Laterosal: Scripts - Tumblr Posts

♤ Blind Heat | Chigiri Hyoma x Reader

▽ featuring: chigiri hyoma x fem reader … no repost on any platforms © laterosal 2024 … a female track student who jokingly confesses to (shitty? personality) chigiri … word count: 3.4k

📌 AO3 | one-shot

Sprint race, straightaway. 100 meters… Your eyes wandered down your lane. Lane 5.

“On your marks!”

You stretched out your arms, your long, wavy hair tied into a high ponytail. Another day, another run with the wind. Your spikes dug into the synthetic rubber, and you positioned yourself in the starter position on the starting blocks.

“Set!”

Your eyes are full of a fiery passion as you pull into a complete set position, with your teammates next to you. You held in your breath—

As the gun went off, you felt a sense of rush in your head, a thought to reach the end. Your legs were burning by the 50-meter mark—Were you wanting an extra boost to the end..?

You felt your steps falter, a realization that most of your teammates were in front of you now. A final push, and you made it to the end.

“15.39, L/N.” Your coach nodded as he clicked a button on the stopwatch. Your breathing grew sporadic as you stood in front of your coach, trying to catch your breath. “Consistent timing, though. Not bad.”

“Thank you.” First year in high school, and for practice, you were put in Varsity with the other girls who have trained for two-three years. Not many female students enjoyed Track and Field, after all, since most of the students only joined due to their talent or passion. For you, the latter.

“Nice job, Y/N-kun. You’ve improved since the first practice.” Your friend, Nori Ayaka, the captain of the Girls Track and Field team, fist-bumped you. “You just need a final push at the end. Overall, your form was great, so no need to worry about that.” She gave you a warm smile.

“Thank you, thank you.” You inhaled a deep breath, turning to the stands in the school stadium. “Oh—Who’s that?” You pointed at a boy wearing your school uniform with reddish-pink neck-length hair, with crutches laying on the stands next to him.

“Ah. You don’t know anything about the football people, hm? That’s Chigiri Hyoma—pretty cocky on the field, until he tore his ACL recently.” You cringed at the mention of an injury, since you often thought how an injury could ruin your life, your career on the track as well…

“Is he alright?” Ayaka stared blankly at you when she heard you murmur the words.

“What’s that about?”

“He looks…” You scrunch your eyebrows together. Sad. That didn’t seem like it fit his aura—his eyes that looked like his sole purpose of life was gone. “Defeated.” You nodded slightly, thinking that the word best suited Hyoma Chigiri’s spiraling emotions.

“I guess. I mean, yeah.” Ayaka shrugged knowingly. “It’s like for us; if you tore your ACL, it would be more difficult…” To continue your life on the track. “I pity him, honestly.” Your friend sighed dramatically. “Enough with this sad talk. Go finish up your cooldown with the others, and you can head out after. See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

“‘Morrow,” you murmured. “Ayaka-kun.”

You finished up your cooldown workout with the other girls, ending practice with a fistbump between each other. You turned your head around, noticing Hyoma Chigiri still on the stands, his eyes peering at each one of you guys. You made your way to the stands, plopping next to him, a towel wrapped around your neck as you brushed off the sweat still dripping down your face.

“Hey. You’re Hyoma-san, right?” You cocked your head to the left as he noticed you next to him. His dull, magenta eyes were visibly annoyed, as if he didn’t want to hear any more words coming out of you. You suppressed a sigh, knowing that it would be difficult to talk to Chigiri Hyoma.

“Are you also here to dramatize how my talent is wasted? Save yourself a breath.” Chigiri hissed angrily. You sat up straighter, your interest piqued.

“‘Also?’ Hyoma-san, are you being bu—” He shoved his hand on your mouth.

“Don’t. And I don’t need another one of you guys pitying me.” He released his hand on your mouth.

“I wasn’t even going to bring up your football career. Not that I even know anything about that.” You murmured as you saw Chigiri going for the crutches.

“Then what?” He stared at you intently. “I’m sorry, I’m not interested in being in a relationship with you.” Chigiri Hyoma huffed. “So? What else do you need, if you still aren’t budging?”

A smile tugged on your lips. “Well, I was going to ask you why you were so interested in sitting here on the stands alone.” You shrugged. “And you’ve been here for a while, since most likely before my last 100-meter dash practice to after practice.”

He frowned, his magenta eyes dimming.

“I have my reasons.” He dragged a hand along his face. “And stop bothering me.”

“If you didn’t want to be bothered, you didn’t have to say anything to me in the first place.” You retorted. You winced at the slight sharpness in your voice. “Sorry.”

He clicked his tongue, before half-heartedly waving at you.

“Later.”

He maneuvered down the stands with his crutches, and you were tempted to help him. Though, you assumed that Chigiri Hyoma would most likely refuse your assistance and call you bothersome again.

The rest of the day passed by smoothly as you rushed back home, stepping into the shower to feel the warm water trail down your skin. Chigiri Hyoma… He seemed like a pretty blunt kid. Even after you tugged on your pajamas and stuffed your dinner into your mouth, as you shut off the lamp light to go to sleep, you still thought of his words. “I’m sorry, I’m not interested in being in a relationship with you.” You kick your feet under the bed cover as you giggle yet again. He thought you were going to confess to him.

“I’m surprised you’re here in the library. You don’t seem like the type of studious person.” You grinned at Chigiri Hyoma. “Is this seat empty?”

“Rejected. Stop bothering me, dumbass.” Chigiri Hyoma didn’t even look up from the book he was reading from. He flipped to the next page, not bothering to look at you. His crutches seemed to have disappeared, too, as you noticed that nothing laid beside him.

Your mouth dropped as he called you a dumbass.

“‘Dumbass.’ Dumbass? Excuse me? And do you think I’m even trying to confess to you?” You feigned being shocked. “Oh, maybe I should pretend I’m confessing to you. Oh, my, Chigiri. Can I, like, have your phone number? You’re so cute~” You mimed gagging. “Bleh. You’re not even my type.”

Chigiri frowned as he closed his book shut. You heard him murmur for a second.

“... a first.”

You grinned at him again.

“Well, then I’ll stop. You continue on with reading your book, Prince Panther.”

He scowled as he heard the nickname, then swiveled to you, getting a better glance at you. You had your hair up in a bun; on one side, some strands that you braided were carefully tucked behind your ear.

“I’ll confess to you another day, then.” Your grin was more wide this time, full of mischief. “I’ll just continue bothering you, Prince Panther.”

“I hope that was a joke, dumbass.” He returned to his now-shut book, a loud sigh escaping his mouth.

“Okay, okay. See you later on the track, maybe?” You leaned in more forward to see what Chigiri Hyoma was reading. You crinkle your nose as you see unfamiliar—foreign words on the pages. “English? What the… English freak, Prince Panther.” You rolled your eyes as you slung your backpack on one of your shoulders again, heading out of the library. Behind you, Chigiri Hyoma looked up from his book and stared at you again. A dumbass who didn’t even look at Chigiri Hyoma romantically. A first, really. His heart fluttered as he saw your figure disappear into the crowded hallways.

A daily routine turned into a weekly, then monthly routine. Everyday after school, you would catch Chigiri Hyoma staring at you as you tried your best to improve your 100-meter times. After practice, you would tease him relentlessly and pretend you were trying to confess to him again. He would roll his eyes, tell you that you were a dumbass, and the day ended there. You noticed that instead of being so blunt like the first time you’ve met him, he seemed to speak a little more gently towards you. Although sometimes, you would let him know the day before about another track meet—so there were days you and him never met up together.

Now, it was almost summertime, the heat finally catching up to you as you trudged to school early in the morning.

“Mornin’, Ayaka.” You waved at her as you lifted up your droopy head. “It’s too hot, and I just want to jump into the swimming pool…”

Ayaka burst into laughter.

“At least the track season ended yesterday, yeah?” Ayaka folded her arms as you both walked into the school. “No more running under that demonic Sun trying to kill us. The heat, really, is unbearable.” She fanned herself with her hand to cool down.

You stared dead into her eyes.

“What? Track season ended? I thought we still had practice…” You blinked in confusion.

“You really weren’t listening yesterday, hm? I can probably tell you why.” Ayaka’s eyes twinkled in mischief.

“Oh, yeah? Why might that be? Is it because of summer? Or am I just really, really exhausted… Oh, it’s the heat. The heat is catching up to me. For sure.”

“Neither, actually. You can be so clueless sometimes, Y/N-kun.” Ayaka’s smirk creeped up her face. “You’re always so bright and full of energy every time Coach announces that practice is over. Actually, I take that back. The heat, to some degree, is catching up to you.”

“Huh?” You scratched your head. “Wait, so I wasn’t listening to Coach because I was so excited that practice would end? And what ‘heat, to some degree?’”

Ayaka rolled her eyes.

“Uh-sure, I—” Ayaka started.

“Wake up, dumbass.” Chigiri gently smacked your shoulder, then walked right past you to his homeroom class.

“Oh—Hey.” You saw Chigiri strolling past you, his reddish hair now halfway to shoulder-length.

“Speaking of the devil…” Ayaka’s grin grew wider and wider. “Man, you two have really gotten closer than ever. You’re probably his only friend in the school, you know.”

“Huh? He doesn’t have any friends from football?” You snapped your head up.

“Do you guys not text and talk about these things?”

“I… didn’t even ask him for his phone number.” You cackled as you realized that your past interactions all started because you were “pretending to flirt and confess” to Chigiri Hyoma.

“Pfft—” Ayaka raised her eyebrows knowingly. “Oh well. I mean, no, I guess, since he being the cocky bastard from before—Well, you know. Most people looked up to him and envied his talent but didn’t want to be friends with such a blunt person.”

“Oh. I didn’t…”

“Oh well. He looks a lot happier when he’s around you, you know that?” Ayaka sighed dreamily. “I’m envious of you, Y/N-kun.”

You smacked her head playfully.

“That’s enough teasing me, Ayaka-kun.” Your face was blushed, the tips of your ears reddening. “Plus, he doesn’t even like me.”

“Uh, uh. And now you’re really, really—”

“No more teasing me, Ayaka-kun.”

Both of you walked to your separate homeroom classes, waving at each other with Ayaka casually mouthing: “I’ll root for you no matter what, Y/N!”

You rolled your eyes and swatted in the air as if physically dismissing her words.

His phone number… His phone number….

During lunch, you found Chigiri Hyoma yet again immersed in another English book. His reddish hair was easily spotted in the library, and you casually slid into the seat next to him.

“So, Hyoma-san—Your phone number, please.” You batted your eyelashes at him, who still continued reading. “Hyoma-san, your phone number!”

“I don’t know if this is another half-assed attempt on your joke-flirting or not anymore.” Chigiri scrunched his eyebrows together. “So? Rejected, for every joke-confession that you have ever uttered to me…”

“Wait.” You paused suddenly, staring at Chigiri blankly. “What did you just say?” Your mouth dropped open as you processed his words.

“That I’m going to reject each and every joke-confession you’re going to..?” You grinned at him as you mouthed: “That was not a confession.”

His face flushed, and he put the back of his hand to his face.

“You thought that was meant to be another confession? No, I was genuinely asking you. Plus, what do you think will happen if I actually confessed to you?” You smiled at him, batting your eyelashes.

“Then I’ll drop you.” You groaned as he returned to his book.

“You’re no fun, Hyoma-san.”

“Neither are you. Let me continue on with reading, since you disrupt me every lunch period to bug me.”

“Whatever.” You left the library with a silly grin on your face. What if you confessed to Chigiri Hyoma, someone with the shittiest personality?

“Were you waiting for someone?” You tip-toed to get a better glance at Chigiri Hyoma. “You don’t seem like the type to wait for anyone.”

“And you don’t seem like the type to question everything I do.” Chigiri Hyoma rolled his eyes. “But you are, and you do.” The end bell had just rung, and you were tempted to run back home to get started on the anime and k-dramas you wanted to binge-watch, with microwaved popcorn and blankets surrounding you in a cozy environment. Chigiri Hyoma stood in front of the school gates, folding his arms as he noticed you with the same mischievous grin.

“Who were you waiting for?”

“You. Who else, dumbass?” Chigiri Hyoma frowned as you cocked your head to one side.

“What, are you here to bring me on a date~” You teased Chigiri Hyoma.

“Yeah.” You choked on your spit as you stared at him in shock. You froze in your step, widening your eyes.

“Okay then, date it is. Where are we going?”

“My house.” You coughed some more, inhaling a fresh breath in.

“Are you just casually inviting me to your house?” You smacked him in the shoulder, leaning against his arm. He walked a few steps, hesitated, then reached for your hand nearest to his—locking them together. You didn’t breathe the whole way you walked to Chigiri Hyoma’s house, with you nervously padding on the sidewalk. “My house…” His house… Your palms felt sweaty as you arrived at his house, hearing a cheerful voice from inside the house.

“Ma, Hyoma-chan is back! Oh, and with a pretty girl, too!” A girl, with the same reddish hair below her shoulders, smiled warmly at you. “Hyoma, is this your girlfriend?”

“Stop it, nee-san,” Chigiri Hyoma’s face was flushed when his sister teased him. “She’s just a friend.”

Your step faltered as you followed behind him. Just a friend? You suppressed a sigh, staring at his flowy hair. You seemed to want more, even after all those joke-confessions. Maybe… you didn’t just want to confess to him jokingly.

“Y/N, are you alright?” You snapped your head up as Chigiri Hyoma his hand up to your forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever… or anything.” He stared at you intently.

“I’m alright, really.” You forced a smile, the familiar eccedentesiastical manners you often showed to strangers in the school hallways. She’s just a friend. Boundaries, Y/N. Boundaries.

“Okay.” He linked his hands with yours. “Come on in. Ma made some food—and some extra, since you’ll be our guest.”

“Ah, no, it’s alright. I don’t want to disrupt—”

“Don’t be shy now, Y/N.” You snorted and finally accepted his invitation to eat dinner with his family.

The food Chigiri Hyoma’s mother made was delish—the warm miso soup and sushi she had made by hand—followed by karinto manju for dessert. Chigiri Hyoma’s eyes lit up like a child receiving a Christmas gift when he saw the plate of karinto manju on the dining table as his mother asked us all to dig in.

“Thank you for the dinner, Mrs. Chigiri.” You smiled at her after stuffing a karinto manju into your mouth, then adding: “Oh, I’ll help with the dishes.”

“No-no-no,” Mrs. Chigiri shook her head. “Hyoma, take care of Y/N. Oh, that is your name, right?” You nodded. “No need for cleaning up. You’re our guest, after all.” Mrs. Chigiri leaned in close to you. “Plus, it’s been a while since I’ve seen Chigiri Hyoma make new friends and invite them over. He seems really happy now, with you here.”

After some waving off from his mother, you finally gave in and followed Chigiri Hyoma to his room. Happy… with you here.

“You’re persistent, huh.” Chigiri Hyoma raised his eyebrows at you. “Though I’m glad you’re willing to help.”

You shrugged, taking a look at Chigiri Hyoma’s room. Everything was organized, as even the blankets were folded neatly on the bed. The window blinds were slightly tilted downwards, the sunlight seeping into the dark bedroom.

“I’m used to doing things alone, anyway.”

“Oh.” He sat on the ground, leaning against the side of his bed. “Here, sit down next to me.”

You hugged your knees to your chest as you stared at his eyes full of energy, contrasting the eyes you noticed when you first met him. You instinctively reached for his hair, then started braiding it. He didn’t seem to mind; rather, he stared at you as you continued on with your intricate work of weaving strands of hair together.

“Would you ever get into a relationship?” You murmured as you unclipped a hair clip from your hair to clip his braid together. “Aw, look at you.”

He snorted as he touched his hair gingerly, as if viewing a valuable work of art.

“Maybe… someday.”

“I see. Waiting for the perfect girl, yeah?” A smile tugged on your lips as your eyes were laced with pain.

“... clueless.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re a dumbass, that’s all.”

“What would someone say as a confession… for you to accept?” You asked quietly, fidgeting with the loose strands.

“Who cares about that?” Chigiri Hyoma drew his eyebrows together as if annoyed. “I mean, it doesn’t even matter what words they use to confess.”

“Okay. Even if the confession sounds far-fetched?”

Chigiri Hyoma shrugged, responding with: “Sure, I guess.”

“I… like you, Hyoma-san.” Blush crawled onto your face as you averted your eyes, fidgeting with your hands while feeling your heart pound against your chest. Done. And that’s all. You shut your eyes together, bracing for the worst.

You felt his hand slip under your chin, lifting your head higher.

“May I?”

Your eyes met, his soft pink eyes that gazed at your lips, a desire for a gentle kiss. You nodded gently as he leaned forward, caressing your flushed cheeks, then pressed his lips firmly against yours. Surprised, you pulled away, feeling the soft breaths between you two. The electricity of the kiss sent a shiver down your spine as his eyes longed for more.

“Waiting for the perfect girl?‘” His voice softened. “It’s you, Y/N. I already know it’s you.”

“How would you not think that my confession was a joke?” You murmured as you leaned against his shoulder in the bedroom, closing your eyes shut.

“Because… you’re you. And you never directly confessed to me like that.” He put his hand over yours as you fidgeted with your clothing. “Your eyes tell me a lot, too.” You pop open your eyes, staring at his grin. “You always seem full of energy every time you leave practice, too.”

“Oh, Ayaka also mentioned that.” Your thoughts wandered to when both you and Ayaka were walking into school, talking about Chigiri Hyoma.

“It’s not unnoticeable. Your feelings, I mean.” Chigiri Hyoma chuckled as he kissed your forehead, your cheeks heating up.

“Then why did you tell your sister that I was just a friend?” Your voice tightened as you fiddled with his hand, eyes wandering up the walls as if viewing a beautiful artwork.

He hesitated to answer.

“You’re not. I just didn’t want my sister to tease me any further. She’s… very observational.”

“So she knew you liked me?”

“Yeah. Did you not?” He stared at you in surprise, his dark pink eyes twinkling in the shadows of the bedroom. “I thought…”

“Maybe I am a dumbass, then.”

“Then, dumbass, do you want to go on a date with me tomorrow?”

♤ My Dear Seraph | Yukimiya Kenyu x Reader

▽ featuring: yukimiya kenyu x fem reader … no repost on any platforms © laterosal 2024 … a stylist for yukimiya kenyu? ooh boy~ … word count: 3.1k

📌 AO3 | one-shot

“You’re the model?” You gaped at him in shock as you dropped the cup of coffee onto the ground. Monochrome loose top, gingham collar, cargo pants… It hadn’t been just moments ago you crashed into him and snapped at him; you, too, were almost late to another editorial shoot to be the stylist for the client—Yukimiya Kenyu. Him?

“Oh, it’s you—” Yukimiya Kenyu, the client, removed his mask and smiled warmly at you. “How are you?”

“You aren’t even going to ask why I—”

“There’s really no need, since I’m sure you have your own reasons.” He winked at me, the bells from closing the door jingled slightly. Hm.

“Y/N, this is Yuki-kun. I hope you two can get along well…” Yuki’s agent, Tomiko, clapped her hands. “Ah. This is Y/N, and she will be your stylist for this editorial shoot.” Tomiko’s hair was tied into a bun, a clipboard in her hands with her free hand adjusting her glasses.

You silently groaned to yourself as you realized you were rude to your client, this model and student who looked too pure in your eyes. You quickly cleaned up the coffee mess on the ground, before striking up another conversation with Yukimiya Kenyu’s agent.

“Yes, yes. Can I check his portfolio real quick?” You cocked your head to the right, forcing a smile on your face as you stared at Yukimiya Kenyu.

“Ah, here.” You gave a quick glance on the agent’s electronic device through Yukimiya Kenyu’s previous shoots and swiped past each photo. Well, he sure does look stunning. You grinned at yourself as you zoomed into some photos—then exited as quickly as you glanced. His smile, posted on some photos, had some type of warmth in it.

“He’s never once done candid photoshoots, huh?” You clicked your tongue and shook your head as you remembered the purpose of this editorial shoot: candid photos, rather than another commercial shoot. “Interesting. I kinda get the vibes. Oh, and the measurements, Tomiko-san.” You frowned as she quickly handed you the clipboard with the measurements as you hummed to yourself the numbers as a quick scan. You felt a pair of eyes staring at you closely, the eyes of Yukimiya Kenyu, who wondered what clothing you would bring to the table.

“Half-turtleneck top… no, how about a lapel deconstructed flight jacket? And some accessories… a pair of sweatpants? Hm…” You murmured to yourself as you reached the bottom of the measurements page. “Ah! Balloon sweatpants… The ongoing trend for now…”

“Is there anything wrong, Y/N?” Tomiko asked nervously as you murmured even more.

“Hm?” You snapped your head up. “Oh, no. Sorry, take a seat—please. I didn’t mean to take up too much of your time.” You gestured for them to sit on the high stools near your working space at the counter—in this small-space area of where your creations take place. Sewing, knitting, and the zippers and buttons and the needle that threaded every one of the clothing for the famous actors and models. That was you. And they—models and agents—sometimes fear you, since you tend to want things done as quickly as possible. Your need to rush things made your temper flare at times—but for this client, for Yukimiya Kenyu, you wanted to take your time. He seemed to have this certain charm for you to slow down your life, the time with him seemingly longer.

“Okay. Oh, will the photographer only be here tomorrow—the day of the photoshoot?” You asked as you set the clipboard aside, digging into boxes full of materials.

“Oh, yes. Just tomorrow. Uh-thank you so much for having us today, L/N Y/N. I wasn’t quite sure whether you would be willing to work with us for Yuki’s photoshoot.” Tomiko nervously responded. “You are a busy person, after all.”

“Sure. No problem.” You shrugged as you gave them both a smile. A college student and a feared stylist… You giggled as that thought wandered into your mind. Yukimiya Kenyu, hearing a giggle from you, raised his eyebrows when your back was turned to him. “Were the measurements taken recently?”

“Oh, yes. We didn’t want to bother you with such trivial things, after all.” You suppressed a snort. Trivial things? These “things” were what stylists often did themselves to perfect the best clothing choices for the client. Oh well. “Would you like anything to drink while you prepare some clothing ideas for Yukimiya Kenyu?”

“Sure. Any place is fine. Caramel macchiato, with milk foam and oat milk and steamed hot. Light caramel drizzle, and two shots of espresso, please.” Your eyes still trailed Yukimiya Kenyu’s photos that were still brightly displayed on Tomiko’s screen on your counter. You sketched out some designs on blank sheets of papers, tapping the butt of the pen against the counter.

“Then, a flat white for me.” You raised your eyebrows as your eyes were focused on the design as you heard Yukimiya Kenyu’s order.

“Alright. I’ll be back soon, you two.” Tomiko rushed out, with both orders scribbled onto a small notebook.

“Specific in ordering too?” Yukimiya Kenyu grinned at you as he drummed his fingers against the counter.

“Yep. Just a part of me, I guess. Specific and precise.” You locked eyes when you lifted your head up at his bright, orange eyes. “And you?”

“That’s just my go-to. I don’t try anything new—I just stick with whatever I like.” He shrugged in a carefree manner. “I’m not too picky with my orders.”

“And are you implying I am?” You smirked at him as he widened his eyes in shock.

“Oh, no, no, sorry—I didn’t mean it in that way.” He responded flustered. His cheeks were heated, and his ears had a pink tint.

You giggled as you slapped your pen down onto the counter.

“Yuki-san, I meant that as a joke.” You laughed even more as he opened his mouth to say some words, before closing it again. “Sorry.” You wiped a tear from your eye.

“Well, I suppose your order does make up for the spilled coffee from earlier.” You nodded at Yukimiya Kenyu’s words.

“Yeah. I was just… a little surprised to see you here. I didn’t realize—Oh, let me apologize for earlier… for being really rushed and rude.”

“No worries. Again, you do have your own reasons, yeah?” He murmured as he stared intently at you, his rounded glasses reflecting the light from your lamp on the counter.

“Do you wear glasses during photoshoots?”

“I don’t have to.” He mumbled uncomfortably, taking off his glasses and setting them on the table. He looked… stunning. His orange eyes gently gazed at you as your mouth dropped slightly, before you swallowed slowly.

“Oh, you can wear them if you’d like. It wouldn’t be a bother, I think…” You scratched your head nervously. He looked like an angel, from the Heavens they sent him. “Pulchritudinous star—” You slapped at your babbling mouth, eyes widening. “Sorry—” You burst into laughter again. “Your beauty throws me off, really.”

“I can see.” He looked at you innocently as a grin formed on his face. “I shouldn’t be distracting you too much from your work, right?”

“You already have, my dear client Seraph.”

The sound of the shutters and clicks from the camera made you feel at ease as you looked at Yukimiya Kenyu, the holy Seraph model— Too blinding for your eyes. You suppressed another giggle as you made eye contact with him, his small wink at you that made your cheeks feel flushed. Although you pulled an all-nighter to sew the clothing for him to wear, you thought that it was worth the end product. If he were really to have descended from the Heavens with his captivating beauty, you wanted him. He had a different aura from the rest of the boys who often flaunted you, and his signature smile that made you feel the wings of the butterflies fluttering.

“That’s it for today.” The photographer released a sigh and glanced through the photos from his camera. “Y/N-kun, as always, what an interesting outfit choice. I mean, your design for Yukimiya Kenyu—” He added when you raised your eyebrows. “Come take a look at the photos.” The agent Tomiko inched near the photographer as she nodded at each photo.

“Isn’t this cafe a beautiful shot though?” You sighed dreamily as you stared out the windows of the busy streets and cars driving by, the cityscape all displayed from this cafe window. A yawn escaped your mouth as you stretched out your arms.

“It really is.” Yukimiya Kenyu remarked as he glanced at you from head-to-toe. You turned to face him, grinning at him. Did he say that the cityscape was beautiful—or did he mean you? You noticed him pulling his pair of glasses out of his pocket, slowly adjusting his glasses. He sure did look alluring with or without his glasses. “You didn’t sleep last night, did you?”

You shrugged and sighed.

“It’s what gets the work done.”

He looked at you guiltily and nodded his head.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s nothing, Yuki-san. Really—”  You added as he scrunched his eyebrows together. Your phone vibrated in your pocket as you read the messages.

[M, REO]

Are you free today?

[YOU]

i’m with yuki-san right now

uh but yeah, i guess so

[M, REO]

Bring him over to my place.

I’ll send you the address in a second.

Business calls.

[YOU]

oh okay

ohhhh are you treating us for dinner?

[M, REO]

Yukimiya Kenyu, right?

He was my teammate in football before.

[YOU]

at the blue lock project thing?

[M, REO]

Yeah. Bring him over in thirty.

No, head to the park. I’ll have someone drive us over.

[YOU]

yes sir, rich kid

You paused as you responded, frowning as you scrolled up at the text messages. How did he know Yuki-san as Yukimiya Kenyu..? And THE Yukimiya Kenyu also played football?

“You are a famed stylist, after all.” You jumped as you realized Yukimiya Kenyu hovering behind you. “And I am somewhat of a well-known model. Sorry, I didn’t mean to glance at your text. I was going to ask you something, but I’ll tell you later.”

“Ah. Okay!” You gave him a fistbump before waving at his agent and the photographer. “See you two later!” They murmured their farewells before heading straight back to the photos.

“You know Reo?” Yukimiya Kenyu asked as you both hopped onto a public bus to head to the park. “Actually, I’m not surprised.”

“Mhm. He was my client a few times—” You rolled your eyes as you remembered him teasing you about taking his measurements. “And a long-time friend of mine since high school.”

“I see.” Yukimiya Kenyu murmured as he gripped your arm so you wouldn’t topple over in the bus as it screeched to a stop.

“Thank you, Seraph.” You giggle at him again. “You’re super adorable, huh?”

He smirked at you as he eyed you cautiously.

“Sure. You’re super cute, then.” He hesitated to add on: “Like a kitten.”

“So I am a kitten!” You squealed in delight as his face flushed again, shaking his head.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that—”

“You know I’m just teasing you, right?” You gave him a grin again. “You don’t have to worry about that. I just make everything a joke—”

“Sure, then.” He patted your head like a kitten as he chuckled when your face was a pink tint.

“Oh… Um… were you going to say something before? Uh…” You stumbled over the words, still flustered from his head pat.

“Right. Do you want to get coffee someday?” He murmured as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah! Are you waiting to have my order memorized and said to the barista who stares at you like a maniac?” You cracked a smile.

“Yeah. Caramel macchiato, steamed hot, with milk foam and oat milk. Light caramel drizzle, and a shot of espresso.”

“Two shots.” You corrected, still impressed with him memorizing your order.

He stared at you amusingly.

“And two shots of espresso.”

“There you go!” You playfully punched his shoulder. “Were you ever this good at memorizing things?”

“I don’t know, actually.” He scratched his head, his eyebrows scrunched together. “Maybe it’s just for you.” For you.

“Is my charm that strong?” You flashed him a smile as he examined your outfit: baby blue shoulder crop sweater with gray drawstrings and wide sleeves, laced beige cami top, midnight blue with golden patterns on the palazzo pants, and over-the-ankle leather flats.

“To attract people like me? Yeah.” He ruffled your hair as you stared at him in disbelief. Most of your voluminous hair, with the help of a hair clip, was tied into a bun, with a few deliberate curly strands that fell to your neck. Having pulled an all-nighter, you only lightly tapped some makeup to conceal any possible dark circles, as well as adding on lip gloss. Your silver earrings were dangling just below your neck, its shine reflected from the sunlight through the bus windows.

“Out-out-out,” You murmured as the bus screeched to another stop at the city’s park. “Come on, Yuki-san!” Your face was flushed as you fidgeted with your clothing, hopping off at the bus stop. He trailed behind you, admiring your figure as you skipped down the sidewalk of the park. His steps matched yours, soon quickening his pace to catch up to yours. His hand brushed against yours, before he grasped it gently.

You swiveled around, and gasped aloud, seeing Yukimiya Kenyu bring your hand locked with his hand near his lips, carefully planting a kiss on the back of your hand.

“Eh?” You put the back of your free hand near your face, trying to cover your tinted cheeks and surprised expression. “What—” So dignified.

“Oh look who’s here today!” A familiar energetic voice shouted as both you and Yukimiya Kenyu swiveled around, seeing the chin-length dark purple hair and his silly grin. “I didn’t realize you guys were all lovey-dovey, yeah? Are you guys dating?”

“No!” You shouted back and puffed out your cheeks, your face reddening. At the same time, Yukimiya Kenyu only shrugged and responded: “I wish.”

You twisted your body to face him with a startled look.

“Yep, it’s confirmed. They really are meant for each other,” Mikage Reo teased. “Isn’t that right, Yuki?”

“If Y/N-kun wants to.” Yukimiya Kenyu shrugged again, pointing at you. Switching the topic, he turned to you and added: “Do you want to go to the same cafe after lunch?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, uh—sure!” You, flustered, stammered to respond, before nodding along.

“Okay. So, Mr. Mikage, where to?”

“Drop the formalities already…” Reo groaned. “‘Reo’ will do.”

You giggled as Yukimiya Kenyu shooed him away. Yukimiya Kenyu then stared at you, at the sound of your laughs brightening his day.

“You do have the most interesting ways to get out of Reo’s grasp.” Yukimiya Kenyu chuckled as you didn’t dare meet his eyes, the heat rising up your face.

“Well… I mean…” You puffed out your cheeks as if a child pouted. “I… Just treat this like a date, then.” You two had escaped Reo’s pestering about your relationship with a simple response tumbling out of your mouth: We’re going on a date to the cafe. Without any other words, you rushed out of the restaurant after eating lunch and waited at the bus stop for Yukimiya Kenyu.

“Yeah, I will. I’m surprised they cleaned up the photoshoot equipment really quickly, though.” You two now sat at the seats near the window with a picturesque painting of the skyscrapers and cherry-tinted sky. The very place Yukimiya Kenyu had his photoshoot earlier this morning. Having slowly finished your drinks, you fiddled with the cup sleeve on the drink. The coffee aroma was an endless scent of tranquility, although paired with the constant clinking of coffee machines and mugs that clunked together in the sink… It was a chaotic pair, so to speak.

“We did come here, like, three hours later. And it’s nice talking to you, Yuki-san.” You gave him a grin, admiring his bright orange eyes that gently gazed upon you. “Oh, I do have a question—and I hope it’s not too uncomfortable.”

“I can probably guess what you’re going to ask.” He released a sigh, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. “I have optic neuropathy.” You widen your eyes, sitting up straighter.

“Oh… I’m… sorry.” You didn’t know what to say in such a suffocating, awkward moment. You did bring this up, after all. “Is… uh, that's why Reo said you used to play football, then?”

He nodded slowly.

“I didn’t want to, but it couldn’t be helped.” He forced a smile as you bit your lip.

“Oh. You can talk to me whenever you need to, okay?” You gently squeezed his arm on the table, reminding him he wouldn’t be alone to face these problems.

“At least I have you.” He ruffled your hair gently, his eyes slightly droopy. You leaned in and kissed him on the forehead, wrapping your arms around him. He jolted, his face reddening before he pushed you back and stood up. The slight curls of his dark hair covered his eyes, and you giggled at the sight. Such a beautiful, shy person…

“I did say to treat this like a date. So there’s a kiss, mm?” You grinned at him as he laughed—but still embarrassed, he seemed to want to get out of the cafe quickly. You suppressed another giggle before noticing his eyes full of surprise—again, seemingly wanting to ask you a question.

“Are you taken?” He coughed, before adding, “Relationship-wise.”

You grinned at him, dodging his question.

“How about you?”

“No. Although, a lot do think I’m eye-catching.” Yukimiya Kenyu winked at you as you giggled. Who wouldn’t think he isn’t?

“Hm…” You thought to yourself of how to phrase your response. “Well then, yeah.” Yukimiya Kenyu’s heart sank as he clenched his fist on the counter. You tapped his puffed out cheek gently, whispering: “Look at me, Yuki.”

Startled, he widened his eyes and stared at you, his eyes filled with desperation and sadness. He was going to accept that you were someone else’s already. He turned to look at the outside view, drumming his fingers lightly against the wooden counter of the cafe.

He held his breath when he listened to the five words tumbling out of your mouth, making his heart flutter and his gaze much more gentle as it reached your eyes.

“By you, my dear Seraph. ”

♤ unKing | Barou Shouei x gn!Reader

▽ featuring: barou shouei x gn reader … no repost on any platforms © laterosal 2024 … sooo bachira and his clown antics resulting in barou and you casually kissing—and hinted in a no-blue-lock!au where barou, bachira, nagi, and reader are in the same youth team (requested!) … word count: 969

… A/N: hii mike!! i hope you’re having a good day as well, i’m just surviving school as i gotta wake up early now. (very unfortunate) but i tried your first request—something did not click because it took me a week to get down a few hundred words… so i tried with the second request and maybe it did work? hope you enjoy this one :)

📌 AO3 | requested one-shot

Shoei Barou often thought his teammates in his youth team were chaotic, but not to the point where you would even have the thought of Barou, the “king” of the field, having chased down a small bee. A small bee, taunting Barou’s every move, realizing he was backed into a corner and had to feel the wrath of Barou.

You could practically feel that fury booming from a few meters away, as you leaned against the goal post, staring amusingly at these soccer players’ shenanigans. Surely it started with Seishiro Nagi, a somewhat unmotivated yet genius soccer player who decided to join a youth team out of boredom. His famed skill was trapping: hence, the Trap-Whatever-You-Can-Championship (Part 2) commenced amongst the highly skilled soccer players of their youth team. Held in the penalty box in the soccer field, Nagi started off with balancing his cellphone on his leg, moving on with a black-inked pen on his foot. Other soccer players attempted to do the same, though only a select few were even able to find the key concepts of trapping an item. One would include Shoei Barou—his effort of perseverance unwavering as some of his fellow teammates taunted him.

Bachira Meguru, who early on into soccer figured out their skill in dribbling, decided to take up a challenge and participate in Seishiro Nagi’s challenge of trapping items. You decided to try out this skill of trapping, although you long gave up and decided to hang around the goal post.

…

It did not go as well as planned.

Bachira, his bright highlights that flowed to the rhythm of his dribbling, seemed to not take trapping a skill so seriously. Rather, he attempted to balance a soccer ball on his ankle, then kicked it into the sky and chased after it. Only without noticing Barou behind him—the king of the field wiping the sweat dripping down his face as he squeezed some water out of his water bottle, who was conveniently hanging around you.

“Oops! I guess I should have known that trapping would kill me~” Bachira’s smile widened as Barou gave the former a death glare. Bachira looked up and attempted to follow the soccer ball, knocking Barou down. Like a pair of dominos, Bachira stumbled to the nearest patches of the grass near the goal post, and Barou tumbled into you, where his lips were pressed against yours.

Silence.

The soccer ball thumped against the grass, slowly rolling towards Bachira.

Bachira raised his eyebrows and scratched his head sheepishly, already scrambling away from Barou. They all did not want to mess with Barou himself—especially when his temper would blow away the feeble from the soccer field. You stared surprisingly at Barou as he slowly stood up, a pointed glare at all his teammates watching.

“S… orry?” You murmur as Barou narrowed his eyes at his teammates.

“Stop watching and get back to doing your—” Barou cracked his neck and knuckles, his voice a low and threatening one. Bachira whistled from across the world, teasing Barou to chase him. And like a small animal chase, the king of the field scrambled onto his feet and tailed the bee, easily dodging and swerving across the field. You grinned at the sight, touching your lips gingerly as you remembered the small kiss planted on your lips, leading to the king of the field with a murderous intent chasing…

“GET THE PHONE!”

“NO, HE’S GOING TO KILL US—”

“YOU DRIBBLING BEE, DON’T DIE TO HIM—”

The teammates were howling and screeching (in case Bachira gets jumped by Barou), while Seishiro Nagi stood on the sidelines, pulling out his phone to hop onto some video games.

“Oi, Y/N, want to help me out here?” Bachira yelled out as he ran towards you.

“Don’t. You. Dare. Y/N!” Barou screeched as he went for some other teammates who began to taunt him. You decided that if you wanted to see the golden light tomorrow, perhaps it was best to sit out today.

You didn’t want to get on Barou Shouei’s bad side, did you?

“I-hm, I won’t.” You promised Barou. “Bachira, how’s it going with Barou chasing you..?”

You didn’t even get a chance to hear Bachira’s response as he tumbled onto the field, as Barou violently shook his shoulders. He later stood up, clasped his hands together and brushed off some grass on his uniform, stalking towards you.

“You don’t need to be sorry, Y/N.” Barou lowered his voice as he put his hand on your shoulder, flinging off the towel slinging from his shoulders onto his head. You frowned as you wondered why he started off the sentence with those words. “That little busy bee… I swear… Next time he pulls any of those antics again…” Sorry..? Did you ever apologize to him—

“I’ll… help you.” You gave Barou an assuring smile. “Yeah?” Barou blew a heavy sigh out and hopped out of the field.

You soon realized that you had mumbled an apology after the kiss—

Oh.

“I’m surprised that the king even acts so uh, un-kingly in front of you.” Nagi shuffled over to you, leaning against the metal poles of the goal post. “Y’know, Y/N.”

“Uh-huh? I don’t really… understand.”

“Mm, sure. He doesn’t act so strict with you, unlike me.” Nagi groaned as Barou tugged on the back of his shirt, signaling to get up for practice. If Barou had heard Nagi’s words, the king brushed it off like they did not bother him at all. Nagi snorted, before a swift click on his cellphone screen—a VICTORY screen flashing on.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe Barou did act a little… less strict in front of you.

He seemed so much of an un-kingly soccer player in front of you who seemed to listen to you.

♤ Your Flower | Seishiro Nagi x Reader

▽ featuring: seishiro nagi x reader … no repost on any platforms © laterosal 2024 … what started off as an unfamiliar bouquet of flowers to love blossoming in the winter … word count: 1.9k

📌 AO3 | one-shot

His first visit to the flower shop startled the florist: “Give me the least annoying one,” then marveling over a pet cactus for company. Of course, you didn’t mind customers requesting a plant company with the description of the least annoying one—although you did think that walking into a flower shop full of delicate and bright flowers just for that request was odd.

You could remember his light hair and tall stature stepping into the flower shop, his eyes half lidded as if exhaustion had hit him early in the day. You could not forget his soothing voice, the way he mumbled his request as you blinked in confusion.

Early one morning, you walked into the flower shop and opened the blinds of the windows, basking in the sunlight for a second. You spun the closed blackboard sign to the opposite side, the bolded letters written in chalk of “We’re Open!” slightly smudged. As you stood near the counter, peering over in the buckets of flowers to see some wilted leaves. You frowned, before carefully getting to work to restore the beauty of the white roses.

Minutes passed as you finally finished your work of tending to the white flower, before moving to several other flowers around the shop that needed some care. Then, a quiet jingle from the door rang as a customer stepped into the flower shop. The ambrosial fragrance of the colorful flowers blasted towards the customer’s way, before you cheerily welcomed them in.

“Welcome! Is there anything I can help with?” Still preoccupied with your work, you carefully cut the flower’s stem.

“Is there a bouquet of flowers I can give to someone?” You swiveled around, familiar with the quiet voice. He wore a hoodie with the word “Mendokusai,” his hair disheveled.

“Oh—Welcome back! How’s your cactus?” you asked as you scurried over to the counter, flipping open your notebook to scribble the silver-haired boy’s request. Although you have had many customers over the last few weeks, you could never forget him. He stood out radiantly in your memory, like the beauty of pure innocence that blinded you. You stared into his gray eyes intently as they sparkled slightly.

“Choki? Fine, I guess.. At least Choki’s not a hassle to deal with…” he muttered to himself as you tried leaning forward to hear him.

“Huh? Choki? Okay.” You paused slightly, wondering if that was his cactus’ name. “What’s up for today?” You grinned at him, ready to write the customer’s request on your trusty notebook.

“Flowers for… someone.”

“Hm. Okay. What’s your relationship with them? Or is this a certain occasion for getting a bouquet of flowers? Or do you want a flower to keep you company? Although you may think it’s a hassle, I can assure you it’s definitely worth it. Or do you have a favorite flower yourself?”

“... favorite flower for someone… confess…” He murmured.

“Like my opinion for getting a flower to confess to someone?” You looked surprised at his question.

He shook his head, pointing at you as he lazily corrected: “My favorite flower is y— Your favorite flower to receive from someone if they confess to you.”

“Ooh. Uh. That’s difficult to say, really. I—”

“Make that a bouquet. Please.” He gazed at you gently as you nodded at his request. Those very eyes entranced you, as if a simple refusal would dim the light in his eyes.

“Consider it done, then. Give me a few minutes for preparation.” You hurried over to the buckets of flowers, staring at the white roses you had trimmed earlier. Slowly assembling the bouquet of flowers consisting of the light-colored daisies and white roses, you removed the leaves and trimmed the stems with sharp scissors all while wearing thick gloves. Although having accidentally cut your skin on your arm, you ignored the sting from the cut made from the scissors and carefully adjusted the shape of the bouquet of flowers, wrapping the beauty in wrapping paper and twine.

“Here it is!” You presented the bouquet to him with both hands as you printed a receipt for him after he pushed the paper money onto the counter. “Have a good day!”

He stared at the flowers and ran his fingers through the petal, before lifting his eyes toward you. Then noticing a cut on your arm, he put the bouquet of flowers down and instinctively reached for your arm.

“Cut.” He reached from his backpack a small bandage, peeling off the paper and covering the wounded area. You stared in amazement at how such a person—a stranger—could captivate you with his actions and his eyes.

“Oh. Thank you.” You gently pushed his hand away, smiling smally at him. Moments like these made your heart flutter, his gentle hands against your skin. He picked up the bouquet of flowers and cradled it, retreating to the outside with a lingering bell jingle from within the shop.

You leaned against the counter touching the bandage on your arm. The sparkle in his eyes and calming voice made you wonder whether he was this gentle towards others, or whether it was just to you.

Though you would have to admit that the pure white flowers were not your favorite, you wondered to yourself why the delicate blankness of the beauty was handpicked by you, given to this stranger.

Your favorite flower to receive from someone if they confess to you.

You had much preferred a lush bouquet of fresh red roses, the ones displayed by the window of the flower shop. Yet seeing his mesmerizing, gentle eyes and soft hair, he reminded you of a pure entity, hence these light-colored flowers.

The week after his visit and the following one, he would pop in and request for the same bouquet of flowers. Near the end of his visit, you would see him open his mouth, hesitate, before retreating to the exit. You did believe that whomever was receiving these bouquets of flowers was a lucky person, although feeling your heart throbbing as you realized that he was taken. He seemed impossible to reach, like an angel from faraway lands. Every second your mind wandered to him, you simply frowned, further slashing boundaries between your customer and you.

As his early morning stops at the beginning of every week became a routine, you often prepared the bouquets beforehand with extra care, perfecting the bouquet every time he slowly walked in, sliding the money on the counter, before reaching for the bouquet gently. One day, he never showed up.

And then the next.

And the next.

For multiple weeks, you kept the bouquet of fresh flowers by your side, before the week ended and the once bright flowers wilted.

Perhaps he had broken up with the person he bought flowers for. Perhaps something had happened to him.

You weren’t sure of the situation, although despite him never returning for the next few months, you continued to assemble the bouquet of daisies and white roses, hoping for him to return one day. For you to hope to see him, one last time, before he disappeared and never able to reach again.

Even in early autumn when the white roses bloomed best, he never returned. Week after week with no connection, you laid the flowers in front of you on the counter, having no desire to continue reassembling the bouquet of flowers, for foolish hope for him to return no more.

Winter rolled around, with heavy snowfall every morning you woke up. You hurried to work by foot, hoping that you were able to open on time. Although you were only a few minutes late while running in the snow, you found a familiar figure in front of the flower shop. His scarf covered his face as his ears were flushed from the cold, his hands in his hoodie with the word “Mendokusai” in small print. You paused, before moving towards him to speak.

“Oh-hey. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” You chuckled to yourself as you unlocked the door, turning on the lights to the flower shop. The lights flickered slightly, before brightly showering the flower shop with illuminating golden light. “Your usual?” You could barely breathe, seeing him near you, his aura slowly lulling you.

“Yes.” The boy, around your age, nodded slightly as he slipped his hands out of his pocket, thin gloves perfectly fitted on his hands. “Please.” You gazed at him, the words tumbling out of his mouth sounding desperate than ever.

You reached for the flowers in the buckets, memorizing the routine of assembling this bouquet for him. Then quickly wrapped around the bouquet was paper and twine, before you left it on the counter for him to pick up gently.

“May I ask why you haven’t stopped by for some time?” you carefully asked, stopping him by the door.

“... was hoping you asked.” he mumbled. “‘s nothing much. Soccer.” He shrugged, pulling his scarf loosely.

“I see. Have a good day, yeah?” you whispered to him as he turned to leave the flower shop, the ringing of the bell echoing in your mind. Leave, but please come back. He was the reason your heart ached, the reason you could barely breathe when he was around you. You longed to see him again, rather than leaving for a long time, not knowing what had happened to him. You did not just want him to leave your life as quick as he came into your life—

“... too.”

“Hm?”

He paused, before turning his head to face you.

“Have you been making these bouquets even after I didn’t return?”

His question took you by surprise, although you gave him a vague answer with: “Not really.”

“Sorry.”

You frowned and walked around the counter, closing the gap between you two.

“What are you apologizing for?” You tip-toed to attempt to look into his eyes at the same level, although his tall stature made it challenging.

“It took you a lot less time to make the bouquet. Like you knew exactly where the flowers were placed.” he whispered.

You froze—Was he always this observational?

“I—Yeah. I do.” you admitted to him, his gray eyes sparkling at you. “Who did you give those bouquets to?”

You waited for his response, bracing for a curt reply that would drive a knife into your heart. From the moment you had met him, he captured your attention and heart, even if he had someone else he loved.

“I never gave them to anyone.”

“What?”

“They were— They were meant… to be for you.”

You choked back a cry and hesitated to answer. He had kept the bouquets to himself, the very flowers you had handpicked that reminded you of him. The flowers that you had deemed to be the ones you wished to receive if one had ever confessed to you.

“Were you waiting for me this whole time?”

“Yes.” You buried your head into your hands as he reached his hand forward and caressed your hands gently.

“You waited for a long time, then.”

“I miss you.” Your muffled words were barely heard by the person whose name was never even revealed to you. “Even if I didn’t know you all that well.”

He gently grabbed your hands, placing the bouquet of flowers on yours, whispering his name in your ears, followed by words that made your heart race.

“My name is Seishiro Nagi. … Of all the flowers here I would pick, it would be you.”