <33 ilu guys extras: i made a playlist for this bc i am insane like that and without further a do.. sit back, relax and enjoy! lmk what u guys think either in the tags or comments bc i rlly worked hard on this for like a week and i jus couldn't stop writing! talk abt a sae earworm... ++ if u guys find theres a lot of the 1975 references.. its bc i was listening to their songs as i made this lawl .. tmi!

001.

you didn’t really put into consideration how awkward it actually was to be working on a modeling gig with your ex boyfriend.

the pay was obviously really good that’s why you even agreed to book it in the first place, especially since it was for a famous luxury brand and their fragrance line

so imagine your horror when you walk into set and see your ex posing for the cameras.

you silently hoped that it was just his solo shoot and not with you because your manager did mention that you would be having a partner for this photoshoot

the photographer greets you with a hug and compliments your outfit for the shoot. a white, sultry open neckline dress. the theme of the shoot was it was set on the beach with a sunset background

he instructs you to lay on the makeshift sand and tells you to start posing for your solo shots.

after a couple of clicks, the photographer compliments you on your professionalism on set and then calls your ex boyfriend.

“sae! time for the couple shots i told you about” the photographer calls out to sae who was on his makeup chair. your eyes widened in realization that he was, in fact, your partner for today’s shoot

you tried to look at your manager for some help but it was no use. your manager was busy talking to other people on set. you can feel your heart beating faster by the minute as sae walks closer to you

he was wearing something similar to what you were wearing. dress pants and a white oversized unbuttoned polo. his exposed toned abdomen was probably the main highlight of his outfit with it glistening under the studio lights.

you bit your lip and looked away. sae has always been eye candy, there was no denying that. you were surprised yourself when you managed to bag him during his rookie days, but now that he was almost, if not an A list celebrity with his elite status in the world of football, you can almost say that itoshi sae was totally out of your league

you come back to your senses when the photographer claps his hands and muses how you and sae have insane chemistry that he has ever witnessed. you let out a little huff at the comment.

‘if only he knew’ you think to yourself, avoiding sae’s gaze as much as possible

the shoot starts and the photographer instructs sae to hover over you while holding the perfume bottle. sae nods and does what he’s told, he’s a professional after all. he wouldn’t let his personal feelings interfere with his work. that was the golden rule in the industry

you locked eyes with sae for the first time in years. he still had those fiery teal eyes that gets you weak in the knees each time. your eyes slowly dart from his eyes to his lips.

“keep doing that y/n!” the photographer cheers, clicking away on his camera. did you do something in your past life that you would inevitably end up in an awkward situation like this. a situation wherein you and your ex lover, in a position where you two are posing like an actual couple

your eyes flicker back from sae’s lips to his eyes again. for a second there you thought you felt a spark, a connection, an old flame that has been rekindled at that very moment.

til it all comes back to you in a flash

you forgot you hated him. you hate itoshi sae and you could’ve sworn itoshi sae hated you too.

the bitter taste is still in your mouth after all these years. how could you forget the man who broke your little heart in two?

it was childish really. looking back at it now, where you were merely just starting out as a rookie model and sae being the same, a rookie at his profession. just two kids having a similar situation in two whole different industries. it was hard not to get entangled.

you were always known to be sae's long time lover. you were always supportive of his games. present whenever you can, sitting at the exclusive VIP section of the stadiums, wearing his number on your back; and if you weren’t able to attend due to your own schedules, you would still manage to find the time to support him. may it be posting an instagram story that you were watching him on your phone while you were getting your makeup done or wearing his jersey on the day of the game

sae was the same. he would always be seen wearing the stuff from brands you’ve modeled for. from jewelries to exclusive clothing lines, sae would always be seen wearing them, his silent way of showing support in your own craft.

you were proud of him, and he was proud of you too.

but as all things are, good things come and go. even in the most unexpected times.

there were already rumors circulating that you and sae were ready to tie the knot, some news outlets even stating that maybe you two have gone ahead and tied the knot at some island during your secret little rendezvous. (having been caught going to santorini for more than multiple occasions)

the public has always been supportive of your relationship throughout the years. even earning the title as the nation’s sweethearts with how they’ve seen your relationship blossom from puppy love to what they call as “true love”

with the news that the nation’s sweethearts have parted ways, the public was as heartbroken as you.

sae suddenly called it quits after almost five years of dating. it was after he has been taken under the wing of real madrid’s division A where his career as a midfielder really took off. to make matters even worse, he broke it off at the same place he claimed you as his.

since then, you’ve sworn to hate him. you’ve resented him. you felt like all those years that you two have built was nothing. you couldn’t even believe him at first when he spat out the words “we’re over” like it was nothing.

five years, five years worth of unforgettable firsts. five fucking years to unlearn everything.

you were absolutely crushed back then. you even took a hiatus with everything going on in your life. you were a mess. you actually can’t believe sae had no remorse over this. were the five years you were together nothing for him? all those tears you two have shed, the firsts of everything, all those precious memories, were they all nothing?

it hasn’t even been a year or so but it seemed like sae already moved on, which added more salt to your already open wound. he was flourishing with his career while all of this was going on. sae has been photographed multiple times leaving clubs with lipstick stains all over his neck.

it stung of course. seeing him move on with his life as if he didn’t just ruin yours. that very night, you swore to yourself that you will never forgive itoshi sae for what he did.

never again would you open your heart to someone like itoshi sae.

itoshi sae, the man who broke your heart into two.

“earth to y/n?” the photographer snaps his fingers in front of you, breaking your little trance.

you apologize to the photographer, your cheeks heating up at the realization that you really got lost in your thoughts the moment you’ve met eyes with sae.

“as i was saying,” the photographer eyes you and sae, “the shoot is over. well done” he bows, motioning the people behind the scenes to clap for you and sae

almost immediately you stood up from your awkward position from sae. intentionally avoiding his hand that was held out for you to take. (you hate how he was still a gentleman to you, even after all these years)

you look around for your manager and strut towards him.

“we’re leaving. now” you say with no emotion in your voice, even walking farther ahead from your now confused manager.

he takes a look around on what could’ve made you pissed off but sees no one but itoshi sae in the flesh.

“but y/n, itoshi sae is here-” your manager gets cut off when there was a loud slam of a door nearby. he winces when he realizes it was you. he turns around and bows his head at the people on set.

“i apologize for y/n’s actions”

with that, your manager runs after you.

sae could only stare at your direction with mixed feelings. a part of him was relieved that he got to see you again after all these years, yet he doesn’t understand why he was feeling off to find out that you still resented him. i mean, that was what he expected for his own actions all those years ago.

with a click of a tongue, he goes back to his own manager so they can finally go home after a long day.

you don’t even know why you were crying. tears blurring your vision as you try to find the exit out of this damned building.

you harshly wipe your tears, opening the last door to your left. you were met with the harsh, cold air of japan. you weren’t looking where you were going, barely even noticing that someone was by the door til you bumped into them.

the steel floors were making it hard to walk in your heels. so when you bumped into the said stranger, you lost your balance.

the stranger had quick reflexes. they immediately caught you by your waist and your hands flew to their chest to keep yourself steady. you looked up at the stranger to apologize only to meet eyes again with the same teal eyes that belonged to no one other than sae fucking itoshi

you don’t know how long you two have been in this position until you see a bright flash in your peripheral vision.

you have just been papped by paparazzi with your ex boyfriend and sworn enemy, itoshi sae.

002.

the headlines in both social media, news outlets and the such were exactly how you expected it.

it was crazy.

the general public going wild, thinking that the once famed couple were now back together after how many years.

your phone was blowing up with emails upon emails. calls from friends and relatives to confirm the news themselves that you’ve been seeing sae again. you look at your manager beside you apologetically as he receives another phone call from what you think is another e-news outlet asking if the rumors circulating were true.

you have been summoned by your company for an emergency meeting as the whole situation was getting out of hand.

that was when you realize how big of a name itoshi sae was after all these years of blocking his name on twitter.

your PR team is currently a mess. they are currently working their asses off to put out a good story for your sudden reunion with the famed midfielder.

“how many times do i have to tell you to be careful being papped after a shoot?” the head of your PR team, pinches the bridge of their nose. clearly this wasn’t the first time around

“i was!” you defend yourself, “i didn’t even know it was him til i looked up..” you murmured

your manager facepalms at your response. how did you not know it was sae?

“so what i’m getting here..” the head puts their glasses on the table, “you didn’t “know” that it was the itoshi sae, your partner for this specific photoshoot, the famed midfielder of real madrid, itoshi sae?” they quote, looking at you like you just grew another head

you nod in content, “exactly” you grin, putting your thumbs up. in hopes it raises the mood. (it doesn’t, unfortunately)

“y/n, i hope you know this isn’t just something we can brush under the rug. this is not the same situation with yukimiya kenyu where you two were caught being cozy in his car”

“yuki was literally just driving me home! and we’re close friends!” you defend yourself, yet again.

“exactly! yukimiya is a close friend! while itoshi sae is not. that’s why this is such a big deal!”

you slump back to your seat. okay, maybe they were right. this was a lot harder to get around with especially since the public knows about your past relationship.

“luckily for you, we have talked things out with itoshi sae’s management,” it was your manager’s turn to talk. he stands up from the seat beside you and walks over to your PR team’s head. they exchange glances before nodding.

“we have come up with a way that this whole issue will be over soon” your manager starts.

as if on cue, the doors of the meeting room suddenly open. you take a look on who could be entering this sacred room this late. surely it couldn’t be more of your PR team as they were all already present in the room.

there stood with their hand still on the doorknob is no one other than sae, with his manager right behind him.

your jaw drops as you put two and two together.

you whipped your head towards your manager and the head of your PR team in both horror and disbelief.

no, it can’t be…

“you two will now be in an arranged relationship for the meanwhile. until your situation dies down” sae’s manager finishes, taking a seat next to sae, who took the seat next to you.

you could see your manager squeeze his eyes shut, knowing where this is going. you were about to have a fit right here right now.

“WHAT?!” you let out a loud scream. the whole floor probably heard you.

sae also winces at how ear-piercing your scream was.

you abruptly stood up from your seat, snatching your purse from the table and stomped out of the meeting room. not forgetting to slam the door shut on the way out.

immediately you called up your two closest friends, reo and yukimiya to meet you at your apartment ASAP.

003.

“so you’re telling me– us,” yukimiya pauses, looking between you, who has mascara running down your cheeks and reo, who was busy rubbing circles on your back as he hands you another tissue for you to blow your nose on, “that you are going to be in an arranged relationship with your ex, itoshi sae.. am i getting that right?” yukimiya confirms, waiting for your response

you nod before blowing your nose and throwing the now used tissue on the rising pile of tissues behind you.

“this is the worst day of my fucking life” you cried out, reaching out to reo to cry on his shoulders.

“oh, y/n” reo sighs, pulling you into his embrace as you cry your eyes out.

you pull away from reo’s embrace, “i mean, why him, why now?!” you rambled, words getting choked up.

both reo and yukimiya could only frown. after all, even with their power, money and status, there was nothing they could do to help with your situation.

your doorbell suddenly rings, catching all three of you in surprise. who could be at your door right now?

yukimiya took the initiative of opening the door, only to be met with the eyes of the itoshi sae. barely noticing your manager behind him.

sae raises his eyebrow at the man in front of him. who was he and why was he at your apartment?

“yukimiya-san! i didn’t know you were over..” your manager sheepishly greets yuki, trying to break the growing tension between him and sae.

“who’s out there, yuki?” you croak out, trying to take a peek at the door from reo’s shoulders.

“it’s me, y/n” you hear your manager call out. you look at reo in confusion. what was your manager doing here?

gradually, you slowly stood up from your kitchen island and walked over to your front door.

now, you just expected a scolding from your manager from your little fit back at the company, that’s why he was at your place or so you thought. what you didn’t expect that you’d see itoshi sae again but this time, in your own space.

“have you lost your fucking mind?” you shot a look at your manager, who only winces as a response.

“y/n- i can explain-“

“i made him take me here” sae speaks up for the first time. you felt your breath hitched. it’s been so long since you last talked to him, let alone heard him speak. (you’ve done everything you can and blocked every single thing related to sae. that meant interviews, news articles, you name it, you had his name and everything blocked and muted)

sae invites himself inside your apartment with your manager following suit as you stand there at your front door, stunned.

reo is equally as shocked as you are when he sees itoshi sae casually walk to your living room as if it was his. before reo could open his mouth to say something, you come running in, fuming.

“who the fuck told you you can come inside MY house” you spat. your attitude turning a whole 180.

sae only raises an eyebrow at you. “our team” he casually says. he then looks at your manager and cocks his head towards your direction. like he was trying to get your manager to tell you something.

“what now?!” this time it was your manager’s turn to get yelled at by you. he winces again before checking for something in his ipad.

“since you um.. walked out at our meeting earlier today… both managements has come to terms that you and itoshi sae would be living together for the meantime”

silence fills the room, the entire apartment if we were being honest

your vision goes dark, the next thing you know and you black out.

as you slowly regain your consciousness, you hear some people talking. well, to you it sounded like they were slurring because you couldn’t really comprehend what they were saying. slowly, you open your eyes. the first person you see is a frantic reo who seemed to be fanning your face with yukimiya holding your hand

“where am i?” you grunt, feeling some dull ache on the back of your head and lower back.

“you fainted” sae points out. staring at you who was on the ground. you sat up and stared at sae, wide eyed. “what the hell is he still doing here?!” you ask in distraught. you thought everything prior to this was all just a fever dream, or a nightmare as you’d like to call it

your manager, who was getting you a glass of water comes running to your aid. he crouches and tells you to drink up- to which you do.

“we were discussing your current situation with itoshi sae until you fainted… ” your manager starts, you choke on your water after hearing those words but thankfully didn’t start a coughing fit. you motioned your manager to continue so that you’d finally hear the end of this dreadful moment

your manager's eyes flicker between you and sae, “we’ve come up with an agreement that until the time being, itoshi sae would be living with you and you’d market yourselves as a couple. sae has already consented and agreed with the contract and your PR team as well…” he finishes, clutching his ipad close to his chest

reo, who was listening intently, felt like it was unfair for you to be in this type of situation regardless if it was an order from your company

“isn’t unfair for y/n though? she herself didn’t consent to this contract right? doesn’t this violate her own rights of code of ethics?” reo interferes, giving your manager a look. you look at reo and smiled. maybe you’ll ask him to contact the finest lawyers of japan that he knows after this

your manager was about to speak up but sae beat him to it.

“i was the one who suggested this whole setup, not their company. so technically, this isn’t “violating y/n’s rights of code of ethics” as it’s not even printed on a contract because simply, there is no contract” sae states, mocking reo’s tone of voice, giving him a side eye before turning his attention back to you.

this time it was yukimiya who steps in. he turns to sae with his eyebrows raised. “isn’t there another way to get around this? not just by your means?” yukimiya pauses, pushing his glasses up, “i mean, why does it have to be like this where you’ll live with y/n for an issue that could be squashed with just a single article denying your relationship or involvement with y/n?”

sae sits up straight, staring yukimiya down with an icy stare. “this doesn’t concern you”

yukimiya and reo both stand up, “actually it does. y/n is our friend” reo hisses, glaring at the red head who merely just yawns and rolls his eyes.

was sae even taking this seriously?

sae sighs, a bored expression on his face. “this is matters between me and y/n only”

finally having enough of his bullshit, you got up from the ground and walked in front of sae.

“what exactly are you planning, itoshi sae?” you narrow your eyes at him. this was the first time in years you’ve looked at him. you note how appearance wise, he hasn’t changed one bit.

sae chuckles a bit, catching you by surprise. what’s so funny?

“drop the formalities, y/n. you know me better than everyone else in this room” he scoffs, eyeing you from head to toe.

sae won’t lie. he thinks you were still beautiful the day he left you. to him, you were always the prettiest in the room and from the way his heart raced after seeing you for the first time again in years, he knows himself that thought stayed the same.

he watches your eyes soften for a second before it goes back to your signature glare.

“actually, I don't,” you say dryly, crossing your arms. “so, tell me. what exactly are you gonna get out of this?”

sae sighs. he doesn’t know himself either but he wasn’t just about to say that out loud. he doesn’t know what got into him all of a sudden. was it because he was curious about how you were doing? was he intrigued? did he somehow miss you all of a sudden because he saw you again?

a part of him always longed for you even after you two have gone your own separate ways. it was hard not to, considering you have spent a chunk of your lives together. not to mention, you two grew up with each other and built blossoming careers together hand in hand.

it was only until he finally got recruited for division a of real madrid where he thought it would be best if you guys would stop what you have in order to be the best version of himself— wrong.

he realized he fucked up that maybe that wasn’t the best option when he realized he needed you more than ever. you were his best support system. you were always there with him during the hardest times holding his hand but it was already too late. the damage had been done and it was irreversible.

the day he broke up with you, or the day he fucked up everything was also the last time he ever saw or heard from you ever again.

sae tried. he tried and tried and tried to reach out to you. he tried searching for your socials, your contact information, literally everything he can get his hands on. but even with his power and money in the world, it was still not enough to find you.

the only updates he had of you was the ads that were plastered all around social media and in the busy shopping districts of the cities he’s in. it was almost like a constant reminder of what he lost.

so shocked was an understatement when you were his partner for the commercial shoot his manager had booked him for some random luxury brand.

after all those years, he found you again.

to say the stars were on his side when you two got papped by the paparazzi is a bit selfish on sae’s end. as much as he fucking despises the paparazzi as they tend to ruin things for him, he’s quite glad that for once that they did something right.

they brought you back to him.

so sae couldn’t just let this opportunity of a lifetime slide. even if this so called “scandal” could easily just be cleared out with a simple denying of such rumor. but sae couldn’t just let this end like that.

he wants to fix everything he broke. sae wants another chance.

“this is pointless” you deadpan, after waiting for sae to speak. he was just sitting there, staring right back at you for god knows how long that you begin to become conscious.

sae looked like he just snapped out of his train of thought as he shook his head before clearing his throat.

“it’s a win-win situation for both of us” sae blurts, “you get more publicity out of this–”

yukimiya and reo both looked at him like he was crazy.

“excuse you— with or without you, y/n is already famous. hell, you don’t even know how many brands are waiting for her to reach back at them!”

“do you live under a rock or something? how do you not know y/n is one of the, if not the number one top model of the country?”

you were secretly thankful that you called both yukimiya and reo beforehand. not only you got an ego boost, but it gave sae a taste of your own reality that you are where you are now because he left you

a small smirk tugs on your lips when sae frowns. you watch him chew his bottom lip, a telltale sign that he was thinking of something to save his ass

“well, if you aren’t gonna get something out of this.. i have” you say, catching everyone’s attention, including your own manager.

your manager looks at you with his head tilted to the side. mouthing “what do you mean?”

“i’ll only agree to this if after this whole scandal is over, i don’t ever want to see you again” you propose to sae. it was only fair for it to end like this as one, he was the one who suggested this idea in the first place. two, you can never be too complacent with sae who apparently has no motive regarding this. this was sae we’re talking about, he’s bound to plot something and three, you can finally find the answers you’ve been yearning for after all these years. might as well use this as an opportunity to get your well deserved closure.

there was a glint of hope in sae’s eyes.

“deal”

you hear yukimiya and reo yell a bunch of lines like “seriously y/n?” but all you can focus on is sae who’s also looking right back at you.

your manager claps his hands in joy, immediately dialing your company about your decision. sae takes this time to call his own manager to probably tell him to bring his stuff in.

did you make the right decision? you’re not too sure. only time can tell.

004.

today was the first day of you officially “dating” sae again.

also the first day of living with sae, for the meantime

just a little after you’ve come to an agreement with sae with the set up of your rekindled “relationship”, both managements didn’t waste a single second on confirming the news that the nation’s sweethearts have gone back together

needless to say, both of your names are trending and is the current talk of the town

so your first agenda (from both PR teams) is that you both post strikingly similar instagram stories as if you were together the night prior. (in which, you two were.. force binded by a non-existent contract)

it was a good thing that you chose an apartment that had a spare guest room because god forbid you’d even dare to sleep in the same bed with your ex.

you didn’t give sae a warning that you were already gonna post something. just a quick snap of your window, that holds the view of shibuya, with a little sunlight peeking through. you captioned it with a little “good morning indeed” with a cheeky emoji just to spice things up.

sae, who was in the next room, was casually scrolling through instagram when he sees that you posted a new instagram story. he clicks his tongue in annoyance at the fact you didn’t even give him a heads up. quickly improvising, he took a mirror selfie from the vanity mirror that you have around in your guest bedroom.

you started your day with making your own breakfast. not even bothering to call sae. hell, he can starve for all you care. after all, he was not your responsibility. you only agreed to do this because frankly you had no other choice from your company.

while waiting for your eggs, it didn’t take you a while to also notice that sae already posted his part of the agenda. thinking of it as nothing, you innocently clicked on his profile. his story loads and wow. resonating with your caption, good morning indeed!

sae posted a shirtless mirror selfie. he was still under the covers but made sure his torso was seen on the mirror.

“take a screenshot, it’d last longer” sae says flatly, moving past you to your fridge. you jolt in surprise, almost dropping your phone in the process. “what the fuck!” you yell out, a hand over your chest.

you hear sae chuckling behind you and the fridge opening

“you got all that money stocked up somewhere and yet you don’t even have groceries?” sae comments, noting your almost empty fridge. there were only some milk boxes and some of those edible collagen jellies that help you with swelling when you have early morning shoots and the such.

sae takes the last chocolate milk box you had that was hidden away at the back of your fridge

“well, my manager does it for me and i usually eat at reo’s or yukimiya’s– is that the last of my milk?!” you pried your eyes off your phone to see sae casually sipping on the last milk box you were saving

“so?”

“that’s mine” you argued, getting up from the kitchen island to snatch it from sae. you stomp over to him and tried to swipe it off his hands. unfortunately for you, sae is an athlete and that meant he had reflexes like no other. he raises his arm high just before you were able to grab the milk box from him.

“sae, give it back” you grit your teeth, standing on your tippy toes, trying or attempting to take the milk box from sae’s hold but the height difference is just something else.

sae leans down and gets all over your face. “come on, you can do it,” he teases, eyes fixated on yours.

this feeling almost felt too familiar. almost like a wave of nostalgia just hit you in the face. the memories you’ve been trying to suppress all coming back

you snapped out of your little trance when you realized the position you two were in.

“my eggs are burning” you lie, leaving sae dumbfounded. you scurry off to your stove to finish what you were cooking while sae goes and sits on your kitchen island.

he watches you plate your breakfast and sit on the other end of the kitchen island. you actually felt him staring but chose to ignore him. the sound of his stomach grumbling breaks the awkward silence.

“where’s my breakfast?” he asks, voice small

you shrug, “i don’t know”

“you didn’t make me one?”

“why will i?” you raise a brow, happily munching on your bacon while sae could only look at you in disbelief.

later that day you two had your own schedules. he had practice and other stuff to do while you had another meeting about different commercial offers and a lunch date with reo and yukimiya just like you promised the two.

you got home later than sae. you were about to grab some water from the fridge when you notice that it was fully stocked with groceries. you can’t help but smile a little at the gesture.

you did your usual night routine before getting comfy in bed. just before you were about to hit the hay, you don’t forget to send sae a quick message, thanking him for the groceries.

[11:43] you: thanks for doing the groceries ig

[11:44] sae: i couldn’t just let myself starve here, can i?

you rolled your eyes at his reply. he’s still so sarcastic even after all these years

[11:45] you: whatever 🙄

[11:46] sae: i also restocked that milk you love so much. call it truce from earlier today

[11:46] you: who told you it was my favorite? 🤨

[11:47] sae: gut feeling, call it old habit

you raised a brow at his text. what did he mean by that? before you could type your reply, your phone notifies you that sae sent another message

[11:49] sae: jk. your manager told me

you didn’t realize you were holding in your breath. you let out a sigh of relief after reading his message. you were not gonna let him get under your skin. not anymore

you ended up not replying to him. instead, you shut your phone off to reflect on today’s events, hoping that this all ends soon. your phone suddenly dings again. it was a notification from sae.

[11:55] sae: i’m going to sleep now. goodnight, y/n

it’s officially been a week of living with sae and pretending to be a couple in front of the cameras and the public. to think you’d even last this long is an understandment on it’s own.

for this day, both managements wanted you two to be seen out and about in public doing whatever you two wished to do.

you were debating on what you two should do that won’t involve much physical contact like going out for shopping because that only meant that you two would be forced to hold hands which is something you don’t want to do for obvious reasons. you’d rather die than to be papped with sae holding hands

“what do you want to do today?” sae asks from the couch. you two were already all dressed up. intentionally matching your outits just for the sake of it. sae was wearing a maroon turtleneck with holes in them with a white long sleeve shirt underneath and some track pants? you don't question his outfit much further because why would you exert the effort to do so?

you were wearing something similar. a maroon crop top with some leggings to match the laid back outfit of your fake boyfriend.

“what can we do without much physical contact?” you pondered, a finger tapping on your chin. sae scoffs at your question, mumbling about what’s wrong with physical contact with him. you almost wanted to tell him “everything” but that would just start another argument today

“how about we get some coffee?” sae offers, unable to think of more activities to do in such short notice. you hum in agreement, coffee does sound good right now. you get up from the couch and grab the keys to your car

“what are you doing?” sae asked. you stop in your tracks and hold out your keys for him to see. “we’re taking my car” sae says, showing off his.

not putting up much of a fight, you agreed. it was getting tiring driving yourself around anyway.

you two arrive at the coffee shop sae graciously let you choose in no time (by graciously, he meant that he’s good with anything you choose) you then decide on sitting by the window where you know the paparazzi will be in front at in no time to capture this date between rekindled lovers

you sit at your chosen table by the window while you wait for sae to order something for the both of you. telling him that you’re okay with whatever since this cafe was your favorite.

it didn’t take sae that long to come back with your orders. he sets the tray down and you find an abundance of sweets and pastries. you look up at him confused but he simply shrugs. he then places your drink down. you take the receipt that was hanging off the tray to read everything he has ordered.

looks like he ordered everything on the menu with the sweets and pastries, which is not surprising really. when you read what he got you however,

“you ordered me a spanish latte?” you ask, taking the drink from the table.

sae nods, taking a sip from his own drink. “something wrong?”

you shake your head no. you just can’t wrap your head at the fact he ordered your usual go-to drink.

“nothing, it’s just i'm surprised that you still remember what i usually order in coffee shops” you shrug, finally sipping on your drink. spanish lattes does always hit the spot for you

“do you think i have forgotten?” sae raises a brow, a slight frown forming on his lips. you rolled your eyes at his comment.

“well, it’s been a while, don’t you think?” you retort, avoiding his hard stare. technically, it’s been almost two years since the breakup. one of you were bound to forget each other’s habits and the such.

there was silence again after that. an awkward one at that

“let’s take our post now so we can leave” you say, taking pictures of the food in front of you while keeping sae in the frame. sae simply nods and does the same. the photo you decided to post was mostly all the food sae ordered with him in the background. you purposely cut off his head just for the thrill of it. you do tag sae in the instagram story though with the caption “coffee run”

sae’s post was a bit different. he simply posted a candid shot of you taking pictures of the food in front of you. for captions, sae isn’t much of a caption person because he thinks they defeat the purpose of photos so instead he just adds a heart emoji with your username next to it.

it didn’t take much for the paparazzi to find your whereabouts. just like planned, they were outside the window you two were seated in taking photos after photos.

“do we go now?” sae asks, eyeing the amount of people that were outside the cafe.

“yeah..” you trail off, not really expecting a whole crowd to form outside. sae must've sensed that you were tensed with the way he stands next to you when you two were leaving the coffee shop

the moment you two step foot outside, it was an absolute frenzy. the press were everywhere on your faces. asking questions from all sorts of directions that it actually made you dizzy.

you were never one for crowded crowds. especially when they topple over each other just to take the perfect photo or get an exclusive. it was just never your cup of tea

you covered your eyes from the bright flashes that were all over your face, trying to maneuver around the paparazzi to get to sae’s car faster but the paparazzi was too much for you to handle. you instinctively leaned on sae for support as your legs start to feel wobbly. sae immediately catches on and wraps an arm around your waist securely, pushing forward against the hoarde of people in front of you guys

“get out of the fucking way!” sae barks, pushing the people in front of your faces. the group of paparazzi do make way for you guys as you finally reach sae’s car.

sae unlocks the car and opens the passenger door for you to enter first. he shields any possible camera that was trying to capture your face with his body. even going as far as pushing them away making some of the paparazzi stumble and fall on their asses.

once you were secured in your seat, he runs over to his side of the car and starts the car before speeding off. not wasting a single second for some short interview.

“you okay?” sae steals a glance at your slumped state, before turning his attention back to the road in front of him.

“... yeah, just dizzy” you say meekly, rubbing your temples. “i’m gonna rest my eyes for a bit, sae” you murmur, leaning against the window before drifting off to sleep.

sae sighs and speeds up faster so you two could get home sooner. ‘damn paparazzi’ he thinks to himself, not noticing how his knuckles have turned white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel.

the car comes to a halt when the traffic lights beam red. sae couldn’t help but look at your state. he always knew you were bad with crowds but yet you still fulfilled your lifelong dream to be a model. he wonders who took care of you during flash mobs when you were out in the streets.

was it your manager? was it that reo guy? or was it yukimiya aka that person he doesn’t really like. sae hates how close you are with him. sae will also never forget your scandal with him. he can still remember it like it was yesterday when the news dropped that you may or may not be in a relationship with your fellow model yukimiya kenyu after being papped being cozy inside his car.

practice was hell that day for real madrid and sae may or may not have punctured a soccer ball out of pure rage.

the damned light finally turns green and thankfully you were at the last street before the turn to your apartment complex.

sae parks the car and turns to take a good look at your sleeping figure. you look too peaceful to wake up. so he gets out of the car and goes to your side to pick you up bridal style.

he gently puts one of your arms around his neck (for safe measure) and loops his under your knees to carry you. with the help of the security guards around, he presses the elevator up to your penthouse suite.

for once in his life, sae is thankful that he was an athlete as he successfully tapped in your passcode to unlock your front door with you in his arms. when he reaches your bedroom, he gently sets you down on your bed.

sae was about to leave to make some dinner just before you wake up but was stopped by your hand reaching for his.

“stay..” you mumbled, tugging his arm. sae hesitates for a bit, unsure if you were actually conscious or was just sleep talking. sae watches your eyebrows furrow when you notice he still wasn’t beside you. clicking your tongue in annoyance, you tug on sae’s arm harder so he gets the hint

“okay, okay” sae hums, slowly getting in your bed. he’s unsure himself on what he should do. should he stay still, wrap an arm around you, what?

to his surprise, you were snuggling next to him. your head nestling to his chest. sae lets out a small gasp. he definitely didn’t see this coming.

coming to a realization that no harm would be done if he wraps an arm around you, he slowly drapes his arm over your waist. sae suddenly feels like he was on top of the world, like everything suddenly made sense to sae.

sae caresses your cheek, brushing the stray hairs from your face.

“you still look beautiful the day i lost you..” sae whispers. he debates on stealing a kiss. he weighs out the pros and the cons and figures that it was more of a liability if you ever find out he stole a kiss from you, especially when you were asleep. that’s gonna have to be for another time.

sae was beginning to feel sleepy. he carefully drapes the duvet across your bodies. not even a moment later, sae is now fast asleep with you in his arms

you find yourself plush against something hard and warm. you try tossing to the other side but you were being held securely around your waist. your eyes shot up, now fully awake and aware of your surroundings.

“good morning” sae rasps, his morning voice sending shivers down your spine.

“what are you doing in my bed?” you whisper-yelled, actually genuinely surprised to see him next to you. your heart was racing, like it was about to jump out of your chest. did something happened yesterday? you couldn’t quite remember everything after leaving the coffee shop. it almost felt like a hazy dream

sae reluctantly unwraps his arm around you and scoots to the edge of the bed. you almost pout at the warmth that disappears but you internally scold yourself for thinking of such things.

“you passed out in the car and i brought you here” sae explains, now sitting up. “i’ll go make breakfast. stay put” he pats your leg before excusing himself to leave your bedroom. you lay there confused because that wasn’t enough to explain why he was quite literally sleeping next to you.

just the mere fact that you slept next to him sent you into a frenzy. you grab your phone and immediately dialed reo

“hello?” reo answers groggily, you checked your phone for the time and it was literally 8 in the morning.

“reo!” you hushed, trying not to catch the attention of sae “something happened yesterday!”

“what?”

“we slept together…?” your voice going up an octave, chewing on your lip as you await for reo’s reaction

a beat of silence passes by. you thought reo may have accidentally ended the call

“YOU DID WHAT?!” reo basically screams at your ear. you had to remove your phone from your ear from the impact of reo’s shrill scream. “DON’T TELL ME YOU GOT BACK TOGETHER WITH HIM IN JUST A WEEK’S NOTICE—”

“NOT IN THAT WAY, DIPSHIT” you say abruptly, cutting reo off. “i mean like.. we just slept in the same bed after yesterday’s turn of events…” you trail off, trying to remember every significant detail that eventually lead up to you and sae ultimately sleeping with each other.

“my guess is with the paparazzi. i just saw the photos” reo says, typing away on his keyboard. “not gonna lie y/n, you and sae do make a good couple” he adds, giggling

you huff over the phone, earning a hefty laugh from the other end.

“talk to him. clearly you need it” reo advices. it was like he knows where this was going. “ i gotta go for now, y/n. i’ll call you back later. duty calls. ciao!” reo ends the call before you could even say something.

you threw your phone on the other side of the bed, groaning as you put your head in your hands. what was happening to you

there was a faint knock on your door, probably sae was gonna tell you that breakfast was ready but to your surprise, he brought the breakfast to you.. in bed.

sae walks in with a little bed tray that you didn’t even know you owned filled with some breakfast.

“was all this necessary?” you say in disbelief. sae simply shrugs and sits by the foot of your bed.

“i contacted your manager about your state and he says he’ll be coming over to check up on you later” he notes, typing away on his phone with one hand. sae turns to you and motions for you to start digging in. “c’mon, eat up”

you feel your face heat up at his extravagant gestures. he was a man of service after all. even during your relationship, sae wasn’t the type to be vocal about his love for you. it was mostly through actions may it be subtle or not. you can feel the love with the way he does everything for you.

with a small smile, you start to eat the breakfast he made.

“sae,” you call. he looks up from his phone, a confused look on his face.

“need something?”

“come here” you motioned for him to scoot closer to you. to which he happily obliges. he is now sitting right in front of you.

he watches you cut a piece of your pancake and stabbed it with your fork before holding it up for him.

“here,” you say sheepishly, not even looking at sae in the eye. sae looked at you like you just lost your mind.

“can’t let you not eat your own cooking..” you mumbled, feeling your face burn in both embarrassment or something you can’t pinpoint. with a chuckle, he takes the fork from you. unintentionally brushing your hands together.

in an instant, you snatch your hand back as he quietly eats the pancake you’ve given him.

things are changing between you and sae and you’re not sure if you like it.

005.

it’s been a few days since the whole ordeal with you and sae in bed together. your management gave you guys a few days off just to keep things at bay with the paparazzi after the whole fiasco of you almost fainting because of the sea of paparazzi outside trying to take photos.

your manager did end up checking up on you that day just like sae has mentioned. you told him off that you were fine and just needed more resting before you can resume with your work. he reluctantly agrees and goes ahead and reports your status with your company.

reo and yukimiya also came over for the past few days. just to check things up with you after your pictures were published for the public. you had a talk with your two closest friends about your current situation with sae.

yukimiya was a bit unsure for you while reo advised that they’ll be there with you for every decision you make. he also opted that you two should have an open forum about each other’s whereabouts since the break up. clearly you still had unanswered questions.

sae was out again for his daily practice. although he did tell you that he’d be back around the afternoon.

you take this opportunity of being alone to actually think about everything for the past week.

this few weeks has been a whole rollercoaster. not only you’ve been reunited with your ex, you had to be in a “fake” relationship with him again for the media, and now it’s like you and sae were back to your old routines all those years ago.

a part of you does miss being able to call sae as yours, not just for the sake of the cameras but just because you really do love him and you want to be with him, but this time for real. yet, another part of you is scared that maybe there’s a catch to this. maybe in the end sae was just using you for his own sake.

you made a promise to yourself that you were not gonna have him play with your heart like that anymore. not again, never again.

but here you are, willing to take the same risk again. the things you are willing to do just to call him yours.

because at the end of the day, it will always be itoshi sae.

no one else has your heart the way sae has it.

you barely notice that sae has arrived back from practice til he was waving a hand in front of your face.

“y/n” he jabs a finger at the side of your head, an amused look on his face. “what are you thinking about?” sae hums, plopping down on the couch next to you.

“nothing much, just about life”you hissed, clutching the spot he just poked you. you leaned back on the couch, stealing a glance at sae but you made eye contact instead. immediately you looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up.

sae snickers next to you, a small smile on his face as he takes a good look at you.

“having a midlife crisis at your young age?” sae pokes your sides making you jump. you let out a little yelp, causing sae to smirk.

“don’t even think about it sae itoshi— AH!” you hold your hands out in defense mode. you know that devilish look on sae’s face. sae’s fingers reach your sides before you could even finish your menacing (not) threat.

your laughter fills the living room.

oh how sae missed this. how he missed coming home from practice and to have you wait for him. how sae missed you.

sae stops tickling you to let you catch your breath. barely even noticing the position you two were in. he was on top of you, hands on each side of your head. your cheeks painted red, chest rising rapidly as you try to control your breathing.

“can i kiss–”

the front door slams open to reveal reo and yukimiya in tow with some food.

“y/n! we brought you some food!” reo happily chirps, setting the food down on your kitchen counter. sae’s eyes immediately widen and rushes to get off of you. he stumbles and falls on the floor, just right in front of reo’s feet.

reo and sae make eye contact. reo awkwardly smiles at the now embarrassed sae.

but sae being sae, he brushed it off like he was in the middle of push ups.

“... and 50. 50 push ups done” sae puffs, pushing himself off the ground, pretending to wipe the non existent sweat on his forehead and ushers away to his room. not missing reo’s comment before he slams the door shut.

“i’m gonna just pretend i didn’t see you fall right in front of me” reo cackles, wiping a tear from his eye. “anyway y/n, we got you some food. i forgot that athlete was living with you sooo.. it’s up to you to give his share” reo shows you the amount of food he just got you.

yukimiya giggles behind him. he pulls reo to the side before giving you his infamous smirk

“reo, we gotta go now” yukimiya smiles slyly at you. he takes a good look at your ruffled shirt, flushed cheeks and messy hair.

“what? we just got here!” reo complains, looking back at yukimiya, who points out your current state. he then whispers something to reo that you obviously can’t hear. you stand there with your arms crossed, eyebrows raised as you wait for your two best friends to fill you in

“i’m literally right here” you rolled your eyes.

“oh!” reo gasps, eyes wide as he seems to put two and two together. he covers his mouth like he just witnessed something scandalous.

you were about to open your mouth to say protest against what allegations yukimiya has of you but both reo and yukimiya bolt out the door. yelling about how they were sorry for disturbing something while cackling.

“those bitches..” you muttered, shaking your head. you walk over to the kitchen to go through what reo just got you. of course it was his favorite steak with some side dishes.

“are they gone?” you hear sae call out from his room, his head poking out the door.

you laugh, “yeah. you can come out now”

you hear the door open and sae comes walking in the kitchen with nothing but sweatpants. you let out a squeak as your hands fly to your eyes, covering them from seeing sae’s half naked body.

sae scoffs at your reaction. “you’re acting like you aren’t used to it”

“was used to it” you correct him. sae’s mood drops a bit. you awkwardly fiddle with the hem of the plastic. taking out the plastic containers to at least lift up the now sour atmosphere.

sae looks at the meals you’ve settled down on the counter. “from reo?” he asks, going ahead and taking out some chopsticks.

he must be starving from coming home after practice.

you slid the plastic container that held reo’s favorite steak to sae. his eye widens and shakes his head. he pushes it back to you. it becomes a silent tug of war. sae ended up losing because you were starting to get upset and he can tell by the way your lips are jutted out and you were pushing harder, causing some of the sauce to spill out.

“okay, damn..” sae mutters, accepting his defeat. you let out a victory cheer by dancing a little in your seat. sae couldn’t help but smile. now here you were, watching him chomp down the food reo initially got for you.

“let’s head out somewhere” sae says, poking you with his chopsticks. you swat his hands away as you scowl at him. going out all of a sudden after he just ate?

“where are we going?”

“places”

you look up at him unsure. you didn’t really want to go anywhere this week knowing that paparazzi might be up on your asses again. you weren’t gonna risk your health again for just some dumb post

“but we’re on break with posting though” you protest. was sae really serious about heading out?

sae pouts and looks at you with pleading eyes. something he only pulls when he really wants to do something or get his way. something you couldn’t resist. you guessed old habits really die hard

“please?”

you avert your gaze elsewhere because those teal eyes are only trouble for you. you hear sae sigh beside you and you realized that was your last straw.

“fine”

you look back at sae who had a small smile on his face. his face screaming “i know you still can’t resist me” and quite frankly you wanted to punch the living daylights out of his smug face.

“i’m not gonna get dressed up or anything though. just a hoodie and a hat to keep our identities hidden” you say, getting up from the barstool to head over to your room to get an oversized hoodie and your hat.

“wasn’t counting on it” sae says, humming to himself that he got you to agree.

it didn’t take long for you guys to get moving. you two were now on your way to wherever sae was taking you. even if you kept asking where you two were going, sae simply shushes you and tells you to just sit back and relax

you were leaning towards the window, watching the city skies fade as you two drive aimlessly around the city. your phone connected to his aux, softly playing some tunes in the background.

your eyes peer over to sae who had one hand on the steering wheel, while the other was used to prop himself up against the window. you find yourself smiling at the memories going back to you.

the old late night drives with sae just to clear your minds.

the route sae was taking you felt awfully familiar. you sit up straight and looked outside to see that you were going up a familiar hill. you snap your head towards sae. sae catches your stare and winks at your direction.

the car eventually comes to a stop. sae silently turns off the car and gets out with you following behind him. there you realize where he took you. sae took you back to your favorite spot to get away from it all. the hilltop where you can get a whole view of the ever so busy city of shibuya.

the same place sae asked you to be his,

the same place sae broke things off with you,

“what are we doing here, sae?” you ask, sitting on top of the hood of his car. sae follows suit. he sits next to you, observing the view in front of him.

“to unwind” he says flatly, putting his hood on. you can’t help but look at him. what did he mean by that?

“you looked pretty occupied today, so i just thought i’d bring you here-”

you furrowed your brows, “then why here?”

sae stays silent. the sound of the city filling your ears. you can’t help but think that it was now or never. it was the perfect time to get things across. for your own peace of mind, and for the sake of it all.

it was silent between you and sae all of a sudden. you almost wanted to laugh at how ironic it is that you’d end up in this place again for the third time in a row with the same person.

‘how nostalgic’ you think to yourself. you get up from the hood of the car and walked towards the wooden fence. just to get a clearer view and to get some air that you so desperately needed before talking to sae.

“you know, this reminds me of the time you took me up here for the first time,” you start, kicking the rocks just by your feet. sae’s ears perk up at the sudden mention of the memory.

“i was so happy that day. to think we’d last for over five years. i was the happiest when i was with you, sae” you continued, smiling to yourself as you recalled everything.

sae can’t help but feel there’s more to what you’re saying. he can’t help but anticipate the bomb that you were about to drop.

“til one day, you brought me out here again. this time, to break up” you turn around to face sae who had an expression you can’t comprehend. his hands were stuffed inside the pockets of his hoodie

“you broke me that day, sae” you breathe out, looking up at the moon. “and to think not even two weeks later i see you with someone else” you let out a laugh. to sae it sounded forced.

“i hate you, sae itoshi” you finally look at him again, sae averts from your hard gaze.

“i hate how you took all my firsts, i hate how you talk to me with that voice, i hate how i know your morning routine better than anyone else, i hate how you always opt to cook because you know i suck at cooking, i hate how you know me like the back of your hand..” you list off, with every list you say, you take a step forward.

“i hate how even after all these years, even after you hurt me, even how you broke me to pieces, i hate how i can’t ever find myself to hate you” you finish. a teardrop running down your cheeks.

“i hate how i still love you..” your voice was shaky. your hands were trembling, here you were, confessing your heart to the guy who initially broke it.

you broke your promise to yourself.

with a deep sigh, you fixed your composure. you harshly wipe the tears that were running down your cheeks before turning your back on sae again to face the city you live in.

“i just have a question for you, sae…” you take a deep breath. finally. you were gonna get the answers to your questions. those times you’ve doubted yourself, those sleepless nights wondering where it all went wrong, nights where you ask yourself if you were ever enough for sae..

you were finally gonna get your well deserved answers.

“why? what did i do wrong? was i not enough for you?”

sae silently moves towards you. he pulls your head to his chest where you freely the tears fall.

you push him off of you, you were not gonna let yourself be fooled much longer.

“was it worth it, sae? was throwing away our years together worth it?” you seethed, tears pricking your eyes.

sae’s eyes widened, “i–”

“you know sae, even if i was in a room with all the people i love the most. i’d still choose you and you all over again. i will always choose you, sae” you cut him off, trembling. words shaking as you are basically spilling your heart to the guy who broke it into a million pieces.

sae’s heart breaks at the scene before him. it was too late for him to realize the damage he has done to you. for you to act like this.

“that’s why i agreed to be in this fake relationship with you. i wanted to find out why you did this to me, to us” you admit, tears now fully flowing. “i just..” you weren’t able to finish what you were trying to sae as you sob in front of sae.

“why sae?.. just, why?”

you barely notice sae approaching. the next thing you knew, he pulls your head to his chest.

“shh… let it out” he says, his free arm rubbing your back as you cry your heart out. finally, after all those years, it felt good to release everything. like a million bricks has been lifted off your shoulders.

sae pulls away, cupping your cheeks as he wipes the tears pouring down your cheeks with his thumb. his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips.

“don’t look at me like that, sae..” you say in a low voice, almost like a whisper. peering away from sae’s eyes.

sae slowly leans in and before he knows it his lips are just ghosting over yours. without a second, sae smashes your lips together.

your eyes widened. you wanted to push him away. you put your hands on his chest ready to push him away, but something in you is stopping you from doing so.

how you missed this. how you missed sae

how sae missed this. how sae missed you

you pull apart, catching your breath. you look up at sae to see him crying too. he cups your cheeks, caressing them with his thumb.

“i’m sorry” was all he could say. he puts his forehead against yours, teal eyes fixated on yours. you can tell with his eyes that he was sincere. sae was also shaking as he holds you, his whole body language screaming guilt.

“i was young and stupid. i thought i’d be better off without you but i realized that i wasn’t. it was too late by then.” he explains, looking down at your feet instead of meeting your eyes.

you put your hand over his, squeezing them. relishing in the moment of two ex lovers putting the past behind them.

“i tried reaching out for you, you know?” sae brings up, laughing to himself at how stupid he sounded. “but knowing you, i knew you’d probably act like you never existed. i had to find out the hard way” he scoffs at the end.

“eventually, the stars brought me to you again” sae finally looks at you in the eye. “i took that as a chance to try and redeem myself. i think it failed though,” sae admits sheepishly, “i was persistent. i wanted you back and i did everything i can just to keep you with me”

you listen to sae stumble with his words. he’s trying. he’s actually proving that he was genuinely sorry for everything.

“i never stopped loving you, y/n” sae admits with a sad smile, “i never did”

you tear up again at his confession. because frankly, you were the same.

sae opens his mouth to say something but instead, you crash your lips against his. sae doesn’t move for a second but relaxes as soon as he realizes what was going on. he instantly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close as he can.

“i love you,”

“i love you too,”

you two find yourselves basking under the moonlight once again. fixing and treating each other’s wounds as you two try again. this time you two are sure that whatever you two have planned for each other, you two will make it right.

006.

the sound of an alarm blaring through the room wakes you up from your sleep. you feel some shuffling behind you and suddenly the room turns quiet again.

“did i wake you?” you hear sae’s morning voice ring through your ears, sending a shiver down your spine. you let out a small whine, nodding your head yes.

sae chuckles, and tightens his hold around your body under the covers. “good morning to you too, baby” he kisses your cheek.

you open one eye before twisting your body around to face him.

“morning..” you yawn, leaving a trail of kisses from his jaw to his adam’s apple.

“still didn’t get enough from last night, hm?” sae teases, rubbing circles on your hips. you feel your cheeks heat up. you slapped his chest before turning your back on him again.

“our managers will kill us if we’re late” you remind him of your schedules for the day. you sit up, slipping on his shirt that was lying on the floor, recalling last night’s events. you looked at yourself from the mirror to see some love bites all over your neck up to your chest. a gentle reminder that you were now his again.

“they can wait,” sae murmurs, slipping his hands under your (his) shirt. you let out a giggle before pushing his hands off of you.

“sae come on!” you tug on his arm as you two head out to your bathroom.

after what seems like an hour or so due to sae’s rowdy hands. you two finally arrive at the red carpet of the luxury brand you two have modeled for.

the screams of fans fills your ears as you wait in of the car and onto the red carpet where a line of reporters were waiting.

sae, being the gentleman he is and a marketing genius, he obviously makes a scene for your entrances. he gets out of the car first and holds out his hand for you to take. the audience goes crazy as you two make your entrance.

“sae, y/n! over here!” you hear a bunch of reporters yell out. lights, and flashes all around.

you and sae stop at the first reporter on the line. he greets you guys with a smile before starting his short interview. it was the usual questions about the brand and you guys feel about being the new faces of it.

“well, clearly they have a good eye for casting both y/n and i as the new faces for their brand” sae answers for the both of you, his arm wrapped securely around your waist.

the interviewer gushes at how cool his answer was and proceeds to ask you another question.

“my, my, my, miss y/n. you look lovely as usual but i can’t help but wonder, what does it feel like to be back together with sae itoshi?” he asks, intrigued, his microphone on your face.

you look at sae for approval and he simply smiles and motions for you to say whatever you want to say.

“well, it still shocks me til this day that i got back together with sae” you joked, making the interviewer laugh at your response and sae who fakes being offended. you laugh at his reaction before answering seriously,

“but seriously. i guess it’s true that if it’s meant to be, it will be” you smile, showing off sae in front of the camera to which the interviewer loves.

“what an answer from, y/n! well you heard it here first folks!” the interviewer beams in front of the camera, “i wish you two never ending happiness. thank you for letting me interview you guys!” he waves off, finding another celebrity to interview.

you and sae both smile and wave him goodbye as you two continue along the red carpet.

“do you really mean that?” you hear sae ask beside you. he was busy waving for the cameras. you let out a little giggle before waving around for the paparazzi and cameras around.

“mean what?”

“what you said about if it’s meant to be, it will be” he quotes you, tucking a stray hair behind your ear sending the audience and the paparazzi in a frenzy again.

“it happened to us, didn’t it?” you smile, motioning to your current situation.

sae was yours again, and you are his.

just how it should be.

bonus!

you didn't consider how awkward it actually was to be working on another modeling gig with your boyfriend.

especially when the poses instructed by the photographer and way too intimate to be imitated in a semi-public setting for your liking.

“what are you being stiff for?” sae holds in his laugh, seeing how motionless your poses are with him. “it’s awkward when theres people around..” you say through gritted teeth, praying to the gods that this shoot will finally be over

“it’s not this awkward when we do this alone though..” sae seductively whispers, lowering his head just right at the shell of your ear.

the photographer squeals in joy at the amount of shots he got from that pose alone.

you feel your face burn up in embarrassment.

“sae!”

#blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #bllk x reader #sae imagines #sae x reader #sae itoshi imagines #sae itoshi x reader #saeved

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katareyoudrilling · 3 months

Text

Seen (Javier Peña One-shot)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Summary: You’re the last person Javi wants to ask for a favor, but not for the reason you think.

Word count: ~2.2k

Rating: Mature (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: Alternating POV, reader is a few years older than Javi (Javi could be a variety of ages) and has hair that could be worn up or down, wrinkles and laugh lines, a touch of angst, non-graphic sex

A/N: This isn’t quite what I expected it to be when I started working on it many many months ago. The idea was inspired by @famouslyanonymous musing that there didn’t seem to be any fics featuring a Pedro boy with a slightly older reader. I wanted to say a lot of things with this fic and I’m not sure I said any of them, but I hope you enjoy!

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

Masterlist

Taglist link in bio (or ask me to add you!)

“Fine.”

Fuck.

Javi slams down the phone and pinches the bridge of nose.

He needs a favor. Why does it have to be from you?

He can flirt his way through the department secretaries easily, but you, with your intelligent, assessing gaze… he swears you can see right through him.

The two of you have been crossing into each other’s orbits for a long time now. He can tell that you know… You know he’s not some DEA hero. You can see right through to the failure of a man he actually is.

He takes a long drag on his cigarette before stubbing it out and pushing away from his desk. “Fuck it.”

He pulls at the back of his neck as he makes his way to your department. He can already feel the tension headache beginning. If you won’t do this for him… he’d rather not think about it.

He approaches your desk nervously. “I need a favor.”

“Is that right?” you reply, continuing your work.

“I would really appreciate it.” If he can’t flirt, he can at least try to be polite.

“You aren’t going to compliment my nail polish or tell me how pretty my dress is?”

“Uh… I… what?” Javi stammers.

“I see what you do around here. Flirting with all the pretty young things to get your way. Not me though, probably because I’ve got 20 years on most of them and a few on you.”

“What? No! Fuck, you’re the most beautiful woman here.”

“Right,” you scoff. “It’s too late for the charm, Javier.”

He leans over your desk, gripping the edge. Moving himself into the halo of your perfume. “I’m telling you the truth,” he growls.

You lift your eyes to his and his knees go a little weak.

Who is he kidding? A class-act like you is never going to bend the rules for a man like him.

“Never mind,” he pushes off your desk and walks away.

When he returns to his desk later that afternoon, he’s surprised to find the file he needs sitting on his chair.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You lean back against the elevator wall and sigh. It has been a long day and all that has kept you going is the thought of getting out of your heels and pantyhose and onto your couch.

The elevator pings as the doors open on the garage level. You step out into the cool, echoey space. That’s when you see him.

He’s standing by your car, exhaling a plume of smoke, somehow not looking green and sickly under the florescent lights. He must hear the click of your heels on the concrete because he turns and puts out his cigarette as you approach.

“What are you doing here, Peña? Need another favor?”

“Thank you for the file. You didn’t have to do that.” He shifts his weight and looks down at his feet.

“Yeah, well, lord knows you get enough roadblocks thrown in your way. I don’t need to be one of them.”

Javier chuckles ruefully, “You have no idea.”

“If that’s all, I need to get going.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” Javier looks up at you, “To say thanks?”

Your feet and back are screaming at you not to get taken in by those puppy dog eyes, but there’s something simmering beneath the surface of his gaze. Something that makes you curious. His outburst earlier hasn’t left your mind. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little interested in where an evening with Javier Peña might take you.

“Counteroffer. How about you come over to my place in an hour. Bring the booze with you.”

Javier’s eyes light up in surprise.

“Don’t get any ideas, Peña. It’s been a long day and I don’t feel like going to a bar.”

“I didn’t have any ideas.”

You scoff and make your way to the driver’s side door, “See you later?”

He nods.

Javier stands aside as you pull out of your parking space and out of the garage. You can see him in your rearview mirror smoothing down his mustache, hand on one cocked hip. It should be an interesting evening.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You open the door to your apartment and Javi is momentarily stunned speechless. You’re wearing flowy, satin pants and a cardigan belted around your waist. You’ve removed your make-up and your jewelry. You’ve let down your hair.

You’ve never looked more beautiful.

You’re always stunning at work. Elegant, put-together, gorgeous. But here, now, you look so soft and relaxed. It’s as though you’ve taken off the armor you wear to the office.

Like he’s getting a glimpse of the real you.

He always tries to hide the real him. That façade might not work tonight… a frightening thought.

You step aside and motion him into the apartment. Javi swallows deeply and forces his feet to step inside.

“I brought whiskey, hope that’s ok.” He holds out the bottle to you.

“Definitely ok, I had a feeling.” You lead him to your couch. Two tumblers already sit on the coffee table. You uncork the bottle and pour two fingers in each glass.

You hand him his glass before swirling the amber liquid in your own.

He watches, mesmerized, as you breathe in the heady aroma and your eyes drift closed. You take a sip and sigh. His cock twitches.

“That’s good whiskey, Javier.”

“Call me Javi.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You didn’t expect it to be so easy to talk to him.

Somehow you’ve gravitated towards each other. Your knee now rests against his thigh. His arm stretches behind you on the couch. Whiskey glasses sit forgotten on the table. You only needed a few sips to relax before the conversation and laughter flowed.

Swapping stories of co-workers and old mutual friends. You realize you’ve never seen him smile before tonight.

It’s a shame.

His smile lights up the room.

Javi arches back against the couch and pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s getting late.”

You make a non-committal noise in reply because your gaze has been captured by the expanse of his chest you can see through his gaping shirt.

Has his shirt been unbuttoned this much the whole time? Four buttons undone? Really? Why bother buttoning it at all?

Not that you’re complaining as you take in the view of his smooth, golden skin. You watch, hypnotized, as his chest rises and falls with each breath.

Your gaze travels upward, catching on the divot of his clavicle. The perfect place to breathe his scent.

His Adam’s apple snags your gaze next as it bobs in his throat. You have to swallow yourself, saliva pooling in your mouth at the thought of licking your way up his gorgeous neck.

His jawline comes into view. Strong and angular. Beautiful. Especially in contrast to his soft, plush lips.

They part slightly, revealing the most perfect crease in his lower lip.

Then there’s his nose. Noses shouldn’t be so arousing. It’s absurd. But there it is in all it’s aquiline glory. Like a goddamn sculpture.

You continue your journey up to his eyes and find that he’s staring at you, pupils blown.

Your mouth is suddenly dry as Javi slowly closes the distance between you, never breaking eye contact, giving you time to protest, until his lips meet yours.

A fire ignites in your body with the first touch of his lips. It burns from your head to your toes waking you up from your slow syrupy thoughts.

You climb onto his lap, knees on either side of his slim hips. His hands grip your waist. His heat bleeding through the thin fabric covering your center.

You break away from the kiss, breathless. Javi continues kissing down your throat, tugging at your cardigan. You sit back and reach between you, untying the belt and letting it fall off your shoulders.

Javi groans as he takes in the thin camisole you are wearing underneath. Your bra had come off along with the pantyhouse and heels. Your hard nipples poke against the silky fabric. They squeeze even tighter as Javi licks his lips.

“Fuck, bonita, you’re gorgeous,” he rasps. The sound goes straight to your core.

- - - - - - - - -

He didn’t come here for this.

Maybe he hoped initially. But it didn’t seem to be what you had in mind.

He wasn’t lying when he said you were the most beautiful woman at work. His eyes rove over your body of their own volition every time your paths cross. His ears tune into the sound of your laughter and even more to your witty and sarcastic remarks.

But he didn’t expect this… this connection.

You’ve set him at ease. Pulling stories from his memory that he thought were long forgotten. The urge to pour out his heart to you nearly chokes him.

You’re too good for him. Too smart, too strong, too confident. And oh, are you beautiful.

And now you’re above him, rocking into his cock, making the most heavenly sounds as you lick into his mouth. He can do sex and do it well. He can make up for everything he lacks with a good fucking.

Maybe fucking is all he’s good for.

“Take me to bed, Javi.”

He pauses. He expected your words, but somehow, they have caught him off guard. It wouldn’t be just a fuck with you. You’ve gotten under his skin. You’ve glimpsed his soul.

The words bubble up before he can’t stop them.

“I’m scared.”

- - - - - - - - - - -

His admission catches you off guard and you sit back. “Scared? Of what? I know I’m older than you, but it’s not like I’m some dried-out husk and bats are going to fly out of my vagina.” You push against his chest to get off his lap, annoyed and frustrated.

Javi growls and grabs your ass, pulling you back to him, holding you still while he finds his words. “Fuck, that’s not what I meant.” He huffs as he continues, “I’m scared because you… see me.”

The anger burns away as quickly as it came.

“I’m not the man most people think I am.” His big brown eyes that only moments ago held laughter and lust, fill with pain and doubt.

“Who are you, then?”

“Just a man. Trying. Failing.”

“I know.”

“You don’t want me.”

“What if I do?”

You’re surprised by your own admission. It’s the truth. You do want him. And not because he’s a ‘hero’ but in spite of it. You want the man you met tonight.

You watch his feelings war across his face. His body wants you, that is abundantly clear. You’re pretty sure his mind and heart do too, if he could only trust them.

“Have you been real with me tonight, Javi?” you ask, brushing the pads of your thumbs over his gorgeous cheekbones.

“Yes.”

“I won’t beg.” You’ve lived enough life to know a man that doesn’t want you isn’t worth your time. “But know that I do see you and I want you. The real you.”

His fingers dig into your hips and he swallows hard. “I’ve never done this.”

“I find that hard to believe.” That earns you a smirk, some sparkle returning to his eyes.

“You know what I mean. Real… I’ve never done real. At least not for a long fucking time.”

“I’m as real as they come, Javi. Wrinkles and all. Can you handle it?”

He brushes his fingers over the creases at the corners of your eyes and you melt. “You’re beautiful.”

You bring your lips back to his, gently testing. He wraps his arms around you, surging up into the kiss. Heat quickly builds between your bodies as your hands roam freely across his broad shoulders and up into his hair.

He groans against your mouth.

“Take me to bed, querida.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Your body is perfect.

Not in the way of youth – firm, angular, unblemished – but well-loved. Each part of you telling the story of a life well-lived.

He worships each curve of you. Reveling in what pleasure feels like with someone when he opens himself up. He kisses your softness, traces each wrinkle with his calloused fingers, delights in the sounds you make as he explores your body.

When you welcome him into your wet heat with a contented sigh, it nearly breaks him in two. You feel so right around him, moving with him, coming with him.

Sated and drowsy, he lays with you on your bed. You brush his hair off his forehead and trace your fingers over his laugh lines and the crease between his eyebrows. He’s lived some life too.

“Still scared?” you ask, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Yeah,” he rasps quietly, looking up at your soft smile, “but I think it might be worth it.”

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal

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submissiveking99 · 2 months

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The Two Ruler's Concort

OPEN RP (Male or Futa Only)

On the distant planet of Gaia, humanity lived as it once was. The planet, its six kingdoms having merged into one, was at peace. The unified kingdom, ruled by its six rulers, protected by said rulers. The Ohsama Sentai stood tall, proud.

....

And time continued to march forward for humanity

Hymeno Ran and Rita Kaniska, the former Queen of Ishabana and the former Ruler of Gokkan, have long since formed a relationship under the unified country. The singular kingdom allowing the two to explore their feelings without any of potential power imbalance that would have formed amongst them when it was just an alliance of six kingdoms

Of course, the Beautiful Flower and Unyielding Justice did have ONE issue with their current relationship... which was where your muse came in

"Ah~! You've made it!" Hymeno grinned as she saw your muse enter the royal couples bed chamber, a mix of yellow and purple decorations covering the room. This was, of course, their shared room in both of their castles as well as having their own private rooms in said castles, the couple needing privacy and their own interests of course

"I am still unsure about this, dear." the stone cold tone of Rita answered, even if a blush was covering the Sovereign's face. Their high collar doing their best to hide such a reaction. The tight black leather seeming, somehow, even tighter right now around the supreme justice's body, showing off their biological curves perfectly

"Oh, do not be so serious my lover." the yellow queen grinned before turning to your muse "As you know, both myself and their Majesty Rita here, do not have the... compatible parts to biologically produce children with each other. That is where you come in." Hymeno explained

Hymeno just grinned and suddenly hugged Rita from behind, playing with their tits "You have the honour of bedding royalty, and producing the next in line to one of the six seats of the Ohsama Sentai! Or maybe even two~! You are the best specimen for the job, after all~!" the beautiful queen purred and giggled

"Hy-Hymeno! Stop!" Rita gasped out, even moaning a bit, as their entire face turned red. Their tits bouncing within Hymeno's grasp.

"Just getting you in the mood, darling." Hymeno winked before turning to your muse "Now... who do you choose? Or do you want us both~?"

(to be 100% clear for those who do not know, Rita is a non-binary character. Biologically born female, they/them are their pronouns. I may slip up and you may as well, and that is fine, I just ask for people to be respectful about Rita's gender identity)

#read rules before interacting #rp post #open smut rp #open to all #smut rp #open rp #rp starter

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rookthorne · 10 months

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

Shopping in your favourite art store with Bucky brings back the memory of your first encounter, and after so much time has passed, it was with fondness that you looked back on just how starstruck you were in his presence.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✿ Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✿ 1.9k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✿ Tooth rotting fluff, Bucky is a flirt ჻჻჻ TROPES: Meet Cute

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✿ I have a thing for meet cutes — sue me.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ✿ Kickstart My Heart by Mötley Crüe

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✿ @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer ჻჻჻ Week 5 - "When I first met you..." — Masterlist

𝐈𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The art store you had been visiting for years was the same as ever – warm tones and homey vibes, organised by product and perfectly aesthetically pleasing to wander up and down the aisles.

It was a wonderland you would ever willingly get lost in.

A hand suddenly brushed your lower back, and you smiled. “You get all you need, Sunshine, baby?”

“I mean,” you hummed, turning to face Bucky. “I could get a lot more…”

“No,” Bucky deadpanned, face impassive par the raised brow. “You know the rules.”

You pouted at him, pleading silently, but Bucky only rolled his eyes and wandered off to the aisle of sketch pads and books. “You can get one more thing, that’s it,” he called over his shoulder. “No more than that.”

“Yes,” you cheered under your breath, ecstatic with the small win. With renewed excitement, you browsed the aisles of pencils and paints, a simple goal in mind. For a long while now, even before you had met Bucky, you had wanted to draw – capture the wonders in your mind and the beauty of the world around you.

In fact, it was in this very shop where you met Bucky for the first time. Butterflies filled your stomach at the memory – you had been so shy, so taken aback that he was even talking to you, that you were sure that the shock would be permanently etched onto your expression.

Birthday present shopping was always tricky – even more so when you were looking for something at the last damn second. The tinkle of the bell alerted your arrival, and you glanced over to see the smiling, friendly face of your friend and shop owner, Wanda. “Hey, you,” she greeted. “Back in again?”

“You know me, Wands,” you replied, shrugging. “I always leave it to the last minute.”

Wanda laughed and nodded before a fond smile made her eyes twinkle in the warm light. “Just let me know if you need help, alright?”

With a wave, you wandered through her shop, one goal in mind: a canvas of the best quality and maybe a few paints – who knew? You could walk out with a lot more; it was entirely dependent on the muse. Painting together with your friend was a tradition that you’d held for years now.

Humming a quiet song, you browsed the aisles for something to catch your eye when you side stepped and hit something solid. “Oh, shit–” You gasped, turning to see it was a person and not a shelf. The man was tall with cropped hair, a denim jacket over his shoulders, and bright blue eyes. “I am so sorry, oh my gosh–”

“You’re fine,” he replied, face blank. He quickly bent to pick up the paper you had knocked from his hands. Before you could offer more apologies, he straightened up and looked at you, gaze soft but considering. “No harm done.”

His stare pinned you in place, and your mouth opened slightly before you could stop it. “O-Okay, yeah,” you stuttered, cursing the overwhelming shyness that engulfed you whole and the damn butterflies that had taken refuge in your stomach. “I’m gonna- Uh, yeah. Bye.”

Before he could reply, you sidestepped him and rushed down the aisle to take refuge in the next one over, where more sketchbooks and pads were neatly lined up in rows on the shelves. Wanda looked up from behind the till with a sly smirk and a raised brow, as though she had heard your exchange with the handsome stranger, and you shot her a look that you hoped she’d take to heart – keep quiet.

Taking a deep breath, you began to look properly at the options available when you felt a presence next to you. “This one’s the best,” they said, voice perfectly deep and gravelly, and the sound made the cluster of butterflies in your stomach switch into frenzied flight. “You need to make sure the paper has the thickness for your medium, y’know?”

A tattooed hand moved into your field of vision, and you took a second to stare at the intricate designs woven into tanned, rough skin – peeking out from the rings and scarred calluses. Unbidden, your eyes travelled up their arm until you were face to face with the same man as before – the same one you had bumped into. His smile was small, gentle in nature.

“I love your tattoos,” you blurted, and your eyes widened slightly at the words that fell from your lips. But the man’s laughter was worth it – honeyed and sounding like molten chocolate, exactly like the ones you imagined from your romance books.

“Thanks, sweetheart, I did ‘em myself,” he replied. His other arm came into view, and you glanced at it to see even more designs – this time, a wolf and some sort of machinery.

“Wait,” you hesitated, looking into his face. A sudden realisation dawned on you – this was Bucky Barnes, the owner of one of the best tattoo shops in the area, and he was right in front of you. “Oh my god, you’re Bucky Barnes!”

“In the flesh,” Bucky laughed. He was grinning now, his eyes bright with mirth. “What’s a beautiful ray of sunshine doin’ here, huh?”

You laughed nervously, moving your hand to rub at the back of your neck on instinct. “I, um. I came to pick out a present.”

“Oh?”

“It’s my friend’s birthday, and we paint together sometimes,” you continued. Bucky was still smiling, but his gaze was flicking between your lips and your eyes as you spoke. The butterflies continued to flutter at a frenzied pace, each bouncing off the walls with fevered excitement. You took a subtle deep breath, hoping it would calm the nerves that were beginning to boil over.

“Sounds like fun, doll,” Bucky said, still with that damned smile on his lips. “I’m in here picking up supplies for the idiots back in the shop.”

You chuckled quietly and turned back to the paper that lined the shelves. Bucky’s hand reached out before you could look closer at the options and grabbed at least several pads, the paper bending slightly in his grip. “I best keep goin’,” Bucky sighed. “I’ll catch you at the till.”

“Okay,” you squeaked.

Bucky winked and made his way back over to the aisle of pencils, leaving you dumbfounded, standing rooted to the spot in shock. “What the fuck,” you murmured, wringing your hands. “Just… What the fuck.”

With haste, you chose some sketch and canvas pads to share with your friend. Then you wandered over towards the paints – resolutely ignoring the way Wanda’s eyes followed you or how Bucky dawdled in front of the selection of coloured pencils, phone in hand and a startlingly serious glare on his face.

The sound of your footsteps on the wooden floor drew his attention, and the glare softened only slightly, as he looked over at you. You smiled back at him and then looked at the vast paint selection – deciding to stick with contrasting colours.

Before long, your arms were overflowing with paints and paper and canvases. “Hey,” you said, coming round the corner of the aisle to see Wanda waiting patiently, that sly smirk still on her lips. “I’m finally done.”

“You should have a rule that you can’t buy the whole damn store, Sunshine,” Bucky piped up from behind you, a low chuckle in his tone. You jumped slightly, turning to look over your shoulder and roll your eyes at him.

“Oh, shush, Bucky,” Wanda teased, “you leave my girl alone.” Her hands moved to grab a bag, and she began to scan your acquired goods, her eyes glancing up and flicking between the two of you.

“She’s the one that bumped into me!” Bucky cried, widening his eyes. “Ain’t my fault.”

“And I apologised,” you clipped back.

“I dunno ‘bout that, doll,” Bucky replied, placing his books and massive array of pencils on the counter. “I would feel better if you let me pay for your supplies. Can’t deprive a ray of sunshine like yourself of that beautiful smile, can I?”

“Oh my god,” you breathed, hiding your face in your hands.

Wanda chuckled next to you. “You two are so cute–Buck here is only nice around me. He’s a grumpy bastard most of the time. It’s nice to see.”

“Wands,” Bucky groaned, glaring at her. You peeked through your hands to watch the exchange. “Seriously?”

“What? I’m telling the truth,” Wanda said flippantly, continuing to scan your items until she was finished – then she started scanning Bucky’s. You went to open your mouth, but she shot you a look. “I won��t hear a word against it, darling.”

A beat of silence passed as you fidgeted with your hands. You glanced up at Wanda quickly, and she pointedly glanced between you and Bucky as Bucky stared off at something in the distance.

Fuck it, you thought. “I-I just, I thought you were awesome,” you whispered, looking at Bucky through your lashes. He turned and looked at you, smiling while crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve been a fan for so long, and I just can’t believe you’re here–talking to me.”

“Aw, sweetheart,” Bucky said softly. “It’s good to meet you too, why don’t you come back to the shop with me–you can meet the idiots. My treat.”

“Really?” You rushed, excitement flooding your body at the prospect of meeting the entirety of 107th Ink. “I would love to, oh my god.”

Bucky winked. “Good–I have a feeling they’d love you, Sunshine. I have definitely enjoyed your company.”

“Alright, love birds,” Wanda laughed. “Here you go.”

“We’re friends!” You spluttered, and Bucky roared with laughter, shaking his head as he paid. “Wands–”

“It doesn’t matter, doll,” Bucky cut in, his eyes flashing with something. “Nothin’ wrong with a bit of flirtin’ between friends, is there?”

Ice cold realisation flooded your mind. It wasn’t everyday chatter, you were too damn starstruck by meeting an idol to realise he was openly flirting with you – Bucky Barnes, the stoic and grumpy tattoo legend, flirting with you.

“No,” you whispered, abashed and overwhelmed. “No, there isn’t.”

Bucky didn’t appear to hear you. “Alright, Wands, see you next time.” The floors creaked under his boots as he turned to walk towards the door, and you followed quickly, waving over your shoulder at a giggling Wanda. “Let’s go meet the idiots,” Bucky remarked, grinning at you while he adjusted the bags in his hands.

“Okay,” you replied, falling into step next to him on the footpath. “Let’s go.”

A noise from behind you startled you from the memory, and you glanced over your shoulder to see Bucky talking to another customer – expression stoic and blank as he discussed what looked to be the difference between different pencils. It was endearing, so close to how you had met him.

You observed for a moment longer until Bucky noticed you staring, and he departed the customer’s company to walk over to you. “You alright, baby?”

“Yeah,” you sighed happily, grinning at him. “Just remembering how we met.”

Bucky chuckled. “You were so damn shy–I thought if I flirted with you anymore, you would have keeled over and died on the spot.”

“I probably would have,” you said, shaking your head. “I was so starstruck and nervous to realise it was you flirting until you paid for my things.”

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured, throwing an arm over your shoulder to direct you to the counter where Wanda awaited, a smug smile on her lips. “You’re mine now. That’s all that matters.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #hotbuckysummer2023 #rookthorne's works #SB

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dollwritesarchive · 2 years

Note

For the kinkoctober may I, please and thank you, ask Sesshomaru in rut/under sex pollenlike influence?

yes!! i hope you like it my dear

𝓊𝓃𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓁𝓎 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒 ⎹ 𝓢.

❝ ғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ⤻ inuyasha / kinktober 2022 / @dollsanime-library

❝ ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs ⤻ sesshomaru x human!reader ( f )

❝ ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ⤻ nsfw! none of my writings are meant for anyone under the age of 18, and any minors interacting will be blocked on site.

❝ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs ⤻ this is a dark fic. noncon, knotting, rut, sesshomaru is unhinged, forced breeding, virgin!reader, degradation and objectification

❝ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⤻ 2.7k / mini musing

❝ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴇ ⤻ i do not consent to having my work reposted / translated / stolen in any capacity for any reason. please reblog and leave a comment to support content creators! my work is very rarely proof read so mistakes may be present. all characters / pairings i write for are 18+ with no exceptions.

your family served the Dog Daiyokai long before you were born; you remembered your great grandparents reminiscing about how kind a ruler the beast king Toga had been, how he’d graciously accepted their offerings and protected your family’s village from danger— always there when they called. he cared deeply about the humans he ruled over.

his son was another tale entirely.

Sesshomaru was cold and hateful, especially to your family. you’d only seen him a handful of times as you grew up, and you’d become the one to carry the offerings to the forest once your parents were too weak to do so, his helpful minion usually snatched up the offerings that were left at the tree line. “Lord Sesshomaru has better things to do than mingle with the likes of you.” he’d told you once when you’d tried to approach the young beast king. you can still remember the gilded glare Sesshomaru rewarded you for taking even half a step towards him. he truly hated you. a hate so deep that it’d frozen you in place. you thought if you ever saw him again, he’d kill you without a moment’s hesitation.

which is why you ran from him tonight.

it hadn’t been your fault; he could smell you from a mile away. he was drinking in every pheromone you exude as he got closer and closer. his hormones as sharp as the blade on his hip in this moment, he followed your scent like a predator tracking wounded prey. every muscle in his body pulled taut when he saw you, crouched down, arranging his offerings. he recognized you immediately— the audacious girl that had the nerve to try and approach him before, and he wanted to be angry. he wanted to feel that vile repulsion rising from his stomach to his throat that he usually experienced when he was within a swing of his sword’s distance from a mortal, but right now he couldn’t force himself to feel disgusted. he couldn’t force that hatred because his instincts had taken hold of him, and your scent was driving him mad with need.

the innocence that clung to your aroma had his claws clenching into flustered fists at his side, a crimson hue seeping into the whites of his eyes. the overwhelming, primal desire to breed only deepened, reaching the very core of his body as he took a silent step closer, and then another, and then another. with each step, the air became thicker, more intoxicating, he inhaled, deep, and sucked in the saccharine traces of your sex that hangs in the atmosphere around him. his cock twitches against his thigh. now drunk on the smell of your fertile, uncharted cunt, it hardens in his trousers and he lets out a breathy snarl.

he needed to take you now.

and that’s when you noticed his presence.

he must’ve looked frightening— blood red eyes with teeth bared, snorting in the air, a true depiction of the beast king title he wore, because you hardly let out a startled gasp before you were scrambling to your feet and sprinting towards the village. “Stupid girl.” he grimaced. even if you tried until your legs were about to give out, you’d never outrun him. he made that apparently clear when, within a blink of an eye, he bounds after and grasps you by one wrist, sweeping your feet off the ground and hauling you into the air by the hold on your arm alone. “Do not run from me.”

you wince, legs kicking wildly, and cry out, “Don’t kill me, Lord Sesshomaru!”

did he look so feral?

as rabid as he felt?

“Kill you.” he repeats as if considering the words carefully, tilting his head to one side. his sharpened nails scrape against your delicate skin, breaking a small section, and you whimper, so he releases your arm and you crumble to the dirt with a huff. “You’re no use to me if you’re dead.” pulling yourself on to your knees, you take a deep, shaky breath and turn back towards the village, crawling slow, sniffling. you can see the gate from where you’re laying, just a short run away. his words hadn’t fully registered within you until you feel a foot press between your shoulder blades, pinning your chest to the ground.

“Your family serves me, doesn’t it?” with a soft whine, you nod, rubbing your cheek against the dirt. “Then spread your legs.” he barked, using his other foot to kick at your knees until they widened, the split in your skirt more pronounced as it reveals the flesh of your thigh. “And serve me.” with what seemed like one swipe of his powerful claw, your garments split with screams of threads coming unraveled. you flinch, closing your eyes tight, expecting to be shredded right along with your clothes, but once they’re wrenched free of your body and you’re left completely bare, your face forced into the dirt, you don’t feel the sting of a fresh wound, or see any blood trickling down.

“Lord Sesshomaru,” it was hard to choke the words out, the lump in your throat massive as you try to look over your shoulder to see what he’s done. “What are you—?”

you catch a glimpse; a fraction of a second you watch the beast king undress. heavy fur and weapons in a puddle of alabaster and ruby fabric on the ground. your eyes trail along the red markings on his arms and over his toned abdomen, your face on fire with a blush when your gaze reaches his manhood. thick and veined, with a plump, pink tip and almost too girthy for you to be able to wrap your hands around, your lips part in awe, and your eyeline traces the impressive length. ceasing only near the base, where a bulbous knot was already swelling. the visage sends a swirling in your tummy, and causes a pooling between your thighs, whether you want it to or not. his eyes narrow when he catches you staring, and brings his foot down against the back of your head this time, hissing, “I never said that you could ogle me. Arch your back.”

you didn’t.

you hesitated.

until he ground his foot into your head and you whimper in submission, pushing your ass into the air, even as your legs tremble.

“L—Lord Sesshomaru…” staring down at the ground, you’re frightened, so much so that hot tears start to well up in your eyes and your nails dig into the dirt. you already know what he’s planning to do to you, and the thought alone makes you dizzy. “I can’t— I’ve never—“ the words were too humiliating to actually say, so you simply stammered until he cut your babbling short.

“The scent of your innocence is overwhelming.” he spoke matter of factly, but there’s a rough edge to his baritone, as if he’s on the cusp of losing all restraint. “But I can smell how fertile you are, too. And your body is begging to be bred.” your eyes widened, and you shake your head incessantly, attempting to use what little strength in your arms you had in order to crawl away, but with his weight pressing down on the sole of his foot against your skull, you weren’t going to be able to go anywhere. with his head tilting to one side, he examines your exposed sex. “You’re already wet.”

another shake of your head. “I— I’m not— I don’t want—“ you tense the moment you feel his tip split your folds, but he doesn’t delve right in. instead, he holds himself at his base, and drags the swollen tip between your netherlips from your maiden hole to your sensitive clitoris, gathering all of your unwilling desire to coat his cock in a layer of shine. your legs threaten to snap closed, if his foot wasn’t planted against one of your knees. your heart pounds hard against your chest. “N—no… Don’t…”

Sesshomaru ignores your winging and guides the head back to your entrance, which squeezes the air as your muscles clench when he pushes against you. you wished that you were strong enough to keep him from invading you, but with a grunt and an abrupt buck of his hips, the engorged tip stretches your previously unclaimed sex open and forces its way inside. you yip in protest, but he moans. “Tight…” he mutters, planting both, strong hands on your hips as you try to wiggle forward. his claws dig into the supple flesh as he pulls you back to meet another might thrust, pushing another couple of inches into you. your canal spasms, and you grit your teeth, forcing a strangled cry through them as the beast king severs your innocence. “I can barely fit in your little, human cunt.” he almost sounded disgusted, as if you should be more equipped to take him properly.

it hurts, a lot.

tears have careened over your cheeks and soak the ground under your face, turning it to mud that glues itself to your countenance, and you try to squirm away from him, but the more you move your hips, the harder he slams his own towards you, and the deeper you’re filled with demon cock.

“H—hurts…!” you’re panting, your little heart beating ferociously in your chest, and your entire body feels tight and defensive, “Please… stop…please, it’s too much… it hurts…!”

Sesshomaru growls, sinking his claws into your skin, pushing himself flush to your ass just to hear you squeal, “Ungrateful, little thing. What do you think you were meant to exist for, if not breeding?” his nails prick at you, breaking through to leave faint, searing scratches, “Are you so fragile that you can’t even take me without sobbing and begging? You’re absolutely pathetic, aren’t you?”

you don’t want to agree with him, but in this moment, pathetic is the best word to describe you. humiliated, you don’t answer him, and choke on your tears and the lump in your throat, instead.

“I need this,” he continues, pushing you forward only to pull you back against him, “your Lord needs it. Stop your hopeless sniveling and take my cock. Fulfill your duty as my servant. Take it until your weak, little body breaks.”

the rhythm he falls into is hard and deep, erratic thrusting as he snorts through his nose, his vulgar moans muffled and guttural. each time, he jerks you back into his rutting, and furious ripples erupt through the flesh of your ass as he reaches your limit, quick.

it’s the knot.

it’s much too swollen to fit into you while you tighten around him, and it slaps against your core instead, as if demanding to be let inside.

you claw, helplessly, at the ground, trying to find some way to relieve the pressure he’s forced on to you, each time he slams his length home in your depths, you elicit a raspy yelp. your throat is raw from screaming. the dust kicked up around you has found its way into your lungs and burns them, and Sesshomaru has been pushing your head down harder and harder, whether he meant to or not.

“More, more, more.” Sesshomaru was snarling, snapping his hips harder and harder into you, much more beast than king. he had to be following primal instinct alone. each time he pounds against you, the knot acting as a buffer, squishes against you. you can feel the power behind his rutting; he was twitching inside you, thrusts stuttering and uneven. he’s close, and he’s trying to force the bulb inside of you to cum. “Deeper. Deeper.” your toes curl tight, and you clench whenever he pushes the lump against you, trying your damndest to keep it from opening you up anymore. he was already incredibly deep, his thick tip prodding nerves he shouldn’t reach, battering a depth that you didn’t think was possible, but you were certain if he managed to shove that knot into you, that he would burst right through your belly.

“Fight me all you want.” he must’ve realized how you fought against him, because the foot on your head slides to press into your cheek, smearing you against the ground. “I’m going to breed you whether you want me to or not, cocksheath.” he grunts, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. you could feel the tickle of his soft, silvery tendrils as they drape over your back, and you would’ve wriggled if you weren’t so tightly pinned. he was no longer pushing you back and forth, but nestled as deep as he could go, slamming the knot against your cunt relentlessly. with his breath ragged, his hands slide up to your waist to find a better grip, and he drags you back against him just as hard, refusing to let the force of his pounding ricochet you even an inch forward. “Open up, and take my knot deep.”

“I can’t!” you cry, overwhelmed, “I can’t take it!” your belly was churning, all of your muscles pulled so tight you thought that they might snap at any moment, and drool leaked out of the corners of your mouth, mixing with tears and dirt against your face.

however, much to your surprise, he grunts again and pushes it against you until the lump worms its way inside. your eyes widen and you croak, helpless to stop it, and you feel the pop as it nests him fully inside of you. Sesshomaru swoons with depraved delight, rocking his hips a few more times to acclimate to the new depth he reaches. you can feel the knot swelling even fatter inside your canal, forcing an unbelievable stretch. now, you knew that he couldn’t pull out, even if he wanted to. “There it is, right there…” he whispers, harsh, as he finds a sweet spot. you clench, tight, and mewl hopelessly. Sesshomaru assaults the nerves over and over, until he catches his elusive orgasm.

even as his composure shatters, and he moans, loud, he doesn’t stop. his hips grind into yours, and you can feel spurt after spurt of warm release filling your belly. there’s nothing to be done but to accept it; you know that your body’s too exhausted to try and fight anymore, so you allow yourself to go limp and let him fill you until it starts to ooze down your thighs.

twitching, panting, Sesshomaru only starts to come down from his high as the knot begins to deflate. once it shrank enough, he removes his foot from your face and uses his heel to shove you off of his cock, instead. you lay on ground, legs shaking and limbs all too heavy to move, his cum leaving a sticky puddle on the ground between your thighs as it leaks from your freshly fucked hole.

he felt better. lighter. like he wasn’t being dragged on a leash towards you anymore, but that didn’t mean that the sight of you fucked out and trembling didn’t arouse him. he wanted to flip you over, push your legs behind your head, and shove himself back into you, hollow you out. he thought, briefly, about how many times he would have to cum inside you before your belly started to swell from it. the image alone should’ve made him sick, but his cock twitched, instead. it wasn’t fair, he decided, it wasn’t fair that you had this power over him.

“Don’t lie there too long feeling sorry for yourself.” he was back to his gruff, authoritative bark once he dressed and armed himself again. he took another look at you. he could scoop you up into his arms and carry you to the village, lay you on your bed, cover you with blankets. but he doesn’t. “I’m not the only monster in this forest that’s in rut.”

#sesshomaru #sesshomaru x reader #sesshomaru x you #sesshomaru smut #sesshomaru imagine #inuyasha #inuyasha x reader #inuyasha x you #inuyasha smut #kinktober #kinktober 2022

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hell-drabbles · 5 months

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Mammon and Bimet 1

Summary: You were wondering why Mammon kept Bimet around as his right hand man when he seems to fundamentally not understand how Mammon functions as a king. You figured it out when you decided to misplace a single coin from his little pile he collected from the street.

(The dynamic of Mammon and Bimet is entertaining to me.)

You don’t really talk to Bimet and it absolutely has everything to do with how he treats those that have no money to their name. And also because of the way he treated you upon first introductions but his treatment of those that are poor are a bigger red flag than anything.

So his absolute one-eighty turn once Mammon claimed himself to be yours annoyed you more than anything. You never met a bigger whore for money than this man.

That being said, in a weird, logical sense, you understand why Mammon keeps Bimet so close. If you were to look at Mammon as a being that is inseparable from wealth, as Mammon being wealth itself, than there would be no better worshiper than Bimet. However, this logic doesn’t really carry over in the way Bimet probably wants it to be carried.

Because the rule that Mammon works under is that "everything belongs to him." From the walls, to the gold lining the streets to even the coins lost down the sewer drain. Anything and everything belongs to Mammon, and therefore nothing belongs to you when you are under his rule. Bimet craves to have wealth under his possession, but how can he have anything if the king he serves never views it as his in the first place?

That being said…

“He’s infuriating…” you grumbled under your breath as you poked at your leftovers. Bimet was sitting across from you, as though he belonged in the same space you were in when he was so scornful of it before. Currently, on a fancy little handkerchief you’re pretty sure he never had before, was a small pile of golden coins that have been shined to near mirror perfection.

Right after eating his food, he began cleaning them, as though any speck of dirt was a sin to be erased.

“Is he now?” Mammon whispered right back to you, a smile wide on his face as though laughing at some inner joke, “if you want him gone, just say the word. You have that power over all my belongings. Though,” Mammon leaned against his chair, crossing his arms, “Well, I’m sure his reaction will be entertaining all the same.”

“I could, I could,” you mused. The thought is tempting, to watch him drag his feet out of the restaurant in that sullen manner. Then, you noticed Bimet’s attention was away from his coins, “Give me a moment.”

You leaned over and quickly grabbed a single coin from the top and slid it under a thick wrinkle in the handkerchief.

Mammon raised an eyebrow but kept his lips shut. You’re glad to see he’s not judging you for playing dangerous games. Well, it would be dangerous if your safety wasn’t guaranteed by the king by your side.

“Now be quiet!” Bimet shouted, “If I miscount again I will–” Then he finally noticed the coin missing from his pile. That certainly didn’t take long. “What?”

You sipped on your drink, long and slow as Bimet began to sweat, rage and distress overflowing from him in equal measures and he flipped his gaze from you to Mammon.

Mammon simply leaned his head on your shoulder, closing his eyes as though about to nap while you raised an eyebrow in question, as though you didn’t know a thing.

And, because he obviously can’t just accuse you or Mammon in a place as public as this, Bimet instead turned his angry rich self towards the rest of the public. “Who stole my money?!”

And so his penny-pinching rage began. The notes in his hair shook and shriveled as his robes flared around him. The devils just peacefully eating their meals froze up while others continued eating as though this was another Tuesday.

And, while he was turned around, you slipped the coin right back to the top of the pile.

Bimet took in a deep breath, not containing his rage so much as he was collecting it so he can release it on the culprit later. When his focus was back on his collection of coins, the choking duck noise he made almost made you burst out laughing.

Instead you snorted and hide it in Mammon’s hair. Easily can be confused for a gentle goodnight kiss. You can feel his body shivering with contained laughter.

Bimet quickly shoved the coins into the folds of his clothing. He bowed to you both, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be putting these in a better, more safe place.”

You waved him away, not really caring if he decided to go down the nearest cliff or go to the park. It’s all the same to you: he going away.

“So,” you tapped at Mammon’s forehead, his eyes opening, “you keep him as not just a right-hand man, but a royal entertainer as well?”

Mammon chuckled and gave you a grin, “Is it that obvious? Well, as your belonging, I won’t hide anything from you.”

#whb #what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad #drabble #hell-drabbles #hell-drabbles exclusive #tartaros #mammon #bimet #reader insert

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askthedragonriders · 8 months

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The Dragon Riders' askbox is open!

I figured it was important to help get the message about dragons to as much of the world as we could, so I made this as a means to communicating that. Feel free to ask any questions you may have! -Hiccup H. H. III

(ask blog for hiccup & the gang from the dreamworks' how to train your dragon franchise! rules under the read more!)

rules

you can specify which rider the ask is for or leave it as a general question so one of them randomly answer!

this account is SFW, so please no explicit/NSFW questions (admin is 23 but still)

shipping is allowed, but please do not try to force/pester about a ship if admin has muses say no/not interested

there may be a couple guests on the blog :) (heather, as an example) but muses will be the main six original dragon riders!

my apolocheese if headcanons/thoughts about characters do not line up with your's but alas, it be how it do

mostly depicted in race to the edge era, but will do httyd 1, httyd 2, & httyd 3 as well

account is run by @spacenintendogs!!!!! my name's rose, she/her, & i love these goobers so much <3 thank u!!

#httyd #ask blog #hiccup haddock #astrid hofferson #fishlegs ingerman #snotlout jorgenson #ruffnut thorston #tuffnut thorston #ask blog promo

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crownmemes · 7 months

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Royalty Sentences, Vol. 1

(Sentences for royal muses. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"The weight of the crown is heavier than anyone can imagine."

"Nothing lasts forever. Even the longest, most glittering reign must come to an end someday."

"Only in death does duty end."

"Everything I do, I do for my country."

"You look like you're carrying the weight of the world."

"A true leader listens to the voices of their people."

"The legacy of a monarch is measured not in wealth or power, but in the hearts of their subjects."

"Kings aren't supposed to think."

"There's all sorts of gossip in the press about you."

"Does the burden of responsibility ever ease?"

"To rule, there must be love."

"Do you dance?"

"None of us can do exactly as we please."

"Our traditions define us."

"If he thinks that being King gives him the right to say what he likes, he is a bloody fool."

"I shall, of course, give my absolute loyalty to my leader."

"There's a thin line between obligation and obsession."

"Can duty truly bring honour?"

"Everything I do, all my work, I do for the good of the country."

"The crown is my inherited burden."

"The crown is not a prize to be claimed, but a duty to be fulfilled."

"The life of royalty is a performance that is always under scrutiny."

"Power may be inherited, but it must be earned to be respected."

"Must you always sacrifice your happiness for your sense of duty?"

"To rule through fear is inefficient."

"Duty should be a choice, not an obligation."

#rp meme #rp memes #roleplay meme #roleplay memes #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #sentence starters #assorted;#royalty;

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shiyorin · 4 months

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Animal instincts

#Just romcom in 40K

#Today's menu: Leman Russ and Lion El'Jonson

#Primarchs x Reader, Reader is Imperial Agent

#Late Christmas gift and early New Year gift

Leman Russ

The endless snows of Fenris stretched as far as the eye could see, blanketing mountains and wilds alike under pristine powder. You found yourself overwhelmed at the awe-inspiring landscape, so different from your world upbringing.

But greatest curiosity lay with one who called these frigid wastes home - Leman Russ, Primarch of the Space Wolves. You observed him now, surrounded by his warriors yet apart, a lone towering figure contemplating the white void.

His austere features seemed carved from the very stone and ice encasing this planet, immovable yet holding untold depth and power beneath granite exterior. Thick fur-lined armor and coarse pelt draped his massive frame, like the predators ruling these inhospitable wastes.

But as Russ turned toward some comment, face transforming with gruff laughter at his pack's roughhousing, you saw not an impervious demigod but something familiar. Great shoulders shook in mirth like immense boulders slipping loose, blue eyes alive with warmth despite frigid surroundings. An involuntary thought slipped through, that in this moment, he resembled not conqueror but some canines, mighty and playful.

Shaking off fanciful musings, you continued observant tasks, keeping distance respectful between yourself and the lords of this domain. But later as briefings commenced, Russ stopped his gigantic form before you, breath curling like frost wolves from a mouth curled in question.

You blinked up into eyes keen yet gentle, all rational thought scattering like snow on gale winds. Impulse surged before discipline could rein it, and you found hands rising of their own accord to Russ' massive brow, carding gloved fingers through coarse hair as one might a trusted hound.

Silence descended, thick as the powdery drifts. Russ' features slackened in blank shock, pale eyes blinking owlishly. "Lass..." he rumbled, uncomprehending.

You started as if slapped, jerking hands back so swiftly your wrist protested. "My lord, I..." Words fled, face aflame to your hairline. What folly had possessed you so?!

Yet to your surprise, Russ laughed, a booming, resonant sound like glaciers calving. "By Fenris's ball, lass, yer got the spirit!"

His tone held no anger, merely bemusement. But when you swallowed apologies, you glimpsed what may have been wistfulness flickering through feral eyes, gone as swift as the thought that spawned it. Had his invisible tail genuinely twitched to wag? Definitely you are crazy or something.

"Aye, lass. Well, if the fur satisfies yer hands, s'pose I'll oblige."

To your shock, he leaned nearer once more, an unmistakable invitation dancing in blue eyes. Hypnotized, you carded soft locks obediently, finding they are softer than you think. Russ sighed, almost seeming to lean into your touch. An absurd image flickered of an immense wolf nuzzling against your hand, tail wagging invisible yet content. Smiling softly, you traced strong jaw and was rewarded with a look of such warmth and longing, all of your rational thought dissolved.

Lion El'Jonson

Your survey of the growing threat in Caliban's wilds brought you regularly to the Lion's tower, poring over maps and missives seeking the root of corruption's spread. This eve found you and him yet at work as dusk deepened, twin flames bending over parchment and discourse.

A lull arose as analysis hit dead ends once more, frustration mounting. You sighed and stretched tired limbs, risking a sidelong glance at your lord. The Lion remained absorbed, strong brows furrowed, stroking his trim beard absently as strategic mind raced.

A strange thought struck then, in this dim shuttered space, with dusk masking Caliban's savage beauty, did he not seem every inch a great cat himself? Powerful yet graceful, thinking moves ahead with predatory cunning, alone yet bound to wilder instincts doubtless few witnessed.

Before rational thought could intervene, curiosity overruled. Stepping softly, your hands found scratching points along Lion's bearded jaw and throat. Beneath your ministries his eyes slid shut, muscles unwinding with a contented sigh. Success! Like any feline such attentions soothed.

Encouraged, your nails lightly raked his scalp, eliciting a startling response, a primal rumbling purr trembled his massive frame. His relaxation vanished in an instant, eyes flying open to stare at your in wild-eyed alarm.

You stumbled back several paces, own eyes round as moons. Had Lion just...purred? Like some overgrown house tabby? Your mind reeled, seeking logical explanations amongst unfathomable strangeness unfolding.

Lion's pupils elongated before your gaze, resembling nought cat-like slits in green eyes gone feral-bright. His confusion melted into predatory stillness, fixing you with an eerie stare that raised all hairs standing on end. What strangeness possessed them?

For long moments you and him remained suspended, breathing halted, shock and unnamed sparks passing between hands dropped limp to sides once more. Then all broke at once, your stammered excuses and the Lion retreating to the shadows of his tower, retreating from… what?

That night, your sleep proved fitful, your mind restless with possibilities. Had you gone too far when crossed a line with Lion that afternoon, awakening forces better left slumbering?

Morning comes, dread coiled cold and heavy in your gut. Open the tower's door with trepidation, you froze at the grisly sight awaiting just beyond threshold. A massive deer carcass lay splayed, crimson pool already attracting swarms of flies.

Your breath caught in horror, had Lion's frustrations boiled over in vengeance? Was this brutal warning of what further torments awaited should your act overstep once more? Shaking, you backed hurriedly inside, thoughts whirling.

Meanwhile across Caliban's wilderness, Lion admired graceful flickers weaving between ancient trees, oblivious to turmoil sown. Inhaling your lingering scent lost to the mists. Pride swelled that his token gained your notice, for what better way to proclaim your worth and pique your interest further?

He would await your next visit, gifting further demonstrations of prowess to stoke your regard. In time, you would see none matched his prowess for providing and protecting what he deemed most worthy.

Extra:

Russ: Pat me, pat me, woof woof!

Lion: If I give a bigger prey, will the agent love me more?

#shiyorin's writer #wh40crack #primarch x reader #reader insert #warhammer 40k x reader #romantic stuff in 40k

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winter-rp-memes · 1 year

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Questions for Problematic/Villain muses

1. How often does your character admit to being wrong? Do they ever change their way of thinking?

2. What's something you constantly have to re-explain about your muse

3. What's an inherently problematic view your character holds

4. Does your muse deserve a second chance?

5. What's makes your muse respect someone? Are they capable of respecting others without reason?

6. Do they opmatically assume certain people are lesser than them?

7. Do you ever think that despite your muses actions/morality they do have a point when it comes to their reasons?

8. Does your character feel like their in the wrong? If so does it bother them?

9. What's a line your muse won't cross under any circumstance?

10. Is a healthy relationship (platonic or otherwise) possible with your muse?

11. Do you feel like your muse can fall/be corrupted further if pushed?

12. Does your muse have a reason for their misdeeds or is it all for pleasure?

13. When it comes to your muses love ones, are the exception to their behavior or are they also treated poorly

14. Is your muses morality compliance or does it follow a strict set of rules?

15. Do you think your muse needs to pay for all that they've done?

#inbox meme #rp meme #muse meme #roleplay meme #headcanon meme

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makeitmingi · 7 months

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Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 41]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.3K

Warning(s): Indigo has a rather graphic nightmare and anxiety caused by the nightmare. Eluding to character injury and harm.

"Even if it means that having to hurt both of us, I would do anything as long as you are safe. You'll be okay without me, Mings. You'll be okay." You held Mingi's face in your hands, trying your best to form a smile like you were okay. Tears streamed down his cheeks and it broke you to know that you were the cause of them.

"Please, don't go... Don't go, baby. Don't leave me. You promised me that you would always stay." He choked, his hands gripping your wrists tightly.

"You'll be okay." You smiled through the tears. As you leaned forward to give him a final kiss, Mingi faded away.

When you opened your eyes again and looked around, you gasped. The house around you was torn to shred, the glass cracking under your shoes as you stood amongst the mess.

"Mings!" You screamed as you saw him laying there. Scrambling over to him, you brushed the glass away, not caring that it was cutting you.

"No, Mingi!" When you turned him around to lay on his back, you nearly shrieked in terror.

Mingi was almost unrecognisable, his face black and blue from injuries. But what scared you the most was the head wound, his hair stained bright red by his own blood. You moved him onto your lap, gently holding his cheek as you cried.

"Song Mingi! Please wake up, Mings. Please." You begged as you cried, head falling into his chest. How could this have happened? How could you allow this to happen to him?

You were supposed to protect him.

"I warned you." Someone said from behind you. You turned around but your tears blurred your vision, you couldn't make out who this person was.

"Take it out on me. Why did you have to do this to him?! He didn't deserve this!" You cried.

"Hurting you would be an easy way out. I need you to hurt and how else to do it other than hurting the one you love. Now you have to live with the guilt of being the reason he's hurt." The person cackled.

"No!" You sat up with a gasp. Your heart was racing in your chest, you felt almost breathless as you couldn't keept up. Cold sweat covered your forehead and tears lined your cheeks.

3 AM

Letting out a curse, you carefully slid out of bed and went to go get yourself a glass of ice cold water. Hopefully the sudden temperature would shock your brain and get rid of the anxiety that was creeping in your chest. You leaned against your kitchen wall, you just needed to stop thinking for a while.

"Ba...by...?" Mingi stumbled out of the bedroom. He stood there, eyes barely open. He let out a yawn as he scratched his arms, trying to adjust to the lights of the kitchen.

"Hey, Mings. I hope I didn't wake you. Go back to sleep." You said softly, straightening up.

"Are you alright?" He rubbed his eyes to properly focus on you.

"Yeah... I'm fine. Just came out for a glass of water." You shook the glass in your hand, the ice cubes clinking against the sides. Mingi shuffled over to you, tilting your head up to look at him.

"Did you have a nightmare? You cried..." He asked worriedly, tenderly stroking your cheek where your tears were earlier.

"Mmm but it's just a nightmare. I'll be fine." You placed your cold hand over his warm one.

"You should really sleep. We have a flight to catch and then you'll be working right away. You need to sleep as much as you can." You sighed. Tomorrow, you were following Eden, the boys and their team for their overseas music video shoot.

The boys were expected to start from the moment they land. Their managers would be the ones bringing their bags to the hotel and checking them in.

"I'm fine. Besides, I won't go back to sleep and leave you out here on your own." Mingi insisted with a frown.

"Mings..." You chewed your lip, feeling conflicted.

"I'm not saying it is your fault." He pressed his forehead against yours, his hand never leaving your cheek. You wrapped your arms around his waist, your cheek pressing against his chest.

"You'll be okay, baby. I won't let anything hurt you while I am around." He promised, stroking your head.

You and Mingi just stood there, quietly embracing each other at 3am, under the only light that was on in your apartment. He periodically pressed comforting kisses to the top of your head, a small reminder that he was still here and won't leave you. Mingi's body pressed against yours melted away your anxiety.

"Don't fall asleep on me, baby." He chuckled.

"I won't." You murmured. You felt Mingi move and his hands slid under your thighs, carefully carrying you up. With your legs around his waist, you clung to him like a koala.

"Careful." Mingi laid down with your back on the mattress and him hovering over you. He held your cheek, his eyes searching yours even in the dark.

"Don't worry anymore, hmm?" He spoke softly. Tears welled up in your eyes again, you didn't deserve him. Really.

"Shh..." He wiped your tears. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down.

"It's okay, baby. Whatever it is, we'll get through it togther." Hearing him whisper that in your ear made you cry even harder. You softly cried into his shoulder.

Mingi turned the two of you gently so his weight wouldn't crush you. But he never you go, continuing to hold you and hush you like you were a child. One hand rested on the back of your head while the other gently massaged the exposed skin of your hip.

"I'm here, I'll always be here." He kissed your forehead. With Mingi's coaxing, you fell back asleep.

When morning came around, Mingi woke up first. He wanted to let you sleep more so he washed up and changed, even made coffee before waking you up.

"Morning, baby." He planted a kiss to your temple. The smile you replied with was forced.

"Don't trip over the luggage." He cautioned. There was a distant look in your eyes, the nightmare from last night must have really affected you.

"Ugh." You held your head.

"Here, have these first. It'll help." He put two painkillers into your hand. This time, your grateful smile was a little more genuine. You popped the pills and went to get ready for the airport. You dressed comfortably, sweat pants, a hoodie, a beanie and a mask to hide your face from the paparazzi.

"I'll see you later. If you don't feel well, tell me." He said. Mingi had to get his luggage from the dorm upstairs while you were going to meet the manager downstairs to ride with the stylists and Eden.

"I will. Don't worry about me." You tiptoed to give him a kiss. With a squeeze on the shoulder, Mingi left the house.

"Let's do this." You said to your reflection before bringing your bags to the carpark downstairs.

"You look awful. Did you not sleep?" Hongjoong frowned.

"Good morning to you too, Joong." You replied bitterly. Seonghwa nudged the captain for being insensitive while Wooyoung came to hug you, snuggling into you.

"What's with this?" You lightly tugged at the way all his hair was tucked under the beanie. He leaned back before you could pull it off.

"Surprise~" He smirked. Soon, your van came. Eden waved to the boys while you loaded your bags with the help of San and Jongho. You waved and bowed to the boys before climbing in with the few stylists. They waved back as the van drove off.

"Look guys, Indigo had a rough night. So please, just tone it down a little." Mingi sighed. Yunho cleared his throat and everyone cast glances at Hongjoong.

"What? Don't look at me like that. I didn't know! And that's how she and I banter." Hongjoong sulked, crossing his arms.

"What happened? What did you do?" Seonghwa was more worried about you than anything.

"Calm down, mama bear. I didn't do anything. She had a nightmare and I think it really freaked her out. She's been a little out of it since I woke her up." Mingi waved his hands to calm Seonghwa down.

"Poor Indigo." San pouted.

"I just want her to go and relax, not having to think too much about work." Mingi said. The other boys nodded their heads in agreement.

"Luckily they booked the whole area and lodging for the duration of our stay there. So Indigo won't be bothered and she can destress there." Yunho smiled, squeezing his best friend's shoulder. When their vans were all ready, they loaded their bags into the vans and jumped in, ready to go to the airport.

"Are you alright? You look pale." Eden asked.

"Fine. Just feeling a little tired but I'll sleep on the plane." You assured him, rubbing your eyes and pulling your hood up.

"You're there to learn but also take the time to relax and rest, okay?" He nudged you playfully. You nodded with a hum. When the van pulled up, you saw all the fans waiting.

"Are they waiting for the boys?" You asked.

"Yes, it's always like that. Don't worry, just stick with us." One of the stylists smiled to you. You bowed your head gratefully.

"The fans don't usually bother the staff. We'll still try to keep you hidden." The other stylist giggled. You figured they must know about hiding your identity.

"Let's go." You all came out of the van. Thinking your van had the Ateez members, you heard the fans preamptively scream and shutters go off. Although, you were sure some people were excited to see Eden, recognising him as Ateez's head producer.

"Who is that?"

"Is there a new person joining Edenary?" Fans were whispering about you as you walked past them.

You obviously didn't look like a stylist, you weren't dressed like them and you walked beside Eden. Some fans tried to get a glimpse of you but you made it safely to the check in counter.

"Place all check in luggage here, please." The lady smiled.

"I'll do it." One of the crew helped you. You bowed and stood to the side while the stylist team checked in.

"Umm, excuse me." Someone said. You turned around, blinking. The girl and her friend jumped as you face them, obviously weirded out by how you were entirely covered except your eyes.

"Are you part of Edenary?" She asked. You stared at her, your eyes not giving anything away.

"Do you speak English?" Her friend prompted. You didn't reply, bowing your head respectfully and following the team through to the security checks. You were worried about how you were going to remove your mask now. But then, you heard screams, the real Ateez boys were here.

"Here." You handed your boarding pass and passport to the security guard, passing through the scanner quickly now that the fans' attention was directed away from the accompanying staff.

"You good?" One of the stylists asked.

"I'm fine. Thanks." You adjusted your mask. It was relatively calm after that. While waiting to board the plane, you all got coffee.

"My name is Indigo. Part of the producing team." You introduced yourself softly. They were all friendly, all introducing themselves with kind smiles.

"Do you always wear a mask?" Sohee, another stylist, asked.

"Ah... Yes... I keep my identity hidden from public eye." You replied, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. You didn't want them to think you were a diva or conceited.

"That's smart. We should have done that from the start. Now fans know what we look like and some of them like to ask us for favours or information." One of the film crew people shook his head with a sigh of dismay. The others nodded in agreement.

"By the way, I know what you're all thinking but Indigo isn't my apprentice." Eden added with an amused smile and his arms crossed.

"She's not?"

"No, I'm not. I mean, I work with Edenary but I was brought into KQ by Eden as a freelancer. Actually I've been producing for a while now. Just underground." You explained.

"You all definitely know her songs. Her signature is 'not your indigo child'." Eden explained. You punched his shoulder to stop exposing you.

"Oh my gosh! I love your songs. You used to work with that R&B singer, Dean, right?" Soon, everyone was fawning over you. You were flustered, not used to so much attention being on you.

"It's an honour." They suddenly wanted to shake hands with you.

"No, please. I'm still learning a lot from Eden and Edenary members. I barely know anything about what it's really like in the industry above ground. That's why I'm here, to learn from all of you on this entire process." You shook your hands to. Luckily your mask was covering your cheeks.

"I've always wanted to know what your signature means." Jihyun, the makeup artist, leaned on her hands.

"It was just something silly I came up with when I was younger. Indigo children are known to possess special traits and abilities. I wanted to show that I made it myself." You coughed.

"I'm not anyone's apprentice or student, I'm not their 'indigo child' for them to take credit for." You rubbed the back of your neck.

"Wah, that's genius."

"It's really not." You mumbled. Soon, there was some loud chatter, making you look up. The Ateez boys were huddled in a group, with their managers and bodyguards.

"There are still fans on the inside?" You asked, noticing the girls that were following the group all the way to the gate.

"Some fans try to buy tickets on the be on the same flights as the boys but don't worry, the airline blocks an area for all of us and the artists. The fans aren't allowed to enter that section of the plane." Sohee assured. You nodded your head slowly.

"We should board soon." Someone said. You all gathered your bags and queued up behind Ateez for the airport staff to do a final check before you could board.

"Stay close." Jihyun tugged you in so the fans wouldn't maul you. You briefly met eyes with Mingi. His eyes were soft, full of concern.

"Omg, Mingi oppa!" The fans waved, thinking he was looking at them.

"Have a nice flight." The person handed you your ticket and passport after checking. You bowed and walked in. The guards there directed your entire group to the blocked off cabin.

"Indigo, I got us upgraded to business class." Eden informed. Your new friends pouted at your departure.

"Come on, we need to work with Hongjoong." Eden chuckled. You nodded and waved to your friends with a promise to see them later. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you went with Eden to the business class cabin where the Ateez boys were settling in. They all waved excitedly when they saw you.

"We told Eden hyung to move you up here so you can remove your mask and rest properly." Hongjoong smiled softly.

"Thanks, Joong. I really appreciate it." You removed your mask and went to the spare seat. You were in the middle aisle, with Mingi on your left across the aisle and Seonghwa directly on your right.

"Hyung, change places with me." Mingi said.

"No chance." Seonghwa scoffed, making you giggle. Mingi sulked while you reached over to pat his hand.

"I'm still next to you, Mings." You comforted. From beside Mingi, Yunho nodded in agreement and gave you a thumbs up. Mingi glared at his best friend.

"I know they will be serving the meals after but here." Seonghwa got your attention, offering gummies.

"Candy for breakfast, Hwa?" You teased.

"You want them or not?" He gave you a deadpanned look. You nodded and took a few gummies to eat. Although you didn't mention it, this was the first time you have ever left Korea and been on a plane. Your heart pounded with nerves.

"Never flown before?" Seonghwa asked softly, his hand coming to hold yours.

"That obvious?" You winced. He chuckled, reaching out to pat your head but he didn't say anything more. After the safety video played, the plane started to move.

"You should have asked for a window seat." Seonghwa whispered. He felt you subconsciously squeeze his hand.

"Would that have helped?"

"I think it makes you feel less claustraphobic and knowing where you are in the take off might help. Or else you don't really know where you are yet. In the sky? Still ascending?" He theorised.

"That makes sense." You hummed. Seonghwa continued to offer you gummies to make you feel more at ease.

Not once did Seonghwa ridicule or question you about this being your first time flying. He didn't judge. So what if you have never been in a plane before? That's nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone has their own reasons. And it helped that Seonghwa knew what kind of parents you grew up with.

"There we go." The seatbelt sign turned off and you let go of Seonghwa's hand with a sigh of relief. As if it were routine, the boys stood up to get their stuff from the overhead.

"Do you still have a headache?" Mingi crouched down in front of you, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

"I'm alright, Mings. Don't worry." You smiled.

"If you need me, at any time..." He trailed off, opting to kiss your fingertips. Seonghwa cleared his throat at Mingi's bold action. Your cheeks heated up.

"The attendants are going to come in for the first round of drinks soon, Mingi ah." Seonghwa reminded.

"Right." Mingi shot you another adoring look, stroking your head before returning to his seat. You pulled your mask up.

"This is the menu. In the meantime, would you like something to drink?" The attendant asked.

"Orange juice would be good. Thanks." You bowed your head as you received the inflight menu. She placed the orange juice down on top of a napkin. After that, she moved on the the next person. You looked over at Seonghwa.

"Not sure what to eat?" He knew you too well. You nodded, hiding behind the menu in embarrassment. Seonghwa recommended you his favourite items on the menu.

"They have this really nice cheese bread. It's served warm which makes it nice." He recommended.

Of course you couldn't go wrong with Seonghwa's food recommendations. Everything you got was surprisingly good, you enjoyed every course and dish that was served to you. .

"I bet you thought airplane food was gonna be bad." He chuckled, reaching out to wipe a crumb away from your lip. You nodded sheepishly.

"Television doesn't portray it as being the best."

"True. I guess a lot of airplane food can be quite terrible. But we We are in business class and we know what to order so that helps." He said, taking a bite of his pasta. With your meal, you ordered a glass of red wine, hoping that the little bit of alcohol will help keep you asleep for the rest of the flight.

"I'm so full. I think I can sleep now." You yawned. The flight attendant came to clear your empty trays and you got ready to sleep. You reclined the seat and put your Airpods in to sleep.

"Is she asleep?" Mingi asked as you were facing away from him. Seonghwa nodded, putting a finger to his lips.

"Mingi." Seonghwa cautioned when Mingi stood up from his seat and stood by your side.

"I'm not going to do anything, hyung. And everyone else is asleep." Mingi gestured to the cabin. He adjusted your blanket and looked at your sleeping face.

"Sleep well." He kissed your head before returning back to his seat.

Series Masterlist

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