Tumgik
#and listening to Lone Palm of course
Text
Okay but the irony of Jimmy Buffett dying on my birthday when I’m named after his daughter Savannah.
My mom was a hardcore fan of his in the 90s and early 00s so I grew up with his music - especially the deep cuts that not many know - and hearing the news of his death is actually pretty sad for me. The stories he told in his music were often very whimsical or emotional, and the sense of peace that came along with some of my favorites was always what I enjoyed the most. The world really lost an amazing song writer today.
Sail on, pirate! 🫡 I’ll be pouring a drink in his honor tonight for sure
7 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 2 months
Text
Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 1 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: After Bradley finally breaks things off with his girlfriend just days before the start of a deployment, he expects a few lonely months of nobody writing to him or waiting for his return. But the fateful arrival of a package from a class of fourth graders learning about aviation changes everything.
Warnings: Fluff, language, breakup angst
Length: 2200 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
Tumblr media
Bradley had his duffle bag open on his bed, tidy stacks of his uniform components, flight suits, and underwear lined up next to it. He had his checklist in front of him. He liked to be as organized as possible.
"Are you even listening to me? I thought we were going out to dinner."
He looked up from his partially packed toiletry bag into the annoyed eyes of Vanessa where she stood on the other side of the bed. He was seven months into this relationship, and sometimes he wondered why either of them still bothered. She knew his routine by now. She knew what his deployments were like, but she had absolutely no patience for any of it.
"Ness, I'm leaving in four days. I just need to focus on this for a few minutes so I know what I need to buy before Wednesday, and then we can go out and eat."
"It's already seven o'clock. I thought you'd have finished packing by now," she replied with a pout and a glare. "Every nice restaurant is going to have a long wait now, because I'm just going to go ahead and assume that you didn't make a reservation anywhere."
He took a deep breath and let it out before pressing his lips together. What he really wanted was to order something for delivery, cuddle on the couch, watch a movie and have the first round of hot, goodbye sex. But she'd never go for it now. Apparently he'd already fucked up for the night. 
"No, I didn't make a reservation," he said calmly, and she rolled her eyes and reached for her phone. "I really don't even feel like going out. I'll be gone for months, stuck in a tiny bunk or a loud mess hall. I'd like to stay in tonight where it's quiet. Just me and you."
But she wasn't listening at all. "Let me see if Woodmere has any tables left," she muttered. "If not there, then I can try The Landmark." She looked as beautiful as she always did, but he couldn't even stand the sight of her right now.
"Ness. I want to stay in."
She groaned and looked him in the eye. "Of course you do. You always want to stay in. You always want to decompress or read a book. That's not healthy, you know that, right? I shouldn't have to force you out of your comfort zone all the time."
"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. His job was demanding, both mentally and physically. He usually preferred quiet over loud, because his own thoughts started to buzz when she dragged him out all over the place. And now she was glaring at him again. "Are you even going to miss me?" he asked softly, afraid of the answer. "You haven't said so one time since I told you about this deployment."
She heaved a deep and annoyed sigh. "You're deployed so frequently, Bradley, it's like you're the government's bitch. And if the Navy is going to insist upon eating up taxpayer money, the least they could do is pay you more."
His skin started to crawl as she went off about his career like always, but he'd honestly had enough. He raised his voice louder and asked once again, "Are you even going to miss me?"
Vanessa scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Of course I'm going to miss you. What kind of question is that? I'll be bored every weekend, waiting for you to get back, like usual. I almost never go out when you're deployed."
Bradley's heart started to pound in a way that made his palms sweat and his stomach turn. "Jesus, Vanessa. I asked if you're going to miss me. Not miss going out every weekend."
When she hesitated for a beat, he reached out to brace his hand on his headboard. "Yes, Bradley. I am going to miss you. Okay? Happy?"
"Fuck, no. I'm not happy Vanessa." And that was the bottom line right there. The absolute truth. And it didn't hurt to say it, rather he immediately felt better. He knew he would miss the sporadic emails and the phone calls and the dirty pictures and the reunion sex. The upcoming weeks would be harder without those things to look forward to, but at least he'd come home to his own place where he could do what he wanted instead of what he was told. He wouldn't have to listen to her negativity. "I think we need to break up."
Her eyes went wide with shock. "Excuse me?"
Bradley let go of the bed and ran his hand over his face. "You heard me, Ness. This isn't working. For either of us."
"Don't call me Ness," she snapped, immediately turning toward his bedroom door. "You're not my boyfriend anymore." She paused briefly, just long enough to say, "Fuck you," and then she was gone. 
He sat on the edge of his bed for a couple minutes, but it didn't take long to sort through his feelings. The immediate sense of calm that he felt had him convinced he'd done the right thing. There was no shared living space. There was no ring. There was no real commitment. Maybe he'd always known why that was the case. 
So he packed up his bag and made a shopping list, and when his stomach started to growl, he ordered dinner for himself from his favorite restaurant. He didn't cry, and he didn't worry about having to do anything he didn't want to do.
------------------------
The first few weeks of his deployment were great. He spent a lot of time in the air, and he flirted a bit with some of the women who approached him in the gym on the aircraft carrier. He jerked off while he thought about whomever he fucking wanted to. He didn't spend very much time reflecting on his relationship with Vanessa other than to acknowledge that it wasn't much of a relationship at all. In the moments where he thought maybe he missed her, he realized he just missed the idea of having someone who cared about him.
He was about a month in when he realized the attractive woman who always touched his arm in the gym was actually married, and he was not all about that. He was also maybe kind of getting tired of masturbating which was a depressing thought. He was bored, and he was lonely, and other than randomly hooking up with someone, he figured his best bet was finding a book or something to read. 
When he made his way to dinner, he heard everyone talking about the helicopter that had landed on deck less than an hour ago stacked full of containers of mail. There was a line of officers trailing down the hallway adjacent to the mess hall, everyone waiting patiently to pick up parcels from their loved ones. Since Bradley had basically nobody who would think to write to him, he made his way toward the food instead. 
His tray was piled high with everything he could get his hands on, and when he looked for somewhere to sit, he had to deftly avoid that stacked lieutenant who had a husband at home. He found a table off in the corner and devoured his dinner alone. When he stood to drop off his empty dishes and tray, some petty officers entered the cavernous room to drop off unclaimed mail. 
"Harper, Jonathan! Pauley, Vincent! Dixon, Jennifer! Sutter, Wesley! Bradshaw, Bradley!"
He was more than a little intrigued as he made his way up along with a handful of others, and then a white envelope and a small cardboard box were thrust into his hands. The envelope was addressed to him by name in familiar chicken scratch that made him smile. He shouldn't have counted Natasha out, especially when his birthday was in a few days. 
He tore into the envelope as he made his way back to his bunk. It contained a very short letter along with a coupon for buy one get one free steak dinners at her favorite restaurant with a post-it stuck to the back. 
This is your birthday present. Now when you take me out for my birthday when you get home, you only have to pay half as much. You're welcome.
He snorted as he unlocked his bunk door and tossed everything from Nat onto the small nightstand. And then he examined the box. It wasn't addressed to him. Not really. It was addressed to 'A Deployed US Naval Aviator' in tidy handwriting. Then he noticed the return address was from an elementary school in Mira Mesa, and his curiosity got the best of him.
Bradley sat on the edge of his bed and tore gently into the packaging to find the box was jam packed with items and overflowing with envelopes. He tipped the box, and everything went cascading out onto his narrow bed. There were a lot of snacks, and a pack of trail mix caught his eye, making his stomach growl.
"I just fed you," he muttered but ripped into the snack anyway, dumping half of it into his mouth in one go. He was eyeing the envelopes carefully, each one distinctly unique. Some had names written on them, and some had little doodles or pictures, but they definitely seemed to be from a class of kids who went to the school. He sifted through them until he found a slightly larger, more official looking envelope which once again said To: A Deployed US Naval Aviator.
He finished his snack, silently thanking the class of kids and their teacher, and then he opened the big envelope. He pulled out a typed up letter which was folded around a few photos that slid onto his lap. Then he started to read.
Dear United States Naval Aviator,
First of all, thank you for your service. Second, let us introduce ourselves. We are one of the fourth grade classes from Mira Mesa Elementary School, and we have been learning all about aviation for the last month or so. We have combined our science, math and social studies classes into one unit all about flying, and we have learned so much. We really wanted to share some of what we learned with you in the hopes that you might be able to help us learn even more!
Each student in the class has included a letter filled with information and some questions. If you have some free time and are inclined to do so, we would love to hear back from you. (No pressure!) There are plenty of thoughtful questions that my students would appreciate more information about. (Once again, only if you want to!) And I for one would love to give them the chance to show off what they learned to a professional. (I'm just a proud teacher!)
Thank you very much for indulging our curiosity thus far, and we hope to hear back from you. I'll include my email address just in case you have any questions or would prefer to reply that way. Otherwise you can send mail directly to the address for the school along with my name, and it will get to us. We hope we are about to dazzle you with our letters, and we wish you well on your deployment.
Sincerely,
The best fourth graders you will ever meet along with their teacher
Bradley was chuckling as he finished reading. Of course he would take the time to look at all of the notes from the kids and send back a response. It wasn't like he'd be tied up talking to Vanessa. This little project would keep him busy when he had nothing else to do, and besides, this was the kind of shit he would have thought was outlandishly cool when he was a fourth grader himself. 
He read and reread the name and accompanying email address at the bottom of the page. This teacher sounded charming, and he'd only read three paragraphs from her. He flipped the page over to double check that she hadn't written anything more, already wishing she had. Then he picked up the photos that had landed on his thigh and started to flip through them.
First he saw a group of kids outside in the bright San Diego sunlight, lined up and throwing paper airplanes. Then he flipped to one where some of the kids were sitting at their desks building more elaborate planes out of pieces of foam. There was another photo of the class on some sort of field trip, but it was the last photo in the stack that had him sitting up a little taller and taking a closer look.
"Damn."
The kids were all lined up once again, wearing a rainbow of colors, some making silly faces. But his eyes caught on their teacher. On you. Smiling back at him from the photo like you had an amusing secret. Like you wanted to share it with him.
"Fucking gorgeous."
----------------------
And, we're off. Oh, he thinks we are cute. Oh, he is about to be charmed even more. Thanks for pushing me out of my comfort zone a little bit with this one, and thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 2
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@chassy21
@solacestyles
@daisyhollyxox
@wintercap89
@blog-name6996
@bcon24
@chaoticassidy
@avada-kedavra-bitch-187
@katiebby04
@marantha
@averyhotchner
@abaker74
@heli991113
@k-k0129
@noz4a2
@shanimallina87
@little-wiseone
@ccbb2222
@xoxabs88xox
@thedroneranger
@cherrycola27
@fanboyswhore9
@xomrsalliej4787xo
@desert-fern
@sylviebell
@wkndwlff
@horseslovers2016
@gennyanydots
@mattyskies
@hookslove1592
@blahehblah
@sadpetalsstuff
@local-spidey
@schoollover
@lex-winchester
@magicalmorg
@nicole01-23
@jessicab1991
@happyrebelruins
@samsgoddess
@ughthisisntright
@bellaireland1981
@sagittarius-flowerchild
@mygyn
@yuckosworld
1K notes · View notes
spitgobbler · 9 months
Text
BunnyOwner!Leon <3
just a bunch of blurbs and thoughts I’ve had about Leon owning a bunny hybrid hehe also my first work on here :)
pairing: fem reader x leon kennedy
tags: bunny hybrid, heat, oral sex, p in v, praise, mention of belly bulge, creampie, breeding
Tumblr media
Owner!Leon who’s seen so much shit and decides to go down to the centre and adopt a hybrid companion so he isn’t as lonely. looking at all the cute hybrids from puppies to cats but then he stops at one particular kennel.
Owner!Leon who can’t stop looking at your long floppy bunny ears that he’s already wanting to touch with his warm calloused hands, and your pretty little cotton tail that twitches once you notice him.
Owner!Leon who approaches carefully, being mindful of your bunny nature as he gets to know you a bit more. as soon as you permit him to pet your fluffy ears he thinks to himself how petting and playing with them would be a perfect way to wind down after a long day of work.
Owner!Leon who signs the adoption papers after getting to know your sweet and gentle nature over the course of the week, it’s just what he needed in his cold and dark line of work.
and he enjoys coming home to a no longer empty house, you laying across his lap while he pets your floppy ears and unwinds with you. feeding you strawberries as a snack before a proper dinner while he listens to you chat about your day and what you did while he was gone.
Owner!Leon who glances at your lips and the way you lick the sweet red juice from the strawberries off of them, he feels the urge to kiss them. but he doesn’t. he’s your owner and he shouldn’t do that sort of thing with his precious lil bunny girl.
Owner!Leon who feel conflicted when he comes home one day and his bunny is in heat, humping her pillow desperately as she whimpers for desperate release. his cock stirring in his trousers as he tries to remember what the centre advised him to do when this happens but it’s hard to think with the way his eyes watch your fluffy bun ears flop with each hump of your hips. he just wants to tug them, just a little.
“bun, are you okay?” leon asks, sliding his boots off and moving to your side. “you look- let me call the centre and ask them how to help.”
you whine for him, “o-owner, no. my heat, need you.”
Owner!Leon who swallows thickly at the way your needy voice expresses your desire for him while you rub your messy cunt against your pillow. his dick hardening in his trousers as he wants to help but a part of him is hesitant. you were his slice of paradise, would doing this change things?
“baby, i think the center gave you some toys for your heat, let me go find them.” he murmurs before caressing your floppy ears. “i shouldn’t.”
“no! need owner to breed me,” you plead, eyes glazed over with need.
Owner!Leon who groans at your words, your pretty voice and words tying a knot of arousal in his abdomen. he can’t help but pick you up in his strong arms and laying you down onto his bed.
Owner!Leon who spreads your smooth thighs out for him, his tongue lapping at your weeping cunt and teasing your folds with a hum. your pretty pussy so sweet for him that he palms himself for even a sliver of relief.
Owner!Leon who lets you take what you want, what you need. letting you grip his locks and grind against his face, his nose nudging against your clit, making you sing so lewdly for him.
“that’s it, pretty girl.” he murmurs, his tongue guiding you through your orgasm while he holds your hips down. “so good for me, bunny.”
“m’coming! o-oh!” you moan and try bucking against his face as your eyes roll, gushing all over your generous owner’s face as he drinks it up with a low moan of his own. “thank you, thank you owner,”
he presses kisses to your folds before pulling away and caging your form underneath his, capturing your lips that he’s been dying for in a hot, heavy kiss. you moan as you taste yourself on him, gripping his strong shoulders as you soak in all the love and pleasure your owner is giving you.
Owner!Leon who listens to your pleas for more, teasing your messy slit with the tip of his fat cock before sliding in with a heavy groan from the squeeze. his brows furrowing from the pleasurable fit before thrusting his hips into you slowly before picking up to a toe curling pace.
“feels good owner,” you mewl out, writhing underneath him. “so deep, s’good.”
he caressed your face with one of his hands as he pumped into you over and over. “uh huh, anything for my pretty bunny, mm, fuck.”
Owner!Leon who flips you over and fucks you so good into the mattress. his hands tugging your floppy bunny ears as he thrusts harder and deeper into your needy little cunt from behind, making you clench the sheets and moan. groaning at the tight grip of your sloppy bunny pussy, his hands occasionally moving from your ears to your round lil cotton tail and teasing the base.
Owner!Leon who might as well also be a bunny hybrid with the way he spills his milky cum so many times into you till it’s giving you the cutest little bulge in your tummy. breeding you over and over, he rocks his fat tip into your sweet spot till your heat is over and you’re both spent. no matter how tired he was, he would be a bad owner if he didn’t help his precious bunny through her heat, wouldn’t he?
5K notes · View notes
tasteleeknow · 5 months
Text
MINORS DNI. sucking on his fingers. minho's pov.
Sweet. That's how he'd describe you. His sweet girl. Even as you kneel on the floor with his fingers in your hot little mouth. Even as your eyes water from taking them a little too deep. Even as your lips glisten with spit.
He settles a little more into the couch cushions as you look up at him from your position between his knees. It's easier to spread a little more like this, adjust himself as his cock throbs in his sweats.
Then your fingers wrap around his wrist lightly, a comforting hold more than anything else. He was the one in control, pressing his fingers between your lips almost rhythmically as he prepares you to take him properly. He finds himself in a trance at a few points, fixated on the little facial expressions you make — on the way your eyes close and your nose scrunches when you're a little too eager.
And then there's your mouth. Warm, plush lips and hot little tongue getting his fingers all messy. It's the messiness he likes. His sweet girl all messy just for him.
A small sound slips from your throat, the kind of sound that makes him want to fall forward and press you into the floor. Fuck you into it. It's so fucking sweet.
"Alright?"
You blink at him, lashes fluttering. Then you nod, moist lips still wrapped around his fingers — unwilling to give them up.
Time slows in moments like these. He knows it's a memory forming; it's something he'll think about on night's you're gone, in lonely showers with the same fingers wrapped around his leaking cock.
He'll think about this. He'll remember how warm you are, how fucking warm and wet and sweet. He'll remember the little whines and whimpers as you wordlessly reassure him you love this almost as much as he does.
Then your bottom lip relaxes and your mouth is dropping open, tongue lolling out a little — the tips of his fingers resting on your slippery tongue.
"Fuck," he breathes, dragging his fingers down slowly over your bottom lip in awe.
Then he's hooking his finger under your chin and lifting your head a little more, forcing your mouth closed. You look at him in a way that stirs something heavy in his chest, like you're simply waiting for what he will do next. Trust. Love. He can't pinpoint it exactly, but it has him pressing the palm of his hand into his crotch — desperate not to spill into his pants.
It's a mistake. The moment he draws back from you — dropping his head back against the couch — you're crawling up onto his lap. He grips your hips before your get too close; before you put any pressure on his twitching cock.
"Wait," he gasps, eyes clenched tight.
You listen. Of course you do. His sweet fucking girl. He presses his wet fingers into your bare skin as he catches his breath, blindly finding the precious little sliver between your top and your underwear.
"Okay," he says eventually, blinking his eyes open as you fall over him — warm lips pressing to his neck before he can even lift his head. He savours it for a moment, the feeling of your body pressing him into the soft cushions — the wetness your lips leave on his skin.
Then he tangles his fingers in your hair and guides you away from his neck gently. He can see the mess you've made much better this close. Your lips are swollen, almost puffy. He's fucking incapable of preventing his mind from spiralling directly to how puffy your cunt looks when he's spent enough time with your legs around his head.
"You're so good," he murmurers before he's even aware of the thought crossing his mind. It's an involuntary slip of the tongue, his subconscious breaking free while he's distracted.
But then your head drops. Shy.
He tugs you forward, lifting your head and mashing his lips to yours. He's not good at words. Not when he's feeling this much. Never in the moments that fucking matter. He'd spent too long wishing it was different. Now he knows the best he can do to compensate is this: he shows you.
2K notes · View notes
foone · 2 years
Text
Idea: interspecies TF but it doesn't go like a werewolf movie, over in seconds or minutes, but like HRT.
Every morning you look in the mirror, pulling your mouth open to get a better look at your canines. Is it just you or are they a little bigger?
You turn your head sideways, seeing how much your face is stretching into a snout. You occasionally catch yourself looking at your hands, seeing how the skin on your palm is hardening into pawpads, how the tips of your fingers are stretching, your nails coalescing into claw tips.
You spend a while looking online at r/TFtimelines/, looking at other furries with a mix of envy and lust. God, you hope someday you can look a tenth as monstrous as them. You look up doctors in your area to see their ratings for bottom surgery (which is getting a tail), and wonder if your insurance will cover it.
It's not all physical changes, of course. You're noticing how your emotional state is shifting. You're staring at spreadsheets at work, in need of another coffee, and you have that thought again of just running into the woods. Your clothes seem tight and restrictive on you, and you know it had nothing to do with the fact you've gained 5 inches in height over the last year. It's more to do with feeling you shouldn't need to wear this business formal nonsense, you should be covered in fur and hanging out in the lonely woods, not in a crowded office moving numbers around for your boss.
Ugh, your fucking boss. It's getting harder to not listen to him talk without inadvertently thinking about what it'd feel like to rip his throat open with your teeth, and leave him as a warning for the others not to mess with the wolf...
Not that you'd ever do such a thing, of course... But those pills you're taking every morning have been waking up millions of years of instinct that are saying "this supposed leader is weak and ineffectual and doesn't deserve your loyalty. Kill him. Take his place, or his poor leadership will get you all killed when the winter comes."
You sigh, and keep typing on the keyboard. One day you'll come out to these anthrotypicals. You'll be recognized for the mighty wolf you are, and they'll stop treating you as just another human.
You make a note to email HR about that "I'm a human" CAPTCHA they put on the company's website. They don't know, of course, but they should be more considerate. Not everyone wearing a pantsuit and operating a boring Dell computer is a human, after all.
You glance at the clock and think about getting dinner once this slog is over. You'd been a vegetarian before starting your transition, but there's a new steakhouse that's opened up on your walk home, and every time you walk past it, you keep thinking about biting into a nice steak... Rare, of course. It's probably just the smell. You can smell so much better now, and from what you've heard from others, it's only going to get better.
Well, better is relative. You've learned the downside of having a better sense of smell. It's sometimes unbearable walking to work on Wednesday, when everyone has their bins out. So much rotting food and spoiled milk and bacteria festering in all those cans waiting for the trash trucks.
It gets better once you're in the office. The AC kills a lot of the smell. But now you can tell exactly how many days it has been since your coworkers have showered, and you'll never look at Simon from accounting the same way again.
And it was a bit of a faux pas (or should that be a faux paw, ha!) when you congratulated Cindy on the baby she was expecting... She hadn't told you yet. She hadn't told anyone yet, other than her spouse, but you forgot that it wasn't as obvious to everyone else.
You don't know how that can be overlooked (oversmelled?). The hormones are all different. Was there really a time in your life when you couldn't smell this? Huh. You can't remember anymore. This is your new normal. You've come farther than you think. You should have taken more pictures at the start, so you could compare them to now, but it was so hard to look at yourself then. You looked so... Human. Ugh.
It's getting easier to look at yourself in the mirror in the morning. Your fur is coming in. Your body is changing in so many ways. You're finally starting to look like you.
5K notes · View notes
rosedom · 3 months
Note
hi there! I'm here because I wanted to share with you an idea I had in mind.
wanderer x guitarist boyfriend reader where he finds the reader's hands attractive and started to masturbate in his room imagining the reader's fingers inside him and reader catches him masturbating in his room once he got back to his place after a band performance.
I hope this is okay with you, I'm sorry if it's not though. I love your works btw! also can I be 🥯 anon?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"in an open match, 【 🥯 】 has invited WANDERER to play . . . a well-strummed man
Tumblr media
✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!male!reader, sub!ftm!wanderer, hand kink, fantasizing turned to masturbating, getting caught (by you), vaginal fingering, lots of love & praise .
A/N : i've been thinking about this scenario these past weeks, oh my goodness . . . (⁠♡⁠ω⁠♡⁠ ⁠)⁠ ⁠~⁠♪
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
Tumblr media
Kunikuzushi is a dead, dead man.
Listen. It's not like it’s his fault you’re a guitarist, much-less the lead of a band; and it most certainly does not fall to his blame that he’s been lonely, alright?
You’ve been out all weekend, and it’s already Sunday night. He—he won't admit he misses you, but it’s a close thing.
“I’ll be back Monday, baby,” you’d said, last Friday. You’d held him in your broad arms, your large palms a searing brand to his hips as he grunted at you for spinning him.
He had shoo’d you away, said, “Okay, okay!” and pushed you out the door with your guitar and damning crooked grin.
You had pouted, too, standing in the doorway like some kicked kitten, and Kuni couldn’t deny such pitiful look on your handsome face. “C’mere,” he’d grumbled, reeled you in and kissed you soundly on your lips. “Goodluck, yeah?”
“Yeah.” You’d kept your faces together for a few moments, breathing in him, before you ultimately straightened up. “I love you.”
With a scoff, another shove and a soft, “Goodbye—,” one you gave him back, your own adoring farewell—he had murmured, “I love you, too.”
(He hasn't seen the smile on your face for you turned the other way. It made your heart skip a beat, made you hold tighter to the purple straps of your guitar as you went to the curb your bandmates had been waiting for you on.
Kuni had seen, however, the grip of your fingers across the leather; he had seen it well. So well.)
Kuni groans. Your hands. He can't get your hands off his mind: your hands tightening around your guitar strap, your hands holding tight to his waist, your hands covering the expanse of his pale skin, your hands dipping down, your hands stroking his cock and nudging into his cunt and and—
he’s a goner. Not only dead, but gone: utterly, entirely, wholly for you.
Your hands are just so—enticing. That's it, that's all. They're nice to look at.
. . . and nice to imagine knuckle-deep in his cunt. Of course, they’re nice to feel actively thrusting in him, rubbing across his chubby cock and smearing the mess of slick and lube across his hole; but you're not here right now, and he's left with only a whisper of you in his imagination, and a video of you playing live.
He couldn't attend your show, thanks to a paper he had to submit by Saturday night. But tonight's Sunday, and the paper's squared away and submitted and done, and he's lonely, right now, replaying your recording, eyes watching the both steady and jerking movements in turn of your fingers across the guitar strings.
His cock throbs. “Shit.”
With another groan—albeit far weaker, without any gusto behind it—, Kunikuzushi lets his phone fall to the side and sinks full-bodied into the bed. The plush blankets wrap around him, swaddling him in a semblance of you, you, you. They carry your subtle scent in them, a mixture of your soap and his own embedded into the fabric in a heady mix that Kuni greedily drinks in, pressing a corner of it to his mouth and nose as his other hand teases down his body.
A tweak—gentle, mimicking your own soft touch—to his nipples through the thin fabric of his shirt makes him lowly gasp. It’s not as satisfying, with his own touch, but the sensation still makes small zaps of pleasure zing up and down his spine, ending with a heavy pulse at his cock and sending his cunt dribbling.
Pulling off his briefs is an easy thing, if not made a bit messy by the string of slick that connects to and snaps from the seat of the fabric. It’d be embarrassing if you were here to see it, feel it, taste it; but you're not here right now.
He's sorely reminded, again and again: he's alone, for now.
(He misses the embarrassment under you, already, misses the way your touch is always so gentle against him, teasing him and bringing him to release again and again with those damning hands.)
He plays across his opening, now bare, with his fingers, just like you'd do. The wetness clings to his fingertips, and he mourns the loss of the calluses on your hands; his own are soft n’ smooth, providing little friction against the parts that need it most.
“Please,” he whispers to himself, to the air, to absolutely no-one.
He wants you here, so, so bad; but the next best thing is the slide of two fingers, right off the bat, right into the third knuckle. It’s slow going, but it's smooth, and he sharply exhales at the barely-there stretch.
It’s quiet save for the squelch of his fingers, the in-n’-out thrust
When his mind starts playing your voice, the devilish thing, he's a goner twice-over. “Takin’ my fingers so well, baby,” you’d say, he imagines you saying. He mewls at the thought, bending his fingers sharply in the way he knows you would. Though they don’t come into contact with his g-spot how yours would, not at first, the press against his sensitive walls makes him bite his lip still.
Sometimes, Kuni wonders if you know his body better than he does. (You do.)
He thinks, then, of the other things you'd say to him, pressed up close and deep in him. Maybe you would tell him, “So needy,” with a lilt to your voice that reveals you're really not mad at all. “All wet n’ dripping for me, aren't'cha? Aren’t I so lucky to have such a pretty boy under me?”
Maybe you'd lean down and lick at his cock while you spread him open. The thought makes him whine all loud-like, working a third finger in beside the other two, whimpering quietly after the shame of his initial whine.
“Turn over for me, babe,” the you in his head sweetly commands. He swears he can feel your phantom touch on his hips, murmuring, “There you go,” guiding him to roll onto his belly. The shirt he’s kept on bunches up, allowing a whisper of the cold bedroom air to brush his nipples. “My obedient, good boy.”
He feels safer like this, pumping his fingers into his cunt the best he can with the new position. The angle no longer allows his fingers to curl into his g-spot, but it mimics how you handle him: a worthy trade-off, he thinks. He imagines you on his back, stretching him on your fingers as you drape yourself across him, licking n’ kissing at his neck and blushing ears.
“Opening up so good f'r me,” you'd say; Kuni whimpers, biting the pillow—your pillow, saturated in the subtle scent of your shampoo—to muffle himself. He’s safe, like this.
This is as close as he can get to having you, right now—
until it's not.
“Oh,” you breathe. “Kuni, sweetheart.”
Fuck. Fuck.
“You—I—” Kuni wrings himself upright, coming right up to your face, inches away from his own. He growls at you, but it falls short—how could it, when he’s red-faced and pushes at your chest with his slickened hand? “When did you get home?”
“Just now,” you murmur, grabbing his hand and bringing it up to your lips for a kiss, for a taste of him. Then, “Have you cum?”
He rips his hand back. “You can't just—”
“So you haven't,” you say, grinning. Silently, he sputters, but then you're leaning in and kissing him soundly and pressing him down into your bed and—
“Gonna let me make you feel good, baby?” you ask. Your grin turns devilish when you dip your fingertips into him, just so, the callouses on your two fingers already resting so perfectly against his opening.
Your roughed-up thumb presses into his jutting cock, right as he whines, “Yes,” his whole attitude turned on a dime. Sweet, sweet Kunikuzushi.
“You're so wet,” you murmur, entirely awed at the slick glide of your fingers, able to slide a third in oh-so easily. While he had three of his own stuffed up to his third knuckle, your fingers are broader, wider—the knobs of each knuckle is prominent still, nudging each sweet spot in his cunt easy as anything. “God, pretty boy, what were you thinkin’ about to make you this messy?”
Kuni whines again, the sound airy and high, pleading n’ begging.
“Heard you keep saying my name,” you continue, curling your fingers and forcing the bumps at your fingertips against his g-spot in a way his own hands failed to. Asking, “What about me, hm?” makes him tremble, and you think his brain is too pleasure-mushed to process it.
But then he’s reaching for the hand you've got snug on his hip, and he murmurs, “Your hands.”
“My hands?” He nods, closing his eyes tight. You kiss the flutter of eyelashes. “What about them?”
“They're so—” a moan cuts up his words, your thumb working tight against him.
“They're so...?”
He groans. “They're so—so big, ‘nd they're always so warm, so hot in me, s-stretch me so—so good.”
“Yeah?” You pull apart your fingers at his words—only slightly, enough to feel the slight resistance of his cunt. “Like it when I open you up all nice n’ pretty for me?”
“Yes, yes, I l-love it.” Kuni’s so unabashed, now, so close to his orgasm. The clench of his cunt is uncontrolled, pulsing against your fingers and urging you to rub his chubby cock faster, harder, stretching him out and making his mind melt from his pretty, perfect lil’ pussy.
As his back unconsciously arches, his thighs jerking with the spasms of his muscle, he begins to plead you to let him cum. Soft begs fall from his lips as he clutches right at your free hand, both of his smaller ones holding yours tight when you lean down and kiss him, soft n’ sound right against his swollen lips.
You can't even finish your sentence, a gentle, “Cum for me, sweetheart,” before Kuni’s creaming around your fingers, the thick cum left dribbling in your palm and being smeared into his twitching cock.
By the time he’s dropped your hand to grab at your other wrist, he's left a whimperin’, whinin’ mess. You lie next to him and roll his body on top of yours, holding him close around his middle and letting him nuzzle into your throat.
His breathing eventually steadies, matching the gentle rhythm of your chest against his. “Thank you,” he mutters.
“For what?”
He sighs. “Makin’ me cum.” The tone of his voice makes you chuckle, and he raises an eyebrow at you. “What?”
“Nuthin',” you say, laughing. You kiss his forehead in apology, and you continue with, “I should be thanking you, anyway, for surprising me with something like that.”
“Shut up, you perv.”
You’re appalled! “Says the guy fingering himself on our—”
Kuni growls, jumping up and covering your mouth with his hands. “Shut up!” But those pretty indigo eyes soften, crinkling at the edges, and he leans down to kiss your forehead in turn.
“Missed you,” he says, a whisper against your skin—one you return to his sternum, pressing a kiss and your love so close to his heart.
Maybe, if this is death, like this, Kuni wouldn't quite mind being a dead man.
Tumblr media
kuni's so real for this: hands r UNREASONABLY attractive. i hope this somewhat like u imagined, sweet anon 🦭🦭
6 MAR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
751 notes · View notes
astraariel · 9 months
Text
eternal snow
pairing: sanji x fem!reader
summary: your love for sanji was unconditional, unfortunately, he didn’t feel the same seeing as there were petals coming out of your mouth.
word count: 3.6K
warnings: spoilers (?) just the name of a character from the whole cake island arc, it’s a modern!au so I don't mention anything about the actual arc!
tags: loosely based on “eternal snow” from fullmoon wo sagashite; angst; hanahaki disease; implied cheating; modern!au; hurt no comfort; lovesick; requited unrequited love
author's note: I think along with everyone opla is taking over my life so it encouraged me to finish this fic I started months ago lol. once again I like angst and this is soooo ooc of sanji he would never cheat I love him so much I’m sorry. on another note, I really like AmaLee’s cover of this song so you can give it a listen if you want to feel the vibe. 
also, ignore the fact that Pudding is sixteen, she’s older than that in this. I couldn’t really think of anyone else to have/didn't want to think of a different character. just know, she’s of age. other than that, ignore grammar mistakes and enjoy♡
──★ ˙ ̟read pt2 here!
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
You weren’t entirely sure how you had gotten to this point. You were certain that you two would be together forever. How you had unknowingly lost the one you love so dearly, you would never know.
Sanji was a flirt and you loved it, he could simply say that you looked beautiful today and you’d melt. Hell, that’s how you too met, Nami had introduced you two and Sanji wooed his way into your heart. You knew that he had you in the palm of his hand, but you weren’t sure you could say the same for him.
Sanji was an attentive lover. When he loved, he showered you with his attention. You could always tell that his presence was there whenever you spoke. He’d care and cater to every request you asked of him, not allowing you to lift a single finger. It’s who he was.
You were blinded by your love for Sanji that you never noticed him slipping away from your grasp.
The two of you were currently sitting together on your living room couch. Sanji mentioned there was a new show he wanted to watch, so here the two of you were. Your attention was focused on the TV in front of you while his was on his phone.
You glance at him, “Who’s that?” 
He hadn’t looked away from it for more than 30 seconds throughout the last episode. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he looks at you. 
“Oh, it's the new dessert chef at the restaurant,” he shuts his phone off, “I've been assigned to help her around and show her the ropes,” he smiles, “It’s nothing, you want popcorn?” 
You turn to him, “Of course I do.” He gets up to walk to your kitchen, “Hey, I love you.”
He walks up behind you and bends down, kissing your head, “And I love you more.” He stands up and you hear him rummaging through the pantry for a popcorn packet. 
You cough slightly, “Could you grab me some water, Sanji?” He shouts back a response but you don’t make it out because you’re too busy pulling a petal out of your mouth.
♡‧₊˚
After that lone petal had made its introduction, it planted itself as a constant. Every so often for the following weeks, you’d feel something weird in your mouth, only to pull out a single flower petal.
You weren’t sure what was going on, but you couldn’t bring yourself to think too much about it. On top of the weird cough you were having, Sanji was also acting off. 
It was small at first, just tiny, little white lies that he’d tell you. 
Like when he’d say he was tired, that he was going to bed, but you could hear him on his phone laughing at something from the room. Or when he claimed that his phone had died and that’s why he hadn’t texted you back even though you were hanging with Nami at the time and he had replied to a video she had sent him a minute after you texted him. 
That was just the first few weeks.
You weren’t sure when the white lies became real lies but it had only spiraled more. You had found that he wasn’t even bothering with lying anymore, simply stating that he was too busy to come over or that he didn’t even want to hang out with you that day.
Sanji would claim to be too tired and not bother to see you for an entire week, but then he’d call you complaining that he missed you and question why the two of you hadn’t gone on a date recently and then insist that he was going to cook dinner for the two of you. Those times were always the best. It made you feel like nothing was wrong. 
It was pure whiplash. 
You were never sure which Sanji you were gonna get that day. Maybe it’d be the Sanji that you loved or this new person who had taken over and wouldn’t even text you back for days on end. 
Recently, he was your loving, doting boyfriend. Which caused you to completely forget about the flower petals you were currently collecting from your mouth when you were being distracted by Sanji’s full attention. 
You were lying on Sanji’s chest recounting your day to him when suddenly the sound of his phone pinging cut you off. 
A quiet chuckle made you peek up at Sanji, his eyes were looking at his phone intently, whatever was on his screen, clearly captivated him more than what was coming out of your mouth.
You sit up, his blatant disinterest in your day annoying you. 
“Did I do something wrong?” Your voice cuts through the room.
He looked up at your now sitting form, it looked like he was just acknowledging your presence.
He lets out a noise of confusion, “What?”
“Are you angry at me? Did I say or do something that pissed you off? Because, please, just tell me, I can't take it anymore.” you pleaded.
You notice Sanji’s body tensing, his brow scrunching in even more confusion. He laughs awkwardly, “Baby, what are you talking about? I’m not angry.” he looks away, “I love you, you know that right?”
And suddenly, you weren’t angry anymore. 
You smiled, “I love you too.”
He glances at his phone again.
But you don’t care, because he loves you. 
Satisfied with his response, you settle back down but are interrupted when you begin to cough. Quickly, you stand up to fetch your handkerchief from your pocket, wiping your mouth swiftly. 
You look back at Sanji, “I’m gonna-” but before you can finish, you feel the familiar flowers clawing their way up your throat. You walk out of the room coughing. 
Sanji doesn’t look up from his phone.
♡‧₊˚
He was late.
Again. 
You were exhausted. The constant lies that you fooled yourself into believing for the sake of your heart were beginning to wear on you. 
The old hoodie you were wearing enveloped you in an attempt to provide yourself some level of comfort that no one could really give you anymore. 
It’s late, around midnight, last you checked. The spaghetti dinner left on the table you had cooked had long gone cold. The Baratie had closed hours ago and Sanji still wasn’t home. 
You sit in complete darkness, the TV is currently rattling off an old rerun of some show you didn’t watch. You’re too tired to get up and find the remote to change the channel so you settle on watching the old comedic sitcom. You’re holding your trusty handkerchief that’s become your best friend in the past months; ready to close around your mouth in an attempt to catch the petals of flowers that’d come up your throat every so often. 
Your eyes glaze over the screen when you hear the door creak open. Footsteps were heard as a soft clatter sounded throughout the room from Sanji setting his keys down on the counter. 
You sit up slowly, in an effort to prohibit any intense coughing. 
Your eyes meet Sanji’s surprised ones, “You’re still awake? It’s late, you should go to bed.” he looks away. 
“You missed dinner.” You look over at Sanji’s form, he’s stiff, you note.
“I stayed late to help close, sorry we can reschedule.” He brushes you off swiftly.
“Was she there?” The argument had already begun, why not fuel it some more?
Sanji whips his head at you, an incredulous look gracing his features. “Who are you talking about?” Acting dumb was never a good look on him. 
Your tired eyes stare at him, “I know you’re spending time with her.” The venom in your tone was palpable.
You were over the lies. You were over the constant tiptoeing between each other, you’re honestly surprised he still even decided to come over. It would have been better for him to stay at his place and just call you in the morning to tell his lie. 
He has balls, you’ll give him that.
“Do you even love me anymore?”  
The silence that surrounded the room was upsetting. Of course, he didn’t, who were you fooling? You had all the proof you needed in all of the trashcans around your house, discarded tissues soaked in blood, and petals filled the bins.
Sanji scoffs, “I don’t know what you want from me.” He doesn't answer the question, “Why are you asking if I love you, you're being needy.” He stares at you before continuing, “If you don’t trust me,” he looks away, “Then maybe we should break up.” With a tone of finality, he turns around and walks toward the door, the sound of it shutting echoing throughout the house.
You’re left alone in the silence, the ticking of the clock on the wall muffling your coughs that were accompanied by flowers and blood. 
♡‧₊˚
With the new development of the blooms coming out of your throat, you felt defeated. You’re not sure what you did in a past life to deserve this. You didn’t wish this on anyone, it was a lonely and awful feeling, physically and emotionally. 
You’ve gotten used to your condition. It had been a month since you’d seen Sanji after he had broken things off and in that month, you would constantly find yourself leaning over the toilet bowl, hacking up blood and flower blooms. 
You finally had the courage to look up what you assumed was hanahaki disease. It was a rare condition, but you were certain that was what was causing you pain. The only cure was to have surgery that resulted in the patient forgetting about whomever they had loved. That you’d act as if nothing had happened, that you’d live in ignorance bliss afterward. 
Sacrificing your heart for your life. 
After that month, you had decided to go to a coffee shop forcing yourself to get out of the house and do something. 
So you went to Sanji’s favorite coffee shop. 
Why you had put yourself through that? You weren't sure.
You remember wrapping your hand around the door handle, ready to walk in when a wisp of light auburn hair had caught your attention inside the cafe. 
There she was. Pudding. The girl who had replaced you. The one who had captivated Sanji’s attention in a way you could only dream of.
Sanji stood beside her, you were certain he couldn't see you from inside, his attention was fully on Pudding’s face, absorbing whatever story she had been telling him. 
He had never looked at you like that.
Did he ever love you? Were you that stupid to even see the truth? Had it been there all along and you were simply too blind to notice?
An “excuse me” had brought you back to reality and had you rushing back to your apartment in hopes of not bumping into Sanji or Pudding. You weren't sure your heart could take it if you were forced to talk to them.
After that defeat you noticed that you were no longer hacking up petals, but fully blossomed flowers, you couldn’t walk for a long distance without wheezing, the flowers constricting your airways preventing you from wanting to do anything. You knew you were nearing the final stage, soon roots were going to begin to show up, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go to a doctor. You had read that the longer you kept this from being treated, you’d enter the point of no return. 
So, you simply waited.
Your mind was reeling. You never wanted to stop loving Sanji. You didn’t care about the pain that it brought you. 
You don’t care that you still long to have Sanji tell you that he loves you. To tell you and for you not to immediately have to turn away and cough up blood and flowers. 
You missed him. You yearned for him.
After Nami had found out why you and Sanji broke up, she went on a rant about how she was going to kill him, on how he could have done this to you. You weren't sure if you had ever seen her get so angry before. 
But even after that, you confessed that you still loved him. 
She proceeded to call you insane, but she simply didn’t understand. She didn’t know about how his eyes would sparkle when he would go on about a new recipe that he developed and how he was certain that it was going to be the new hit at the Baratie. She didn’t know how bashful he got when you complimented him on his food. How he’d kiss you like how it was the first time you were kissing each other.
You loved him. And you would forever love him.
But he haunted your life. Leaving you lying at night, not even allowing you to find comfort in your dreams since he haunted those too. When you’d close your eyes you could only mourn for the love that once was. To mourn for him even though he was alive and well, but could you say the same for yourself?
You had long accepted that you were going to die. If anything, you willed it. Never did you want to forget your love for Sanji. The idea that you would never be able to recall how he made your heart pound every time he’d look at you, would be a nightmare.
But you were tired. 
In the months after the cafe incident you would go through phases where the pain would turn to anger, cursing Sanji, wishing you two had never met, wishing that Nami had never introduced you too. 
But the anger would never stay directed towards Sanji. It would always circle back to you. And anger would turn to pity and pity would turn to sadness. 
You wanted to cry and scream at the sky, to yell at the world, to question why love felt this way. Why couldn't he just love you back, why were you being punished for simply loving him unconditionally?
You suffocate yourself in the love that you have for Sanji. Sacrificing your every breath to simply feel the true and fierce love you felt for him. You’d cry until you were gasping for air, til you were choking up flowers that were clogging your lungs. You wished, begged, for it to go away. Wishing that you had never fallen for him. 
But even with all the pain he caused you. You could never hate him.
You could never hate Sanji.
You can’t even bring yourself to hate Pudding, it wasn't her fault that Sanji was infatuated with her rather than you.
And you could never truly hate him for that.
The sterile white walls and the smell of disinfectant wafting through the air brought you back to reality. 
Recalling how hours before Nami had found you on the ground of your bathroom, post-hacking your brains out from the various blooms of flowers that rose from your throat at what seemed like at every hour of the day as of recently. You hadn’t heard her call for you when she entered your apartment so you weren’t able to hide anything from her. 
“Are you insane?” Her voice ricocheted in the bathroom after you had explained to her what had been happening to you for the last couple of months.
You were numb the entire car ride to the hospital as Nami yelled at you for being so careless. 
“Why are you letting that boy kill you?” 
Why were you? 
Why were you putting yourself through this pain, knowing he would never love you again?
The recent memory reminded you of Nami’s presence on the side chair that was placed beside the crunchy bed you were currently sitting on. Her brown eyes met yours and smiled softly at you. 
“You’re gonna be okay.” Nami’s attempt at reassurance was comforting to you for 5 seconds before the door swung open revealing the doctor. 
“Hello,” she said your name, “you’re the one with hanahaki disease, correct?” You glance over at Nami before replying to the doctor in confirmation. “Well, unfortunately, it has been developing for a while and if you had come just a little bit later it would have been untreatable, so I highly suggest proceeding with the procedure as soon as possible.”
Your hands grew clammy. This was it. You were going to be relieved from this grueling life you had found yourself in. You would finally be able to go back to normal. 
Normal. 
Would it truly be normal if you didn’t love Sanji anymore? Could you truly live with yourself knowing that you gave up the one thing that has been keeping you going? You guess you wouldn’t actually remember your love for him if you did the surgery but your heart would know. Your soul would know. 
You wished that all of this pain would go away. Longing to run back to Sanji, for him to stop the anguish that you felt. To have him whisper that he loved you and for you to not cough up flowers anymore. To know that he truly meant the words that he was saying.
You wondered how your life would have gone if you had never fallen for Sanji. Would your life still lead you to this very moment of hell that you’re living currently? You would think that hell would be hot, blazing with heat, but all you felt was the coldness of lies that you believed that spewed from Sanji’s lips when he spoke to you. 
You would like to think that you wished you had never fallen into this trap. That your heart never fell for him, but you knew better. You knew that he had your heart from the beginning. You were doomed from the first interaction.
Wasn’t it a true act of love if you could let the person go? Wouldn’t it be the final seal of approval of your love if you went through with the surgery? The love that you felt for Sanji would be proven by this simple act. 
You felt Nami’s hand grab yours. Her eyes were filled with remorse, a sadness that you could distinguish as the same sadness that you saw in your eyes ever since that first petal came to be.
Anticipatory grief.
She was grieving your love for him already, grieving for your heart, how you would never love again, how you would never love him again.
You sigh. 
♡‧₊˚
You wake up to the soft murmurs of the television in the corner of the room. 
Your mind was hazy, from what, you weren't entirely sure yet. It felt as if you had lost something like it was on the tip of your tongue, but you just couldn’t think of exactly what it was.
Guess it wasn’t important.
Your eyes wander over to your surroundings, the hospital room is bare except for the basic, usual furniture. Your eye caught movement out of the corner of your eye, turning your face to examine what it was.
A balloon with the words “Get well soon!” fills your vision, and your gaze scans over the hearts that surround the bubble letters in bright yellow hues. You reach over the side table to grab the card that sat under the balloon. 
Hope you feel better - Nami.
Sad that you had missed your friend, you made a mental note to pay her a visit after you were discharged from the hospital to thank her.
A soft knock echoed throughout the room, your attention to the door opening revealing the doctor. “Hi, glad you’re awake. The procedure was a success. You should be good to go soon, but take it easy for the next two weeks.”
The procedure.
You quickly scour your brain for answers of who it was you loved but came up short. 
Guess that was the point, wasn’t it? 
Before you could thank the doctor, rushed footsteps were heard outside the room, hasty knocks piercing the air along with the clamor of the door opening quickly. 
Sanji’s blond hair comes into view, and he stands, wide-eyed, near the doorframe. He was panting slightly, a sign that he possibly had been running before he got here. 
He says your name quietly, the doctor gives you a nod before excusing herself from the room to give you guys privacy. 
“Sanji,” you smile brightly at him, “Did you get off of work? Why are you here?”
His eyes shift over to the balloon on the stand beside the bed. “Nami told me about the…procedure.”
“Really?” you roll your eyes teasingly, “It’s not that big of a deal honestly, that Nami. Always the worrier, thank you for visiting me though, you’re a good friend, Sanji.” You look away before you can notice Sanji’s face falling. 
You look back at him, “Oh, could you take me home? I probably shouldn’t be driving right now.” you laugh quietly and scan Sanji’s face. His mind seemed to be somewhere else, perhaps he was really busy at the restaurant. “If you can, if not I’ll just call Nami.” 
“No,” he clears his throat, “Yeah I can take you home.” 
You offer him a smile, “Thanks, hey I think I may have to fill out some paperwork. Could you grab it while I go change?” You begin to stand up slowly before he rushes over to help you up.
You look up at him to thank him again when you realize his eyes are watering. 
Weird. 
Your eyebrows knit in worry, “Hey, are you okay?”
He blinks rapidly while looking away from you. His hand lets go from his grasp on your arm and runs it through his blonde hair while turning away from you. “Yeah, I’m fine.” he coughs, “Uh, I’m gonna go look for those papers.”
He walks out of the room before you can respond, leaving you slightly confused but you shake it off before you begin to look for your clothes. 
You don’t see Sanji standing outside the doorway, coughing up a flower petal. 
811 notes · View notes
soullessdianthus · 9 months
Note
Pervy!Rudy pls? I don’t see much for him but godddddd I need it
A/N: JESUS FUCKIN' CHRIST, you can't imagine how loud I screamed and kicked my feet, when I saw this request! I like Rudy so much, he deserves more attention! For sure will write for him more! Some headcanons and a little story at the end!
Warnings: perverted mind, but Rudy is a possessive softie, nsfw (masturbation, scent kink, touching under the table, some dirty convos in Spanish?, inappropriate dry humping to warm reader)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
✧°. Rudy is very aware of his perversion. He knows he shouldn’t imagine doing anything deviant with you or it shouldn’t make his manhood painfully hard. He was way beyond that age of sudden boner because of a girl. 
✧°. But since you had been transferred by your superior to be stationed with Los Vaqueros, Rodolfo couldn’t keep his eyes or thoughts off of you. Somehow every interaction with you became exciting, intoxicating even, making his heartbeat go faster. 
✧°. Especially in the evenings that were lonely, when everything slowly quietens down, soldiers going back to their dorms after a long day. Perv!Rudy would lie in his bed, staring at the ceiling or trying to focus on a book, but the uncontrollable desire forces him to recall your last interaction with him, when one of his palms sneak under the hem of sweatpants onto his throbbing dick. Rodolfo just needed to get rid of that tension and fantasies of you were the only solution! :(
✧°. He could picture your face really well, the sound of your voice and laughter. Also those whimpers or heavy breathing while on a mission that caused you to be so exhausted. 
✧°. Perv!Rudy would like to make you tired in a different way though. He would show you how beautiful you are and how good care he would take of something that was completely his. 
✧°. Your person had become a sort of one, big fantasy of his, since your presence brought him comfort on a daily basis. You were so kind and sweet to him – sitting with him and Alejandro in the canteen, politely listening to their stories or tacky jokes.
✧°. At some point Rodolfo offered to teach you Spanish. Of course you knew some, but weren’t fluent and it might come handy while being in Mexico with them. Obviously he suggested such a deal to spend more time with you. 
✧°. And not long after, you two were walking everywhere together. If not interrupted by Alejandro, of course.
✧°. “Quiero agarrar tu culo, chiquita. [sp.: I want to grab your ass, little girl]”
✧°. “You want to… my… sorry, what? I don’t know those words, Rudy.”
✧°. “Don’t worry. You will.” 
✧°. He tried to be sneaky about his dirty remarks, but Rodolfo missed the point in time, when you began understanding conversations in Spanish. He noticed only when he said something similar again and your cheeks flushed bright pink. But it was just a silly joke, right? 
✧°. Perv!Rudy was hypnotized with your smell – he couldn’t determine if it was a detergent you washed your clothes with or a body wash that cleansed your soft, smooth skin from the dirt. If he only got a chance to stand close to you, he would discreetly inhale the scent of your hair. 
✧°. Perhaps, when he was standing right behind you, correcting your posture as you aimed forward at the shooting range, his head leaning over your shoulder to devour the sweet scent of yours.
✧°. And it got him thinking, what would your pussy smell like? What would your juices taste like on his tongue? Divine for sure. <3
✧°. Perv!Rudy would be strong on “marking his territory”. If you ever mentioned that you were cold near him, he would give you his hoodie without hesitation or doubt. The sight of you in the oversized clothing — a belonging of his, drenched with his scent and sweat would make Perv!Rudy go feral.  
✧°. Due to his hospitality and kindness it didn’t take long before you fully trusted the sergeant major. You didn’t mind his touches, even when he kept his hand over your shoulder or back almost all the time. His touch was warm and gentle. Always. 
✧°. You weren’t uncomfortable even when he began to playfully squeeze the plush of your thigh under the canteen’s table like it was his stress ball. 
✧°. Because Rodolfo is a thigh man, you cannot convince me otherwise. If you ever happen to wear thigh socks around him, he would pass out from euphoria.
✧°. One time, he saw a basket filled with your clean clothes and a certain pair of panties caught his attention. You left the laundry room for a moment as one of your friends pulled you out for some gossip. Perv!Rudy hesitated for a while before he snapped those panties from the clothes pile and tucked them into his pants’ pocket. 
✧°. Later that evening he would inspect the cotton material, pouring between his fingers, before wrapping it around his pulsating and leaking shaft. Rodolfo would pump hips into his own fist, thinking what you would look like, sitting here beside him and helping Rudy with his aching erection. :( 
✧°. He needed your help so badly – your innocent looking eyes glued to his face, waiting for further instructions on how to satisfy Sergeant Parra by stroking his thick, meaty shaft. 
✧°. Lately, while a mission went very, very wrong – you found yourself and Rudy being taken down the river by its stream. You managed to pull yourself and Rodolfo out of the agitated waters. 
✧°. Your clothes were soaked, tightly fitting to your feminine figure and the loud gasps you took for air – it was the first thing Rudy registered after you pulled him out of the river. He felt your hand pressed against his chest as you coughed out some water. 
✧°. Perv!Rudy was more than grateful and he couldn’t wait until there was a possibility to show how much he appreciated it. Sergeant found an abandoned cabin in the nearby woods – it was your camp for the night, as the dusk had fallen. 
And, oh no! Your walkie talkies were destroyed by the water! You had to wait until the rescue team would find you!
Tumblr media
You were walking back and forth between one wall and another, trying to warm up. Every piece of clothing you and Rudy had on was drenched, the chilly air of the night only worsened the feeling of cold. 
A strong shiver shook your body and arms entangled around your torso, while his gaze was stuck on your trembling form. He was getting worried. 
━ We should take those clothes off and let them dry. ━ Rodolfo was older than you and therefore more experienced in crises like this. You knew he was right, but somehow hesitated for a moment, before removing your tactical vest.
━ Yeah, but wouldn’t it be… um, weird? 
You expressed your worries, you didn’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable! Just as you placed the gun holster and vest on the old, dusty table, next to his gear and weapon, the sergeant stepped closer. 
━ ¿Por qué? ━ Rudy asked, before pulling your long sleeved shirt through your head as you obediently raised your hands in the air. It took every inch of his willpower not to roam over your exposed chest with his palm. ━ If we go in the hypothermia, we’ll be dead in the morning. Nothing weird here, chiquita. 
He was right, the nights in Mexico during winter were cold and you just got out of the river. You had no extra clothes and starting a fire was off the table. 
Both of you continued stripping until all you had left was your underwear. Out of curiosity you took a look at his almost bare form, only his boxers covering some flesh. Rodolfo gathered some old blankets he found in the abandoned cabin and placed them on the floor.
Meanwhile you felt helpless – there was nothing more to do to warm yourself up. Your only option here was a walking radiator in front of you, your comrade Sergeant Parra. You stalked his movements as he moved through the room, placing blankets down. And before you knew, he was reaching his hand in your direction.
━ Ven aquí [sp.: Come here]. ━ Rudy slid himself under the big blanket, before inviting you to join. 
You didn’t hesitate for long, before laying down next to Rodolfo. You turned your back to him and grabbed the edge of the blanket, trying to keep the warm within its space. 
A little gasp escaped your mouth, when Rudy wrapped his bulky arm around your waist and pulled you into his muscular chest. His stomach was tightly clinging to the small of your back, his head almost leaning over your shoulder. The short hairs all over his thighs tickled your own limbs. 
━ You’re shaking. ━ He noticed with a worry audible in his voice. With your body pressed to his, he could feel each spasm of a muscle that indicated your early stage of hypothermia. 
━ I-It’s okay, I will w-warm up in a mi-minute. 
You were the textbook example of a woman with low blood pressure and freezing cold hands. You were almost always cold, but in a situation like this it only meant troubles – you couldn’t warm up properly. 
━ Shit, we got to do something about his, no? Don’t want you to freeze here, chica.  
Rudy’s arm that was entangled around your waist, reached down to the hem of his boxers. He took out his cock and began stroking it just like he liked it. Like he always did when thinking of you. 
━ R-Rudy, what are you…
━ Shhh ━ Rodolfo silenced you, his cheek resting a little higher than your temple ━ trust me on this one. 
When the sergeant finally was hard and aroused enough, he placed his cock between your soft thighs, so high up it clung tightly to your clothed pussy. You shifted slightly, but Rudy placed his hand on your hip, keeping you in one place.
He began slowly rolling his hips, sliding between your clenched thighs. His erect cock was almost pushing between your folds to rest between them.
━ R-Rudy, mhm. ━ You whimpered as the warmth of arousal slowly began spreading through your cold body. 
━ It feels better, yes? ━ Rodolfo asked, proud of himself and thanking the God for creating such circumstances where he could finally make you his girl. You only nodded weakly. ━ I need you to tell me, how does it feel now?
━ I-It feels g-good.
Rudy released your hip as it didn’t seem you would wriggle away now. He sneaked a hand through your hip and pubic bone to slightly pull the material of your panties to the side. Only then he could continue rubbing against your bare core, sliding easily due to your arousal. 
The tip of his cock was repeatedly teasing your swollen clit with the firm thrust of his hips. You let Rodolfo gently rock your body in a suitable rhythm. 
━ That’s right, just relax, bonita. Let me warm you up. 
Only when Rudy praised you, you managed to relax, feeling each limb more heavy and slack. His arm entangled around your waist again, the man’s palm making its way under the bra you were wearing. He wanted to play with your pretty breasts, that were tempting him for so long. 
You began to mewl and moan, when suddenly approaching your sweet climax. Your hand reached backwards to grab Rodolfo’s short hair, his heavy panting audible in your ear. 
With each thrust he kept slapping his front against your plump bum. Once he even released your breast to slap your jiggling ass and admire the red mark in the shape of his hand.
━ Rodo-oh-lfo! I’m gonna… ━ you squeezed your eyes shut, before any tears could escape them. Your little whimpers became almost pathetic ━  please. 
━ Good girl, come on, come on. You can do this. 
With a few more thrust against your sensitive nub with his throbbing cock, you felt the strong wave of ecstasy washing over you, causing the back of your head to dig into Rodolfo’s shoulder. 
Soon after you, he followed and reached sweet orgasm too – his length spasming and spurting cum onto your cunny and thighs. 
When you both began to calm down after sharing a sexual high, he turned you around to make you face him. Rudy couldn’t stop admiring your flustered face, lips slightly swollen and red. He traced their outline with his thumb, before peppering your cute face with kisses. 
Rodolfo kept your body flush to his, so no body warmth would waste as he kept praising you for being a good girl for him. He would watch over you while the side of your face sank into his chest muscles and you drifted off to sleep. 
Now, when you were properly heated, he didn’t have to worry about you getting yourself into hypothermia.
966 notes · View notes
jennifer-jeong · 7 hours
Text
[Smut] [AFAB!Reader] Voice Message
Tumblr media Tumblr media
SUMMARY He's on a work trip and you decide to record him a little gift
CONTENT NSFW, 18+, smut, assigned female at birth (AFAB) reader, m and f masturbation, sex toy usage, orgasm, implied relationship, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+
WORD COUNT: 1278
Tumblr media
GOJO SATORU, KAMO CHOSO, AVENTURINE, RAFAYEL, MARIUS VON HAGEN
It was a nice evening, the sun was just setting and there was a nice breeze coming through the window of your apartment that you shared with your lovely boyfriend. He was on a work trip so you were feeling a bit lonely and also a bit… needy. Yeah it had only been a week but could you really blame yourself? You were ovulating, of course you kinda needed him. So, sitting up in bed and feeling a bit cheeky, you decide to record him a little message. A video message felt like a bit too much of an endeavor so you settled on an audio message. After preparing your favorite “materials” you pressed record.
He was only a few time zones away so it wasn’t too late at night for him yet. He heard the notification come up on his phone and read it over.
Heyyyy, I’ve been missing you so I made this for you cuz I thought you might be missing me too pookieee <3 enjoy with headphones ;)
Your boyfriend raised an eyebrow and then smiled, realizing what you had probably done. He was in his hotel room for the night so he figured he’d get ready for bed and take a little listen and indulge himself.
After situating himself in bed in his pj’s (sweatpants and a white t-shirt), he replied to your text.
Hey pretty girl, miss you too <3 I’m about to give it a listen 😏
You liked the message and waited for his response, having already finished yourself.
After seeing your reaction, he put in his earbuds and turned off his light, setting his phone down on the nightstand. He pressed play, closed his eyes, and your pretty voice filled his ears.
“Hey baby” you said out of breath already. “I miss you- mmmphff” his eyes shot open and his cock twitched. Your heavy breathing and light moans sending a wave of lust through his body as he swallowed hard.
“hah ngh… miss you a lot… hah- wish you were here- mmm!” His eyes started to roll back into his head as he clenched his jaw, hands sliding down to palm his already half hard cock.
“Wish this was you inside me,” you said, followed by moans. “You always fill me up s’gooood… nothing feels the same.” He could hear your vibrator buzzing in the background of the audio, turning him on even more knowing that you were actually getting yourself off just thinking about him. He threw his head back, pushing it into the pillow thinking about how you were fucking yourself with a dildo and upset that it wasn’t his dick. He let out a light moan at the thought and touched himself through his pants, painfully hard at this point.
“Only you make me feel that good baby, I really need you,” he could hear your small “ah’s” and the occasional “mmph” between your sentences. “I’ll make you feel s’good when you’re back,” that made him roll his eyes back again, blinking slow and with lidded eyes thinking about you.
“Sorry this is all I can do for you now baby,” he started pulling down his sweats and boxers, “...the only way I can help get you off.” He groaned when he finally freed his cock out of the confines of his pants.
“Bet you’re already all hot and bothered hm?” you giggle “not that I mind.” He moaned at your slight teasing. “Thinking about it actually turns me on more- ngh,” he started to stroke himself, his tip sensitive and leaky because of you.
“Mmmmm fffucckkkk” you moaned lowly “m’ close daddy.” He let out a shaky sigh hearing the pet name, it was so fucking filthy that it was erotic to him but he still loved it and you did too.
You continued to edge yourself closer and closer to the edge in the recording and he followed suit. Your moans got more and more whiny and loud, barely able to think of more dirty talk for him because your brain was in overdrive focusing on all the stimulation. He adored this part of the recording though, just listening to you pleasure yourself, saying the occasional “feels s’good” or “yes” between needy whines.
Your already fast breathing picked up a minute or two later and he noticed it, knowing that you were already close. “P-please cum with me,” you sobbed out, “I need ittt… hgnhh.”
Your boyfriend cursed under his breath trying not to let out too much noise in the hotel room. But it was so difficult when you made him so sensitive and you weren’t even here. He sped up his hand, having it now well lubricated with a mixture of precum and saliva he spit onto his hand. The erotic wet sounds of him stroking himself paired perfectly with your recording to turn him on to the absolute max.
“I’m thinking about you,” your voice starts again, clearly shaky. “How it feels when we cum t-together mmm,” you say through labored breathing. At this point you’ve managed to bring him to the edge with you, he’s bucking his hips upwards, fucking his fist imagining it was your gummy pussy squeezing him so heavenly like you always do. His hair is starting to stick to his forehead slightly as his body continues to overheat from all the pleasure. He grabs his shirt and pulls it up to hold between his teeth preemptively, not wanting to stain his shirt and also to muffle any moans that escape.
“Fuckkk- ugh- mmm!” you cry through the phone as his body tenses, abs spasming as he fucks his fist and free hand gripping the sheets. “G-gonna… gonna cum!” you babble as you breathe heavy into the mic, each moan rising in pitch until your breath hitches, letting out loud groans as your waves crash over you. “hh- ah! c-cumming! hmmnnnnn cummingg nghhh” he hears in his ears, throwing him over the edge with you as he thinks about how your walls clench and twitch on him when you cum. How you gush arousal all over him when you finish on his cock. His own breathing has sped up at this point as he bites down on his shirt and lets out a strained “f-fuck!” and moans your name quietly. Ropes of cum cover his torso as his hips stutter upwards into his hand. His legs are shaky as he comes down from his high, riding through it with slow strokes, almost overstimulating himself since you were still coming down.
Slowly your breathing slowed and you ended the recording with a quiet “love you baby.” He took his earbuds out and blinked a few times, taking deep breaths as he lays there, enjoying his afterglow and also thinking a bit of “wow… well that just happened.” He stays in that moment a while longer before grabbing the nearby tissue box to clean himself up and run to the washroom quickly before settling back down in bed to text you a reply.
Holy fuck I’m saving that Omg did you like it I fucking loved it wow You really just made me that for free LMFAO mm hmm just for you baby Don’t worry I’ll be sure to give you a payment in another way plus the tip of course Idk if the pun makes that better or worse. ANYWAYS ilysm babyyy I’m glad you liked ittt :) I love you sososo much too pretty girl, can’t wait to see you so I can love you properly in person For now sleep well though, good night <3 Hehe MWAH I’m looking forward to it sleep well too baby, good nighttttt <3
Tumblr media
Thank you for reading!
Tumblr media
|| MASTERLIST ♡ ||
176 notes · View notes
Text
Zuko x reader - one more time
Tumblr media
Hey can I get a Zuko x reader where the it’s Legend of Korra era but what it is is that Korra or Bolin just anyone in the main group ask about his past s/o who was the reader and he talks about them in a sad old man way taking about his deceased lover 😭 thank you - Anon 💜
Korra had been trying to figure everything out, and she realised the only connection she had to Aang, the one that knew him when he was going through the same thing was Zuko.
So she visited him, and spent as much time as she could asking questions, asking for advice and help.
“I’m sorry Korra, but this is not something I’m so good at, (Y/N) was better at giving advice than I ever could have hoped to be.”
“(Y/N)? You’re partner?” Korra asked.
Zuko nodded his head and gestured for her to follow him.
He led her through a lavish garden, nearly cared for, and when they reached the middle he showed her a large statue and Korra stared at it.
You were absolutely stunning, you looked young, beautiful, elegant, yet powerful and a fair ruler.
“Wait.. I think.. I think I spoke to them. In the spirit realm.”
“You did?”
They both sat down in the bench opposite the statue of you.
“Yeah, they were the one that told me to come speak to you, that you would know what to do.” She said.
Zuko smiled and chuckled softly as he stared up at the statue in fondness.
“They always said I knew what to do, even if I didn’t realise it straight away.”
Korra looked at the former fire Lord, and she looked up at the statue of you.
“What were they like?” She asked softly.
Zuko smiled softly, turning his head to the floor before he looked back up at the statue.
“They were… they were strong, stubborn, like Katara, but peaceful and loving like Aang. They saw the beauty in everything around, but they were one of the bravest people I had ever met.”
Korra listened carefully as Zuko told her all about you.
He told her stories from when you two first met, how you had left the nation to fight with Aang, and you would always mock him for not being able to defeat you.
Then how he fell in love with you, on the day of the war ended, while he was fighting with his sister you risked your life for not only Katara, but for him too.
He loved your stubbornness, and your smiled that could light up a room on the darkest night.
“They were more then anything I could’ve ever asked for, they gave me the love and the forgiveness I never have asked for from anyone else…”
Zuko sighed, running his finger alone the lone wedding band on his finger.
“They were the love of my life and more…”
Korra reached out, placing her hand on his arm, making him look at her.
“You’ve done them proud, they told me how proud they were of you, and how much they miss you.” She said.
He smiled softly and looked at her.
“Really?”
“Yeah, of course.”
He nodded his head and looked at your statue before turning to the young avatar.
“Do you think you can talk to them again?”
“I.. don’t know. Maybe.”
“If you do please give them this. I was going to give it to them on the our anniversary before they passed, I’ve carried it ever since.”
He handed over an old letter, and she took it, slipping it into her pocket.
“Of course, will you tell me more about them?”
Zuko smiled and carried on talking, and Korra just sat there listened to his stories.
She knew he was lonely, she heard from Katara how you were never without one another.
To loose your lover so early and have to go on through life without them? She couldn’t imagine how lonely and how painful it must be.
She heard the way he talked, the sadness in his voice, the tears brimming his eyes as all he could do was stare at the statue.
Korra looked at the statue and she saw something behind it, and all she could do was stare at the spirit.
She didn’t need to compare the looks to know immediately who it was.
She watched as you walked over and sat in front of your statue, resting your elbow on your knee, and you rested your chin on your palm as you smiled at Zuko.
“Ask him to tell you about the time he proposed to me.” You whispered softly.
“Can you tell me about the time your proposed to (Y/N)?”
“You really want to hear about that?”
Katara flicked her eyes to your spirit, and you gently nodded your head.
“I.. (Y/N) wants to hear it.”
“They’re here?”
Zuko knew the avatar could see spirits, talk with them, and he knew since the spirit realm was opened more and more were pouring through.
He never thought that you would come through though.
“They’re here…” she smiled.
Zuko looked around and Korra pointed to where you were sat, and all she could do was smile as he smiled to himself.
“It was supposed to be elegant, I had a large ball planned, everyone was invited, everyone was waiting for me. (Y/N) wore the most beautiful clothes you had ever seen, made out the finest silk you could ever see. I was walking down the stairs, and I tripped, falling the rest of the way and I knocked (Y/N) over along the way.” He laughed.
You laughed as well and nodded your head.
“I was so embarrassed I quickly left and (Y/N) followed me, out to this very garden and we stood in very spot. They kissed me, and told me that it was okay, and I asked them there and then if they would marry me.”
He twisted the wedding band on his finger.
“They teased me and kept putting off the answer, and I went to walk away thinking it was them rejecting me… I tripped again…”
“But they said yes.” Korra smiled.
“They did. But not before laughing at me first.” He chuckled.
Korra watched as his face turned to sadness.
“It was the best marriage I could’ve ever ask for… but they got sick… they tried to fight, to hold on but they wouldn’t do it anymore. They passed away in their sleep, they never got to watch our children grow up, they never saw the kingdoms grow closer.”
Korra couldn’t handle it anymore, she knew she shouldn’t do this, but she felt like she owed it to Zuko, for everything he’d done.
“Close your eyes.” She said softly.
Zuko did as he was told and she placed a hand on his head, whispering something she stepped away.
“I.. I don’t know how long it’ll last, but I hope this helps.”
She handed him the letter he gave her and stepped a few steps back, watching him open his eyes and he stared directly at you.
He smiled and you stood up, walking over to touch his face.
Maybe she was breaking a lot of rules, but Korra knew he was breaking inside without you, he’d been so alone without you for so long she wanted him to have some time with you, even if it was just a few minutes
1K notes · View notes
the-kr8tor · 18 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Autumn of '88
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader
Word count: 3.8k
Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie is mentioned taller than R, Reader and Hobie are 13/14 in this, Puppy love, TTN! Reader and Hobie, set in the TTN universe, best friends to lovers (prequel to TTN), CW food mentions, Fluff.
A/N: This is the last of the 1k celebration fics! Thank you all so much ❤️❤️❤️
Thread the Needle Masterlist
Navigation
Tumblr media
Head on your palm, heavy eyes slowly closing with every dreary words that your biology teacher says, you fight a yawn from escaping since the last time someone yawned in front of Mrs. Weathers they got kicked out of class. But with the boring subject about symbiotic relationships in the wild, that you most definitely already know since you did the advanced reading, you're tempted to yawn loudly and widely just so you could escape from this biology hell.
The air is crisp, October air breezing through you from the open window to your left. Clad in your cardigan and yellow corduroy pants, the cold still seeps into the thick fabrics. It's a comfortable cold but with you sitting still for more than an hour without stretching your limbs has you freezing in your seat.
You risk getting called out by Mrs. Weathers if she notices you looking out of the window for even a second. But you are so bored out of your mind that you'd rather stare at the oak tree outside than continue to listen to her yapping about symbiosis. Having the brilliant idea to hide your wandering eyes from the teacher with your hand slightly covering your profile, now safe from her piercing gaze, you watch as the orange leaves dance with the breeze.
There's a pile of dead leaves at the bottom of its trunk, and you wish you could jump inside and never have to study biology ever again. It must be so warm and cozy inside, with the orange and yellow leaves as your sky and walls, you'll live like a tiny mouse queen ruling over your land. You think of all the stuff you'll bring inside your little leaf kingdom, your sketchbook is definitely a yes, and also your big pack of colorful markers and pencils is an absolute need. You'll need some snacks of course, some eggos and cheese balls would suffice. As for sleeping, you guess you'll never need to sleep when you have so much time to do anything you want in your leaf kingdom.
Yet, you think you'll be lonely inside. Sure you can bring your gameboy or your care bears, but they can't exactly talk and have the most riveting banter with you. With a smile, you plan to bring your best friend with you to your autumn kingdom. Hobie can be your bard or your right hand man. It's perfect, you think, a perfect place where it's just you and Hobie where there's no more school to attend, no more grades to keep up, just you and him having fun in the pile of leaves.
With a sigh, you blink slowly as your eyes get heavier and heavier with every daydream. Fighting the sandman from having his sandy grip on you, you pinch your cheek subtly. Opening your eyes, a familiar silhouette appears right next to the oak tree. Long arms waving in your direction, legs jumping to get your attention. Blinking rapidly, it's none other than Hobie who has the widest grin on his face when he notices that he finally has your attention.
He motions for you to go outside, beckoning you over dramatically. Miming that he'll cry if you don't go outside. You think otherwise, quietly giggling at his antics.
After the realization, you straighten in your seat, wondering why and how he got outside when he's supposed to be in maths.
A loud thwack slams against your desk, jumping awake, Mrs. Weathers shakes her head, tongue clicking in agitation.
“If you're not prepared to listen in class it's best that you should leave, miss L/N.” She says, gritting her fake teeth.
“Okay,” you stand up to collect your things, shoving your notebook and books inside your already full backpack. Your reply has Mrs. Weathers confused, since you are her best student.
“Wait—” you've never seen her flabbergasted, your classmates snicker silently in their seats, some even clap and cheer you on.
Giving them all a shrug, you exit the classroom before she grabs you back inside. With the door shutting close, you sprint towards the exit. Trainers squeaking on the linoleum, backpack heavy, you push the double doors open with your shoulder. Hobie greets you outside just as the fresh air whips at your cheeks.
He claps slowly but surely, face proud with a smug smile. “I've got to hand it to you, Pingu, I did not expect that. I have successfully made a rebel out of you.”
Hobie stands on the grass like he owns the entire school, hands tucked inside his jeans, thumbs tapping on his metal belts that clinks against each other when he moves. For once, he's dressed for the weather, the old worn leather jacket now fits him better than last year, it was bigger on his shoulders back then. Puberty works in mysterious ways, you think. A denim vest lays on top of the leather, handmade pins of his favourite things are all tacked securely on the denim. Its edges are frayed, but you know it was intentional since you're the one who helped him do it. The thrifted ‘Queen’ shirt you gave him on his birthday is the perfect size, but you know that he'll only be able to wear it for a couple of years at the rate he's growing.
No one would think you two are best friends judging by how different your styles are, or how different you are to him. Personality wise, likes, dislikes, it's all different, sometimes you wonder how you two get along. But you wouldn't have it any other way.
“How'd you get out of maths?”
“Climbed out of the window before Mr. Keery came in.”
You doubt his story. “Yeah, right, your classroom is on the third floor, Hobie.”
He feigns hurt, “my own best mate doubts my abilities?” You roll your eyes, but the heat in your cheeks says otherwise. “‘m great at climbing, I could climb down from that height.” You stay silent, looking at him with a raised brow and unblinking eyes. “...fine, I faked sleepin' by snorin’ loudly, happy?”
You touch his shoulder with a mischievous smile. “Hobie, you don't have to fake snore because you snore like an elephant giving birth.”
“You're very funny,” he takes your wrist to push your hands away. You now notice the new nail polish on his nails. “That doesn't even make bloody sense.”
You ignore him, mouth agape and shocked at his painted nails. “You finally coloured your nails?” You take his hand that has nail polish sloppily painted on. The paint even reaches to the edge of his nails, painting his skin with shadowy black. “You could've asked me for help, y’know.”
“It's part of the style” He shrugs, taking his hand away before you can feel his pulse pick up.
“Sure, even the bubbles are in style.” You tease with a playful smile. “So why'd you call me over here?”
“Got bored, then thought you're also bored so I went to your window so we could skip the rest of the day.” He purposely skips the part that he knows exactly where you always sit.
You gasp. “Wait, I thought we were just skipping class, not skipping the rest of the day!” Hands on your hips, you shake your head. “And here I thought there's like a really cool… stick or something.”
“A stick?” He chortles.
“Yeah, like the one you found a few days ago that actually looked like a sword.”
“Nah, I wanted to—” A high pitched whistle echoes out, startling you both. Finding the source of the sound, the school guard is currently running towards you. The hundreds of keys on his belt jingles, cheeks red from all the whistle blowing.
“Oi!” The yells, pointing accusingly at you two.
With wide eyes, Hobie takes your hand before sprinting away. He practically drags you along with him, bigger strides than you, he looks over his shoulder to check on you. Unsurprisingly enough, he has a huge grin on his lips, as if he planned all of it.
You follow his lead, dead leaves crunching under your shoes, backpack weighing you down. Yet, he doesn't leave you even though you're slowing him down. You appreciate him for not letting your hand go, but you don't like how your heart hammers against your chest when you look at your intertwined hands.
Finally reaching the metal fence, Hobie chucks his backpack over it. It's not that tall for him, he could easily jump over it with no problem, but with you still waiting on your growth spurt, it'll be a challenge for you. He knows it too, without asking he grabs your bag off your shoulders, he then quickly throws it over the other side before crouching down with his hands on top of the other.
“C’mon, Pingu, up you go!” Hobie flicks his eyes over to the guard, he's glad that the guard isn't exactly a track star. The whistling gets louder as the uniformed man gets closer. “Hurry—!”
Before he could finish saying the word, you shakily put your foot on his palm. With one strong push, and a jump from you, Hobie hoists you over the fence. You miraculously make it over, landing on your side with a groan. Hobie follows a second later, climbing like his life depended on it. Immediately grabbing each of your backpacks, then putting both on one arm, he lifts you up from the pavement with one hand just before the guard could even reach the fence; you two race off across the street, huffing and aching from the daring escape.
Going around a corner, Hobie leads you towards an alley. He skids off to a stop, heavy bags falling off his arms.
Hands on your knees, lungs burning, and face sweaty from the run, you check behind the corner if the guard is still after you.
“He won't follow us anymore. We're out!” Hobie exclaims, exhilarated, and grinning widely. He leans on the wall opposite of you, chest heaving, laughter echoing around the empty alleyway.
Copying his stance, cracking a smile, you laugh together with him. “You're a bad influence, Hobie Brown.”
“And you're a great influence, Y/N L/N.” His smile and his shining eyes says it all: we balance each other out. “Too bloody nice, that's what you are.”
You shake your head, chin resting on your clavicle to hide your lopsided smile. Heat on your cheeks, you seem to find yourself having the same expression lately whenever you're around him.
“Where to?” He asks once he caught his breath.
“My choice?” You ask, smile permanently etched on your lips.
“‘course,” Hobie says it like it's the most obvious thing. He was supposed to add to his sentence but he shuts his mouth before he could let the word escape.
You excitedly perk up. “The mall?”
He makes a face. “I'd rather stay in maths.”
“Arcade then?”
“They'd kick us out,” you knit your eyebrows in question. “Because we're skippin’ class, they put up that fuckin' sign a few weeks ago.”
“Oh right, I forgot. How about the record shop? Mike's cool, he might let us stay until classes are over.”
Hobie pushes himself off the wall, strutting over to you, your heart quickens for some reason. He pats shoulder with a smirk. “Your best idea yet,” taking both bags off the grimey floor, he puts them both on each shoulder. It's your turn to smirk at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” you say in a sing-song tone.
He clicks his tongue, avoiding your eyes. “C’mon then, before someone sees us here and thinks we're skippin' class.”
“Hobie, we are skipping class.”
“Not if we act like we're not.”
“...what?” You chuckle, blinking in confusion. “What would you do?”
“Nothin’, let's go.” He walks away from you.
“Oh come on, what will you do? Will you put on your best acting skills like how you faked being sick in front of the nurse? Because she was definitely convinced that you had chicken pox!” You giggle, following him, matching his longer strides.
“It worked, didn't it?” Hobie turns his head away from your playful glance.
“Yeah, because you had an actual fever. But sure, your drawn on chicken pox was very convincing.”
“I'm an artiste, Y/N.” He says, trying to do a french accent.
You snort, “sure, and I'm the queen of England.”
“Alright, your majesty.” He stops, “carry your own luggage,” your bag thuds on the pavement. “I don't want to help some parasite.” Smugly walking away, you feign hurt with your loud gasp.
“You…you doodoo head!” You yank your bag, wearing it properly on your back. Running after Hobie, he has a mischievous smile, one you're all too familiar with.
“Doodoo head? That the best you can come up with?” He says before bolting off, leaving you in the dust.
“Hey!” Running, you follow him with a laugh. “Asshole!”
Finally reaching the vinyl shop, the bells jingle as you two enter. The smell of plastic and cheap air freshener lingers in the air, the ancient shaggy carpet is soft under your trainers. Shelves upon shelves of records greet you as you roam your eyes around the different album covers. It's a slow day so the store is empty except for Mike the cashier who has headphones on.
Hobie sniffs dramatically, “home sweet home!”
Mike cracks an eye open, with a groan after seeing you and Hobie standing by the door, he chucks his headphones on the counter, looking disgruntled. The denim jacket with hundreds of patches and bottle cap pins is large on his lanky frame.
“Oh great, Hobie's here.” He says sarcastically, long straight hair flipped over his shoulder with one move from his head. “And he brought his little girlfriend. Hi, Y/N, you still hang out with this arse?” He points at Hobie who doesn't bother correcting him anymore. “Seriously, I thought you were smarter than that.”
“D’you finally have it, mate?” Hobie acts like he's the same age as Mike, even though the teenage cashier could be his older brother. Ignoring Mike's jab, he waits for his reply.
Wanting to quit his job is clearly seen on his face. Then he considers the fact that he needs to save for college. With a sigh, he points towards the end of the store, where you think ‘it’ is there.
Hobie punches the table with a thump, then he excitedly bounds over to where the cashier pointed. “Thanks, bruv.”
“Cyndi Lauper?” You ask, all wide eyed and shy. “It's not at the front anymore.”
“Over to the right, just across where your boyfriend is.”
“He's not my—nevermind, thanks.” Walking past all the display, Hobie guffaws when he finds what he was looking for. You smile at how happy he is.
He's so happy that he grabs you by your elbow, pointing at the new ‘Ramones’ album. The words “Ramones Mania” are printed in bright red.
“Finally! Look!”
“I see it, Hobs.” You chuckle, “didn't this release months ago though?”
“It did,” he sighs like he's recalling a bad memory. “But this place isn't making a lot of money from records like this, so Mike here!” He yells the last part to annoy the man. “Delayed ordering it. I had to come ‘ere every day just to remind him.”
You see Mike pressing the volume up on his walkman. Making sure that Hobie sees that he's not listening to him.
“You didn't tell me that.” You say, sounding a bit too hurt.
“Thought you wouldn't care.” Hobie shrugs, “‘sides, you don't listen to stuff like this.” He points at the album.
“I could listen to it, Hobs. I make you listen to my records and you seem to like it.”
Hobie's eyes soften. “You wanna listen to it together then? You might not like it.”
“Yeah,” you nod. “If I don't end up liking it then at least I gave it a try, right? If I do like it we have something new to talk about.”
He could only manage a smile and a curt nod. Taking the record to the listening booth that sits at the corner of the store, he leaves his bag outside whilst he opens the door for you. Placing your bag down more gently than he did, you enter the cramped booth.
Mike yells after you two, “you lot better not snog in there!” You and Hobie scrunch your faces at the man.
“We're fourteen, mate!” Hobie yells back, not agitated, just weirded out by Mike's comment.
“You're fourteen? How would I know? You look fuckin' sixteen, bruv! Tall motherfucker.” He whispers the last part, Hobie didn't hear it but you surely did.
“I thought he was cool.” You admit, shutting the booth door behind you.
“He's a wanker, just actin’ like he is. Thought you fancy him?”
“Ew.” He beams at your reaction.
You giggle, the sound bouncing off the padded walls of the booth. It's just a regular rectangular box with a shelf for the record player and a bench to sit on. It's quieter inside, the cars outside are muffled, the only clear thing you can hear is how your heartbeat gets faster and faster the longer you stay squished inside the booth with him. Sitting down, you leave enough space for him. Hands on top of the other, you roam your eyes around the cracking paint on the walls, mind making shapes from how the navy blue paint crumbles.
Hobie carefully takes the record out then places it on the record player. Sitting next to you, you can practically feel his excitement reverberating. He takes the headphones from its rack, turning each around so you and him could listen at the same time.
“Ready to shit your trousers?” He asks, eyes glinting from the single light bulb. He's so close to you that you can see yourself in the reflection in his eyes. And you can see every single strand of eyelashes that's perfectly blending in with his eyeliner.
“I don't want to poop on my trousers, I like this pair.” You joke, and you pat yourself on the back for making him laugh. “This is corduroy, Hobie.”
“Alright quiet time now.” He presses play as you hide your amused smile.
You bask in the sunset, eyes closed, you let the autumn air kiss your cheeks, your hands are behind you, propping you up. Despite the dusty pavement, and the looming problem of getting found out that you skipped school, you're perfectly content where you are right now. It would be perfect but you're missing something, or someone for that matter.
Cold air suddenly blows right behind you, the convenience doors close with a hiss and that's your cue to look up. Hobie appears upside down in your vision just like you thought, he tilts his head, you can see the cogs in his head turn. Placing the cup on your forehead, he laughs at your crossed eyes. Condensation rolls off from the plastic cup and into your skin.
Hobie takes it away before you could catch a cold. Sitting next to you, he hands you your bright slurpee. There's a mix of colours, red and blue melting into the orange and purple.
“They didn't have the brown one.” He says as he rips open a pack of Doritos. “There's no puddin’ pops either.”
“Aw,” you say slightly disappointed, but the sight of the box of nerds inside the plastic bag helps remedy your disappointment. “Ooh nerds!”
“Where?” As he says it, you see a grin slowly spreading on his face. “I only see one right here!” Chortling, grin wide, the orange hues of the sky paints him with its watercolour glow. You'd take this sight more than a day alone at the arcade.
“Ha ha.” You say flatly, sipping your drink too quickly, you wince loudly. Hobie guffaws into the barren space, save for the 711 behind you and the woods sitting quietly in front of you. His laugh echoes, even with his amusement, he still has the time to pat your back affectionately.
“Ow.” You rub your temple.
“What’d I tell you before? Drink it slowly, love.” The title slips out of his tongue. The second he realizes it, he hides behind his own cup, sipping wordlessly as he stares off into the woods.
Love, the simple freudian slip has you blinking at him slowly. He has never called you that before, he has, however, called you a bunch of nicknames that are either sweet or to purposely annoy you. But love? You've only heard older teenagers call each other that, and they usually have their hand inside their girlfriend’s or boyfriend’s back pockets when they do. You have no idea if Hobie has mistaken, because you're clearly not love, you're pingu, you're cheese, you're pebbles, hell, you're even lad, or his best mate. Never love, because that's reserved for someone you actually like, someone you truly care for.
Is he mistaken? Mimicking something he has heard around school?
“I should've told you about the album.” His voice wakes you to the present.
Do you care for him? Of course you do.
“What?” You breathlessly ask.
He's your best mate after Danny left, he was the only one who filled that lonely lonely gap he left. You think he's stuck with you forever, and he thinks you're stuck with him forever. Strangely enough, you both think it's perfect.
“Me pestering the shit out of Mike.” You knit your eyebrows at his words. He looks down at his boots, a small puddle at his feet reflects his own confused face. Is he apologizing? Why is he apologizing for? Weirdly enough, you both ask the same question.
You'd annoy Mike for him. You'd call the shop endlessly just so they would order his record. Even if you get in trouble for the telephone bill.
“You would've helped.” Hobie continues, eyes now looking into your own.
Care, it's a simple word, but you think it's not enough to describe how you feel about him, how you really feel about your best friend. It's much more than that.
“Yeah, I would've annoyed him too.” You softly smile at him.
“I know, love.” Because he knows you, and you know him too. Hobie utters the title more confidently, the word rolling off his tongue like butter. He makes it sound like he has been calling you that in his head for a long time. Maybe he has. “I know you would.”
He had the answer the whole time, it's not just you caring for him. It's love, it's love in its earliest state, it's love at its most innocent.
You love him, that revelation scares you, but it's better not knowing how you truly feel whenever he smiles at you and your heart skips a beat. Now you know, you'll tell him one day, one day when that feeling gnaws at your chest. But for now, you'll settle with drinking slurpees with him, you'll settle for skipping class so you could listen to records with him. For now you'll settle with loving him as his best mate, and for now, you're content just by being at his side.
Tumblr media
148 notes · View notes
126dvtn · 11 months
Text
— who am i to you?
summary : do you even exist to diluc?
genre : angst; hurt no comfort; argument
note : not proofread drafts! this is a depiction of an unhealthy relationship. read with caution
Tumblr media
"yknow, diluc, just sayin," you call out from the couch, perking the ears of your busy partner, "you can always take a break and chill out from all the work you're doing."
sounds of paperwork ruffle heavy with the weight of its value to diluc. he pauses, thinks, and continues. "i don't quite get what you mean." you groan and shift your stature to face him. "i mean, come and spend time with your dear partner, please?" with every word comes a breathier tone, and you hope it pulls him towards you.
it doesn't. "apologies, my honey, this is due tonight. it's crucial for the winery to keep running," his eyes take no chance leaving the mess of text and ink. "what about tonight, then?" your dejection spills all over your voice. silence. he takes a breath; "i'm heading out. justice will never be served for as long as those thieves do not face punishment."
"you've said that for the fourth time this week."
diluc sighs. "the lives of the citizens are important, love, you know that. their safety is important. justice is important." only now does he look at you; not because you need him, but because he needs you. he needs you to understand.
"more important than me, luc?"
thin are his lips as he presses them together- stopping himself from answering you. "there's- look, there are hundreds of citizens, and only one of you; i don't- don't you understand? we need to think of the people, i-" he stands and staggers towards you. "you know what i stand for, dear, you know what i need. don't you?"
now it's you who stands, toes curled into the floor as tension grips you. "what about what i need? it's always been about you, where do i come in your life? who am i to you, diluc? just another citizen? hell, you'd treat a random citizen way better than you'd treat your own fucking partner, won't you?"
he pinches the bridge of his nose. "[name], listen-"
"i've been listening to you for so long, and all you talk about is justice and citizens and thieves, like you're a knight of fucking favonius. don't you know how lonely it's been- day and night all alone because someone's life revolves all around work and so-called 'justice'? it hurts, diluc."
fire swells up within him, and he shouts; "you signed up for this! you signed up to be my partner, even though i told you how important this work is to me!" his voice is thick, molten lava burning his held-back tears.
"if you can't stand the way i live, then just leave." a crack in his voice substitutes his hesitation. all tension that held your bones rigid shoot straight for your heart. of course. of course he'd pick his work over you. of course he'd pick the people over you.
"fine," you whisper, except it comes out as a croak instead. he staggers, like he's shocked.
"only if it means you'll treat me better than you do now." he stammers, like he wants to stop you.
"[name], wait- i didn't mean that," you shift back when his hand reaches for your shoulder. "you never meant anything you said to me, diluc. i get it now." you shift back further without prompt.
every word you say; every step you take puts out and reignites the rage in his heart. in his throat. "i don't- you're just being irrational now." "and you're not?! you just fucking told me to leave because i asked you to take a break. get a grip, diluc."
you tug your ring off your finger. the ring he bought you- and so expensively etched his vow into. 'i will always protect you', it says. he said it better, you remember.
"this is for you, [name]." in your palm unromantically slipped a ring which you didn't see, because your eyes were on your partner whose sheepish face turned as red as his hair.
"it is.. to always remind you of me," he mumbles, eyes not meeting yours. "if you ever feel alone, i will always be there for you. wherever you are, i will always protect you. i.."-
the memory trails off with the tear that trails down your cheek.
"goodbye."
you drop the ring.
684 notes · View notes
actual-changeling · 8 months
Text
Crowley watches him silently, motionless, and with his shades securely in place. If he has been counting correctly, and he rather assumes he has, then Aziraphale has been talking uninterruptedly for twenty-five minutes and two seconds now.
Three seconds.
"…so, I'm sorry, Crowley. I'm so, so sorry."
He is wringing his hands, unable to stand still, and shifting his weight slightly from foot to foot, searching for Crowley's gaze and failing. The sudden silence feels almost odd, the expectation rolling off Aziraphale in waves even more so, only infinitely heavier, and for a moment, he entertains the thought playing the part Aziraphale has thrust upon him.
But only for a moment.
"Right," Crowley responds, tightening his grip on the door and pressing his other palm against the frame, effectively barring Aziraphale from entering like he has been for the last twenty-six minutes.
"Anything else?"
Confusion wrinkles his forehead, and his fingers no longer turn his ring round and round over a stretch of reddened skin. Maybe it is the utter monotony of Crowley's voice or the lack of reaction in general, but Aziraphale seems, finally, at a loss for words. His mouth opens and closes a few times, his eyebrows knitting together, and Crowley allows him another thirty seconds of patient waiting, after which he calls it a day.
"Great."
He steps back and closes his front door, normally and without slamming it, locks it, and then miracles up a deadbolt for good measure, before picking up his cup of coffee from the chest of drawers (still hot if it knows what's good for it) and strolling back to the living room.
Eighteen months. A year and a half. Another apocalypse is dawning on the world, but if there is anything the last six millennia have taught him, it's that humanity will fix it anyway; they have a knack for that, always outsmarting heaven and hell alike. Well, and him, since he is neither here nor there—so, a special mention to the former angel slash demon Crowley, thank you very much.
A familiar pain tugs at his stomach nevertheless, a faded lightning bolt of distress shivers down his spine, and Crowley sinks into the cushions with a sigh, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and pressing play on Queer Eye again. The ache will never fully disappear, but it has lessened, and he has learned how to live with it, how to breathe around the crudely stitched-up black hole in his chest.
Aziraphale left, and Crowley stayed. It's really simple, in hindsight, and after weeks of moping and crying, being completely wasted for days at a time, and overall being so miserable, every single one of his plants stopped being scared and became concerned instead, Crowley had picked himself off the floor and kept moving.
Not moving on is worse, Nina had told him during one of their board game nights (none of them can resist Muriel's angelic puppy eyes in that regard, and it is, admittedly, kind of fun), and she had been right.
He still loves him, fuck, of course he does; he doubts he will ever stop. Yet if Aziraphale thinks showing up uninvited and monologuing without pause for twenty-five minutes is going to fix anything, he is sorely mistaken.
'Listen, do you hear that?'
'I don't hear anything.'
Ironic, somehow, that Aziraphale is still not listening to him. Crowley will wait because it's Aziraphale, because he loves him, because despite everything, he is fucking lonely and misses him enough to be tempted to take him back without any apologies whatsoever.
Just tempted, though. His barricades and well-practiced self-control are going strong.
He has to be sure this time. He has to be sure that Aziraphale won't break him again, because the most recent incident almost killed him, and Crowley loves earth, loves him—but he has to love himself more than he loves his angel, or it will destroy them both.
Jonathan van Ness gives some poor sod a new haircut, Crowley drinks his piping hot coffee, and Aziraphale goes home.
It's a nice Tuesday, all things considered.
-
i'm sorry but also not :)
262 notes · View notes
starillusion13 · 4 months
Note
are the requests stil open?😭 if yes then can I request a mafia mingi x reader pregnancy trope? maybe he doesn’t want the child so they get into an argument and kicks her out. Months later mingi is chasing her back 🥹 thank you🤍🤍 angst to fluf please ! ^^
Lets Begin Again
Tumblr media
Pairing: Mafia husband! Mingi x Wife!reader
Genre: Angst, Mafia, Family au, Fluff
W.C: 3.6k
Warnings: arguments b/w husband and wife, mention of abortion, lonely days of pregnancy, Regret. Mingi loves his son a lot. Reunion of family. Forgiveness.
Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity
Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated . Applause to the ones who come up to me to interact and they know how friendly I am. Okay enough!
Tumblr media
Half of your soul being excited and other half being nervous. Of course, the news was a life changing for you and that meant there would be new responsibilities and new beginnings but mainly you were repeating to yourself how to deliver this news to your husband. He was busy in the mafia business for last one month and you were trying to tell him, but he was always dodging you like he would listen to you next time. Today, he had earlier texted you that he would be coming home early as they had succeeded in their mission and their leader had allowed them to go off and rest for couple of days. And that should be your opportunity to tell him. Tell him that how lucky both of you are going to be. It’s going to be a happy moment for both of you. Or it’s going to be something else.
As soon as you heard the doorbell, your eyes lit up with excitement and you skipped towards the door to greet your husband who was back to you, to his home.
And there, him standing tired and exhausted but still smiling dearly at you. You greeted him back with the same gestures and welcomed him inside.
“I see that you are happy to see me early.” He asked you while placing his shoes aside.
You nodded and kept his bag on the stand, “of course, Mingi. Whenever you come back home, it feels like I have missed you so much.”
He chuckled and pulled you closer to him, “I missed you too, Y/n.” You could smell his cologne and it was comforting.
You tried to pull away but he held you tighter, “Hey, go freshen up. I will prepare some food for you. And…just go.”
“And? Just say it now. You are going to say something so just say it.” He asked you in a low voice and you rested your palms over his chest. Eyes shining and teeth nibbling the lips.
“Mingi……We are going to start our family in a new way.”
“New way? What do you mean by that?” He had a frown on his face but still managed to put on a smile.
“You are going to be a father.” You happily squealed in the end of the statement. You stared at him, to see his reaction on hearing the news of your baby. Your anticipating eyes somehow dropped to see him serious. Just cold, no more emotion on his face. No more smiling at you. “Mingi…”
His hold loosened his grip and moved back from you, leaving you confused.
“What do you mean?” He asked you in an unsure tone and looked away from you.
“I’m pregnant, babe.”
“and since when did you know about this?”
“last month. It's been almost two months old...”
He chuckled, but not amusedly, he was annoyed. He brushed back his hairs and heavily sighed.
“So, there’s still time for abortion.” He stared straight at your eyes.
“What?” you were more confused with his statement. Did you hear it right? He mentioned about abortion. Right? That did only mean that he was not happy with the news.
“You…you don’t want the baby?”
“Of course not. Get rid of that thing.” He spat it out harshly.
You gripped the sofa tightly and sink deeper into the leather when your back of the knee hit the sofa. The leather was of smooth texture but it was stinging your skin harshly like his words to you. You waited for one month to say this, only to hear him telling you to get rid of this.
“Thing?...This… this is our baby…our-“
“Stop it, Y/n!” You flinched at the loud voice. “I just don’t want to hear anything more regarding this topic. You are going for an abortion tomorrow and that’s final. End of this discussion.”
You didn’t reply him anything but just staring at him in disbelief. You couldn’t believe that the man who shouted at you was your once loving boyfriend whom you have married five years ago and never ever treated you less than a doll in his house. If you had done anything wrong then also, he would have put on a smile and would teach you the right thing and would fill you with kisses and cuddles.
Did something happen that suddenly he is acting this way?
He slammed the bedroom shut, leaving you alone in the living room with you and your thoughts. Tears flowing down your eyes and you didn’t care to wipe them off but clutched your fists above your knees. Does he not care to have this child? But why? Is he not happy with having a child?
Time passed and you didn’t notice how you fell asleep on the sofa. You heard some shuffling sounds and you sat up.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“Mingi…Do you not want the baby?” You asked quietly. He was calm than before but you were not sure if he would listen to anything related to it.
“Stop it. Tomorrow, you are going to the hospital with me and I don’t want to hear anything else from you.” He spoke in a tone of authority, keeping the strong eye contact with you.
Your eyes looked tired and shocked to see your husband acting this way. Your world seemed to be falling apart. This is the most important part of your life. This is the connection between you both then why this is unwanted.
“This is our baby, Mingi.”
“Not needed. Our life is better without any baby so without getting any further with this conversation, we are going to hospital and you are aborting it. Got it?”
“No. I’m not doing this.”
“Are you really talking back to me on this?” He raised his eyebrows, tilting his head in a daring way to challenge you to speak more.
“Yes. I am stating my true points unlike you who is running away from his responsibilities.”
“Y/N!”
Standing on your feet, you walked towards him, “Enough. I don’t want to hear further anything about this. If you don’t want this then I’m keeping and will take care of him. All Alone”
Your hot tears pooled in your eyes, shaking and threatened to fall anytime smoothly across the cheek just like the way the both of you were drifting apart from your once lovely relationship. You balled your fist and grabbed his collar of his t-shirt and looking at him in disbelief where he was daringly watching your movements.
“So, you think you can take care of yourself all alone?” Raising his eyebrows, a questionable look on his soft face.
A teardrop escapes your shaking eyes but he seemed not to care about it at this moment, only if he had seen that in other moment, he would have ripped off the skin who made you like this. But maybe he has changed. He has changed after he found out that you are pregnant.
“I can. If you don’t want this baby then fine, I will have this baby and will do take care of them on my own. I want to raise him to be a better person but never like you.”
“Y/N, you are crossing your limits.”
“Am I? And what are you doing? Running away from the responsibility and turning your back when we are ready to take a step further to our relationship.”
“Responsibility? Y/N, we can think of this another time.”
“Mingi. When you didn’t want this then why you gave me false hope and prepared my mind to accept this baby?”
You were breaking down and falling apart into thousands of pieces. The lovely and healthy relationship between you both was fading away and you didn’t know how to keep it in place anymore.
“Y/N, calm down. These are just feelings and you are overwhelmed knowing about this sudden news last month. All these will fade away.”
Calm down? Feelings will fade away? These all are his thoughts for me right now? All the promises, love talks, future plannings, bonding, everything seems fake to you now. His smile, laugh shared with you, adorable gestures to you, they all seem like just an act to you. So, he just wanted you to be his wife in this mafia world to have a high position? He didn’t care you as his love and never wanted to have a baby who can be a burden to him.
“Sure. If you don’t want any of these then fine, I’m leaving you here on your own and never try to find me.”
At this point, hot tears streaming down your eyes, your hands messily tugging the loose hair strands behind the ears. You took some steps back and ran to the bedroom. You grabbed some nearby clothes and some important things and put them in the bag and came out of the room. Seeing you, Mingi thrashed away all the things from the shelf where he was leaning. The action made a loud sound followed by shattering pieces of the fibres scattered all around the floor just like your heart was breaking with each word. You flinched and your hands trembled.
“You are leaving me? Are you serious?”
His eyes were furious and his breathing was heavy and he was contemplating the whole situation. You were standing near the stairs, gripped the stair railing for your support and watching him. The one who being a mafia never showed you his beast side in any situation is now a raging one who could burn you alive right now.
“Yes. I’m sure that leaving you here will be the good decision and have my own life far away from you.”
“If you really think that everything is so easy out there then just go. Leave me.”
He didn’t stop you as if he was waiting for you to leave fast and never want to look at you again.
“You made me dreamt of forever but this is our ending. I don’t want to regret leaving you but I want you to regret every second until you realize your fault.”
And with that, you left him. Standing in the middle of the living room, furiously watching you disappearing behind the door, from where you were never going to come back.
.
.
.
“Aw my Mingyu. Don’t cry baby, mommy is here.” You were trying to put him to sleep for past thirty minutes but no matter what, he was kept crying and you were so tired because last day you had a stressful night and didn’t get enough sleep and despite your head was paining, you put on a smile on your face and trying to make him sleep.
But your smile was like a dam, hiding the flood of sadness.
You heard a faint knock. You waited silently to see if you misheard it or someone was on the other side of the door. You don’t have any visitor at this hour. If anyone, it would be either Miyeon to ask you whether you need something, she was a life savior when you came to her crying that day alone. Or it could have been maybe worse for you. Or it would be another person at your door, Renjun. He is always there to support you and help you like a sweet and caring best-friend. He comes at your place to play with your baby.
The doorbell broke your trance and your startling made the baby cry even more. Cradling the baby in your tender arms. You reached the door to open it. You knew the neighbour-hood was very safe so its better to live there alone and safe.
But as soon as you opened the door, you felt as if your world stopped, every sound deaf to your ears, everything hushed and still. The person standing in front of you was the one for whom you had cried everyday but never for once you wanted to see. You wanted to give up on your baby to get your husband back but also stepped back with the thought of raising the baby.
“Y/n….”
He almost whispered out your name. His eyes lingered over your face to recognise you, if you were the person whom he kicked out from the house. Yes. You were and standing in front of him. What does he want now? His teary gaze moved down to your baby, who was silent but still restless in your arms. Tears flowing down your eyes hearing his voice. You were watching him, only him and he was watching your baby, his baby.
“Is he…is he my son?”
My son? Did you hear right? He asked you about the baby. He was crying while watching the baby. His shaky hands raised up to touch the baby but you stepped back, leaving his hand raised. His fingers curled into a fist. He finally looked up to you.
“Please…” He was begging to you. But for what?
“Why are you…here?” Finally, you spoke. His heart ached hearing your voice after ten months. How madly he wished to hear your sweet and loving voice. You were right that he would regret every second but did you regret anything?
Yes and No. But maybe a lot of things.
“How…How are you?” He sniffed and gulped the lump down his throat. His throat was tight, not able to form any words but still he wanted to say so many things. “I mean…Both of you…How are you?”
“You don’t have to know about us. You can leave. I don’t know how come you know about this place, even when I’m in a different country but I suppose your mafia business made it possible. Neither me nor my son needs you. Leave.”
You had that same harshness like he had at the day you gave him the news of pregnancy.
“Please…I-I don’t want to go away…Please I want to…”
“You want to?...” You wanted to look strong, to shove him away. Your mind telling you to shut the door but somewhere your heart was aching to see him, telling you to hug him, hold him tight and cry the anger and loneliness out.
“I want to ask you to forgive me, Y/n. I know it’s a difficult thing for you. You can’t forgive me so easily. But please listen to me, please.”
You remain silent for few moments. The baby had fallen asleep.
You gestured him to come inside and close the door. You didn’t want your neighbours to hear the commotion at your front door. You sat on the sofa while he remained standing nearing the chair across from you. He glanced at you and his son.
“I'm sorry...I...I was scared, Y/N. I was always scared for you being in my merciless life. You are always my first priority and most important responsibility. I love you so much. I never wanted to cause any sort of little harm to you but when….when I got the news of your pregnancy, I got more scared. I thought how to welcome a new member and take more responsibility when I am always worried for you? I didn’t want to lose you again.”
You sighed. Your last kidnapping was something that triggers him everyday.
“Y/n…I didn’t mean…I don’t want the baby but I was scared. I was scared how to protect him and you from this world. Everyone out there would cause harm to someone innocent like you. And he is a little one. I haven’t had anyone so soft in my life except you. And I didn’t want him to come into this life where he would feel unsafe.”
 He thought that you were unsafe in that outside world. He was scared someone again would take you away from him. Someone would again cause you harm. Someone would scare you. Moreover, someone would harm his child. He didn’t mean to not have the child but he was scared because he didn’t know how to protect you both.
You patted the space beside you. He hesitated but your assuring eyes led his slow steps to make him sit beside you. His hopeful eyes stared back at you as you looked at him with a broken soul. Your eyes were speaking how happy you were with your son but somewhere they were not shining because the sadness was over-shadowing it.
You shifted a bit forward to hold his wrist and squeezed it in assurance that you were listening to him. You held your baby towards him and he slowly took the sleeping little one in his hold. Tears falling down his eyes and a tear drop fell on the baby’s cheek who was warmly wrapped in a blue towel cloth. No one would believe him as a mafia member who was crying helplessly in a casual grey and black t-shirt and pants with a sleeping infant in his hand.
“Are you still scared?”
“No. That day when you left me, I will never forgive myself for that...I have made up my mind. I was wrong. I should have listened to you. I should have thought about it but I kicked you out when you needed me the most.”
Yes you needed him the most but you still need him.
He was staring straight to you, “I thought about expanding our family everyday. To have a beautiful family with our children but the news seems like so sudden and early to make any decision. My messy head did not think that how much you will be hurt. I will never forgive myself for hurting you. I proved to be a bad husband and a bad father.”
“No Mingi, listen. You are going to be a great father. You are going to protect him and he is so lucky to have you. You were worried and scared and that’s why you ran away. You are a mafia member and you only know to handle every situation aggressively and that’s why you went far away from me because you did not want to hurt me. You were scared of yourself.”
“You are not angry or upset with me?”
“Hmm. I am upset. I am angry too. I was having so many emotions going through all these months but they didn’t fade away. They became strong with the time. Whenever I was alone, I felt scared but the next moment I felt nothing because I kept telling myself that no one will be there to make me feel safe. I was angry with you leaving me without hearing my side, without looking back at me to see how helpless I was. I was upset that my decision to keep this baby had broken us apart. I was upset that the reason I was crying and you being angry with me was all because of me. Because of this baby.”
Mingi hugged the baby to his chest and crying continuously. His ears and cheeks turning red to the effect and you caressed his head.
You both were scared and were weak in making a proper decision on this life note. If only you both have spoken with each other properly then today you would have been happily enjoying the moment.
“I’m sorry baby. I’m sorry to leave you and your mother that day. Please forgive me. I don’t deserve you but I want you. I need you to be in my life.”
“We deserve many things. We don’t know what we deserve and not but giving chances is a thing to see whether the outcome would be better or not. If we ever get a second chance, we should respect it to prove our previous self wrong, that we need to be better to improve things, to improve the love. The love between us.”
You smiled at him. How he missed that smile and he sadly smiled back at you.
“Now, if the baby wakes up to see his father crying like this. You are going to put him back to sleep. I see why he is such a crybaby.”
Realization hits him and he laughs out aloud with still teary eyes. You laugh along with him.
“I will protect you baby and this little one forever and now I have made up my mind that no matter how scared I will be for both of you. I’m not leaving again. I will fight the danger with keeping you both safe with me.”
“And I will always be standing strong by your side. And Mingi...I want our son to become like you. A caring and loving person.”
"No...I want him to be a perfect human being like you." You smiled at his words.
His hand caressed your cheek and leaned forward to kiss your lips. The kiss had love, loneliness, forgiveness, missing of each other. But mostly, the essence of the beginning of a new life. The baby was sleeping soundly. Those eyes and lips were totally like his father.
“He looks like you, Mingi. I missed you every day whenever I looked at him”
You both looked down to the angel in his hands. The baby he never wanted and told you to have an abortion. He was holding the baby in his hand, firmly gripping as if the baby would disappear, if he ever softens the grip.
He kissed the baby on the forehead and whispered, “I’m sorry…” and turned towards you, “What’s his name?”
“Mingyu.”
“You will be a great mother and he is so lucky to have you as his guardian. I missed some beautiful stages of our life, of our family but I don’t want to miss the days that are coming.”
“He is lucky to have both of us. He will have a wonderful life ahead.”
The baby is a blessing in both of your life and marks the beginning of the new stage of life on a happy note.
“Let’s Begin Again.” He whispered before pressing his lips again with yours.
Tumblr media
Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades [open!]
312 notes · View notes
gojoidyll · 8 months
Text
Just Being Nice
Wriothesley x Reader
Warnings | angst, no comfort
Notes | gender for y/n isn't specific btw!!
Your hands were shaky as you held a rainbow rose in your palms, fingers twitching a little as you carefully moved your arms behind your back as you waited just outside Wriothesley's big office doors. You had knocked a minute or two ago, and he yelled back that he would be down in a few minutes .
So now you were left patiently waiting, a confession on your lips and a flower being hidden behind your back.
You and Wriothesley weren't dating obviously, but you knew that, with all the small hangouts and dates he took you on, there was something going on between you both. A connection waiting to happen. So here you were. Confidence slowly diminishing, but you managed to hold your ground.
Then you heard his footsteps against the metal as he was most likely descending the stairs. Quickly calming your heart, you braced yourself as the doors opened.
"Oh, y/n? Its surprising to see you here, I didn't know we had a meeting."
You worked closely with Neuvillette and the Fortress of Meropide when dealing with crimes, criminals, and trials. So you were always in contact with the two.
"Ah, we don't! I mean, we don't have a meeting."
He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled, "really? Then to what do I owe the honor of you coming to visit me today?"
You found it odd how he wasn't inviting you into his office like usual, but you pushed the thought aside. Once he realizes that I'm confessing, then I'm sure he'll bring me into his office so we can talk more. The thought eased you a little.
Taking a deep breath, you move your arms from behind your back. The pretty rainbow rose that Lyney and Lynette helped pick out, resting in your shaky hands.
"U- uhm, you see Wriothesley..."
This isn't how I wanted to start my confession!?!?! But oh well, I'm already going, no turning back now!!
Wriothesley got the picture as soon as he took in your nervous state, the flower, your reddening cheeks.
He held up a hand to stop you from going on, causing your words to die in your throat.
"Listen, y/n. You're a great person, really. But, I don't see you the same way."
You were dumbfounded.
"Not the same? But.. what about all the times we hung out? Or when you would invite me on those little dates?"
"You.. looked lonely, so I was just trying to he nice. Introduce you to people and get you out more."
"I-"
"Wriothesley? Something wrong?"
You tensed up immediately and hid the rose behind your back quickly as the door opened a little wider. The traveler, Lumine, stood right next to him. Eyes trained on you. And it was then that you finally took in their disheveled appearance.
The pieces quickly came together as you felt embarrassment wash over you.
"Well, I think that concludes the report," you stated as you tried to save what little dignity you had left, "I trust that you won't share the details of the case with anyone, Wriothesley?"
Wriothesley studied you for a moment before nodding, "of course."
Turning to Lumine, you gave her a small smile, "traveler."
You didn't wait for her to greet you back as you carefully escaped while also crushing the rose in your hand in order to keep it out of sight.
Your family always said you weren't good at picking up social cues and what not, and to find out that you couldn't even tell that Wriothesley was just being nice and wasn't interested in you was even worse.
And now, your heart just .. hurt. For good reason to. I mean, why would someone like Wriothesley fall for you when someone like Lumine existed?
>> pt. 2
356 notes · View notes
sunandmhoon · 6 months
Text
Love Songs
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Genre: fluff Pairing: Jeonghan X Reader “He thought about your mind, how crazy it must be, how tiring it must be. Who’s on your mind right now? Who has your time? Who have you been seeing? Why couldn’t you just be his?” w/c: 1926 a/n: Hello~~ new story hehe!! Also it’s fluff this time wooohooo. Also idk if you’ve noticed but every svt story so far has been based off a song…hmmm i wonder why that is?? (also I didn't proofread this so I'm sorry for any inconsistencies) ps: pics are from pintrest ctto :) MASTERLIST; OTHER WORKS Jeonghan was never a person that falls in love easily. 
It’s not that he’s anti-romantic, or that he hates the concept of giving love or receiving love. In fact, on some days when the rain gets too loud, the room gets too cold and the sky gets too grey, he longs for a nice warm hug from a person that he loves. 
He’s had girlfriends before, but they always end in the same way. The same, ‘it’s not you, it’s me” argument. And it is true, he can never find himself infatuated with a person for more than a month. He still finds them attractive of course but he’s never been interested in them, their goals, their big dreams or even their small ones. 
That was until he met you. 
Meeting you was like an angel appeared at his door; like a gift from cupid to cure his lonely heart. A gift in the form of a new roommate. 
Seungkwan was staying in the flat with him before he moved out to his hometown, leaving behind his room and another part of the rent he had to pay. In his absence though, Seungkwan–ever the social butterfly– recommended the place to you, and although Jeonhan was wary at first, he definitely had to thank Seungkwan now. 
When he first met you he felt as though his house was graced by a higher being. The sun flooded into the room in golden rays, shining around you, creating a halo above your head. And though he was the known heartbreaker around town, he felt his palms go sweaty and his ears turn hot. And when you spoke, he felt he got worse. Your voice sounded just like it was dipped in honey; smooth and sweet. He could listen to it forever. Your expressions were kind and gentle, you were the type of person that could lure anyone into your charm like a siren in the sea. 
He was attracted to you, so so attracted to you, but he brushed it off. It was probably just that, Attraction, nothing more. 
As the days went by you two grew closer. First it was catching each other in the kitchen at 3am for a midnight snack. From then on you started talking to each other more. You find out that he’s been living in the flat for five years, he finds out that you just moved to the city. He’s taken you around the area to get you familiar with your surroundings, you’ve cooked him dinner in exchange (and because he only eats ramen in the house). He’s introduced you to his friends, you’ve introduced him to your family.
You even go to him when you need to rant. School’s being annoying? Go to Jeonghan, Your parents are being annoying? Go to Jeonghan, the neighbour that for some reason finds the need to be up at 4am every single morning watching their soap opera at full volume with their door open is being annoying? Go to Jeonghan. Just like the new flat’s been your physical home, Jeonghan has been your emotional home. 
You tell him everything, and even though he loves it, he loves that he could be a person you can come to–can talk to and rant to about your hardships, feelings, accomplishments, he somehow hates it when you come to him for advice on love. 
“How do I get a boyfriend, Han?”, “Why don’t guys like me?” to “Han, I’ve been talking to this guy”, “what do you think of him?” to the dreaded, “He asked me out on a date!”, “How do I look?” he’s been there through it all. And he won't admit it–he can’t admit that he likes you, he can’t admit that he hates when you tell him not to wait up for you because you’ll be at Woozi’s for the night. He can’t admit that it bothers him that you come home, greet him and go to your room. He can’t admit that he’s lonely again, and that he misses when you would talk to him late at night about your dreams, inspirations, aspirations, goals or even just your shopping list. 
And most of all, he hates that you have him listening to love songs. He never used to listen to love songs on purpose, let alone with someone in mind. Love songs have plagued his playlists, and he dreads the day that spotify wraps up his year into one big lovefest. You were sea, sunshine, star and moon; you were his cocoa butter kisses; you were what comes up in his mind when he listens to Daniel Caesar, Frank Ocean and even Drake. You were his in his mind, his playlist, his heart but not his in real life. 
He started doing his work in the living room just to see your face, to see you in the kitchen, on the couch or even leaving for school or work or to your boyfriend’s house, because the longer you were with Woozi, the shorter you were in the house. 
That was until one day when he came home from work. The world seemed to mirror the same sad mood he’s been in for the past month; heavy rain, grey skies, cold air. It was the kind of weather that made him feel even more lonelier than he already was. He was just about to pass the living room to go to his room when he noticed you asleep on the sofa. 
You looked so peaceful that he didn’t want to move, afraid that even the smallest step could wake you up from your slumber. He stood there for what felt like hours but were only a couple of seconds when he was suddenly snapped back to reality with a cold rush of air down his spine. The room was getting colder, he noticed, and he saw you rustling around the couch–no doubt affected by the coolness too.
He saw that your shoulder was exposed to the cool air and quickly but quietly rushed to get a blanket. He placed the blanket over your body, gently tucking the ends to your sides, effectively blocking any coldness from reaching your skin. He froze as you moved, thinking you had woken up, but sighed as he saw you snuggling into the warm comfort of the blanket, continuing your peaceful nap. 
He cleaned the area around you, the tissues, empty soda cans, empty chips. You must’ve eaten yourself into a food coma, he thought, smiling at the thought of your well fed self falling into a deep sleep. However his smile dropped as your phone lights up. Rows and rows of notifications piled up on your lockscreen, all from your boyfriend begging you to ‘take him back’, ‘forgive him’, ‘trust him to do better’.  And then it made sense to him. The food, the tissues, your exhaustion.
Once he finished cleaning up, he just couldn’t find himself to leave you in the living room all alone. You must have been sad, angry, upset, tired and vulnerable right now, and he would hate himself if he knew he was leaving you in such a state. 
He also couldn’t get over the last notification he saw from your phone–he knows that it wasn’t the best thing to go scroll your notifications, but it was there and he couldn’t help it (pls forgive him)-- ‘I can be better than him’. 
Him? 
Is there someone new?
He sat on the ottoman, beside where your head was laying on the pillow and watched as you breathed. Your chest would rise and fall in steady patterns, showing that you’ve fallen into a deep sleep. Your eyelashes were feathered along your eye, and he couldn’t help but be charmed by it. Him, charmed by the simple sight of eyelashes? He couldn’t believe how much he changed, how much you changed him. Your lips were slightly parted, a pale pink and full. He wondered how it would feel against his own, would they be soft? By the looks of it, he thinks it would. 
You looked so peaceful and angelic and he couldn’t help but think about how much you’re going through right now. He thought about your mind, how crazy it must be, how tiring it must be. Who’s on your mind right now? Who has your time? Who have you been seeing? Why couldn’t you just be his? 
He knows that you had a boyfriend but still, despite that, why did you stop talking to him as much? You used to be texting him all the time, checking on him all the time, staying up with him all the time. But recently, your interactions were shorter than two sentences. Was it your boyfriend? Was it you? Was it him?
“If you let me,” he whispered, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear gently, “we could paint a perfect picture, we could even last forever.” he sighed as he feels how strong he loves you–it scares him, he’s never felt this way with anyone before. “I’ll even let you wear my sweaters, I know how you get cold so easily,” he said as his eyes traced your face, from your hairline down to your eyebrows to your eyes, to your nose to your lips. He smiled at how perfect you were. “I’m so horribly down for you, Y/N,” he said, “for the worse or the better,” he added. 
“To be honest, I hate it,” he said, surprising himself with the sudden confession, “I hate how much I feel for you because It’s so strong that it’s hurting me. But I don’t care, I will keep sticking to you, Y/n,” he breathed in, “Because I love you.”
And although you were sound asleep, he still felt as if the weight of the world has left his shoulders. The burden of keeping it trapped within his heart has finally disappeared, and even though he knew that this confession was done in vain as he knew that pouring his heart out doesn’t mean you have to reciprocate it, he still felt happy that it’s out there. 
Maybe you were asleep, but your heart was listening. 
He noticed how the sun had disappeared and the clock was moving into the double digits. He knew that your back was going to be painful if you slept there overnight, so he took you in his arms, the blanket wrapped tightly around you still; like a burrito, and carried you over to your room. There he tucked you in properly, propping your head gently a top your soft pillows, laying the comforter over your, keeping the sides snug. Before he turned off the side lamp, his self control had left his body with his confession as he bent down placing a gentle peck on your forehead. When he felt that everything was done, windows checked, you tucked in, lamp turned off, he headed out the door. 
“Jeonghan,” you called softly, your voice still groggy from your nap. He froze by the doorframe, turning to you. 
“Yeah?” 
“I love you too,” you told him, a soft smile growing on your face before you turned over and fell back to sleep. 
No amount of self control could stop the smile that was blooming on his face, his mind was fuzzy, his heart was racing. He watched you for a little bit more, the same love-struck smile on his face to see if you were still sleeping.
“Sweet dreams, love,” he whispered before leaving.
He needs to give Seungkwan a gift basket. 
-fin. 
Like, comment and reblog pls :)
316 notes · View notes