#How To Save My Long Distance Relationship | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

favefandomimagines · 8 months ago

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loml (r.c)

SEASON 4 PART 2 SPOILERS!!!!

Request: @motherlanaenthusiast “So what if we do a Rafe x Maybank!reader where like maybe she was in morocco but she wasn’t with JJ when he died cuz she was doing smthn else so like they all have to break the news and that happens and then when like after when they’re back at Kildare Rafe like gets deja vu from s1&2 him because he sees reader going kinda crazy”

Summary: Rafe is the only person to save Y/N from a downward spiral.

AN: I will NEVER forgive the writers for this lol I went on a tangent with this one

The sun was blistering and casting a golden hue over the winding alleyways in Morocco. Rafe Cameron and Y/N Maybank moved through the maze of alleyways, their steps quick and purposeful, yet filled with a tension that spoke of something much deeper than their immediate surroundings.

Y/N was JJ Maybank’s twin sister, a spitfire with a wild heart who had once been the center of Rafe’s secret world. The two had shared a tumultuous fling, a secret affair that had started four years ago under the cover of darkness and ended just as abruptly. It was a relationship neither had ever fully acknowledged. Rafe was a Kook, while Y/N, like her brother JJ, was a Pogue, tale as old as time.

The shop was quiet, the group off to Charleston to follow the next clue. Y/N stayed behind to wait for her brother after he had wandered off “running errands.” The bell above the door jingled, and the soft sound broke through the silence.

Y/N was leaning against the counter, staring at her phone screen, scrolling through all the unread text messages to her brother.

"How can I help you?" she asked absently, not looking up from her phone.

She looked up and her breath got caught in her throat, the smile on Rafe Cameron's face grating against the air. He stood at the entrance, hands tucked casually in his pockets, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, keeping her tone even, though the familiar tension in her chest began to build. She’d never been able to shake the feeling of unease around him. Not since everything went down with Pope, the fight that ended whatever it was they had.

"Can't I just stop by and visit my local surf and bait shop?" Rafe said, taking a step inside, his eyes glinting mischievously.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You looking for Sarah?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Actually, yeah. I'm looking for Sarah."

She shook her head, setting the phone down with a soft click. "She doesn’t want to talk to you."

Rafe raised an eyebrow, the smirk still in place. "I think I can have a chat with my sister whenever I want."

"Not if she doesn't want to talk to you." Her words were firm, but there was a slight quiver in her voice that betrayed her more complicated feelings.

Rafe’s smirk didn’t falter as he took a few more steps forward, closing the distance between them. He placed his elbows on the counter, leaning in closer, the sudden proximity catching her off guard.

"I'm sorry about the drama at the beach the other day," he said, his voice lowering in an almost sincere tone. "With Ruthie and the turtles."

She didn’t respond right away, trying to keep her emotions in check. She could feel the weight of his words, but it didn’t change anything. Rafe was sorry—sorry for the mess he had created, maybe, but never for the things that had truly mattered.

"Don’t act like you care, Rafe," she replied, her voice steady despite the knot tightening in her stomach. "You only care about how things affect you. And I guess now Sofia."

He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze growing intense. The years of tension between them seemed to hang in the air, unresolved and unspoken. Then he said, his tone soft but firm, "We used to be so close, Y/N. What happened?"

She sucked in a breath, trying to push down the anger, the hurt, the past. "The drugs happened," she said slowly, her voice low. "Ward happened. Your anger happened."

His eyes darkened for a second, his jaw tightening. He opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it just as quickly. After a long, weighted silence, he took a half step back, his expression softening, just a little.

"I’m on your side, you know," he said quietly, the words almost a whisper, as though they were too important to rush. "I always have been."

The words hung between them, charged and heavy with meaning. She didn’t know what to say to that. She hadn’t known what to say to Rafe since the day he’d walked away, leaving everything torn apart in his wake.

Before she could respond, Rafe straightened, brushing his hand across his forehead as if clearing his thoughts. He turned toward the door, his back to her now. "I’ll be seeing you around," he muttered over his shoulder, the door swinging open as he left without another word.

Now, as they weaved through the ancient Moroccan city, they were older, scarred by the years of treasure hunts, betrayals, and broken friendships.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Y/N said, stopping suddenly, her dark eyes scanning the shadowed alleyways. She had always been the one with the sixth sense, the one who could feel trouble like a storm on the horizon.

Rafe turned to her, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

But before she could answer, they heard Kiara’s voice, shrill and desperate, cutting through the noise of the bustling market.

“Y/N! John B! Pope!”

Y/N’s heart seized in her chest, and without another word, she took off in the direction of Kiara's cries, Rafe hot on her heels. They rounded a corner and found Kiara kneeling on the cobblestones, her face pale and streaked with tears. And lying there, motionless, was JJ.

“No, no, no,” Y/N whispered, her voice breaking as she fell to her knees beside her brother. Her hands trembled as she reached out to touch JJ’s face, his skin already growing cold under her fingertips.

“JJ, please,” she begged, her voice cracking, tears streaming down her face. “You can’t leave me. You promised.” She cried.

But there was no response, no flicker of life in those familiar blue eyes. It felt like the world had been ripped out from under her, like the ground had opened up to swallow her whole. Rafe stood behind her, his face pale, his fists clenched at his sides.

The group stood stunned, no one wanting to be the one to move. But they were in a busy, bustling city with a dead body. People would ask questions. “W-We have to get him out of here.” John B stammered. He moved to reach for Y/N, attempting to pry her off of her brother’s body.

Y/N fought against him, muttering things like ‘I’m not leaving him’ or ‘he can’t be alone.’ Rafe takes over for John B and has to use his strength to pull her up to her feet. He held her in his arms, close to his chest to avoid having to see her two best friends moving her brother.

At that moment, all he could really do was hold her.

Months had passed since that horrible day in Morocco, but for Y/N, time had ceased to exist. She was back in Kildare, but it was as if she was still stuck in that dark alleyway, kneeling beside her brother’s lifeless body.

Sarah Cameron was heavily pregnant, as she prepared for the birth of her first child with John B. It was supposed to be a time of joy and new beginnings, but the shadow of JJ’s death loomed over them all.

Y/N had fallen into a downward spiral, her grief consuming her. She drank herself into oblivion every night, stumbling through the streets of Kildare like a ghost. She would disappear for days, only to be found passed out on the beach or in the hammock outside her house. The Pogues tried to help her, but she pushed them all away, lost in her own pain.

Sarah had told Rafe about Y/N, how she was drowning in guilt for not being there when JJ had died. The words had hit Rafe like a punch to the gut, reminding him of his own spiral years ago, before his father had dragged him into the hunt for the Royal Merchant’s gold.

He couldn’t let that happen to Y/N. He wouldn’t. He loved her even if he couldn’t admit it.

So he found himself standing on the porch of the Maybank house, staring at the peeling paint on the front door. John B’s van was parked out front, and Rafe assumed he was there trying to talk some sense into Y/N.

A part of him thought ‘oh John B is here, I can come back later.’ But he couldn’t walk away, not this time.He’s walked away from her too many times.

He knocked, the sound echoing in the stillness of the early afternoon. John B opened the door, his face drawn and tired. “Sarah’s not here.” He told Rafe. “I’m not here for Sarah. I’m here for Y/N.” Rafe answered.

“She’s not doing well, man,” John B said, his voice low. “We don’t know what else to do. I think... I think she feels guilty for not being with JJ when it happened.”

Rafe nodded, his jaw tightening. “Let me talk to her.”

John B hesitated but finally stepped aside, letting Rafe through. The house was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos that had always surrounded JJ.

Rafe walked down the hall to Y/N’s bedroom, the same room he used to sneak into all those years ago. All of the memories came flooding back as he stopped in front of the door. Nights that ended tangled up in her sheets. Other nights where she just wanted to be held after a fight with her dad.

Rafe pushed the door open to find her cocooned under the comforter, a bottle of vodka sitting on her nightstand.

“JB, please go away,” she mumbled, her voice raw and hoarse. Rafe assumed from a mixture of alcohol and crying.

“Not John B,” Rafe said softly.

Y/N stiffened, slowly emerging from under the covers, moving to sit up against her headboard. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face pale and gaunt. She looked like a shadow of the girl he once knew.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“I’m worried about you,” Rafe said, moving to sit on the edge of the mattress.

“Apparently everyone is,” she muttered, her eyes flicking away from him.

There was a heavy silence, the kind that was filled with all the things they had left unsaid for so many years. Rafe took a deep breath, trying to find the right words.

“Y/N... I know what it’s like to lose yourself,” he began, his voice steady. “I know what it’s like to drown. I was there once, you know that. Hell, I’m still trying to crawl my way out.”

She looked at him, her eyes filling with tears. “He was always afraid to be alone, and I left him alone,” she choked out. “I should have been there. I should have protected him.”

Rafe’s heart broke at the raw pain in her voice. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened, Y/N. JJ wouldn’t want that.”

“How would you know?” she snapped, her voice rising. “You never cared about him. About me.”

The words were like a slap in the face, but Rafe took it, knowing she was lashing out from a place of deep hurt. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I didn’t care about JJ, and I pushed everyone away. But I always cared about you. And I don’t want to lose you to this, Y/N. I can’t.”

“I’m not your responsibility, Rafe.” Y/N muttered. “No but you’re the person I love.” Rafe replied. “You can’t say things like that.” She practically snapped. “Why not? You used to beg me to tell you how I felt and I finally am. I’m sorry it came so late and it’s happening because of this but I’ll be damned if another person I love gets hurt because I didn’t do anything to stop it.” Rafe told her.

She stared at him, the anger draining from her eyes, leaving only exhaustion. “I don’t know how to come back from this,” she whispered.

“Let me help you,” Rafe said, his voice breaking. “Please. Let me be there for you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

There was a long pause, and then, almost imperceptibly, she nodded. It was a small gesture, but it was enough.

“I’ll try,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’ll try to get better.”

“And I’ll be here,” Rafe promised, reaching out to take her hand. “Through it all. I’m not going anywhere.”

A year had passed since that day in Morocco. The sun was shining over the Outer Banks, the salty breeze carrying the sound of laughter and the distant crash of waves. The Pogues had gathered for a special occasion, a day of celebration and new beginnings.

Sarah and John B’s son, Jackson, was turning one today, and they were throwing a beach party in his honor. Y/N stood on the edge of the gathering, watching as Sarah bounced her son on her hip, his tiny hands reaching for the birthday cake.

Y/N was sober, clear-eyed, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she could breathe again. She had fought her way out of the darkness with Rafe by her side, and though the pain of losing her brother would never fully fade, she was learning to live with it.

Rafe approached her, a soft smile on his lips. “You doing okay?” he asked, his voice gentle.

She nodded, turning to look at him. “Yeah, I think I am.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered. “For everything.”

She leaned into him, letting the warmth of his embrace chase away the lingering shadows. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For not giving up on me.”

Rafe smiled down at her before she moved up on her toes and kissed him sweetly. “I love you, Rafe.” She spoke quietly. “I love you too.” He replied.

They stood there together, watching as their friends celebrated a new chapter of their lives, a chapter filled with hope and healing.

For the first time in a long time, Y/N believed that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.

#imagine #imagines #outer banks #jj maybank #rafe cameron #outer banks imagine #kiara carrera #john b routledge #rudy pankow #sarah cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks

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pedroscurls · 25 days ago

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forever, with you (one-shot)

summary: you tell joel how you really feel... during karaoke night at the tipsy bison. and to your surprise, he does the same.

pairing: jackson!joel x fem!reader content warning(s): EXPLICIT CONTENT (18+ ONLY, MDNI) established relationship, alcohol consumption, joel is singing y'all (i think that's the only way he knows how to express his emotions), joel lives!!!, grinding, heavy make-out session, groping and hair pulling (both from reader and joel), cowgirl, unprotected piv, creampie, dirty talk, no use of y/n. word count: 4k a/n: so sad that there's no more tlou and no more joel, so the only way to fix that is to write ;) anyway, i've been listening to a lot of country music lately and every time i do, joel's always on my mind lol. these two songs came on and this idea just couldn't leave my head. so please enjoy and if you like it, leave a comment - it really does make my day <3 (also the song in case you didn't know will forever be the song that reminds me of joel bc it just fits him so well.) fyi - this isn't proofread, just wrote this in like 2 hours and wanted to post it lol songs: how do i live by leann rimes | in case you didn't know by brett young

“When are you gonna sing for me?” you ask him, batting your eyelashes up at him as he’s leaning against the counter of the kitchen island with a mug of coffee.

“I don’t sing,” he answers, bringing the mug to his lips. Joel moves his gaze to you and lets the corner of his lips lift upwards at the sight of you. He loved his mornings, especially since you had moved in. It was easier to fall asleep with you next to him and he loved waking up every morning with your body curled against his own.

“Liar,” you pout. “Ellie told me that you wanted to be a singer when you were younger.”

“Doesn’t mean that I can sing.” He sets his mug down and then moves an arm to wrap around your waist, pulling you between him and the kitchen island. Joel smiles when he feels your arms snake around his neck, lacing your fingers at the nape of his neck.

“But you play guitar,” you answer. “You’ve got this whole cowboy vibe going on and—”

“Baby,” he chuckles. “Just because m’from Texas don’t make me a cowboy.”

“Are you saying you don’t identify as a cowboy?”

“Well, no, I ain’t sayin’ that.”

“Ah, so you do think of yourself as a cowboy?”

“Okay, enough of that,” Joel says, leaning down to press his lips along your neck. He hears you giggle quietly, wrapping your arms tighter around him.

“There’s a song I heard the other day… Save a horse, ride a cowboy?” You grin mischievously.

Joel pulls back to look down at you, eyes darkening at your implication. “Don’t start, baby. I gotta be on patrol in ten minutes.”

“How about tonight then? Can you save me a ride?” You wink, moving a hand to cup his cheek. You brush the pad of your thumb across his facial hair, biting your lower lip.

“Tease,” he growls. “I’ll save you a ride as long as we skip karaoke night.”

“No,” you shake your head. “We’re going to karaoke night and then I’ll ride you, cowboy. Sound like a deal?”

Joel narrows his eyes and moves a hand down to squeeze your ass, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. “Fine, but I ain’t singin’.”

You move your hands to his chest and grip the lapels of his jacket. You pull him flush against you. “Deal. Now, you gonna give me a kiss before you go or just grab my ass—”

“You are feisty this morning, baby.” Joel chuckles, leaning in to press his lips firmly against your own. He wastes no time in moving his lips with your own, feeling your fingers card through his hair. He lets out a low groan when he feels you tug on his lower lip, pulling away slowly to look down at you. “Okay, gonna have to stop or else I’m gonna miss my shift.”

“Yes, sir,” you tease, gently pushing against his chest to give yourself some distance. “I’ll see you later, cowboy.”

Joel nods, leaning back in to peck your lips. Neither of you had been able to say those three words—both afraid that admitting what you both already feel will somehow make things more difficult, more scary. You both had lost people that you loved and cared about, and neither of you can ever fathom losing each other.

“See you, baby.”

Later that night, you’re leaning against Joel—laughter echoing the Tipsy Bison with other patrons. You’re both sitting at a table with Tommy and Maria, Ellie and Dina, and Benjamin sitting on his mother’s lap. Joel smiles to himself, keeping his arm loosely wrapped around your shoulders as he looks around—contentment and peace overcoming him.

You’re nursing your second glass of wine and Joel stares down at you, getting lost in the sound of your laughter and the way your smile meets your eyes. He never thought he’d ever get another chance at this—at having a family—especially not in this world where it seemed to take everything from him.

Joel leans in and presses a soft kiss to your temple and it causes you to look up at him with a smile that only seems to be reserved for him. His hand brushes along the back of your shoulder as you snuggle up close to him.

“Hi, cowboy,” you whisper.

“Hey, baby. You havin’ fun?”

You nod, moving your hands to rest over his lap. “I’m gonna sing.”

“You’re what?”

“Alright, who’s next?!” Someone exclaims, holding the microphone in the air. Joel looks down at you, eyes slightly wide and his head shaking already. You stand up and raise your arm in the air, grinning down at Joel who looks visibly shocked and concerned.

“Baby, what are you doin’?”

“I told you—I’m gonna sing.” You walk over to the front stage and take the microphone, swaying slightly on your feet as you point at Joel. “This song… It’s dedicated to my man over there.”

The entire table hollers and cheers, causing Joel’s cheek to heat up as he clears his throat uncomfortably. Everyone’s looking at him now, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. My man—a sense of pride pools in the pit of his stomach as you announce to possibly the entire town who you belong to and the corner of his lips lift upwards.

Tommy and Ellie look over in his direction, grinning to themselves at the look on Joel’s face. He shifts in his seat when the music starts to play—How Do I Live by LeAnn Rimes—he knows that song anywhere and he feels his breath catch in his throat. He doesn’t know if you can sing, but that doesn’t matter. The words of the song—the meaning behind it—shakes him and has the tips of his fingers itching to reach out for you.

Because yes, he loves you too.

So fucking much that it scares him.

Just as much as it scares you.

“Joel, baby,” you begin, your voice echoing throughout the entire Tipsy Bison. “I just want you to know that I love you. Have loved you… and will always love you. So, this is for you.”

You grip the microphone—liquid courage coursing through your veins. All you can see is Joel and everyone else just fades into the background. You just told this man that you loved him for the first time in front of the entire town and it terrifies you—what that means now—and the possibility of ever losing him.

How do I Get through one night without you If I had to live without you What kind of life would that be?

Joel’s brows shoot upwards at the sound of your voice filtering the entire room. You can sing and it just makes his heart beat even faster. He feels Ellie gently wrap a hand on his shoulder and he brings his own hand to rest over it. Momentarily glancing away from you and to the younger girl, he smiles—truly smiles—and Ellie whispers.

“Holy fuck, she can sing.”

“M’surprised too,” he answers.

“Now you have to sing too.”

Joel bites the inside of his cheek and shrugs, pulling his eyes away from Ellie to look back at you as you continue singing. Your eyes never leave him and he can see the way it glistens with unshed tears.

How do I live without you? I want to know How do I breathe without you if you ever go? How do I ever, ever survive? How do I, how do I, oh, how do I live?

You slowly walk over to him and Joel straightens up in his seat. His eyes move along your frame and once you’re close enough, he reaches out for your hand and you take it without hesitation. Slowly moving to sit on his lap, arm draping over his shoulder, you continue to sing as you stare directly into his eyes.

Without you, there'd be no sun in my sky There would be no love in my life There'd be no world left for me

Joel’s arm wraps around your waist as he keeps his eyes focused solely on yours. He wasn’t usually the type of person who liked to publicly display any kind of affection, but right now, he doesn’t care. He’s fueled by those three words that have since echoed in his mind—you love him too.

Please, tell me, baby How do I go on if you ever leave? Baby, you would take away everything, I need you with me Baby, don't you know that you're everything good in my life? And tell me now

He reaches up with his free hand to cup your cheek as a fallen tear slides down your cheek and hits his thumb. Joel nods in understanding as he stares into your eyes—he knows you’re scared too, knows now what this means. The fear of losing you to this world—it scares him too.

How do I live without you? I want to know How do I breathe without you if you ever go How do I ever, ever survive? How do I, how do I, oh, how do I live? How do I live without you? How do I live without you, baby? How do I live?

The song slowly comes to an end as you lower the microphone to wrap both arms around him, burying your face against the crook of his neck. Joel smiles to himself and holds you tightly to him, hand slowly rubbing your back as the microphone is taken from you.

“Well, that’s gonna be hard to top,” someone says with a quiet chuckle, speaking into the microphone. “You’re one lucky sonofabitch, Joel.”

Joel nods in his direction before he gently pulls back to look at you, hand still cupping your cheek. “That was one surprise,” he whispers. Everyone else’s attention diverts away from the two of you once another person begins singing.

“I blame it on that second glass of wine,” you smile nervously. “And you don’t have to say it back. I just—”

Joel interrupts you by leaning in to press his lips softly against yours. “You amaze me, y’know that?” he mumbles, pulling away slowly.

“Why didn’t you tell us you could sing?!” Ellie exclaims and you climb off Joel’s lap to sit back in your seat next to him. She’s grinning at you, arm draped over the back of Dina’s chair. “Now you and Joel definitely need to start a band.”

“Well, he doesn’t sing,” you tease, leaning back against him. “At least that’s what he tells me.”

“He’s lying. He sang for me once.”

“Ellie—” Joel begins.

“Oh, he did?” you ask, brow arching. “Was he any good?”

“You know, he didn’t sound like shit.” Both you and Ellie erupt into a fit of giggles and Joel can’t help but smile to himself. Despite him being the main center of the teasing, he didn’t mind. You and Ellie had always gotten along and having you move in with them just made everything feel complete—like you had been the missing puzzle piece in both of their lives.

“He used to sing all the time,” Tommy chimes in, grinning over at Joel. “He always had a guitar draped around him, singing songs he’s made up… All the girls loved it. Ain’t that right, big brother?”

Joel rolls his eyes as he brings the glass of beer to his lips and takes a long swig. “That was a long time ago.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that you’ve sung for other girls, but you can’t sing for me?” you tease, biting your lower lip.

“Ain’t like that,” Joel answers.

“And why’s that?”

“Because he loves you,” Tommy and Ellie say simultaneously. “Those girls—he just wanted to sleep with ‘em. But you… Well, you’re different,” Tommy adds.

You grin broadly, staring up at Joel who won’t meet your eyes. You lean up and gently kiss his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder. You finish your glass of wine and Joel finishes his beer. He kisses the crown of your head and stands up from the table, pointing at the drinks.

“I’ll get us all a refill.” Joel squeezes your shoulder and disappears into the crowd to walk towards the bar. He glances over his shoulder to see your attention focused on Dina and Ellie, laughing to yourself as he feels a pang in his chest. He knows he has to sing and there’s a lingering nervousness that sits in his belly. Joel walks over to the emcee of the event and whispers into his ear, the younger man grinning and nodding.

After a few minutes, the music stops abruptly and the lights dim until it shines only on the front stage. With a shaky breath, Joel steps onto the stage and takes a seat at the stool, reaching for the guitar as he looks down at it. This was his comfort zone—playing guitar and singing.

“Oh shit, it’s Joel,” Ellie whispers.

Your eyes widen and you look over at the stage, the light illuminating his presence as he adjusts the microphone in front of him. Then, he speaks into it.

“Guess I can’t have my girl showin’ me up,” he says with a quiet chuckle, his voice filtering the room. “So, baby, this is for you. I know it ain’t easy loving me, but I thank God every day that you do.” Joel begins plucking the strings on the guitar expertly, a small smile lining his lips. “And I just—I want you to know I love you, baby. More than you’ll ever know. You and Ellie—you saved me.”

Joel leans back and away from the microphone to take a deep breath, his fingers moving along the guitar as he glances down to watch what he’s doing. You glance over at Ellie who’s grinning so broadly as she reaches for your hand and you squeeze it tightly. Tears sting your eyes as you watch him, his singing voice now echoing the entirety of the Tipsy Bison.

I can't count the times I almost said what's on my mind But I didn't And just the other day I wrote down all the things I'd say But I couldn't I just couldn't Baby I know that you've been wondering Mmm, so here goes nothing

Joel then looks up to lock eyes with you. His lips lift upwards as he continues to play the guitar, continues to sing. Everything else around him but you fades into the background and all he can see is you.

In case you didn't know Baby I'm crazy bout you And I would be lying if I said That I could live this life without you Even though I don't tell you all the time You had my heart a long long time ago In case you didn't know

Joel doesn’t look away from you. The smile that lines his lips remains, his dimple on his right cheek appearing almost instantly. He’s overcome with so much emotion and he wants so badly just to take you away from here and back home to give you the love and care you deserve.

All of the things that I've been feeling Mmm, it's time you hear em You've got all of me I belong to you Yeah, you're my everything

Joel continues singing as he now sheds a couple of tears. He continues to pluck the strings of the guitar until the end of the song and the lights turn back on. Everyone in the Tipsy Bison stands up and claps as he sets the guitar back on its stand, his ears and cheeks burning up at the sight of praise everyone in the town is giving him.

He pockets his hands into his jacket as he steps off the stage and walks directly towards you. You stand from the chair and meet him half way, arms immediately snaking around his neck as Joel pulls his hands out of his pockets to rest on your waist. You stand on your toes and peck his lips, hands running through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I love you, baby,” Joel whispers.

“Take me home?” you ask quietly, holding him close to you.

“Yeah, let’s go home. I did promise you a ride,” he smirks.

Both you and Joel don’t get home until an hour later—not wanting to look suspicious amongst the rest of the group. The lingering touches, the soft kisses in between… Joel needed you just as badly as you needed him. Ellie had told the both of you that she would be spending the night at Dina’s, giving you and Joel much needed uninterrupted time.

The moment you both walk inside, Joel pulls you to him, arms snaking around your waist as he lowers his head to press his lips firmly against your own. You whimper against his lips, feeling him walk you further back to the couch until the back of your knees hit the soft cushions. Pulling away from him briefly, you look up at him and turn him around, hands pressing firmly on his chest as you push gently.

Joel falls back against the couch with a quiet grunt, legs spreading wide as his hand reaches for your own. Gently tugging you down, you straddle his hips and wrap your arms loosely around his shoulders.

“So, you love me, huh?” you tease, rolling your hips against his own as you brush your lips against his.

“Yeah, baby,” Joel grunts. “I love you… so fuckin’ much.”

You grin, fingers carding through his hair as you feel his hardened bulge beneath you. A quiet moan escapes you as you close your eyes. “I love you too, Joel.”

He growls at that and brings one hand to your hair, pulling you against him as his lips crash against your own. Joel moves his lips urgently against your own—messy and rushed, desperate and fueled by need, by relief that you feel the same way he does. His other hand rests on your hip, gripping it tightly as he darts his tongue out to flick against the roof of your mouth. You gasp and feel his tongue slide past your lips, tangling it with your own.

You reach down to bunch up your skirt to your waist, the wetness pooling between your legs and staining your panties. You brush your clothed sex against the fabric of his jeans, his bulge hard and prominent underneath you. He growls and moves the hand from your hip to your ass, squeezing it tightly into his palm as he urges you to rub against him faster… harder.

You pull on his hair, causing his lips to pull away from yours as you stare at him. Dark eyes filled with lust stare right back at you as you tug on his hair again, causing him to tilt his head back, exposing the length of his neck down to his chest. You let out a quiet groan, leaning in to brush your lips across his jawline and down to his neck. Joel’s eyes flutter as he keeps his hand entangled in your hair, feeling your teeth graze his skin.

“Fuck,” Joel whimpers. “Gonna cream my fuckin’ pants if you don’t take me out right now and sit on it,” he growls.

A loud gasp escapes your lips as you gently bite down on the side of his neck, wrapping your lips around the mark and sucking roughly. He bucks his hips into your own and tightens his grip around your hair to pull you back and away from him. He stares up at you, licking his lower lip hungrily. Joel feels you move back against his knees, giving you enough space to reach down and undo the button and zipper on his jeans. He lets out a sigh of relief when you lift yourself enough for him to push down his jeans and boxers to his ankles.

You clear your throat at the sight of him—so hard, so girthy, leaking already with precome.

“You wanted to ride a cowboy?” Joel whispers lowly. “Then take me for a ride, baby.” He reaches down and pushes your panties to the side, running the tip of his finger along the length of your sex. He growls to himself, a smirk lining his lips at the feel of your wetness. “Oh, baby—I’m gonna slide right on in, ain’t I?”

You nod, lifting your hips and taking a hold of his length. You stare deeply into his eyes as you brush the head of his member against your sex, eyes fluttering at the feel of him brushing against your opening. “J—Joel…”

“I got you, baby,” Joel nods, hands placed on your hips as he slowly lowers you onto him.

Once he breaches your opening—the fat tip of his length sliding into your tight, wet heat—your eyes flutter, forcing your eyes to remain open. “I love you,” you whisper breathlessly, slamming your hips down firmly against his own as he fills you to the brim. Your hands move to his chest, gripping the fabric of his flannel as you stare into his eyes.

“T—This might be my new favorite position,” Joel groans as you begin to lift your hips only to slide back down onto him. His hands move to your ass, gripping each cheek tightly in each hand as he guides you along his length. “Fuck, look at you…”

You lean forward—forearms resting on his chest as you begin to bounce along his length. Every time you come down, he feels deeper and bigger. You can feel how wet you are, how easy it is to move up and down his girthy manhood. His fingertips dig into the flesh of your ass as he tilts his head back against the couch, your breasts bouncing from beneath the fabric of your fitted white t-shirt. As you slam yourself down onto him, you feel the hair at his base brush against your clit. Yearning for more friction, you lean back and rest one hand on his chest and the other on his knee as your hips roll forward and backward.

“Oh f—fuck,” Joel growls, eyes staring at your movements. He can feel the pit of his stomach tighten as your walls tremble against his throbbing length. “That’s it, baby… Fuckin’ use me…”

“Joel!” you moan loudly, the feeling of being so full of him as his hair at his base tickles your clit repeatedly bringing you closer and closer to the edge of release. Your eyes fall shut as the hold on his flannel tightens. “Oh god, baby… I—I’m gonna—”

Joel growls lowly and sits upright, leaning forward as his arms wrap around your waist. He keeps you firmly held against him as he pushes his hips forward once you roll your hips into him, the tip of his length hitting your cervix just right. You release his hold on his knee and flannel, wrapping your arms around his shoulders tightly as your body shakes with the orgasm that overtakes you. You can feel your arousal dripping onto him and he reaches down to lift your hips just slightly to give him enough room to piston his hips into you.

“Fuck, baby…” Joel groans, burying his face against your chest as the sound of his balls slapping against you once he thrusts repeatedly into you echoes throughout the entire house. “You feel so fuckin’ good—like you were made for me… This pussy—it’s fuckin’ mine.”

Joel feels your breasts bounce against his face as he slams your hips down firmly onto his lap in time with his thrust upwards. You can feel his come paint your walls, filling you warmly as he shudders against you. He rolls your hips forward and backward slowly, panting heavily against your chest. You keep a tight hold on his shoulders, hands playing with his curls at the back of his head as you breathe heavily—body still sensitive and trembling.

Joel slowly ceases your movements and pulls back to look up at you—a dazed and truly fucked look on your face with a small smile lining your lips.

“I think I like riding you,” you whisper, leaning in to peck his lips.

“I think I like you ridin’ me too,” he agrees as his hand comes up to rest on your cheek.

“I love you, Joel,” you say quietly.

“I love you too, baby,” he answers without hesitation. “Forever sounds really good with you,” Joel admits.

“Yeah,” you smile. “Yeah, it does.”

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astrolook · 2 months ago

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🚀✨Jupiter’s Transit: Time for a Glow-Up or a Wake-Up! 💫👀

Note: These are my personal observations and patterns I've noticed over the years, so take what resonates and leave the rest. Let me know in the comments if this hits home! This is based on Vedic astrology, so it might feel different from other systems. These are general interpretations and would change according to what planets are in those houses. 😊✨

Jupiter enters Gemini on May 14, 2025, and will stay there until October 18, 2025. After that, it briefly moves into Cancer for a couple of months. This post will focus on the May 14, 2025 - October 18, 2025, Gemini transit. Just 2 days to go! Also, long post!

For Aries Ascendant, Jupiter will transit your 3rd house and aspect your 7th, 9th, and 11th houses.

3rd House: Expect a lot of short trips, new friendships, and opportunities to get your voice heard. It’s a great time to make purchases in your favor, meet new people, or even consider a move to a new place. If you have a sibling, your bond can grow closer.

7th House: This aspect could bring new romances into your life. For those focused on their career, it’s a favorable time for partnerships and receiving local support in your professional endeavors. If you wanna start a business or any career change, Jupiter will widen your horizons and says YES! GO FOR IT!

9th House: Jupiter’s aspect here may open doors for foreign travel, higher education, or trading. Moving abroad or going on faraway vacations could also be on the horizon.

11th House: Expansion of your social circle is likely. Great connections are on the way, along with more time spent online learning new things. If you’re considering online courses, this is an excellent time. It’s also a good period for starting a YouTube channel, podcast, or live-streaming (especially gaming, if that’s your thing). For bloggers and influencers, expect positive growth. Long-distance relationships may also blossom during this time.

For Taurus Ascendant, Jupiter will transit your 2nd house, with aspects to your 6th, 8th, and 10th houses.

2nd House: This transit can bring potential financial growth, including gains through family, property, or selling goods. If you’re in sales or business, this is a great time to boost your income. There’s strong potential for accumulating wealth, but Jupiter here can also make you spend freely, so watch your expenses. Investments and savings both have long-term benefits now.

6th House: If you’ve been struggling in your career or are unemployed, this aspect can bring job opportunities or helpful connections. For those in toxic work environments, things may either get worse (pushing you to make a change) or finally shift for the better. Students may find career-related support or internships opening up.

8th House: This aspect may spark interest in the occult, hidden knowledge, or taboo subjects. It’s a good time to explore deeper topics, but also a warning to be mindful in intimate relationships, as Sagittarius in the 8th can bring sudden, intense connections, including risks like STDs. Prioritize your well-being.

10th House: This is a very positive influence for your career. Whether you're employed or self-employed, growth and recognition are possible. It's also a great time to pursue learning, training, or certifications that support your professional path.

For Gemini Ascendant, Jupiter will transit your 1st house, with aspects to your 5th, 7th, and 9th houses.

1st House: This transit can bring positive shifts in how you see yourself and how others see you. It’s a great time for personal growth, confidence, and visibility. You may be drawn to leadership or management roles. However, Jupiter can also make you overextend, like taking on too much or indulging too often, especially with food or stress, so take care of your health and energy. Your voice holds power now, so use it wisely.

5th House: A great time for creative pursuits and reigniting old passions. If you've been waiting to start something artistic or expressive, this is your cue. For those married and hoping to conceive, this transit is favorable for a healthy pregnancy. Romantically, new connections may enter your life, some with long-term potential. Dating might feel overwhelming or rewarding depending on how you approach it.

7th House: Partnerships, romantic or professional, can flourish now. Trustworthy collaborators may appear, and serious relationships can begin or strengthen. It’s a good time for making commitments.

9th House: Opportunities for long-distance travel, higher education, or working with international clients may arise. Some may consider moving in with a partner, eloping, or planning a destination wedding. Spiritually and mentally, it’s also a time of expansion and learning. You can even get your voice heard through activism or supporting the unfortunate.

For Cancer Ascendant, Jupiter will transit your 12th house, with aspects to the 4th, 6th, and 8th houses.

12th House: This is a deeply spiritual and reflective time. You may feel drawn to solitude, healing, or even exploring or settling in foreign lands. It's a period of inner growth, dreams, and gaining insight into your future. However, it's not ideal for new commitments in love or business. Some may experience endings, like breakups or divorces, but these can ultimately feel freeing and bring long-awaited closure or peace.

4th House: Expect improvements in home and family life. You might spend more quality time with loved ones or invest in property, furniture, or home upgrades. Emotional bonds with family members, especially children, can deepen. Inheritance or family wealth may also come into the picture.

6th House: This aspect can stir up emotions at work or in school environments. Challenges may arise through hidden enemies or betrayal, so stay alert and guard your energy. This aspect can teach you who’s truly on your side. At the same time, it can push you to improve your daily habits and health routines.

8th House: Sudden gains, inheritance, or exposure to deep, transformative topics are possible. You might find yourself drawn to occult studies, psychology, or unconventional communities (like spiritual groups, support circles, etc.). Take care of your mental health, as emotional intensity may rise; this can be a time of healing or overwhelm, depending on how you handle it.

For Leo Ascendant, Jupiter will transit your 11th house, with aspects to the 3rd, 5th, and 7th houses.

11th House: This is a great time for expanding your reach and being seen. Whether you’re into blogging, YouTube, podcasting, activism, or social reform, you could gain more visibility and even grow your follower base. People may see you as a leader or someone with wisdom and clarity. Your goals feel more achievable now, and support from influential circles is likely.

3rd House: Expect stronger local connections and support. You might spend more time with siblings, friends, or in your neighborhood, or even move to a new area. Social outings like restaurants, concerts, shopping, or clubs could increase. Communication improves, and networking opportunities grow.

5th House: A great time for dating, romance, and creative expression. You may get into new hobbies, watch a lot of films, or explore your artistic side. If you’ve been wanting to start a passion project or even learn something new, like a language or coding, this is the time. It's also a positive aspect for pregnancy or planning a child.

7th House: Jupiter’s aspect here can bring serious romantic prospects or deepen an existing relationship. In a career, it’s a good time for forming partnerships or collaborations that have long-term potential.

For Virgo Ascendant, Jupiter will transit your 10th house, with aspects to the 2nd, 4th, and 6th houses.

10th House: This is a powerful time for your career. Jupiter here can bring recognition, promotions, or the opportunity to start something new, like a business, blog, or startup. If you’re job hunting, you may land a role with better pay and visibility. Leadership skills are highlighted, and others may start seeing you as a figure of authority or inspiration. Big moves in your professional life are very possible.

2nd House: This aspect supports financial growth, especially through career opportunities. It’s a good time to focus on saving, investing, and building long-term financial stability.

4th House: Favorable for real estate, relocating, or investing in your home. You may also feel emotionally more connected to family, and it's a good time to nurture those relationships, especially if you're younger or living with family.

6th House: New work connections are likely, especially with people from different backgrounds or fields. Some of these may be valuable allies, others not so much. Stay discerning, especially in competitive or high-pressure environments.

For Libra Ascendant, Jupiter will transit your 9th house, with aspects to your 1st, 3rd, and 5th houses.

9th House: This transit opens doors to foreign connections, clients, and opportunities to earn through international means. You might find yourself speaking or learning another language, traveling, or engaging with global platforms. It’s a great time for higher learning, spiritual growth, or expanding your worldview.

1st House: Expect a boost in self-confidence and presence. If you’ve been feeling low in self-worth, this aspect can help restore a sense of purpose and pride. You might also feel inspired to invest more in yourself, like your appearance, goals, or personal development.

3rd House: Your voice carries farther now, literally and figuratively. Whether it’s writing, singing, or speaking, this is a powerful time to share your ideas. Travel or relocation could also be on the table. If you’ve ever wanted to turn writing or music into a career, this aspect supports that.

5th House: Creative energy flows in, rewarding past efforts and reigniting passions. You may finally get recognition for the work you’ve done in previous years. It’s also a great time to start new hobbies or creative pursuits that could eventually evolve into a profession.

For Scorpio Ascendant, Jupiter will transit your 8th house, with aspects to the 12th, 2nd, and 4th houses.

8th House: This transit can bring sudden events, like unexpected inheritance or money, deep transformations, or even going viral (for better or worse). You may feel drawn to explore intense topics like human suffering, psychology, or the hidden layers of life. Toxic relationships may fall away, making space for new partnerships that could also become an additional source of income. It’s a powerful time for healing and reclaiming your worth.

12th House: This aspect may trigger deep introspection or even an existential crisis. You might feel low or isolated at times, but solitude here brings growth, not punishment. It's a good time for spiritual work, rest, and understanding your inner self on a whole new level.

2nd House: Financial gains through foreign currency or foreigners, joint investments, or property sales are possible. This is a favorable time for managing finances, especially in areas involving partnerships or passive income.

4th House: Unconventional people may enter your personal life, whether as romantic partners or collaborators, your family ends up embracing. You could be drawn to alternative lifestyles, such as age-gap relationships, interracial relationships, same-sex partnerships, minimalist living, or even being a stay-at-home partner.

For Sagittarius Ascendant, Jupiter will transit your 7th house, with aspects to the 11th, 1st, and 3rd houses.

7th House: This is a major green light for serious relationships. You may meet a potential life partner, enter long-term romantic or business partnerships, or experience more balance and success in existing ones. You could find yourself taking the lead in partnerships or attracting people who elevate your status and growth.

11th House: A great time for expanding your social network, especially online. You may join new communities, explore different cultures, or form valuable friendships and connections, even if some are short-term. This is also a highly supportive period for launching an online-based business or side hustle. Expect opportunities to gain profits and stand out in digital spaces.

1st House: You’ll feel more driven to take life seriously and commit to long-term goals. This aspect can bring a shift in self-image, responsibility, and how others perceive you. Confidence gets a boost, and there may be a change in status, personally or professionally.

3rd House: You might find yourself living in a multicultural setting or becoming friends with people from a wide range of backgrounds. Hobbies like online gaming, content creation, or language learning could lead to new connections. This is a fun and stimulating time to express yourself and explore new interests.

For Capricorn Ascendant, Jupiter will transit your 6th house, with aspects to the 10th, 12th, and 2nd houses.

6th House: This transit highlights health, work, and daily routines. If you’ve been struggling with health issues, there’s potential for recovery, but if you’ve been neglecting your health, Jupiter might amplify existing problems. It’s also a mixed bag for your career, as some may face setbacks or job loss, while others could land new roles or promotions. Consistency and discipline will be key.

10th House: This aspect brings momentum in your professional life. It’s a good time for job hunting, career changes, or stepping into leadership, but expect a few early delays or challenges. Boss moves are possible if you stay focused and don’t give up.

12th House: This can be a heavy emotional time. Feelings of loneliness, isolation, or endings (like breakups or divorces) might surface. But Jupiter here is trying to teach you that solitude can be healing. You’ll realize your inner strength and learn how to stand on your own. Be cautious with health and travel issues, like back pain, overexertion, or travel-related stress or accidents may arise. Hospitalization is possible if you're not careful.

2nd House: Finances may fluctuate. Jupiter expands whatever it touches, so if you’re doing well, expect more gains; if you’re struggling, it can exaggerate losses. Budget wisely and save for the future to stay grounded.

For Aquarius Ascendant, Jupiter will transit your 5th house, with aspects to the 9th, 11th, and 1st houses.

5th House: A vibrant time for creativity, self-expression, and passion projects. Whether you’re pursuing a career in the arts, media, sports, or any field that makes you stand out, this is your moment to shine. Applause and recognition may come your way. It’s also a favorable time for pregnancy, romantic interests, and being admired for your talents.

9th House: Opens doors to international opportunities, foreign clients, studying abroad, or spiritual exploration. You might start trading in foreign currency, connect with teachers or mentors abroad, or even enter a long-distance relationship that brings growth.

11th House: Expands your network, especially with people from different cultures or backgrounds. Touring, cultural exchanges, learning a new language, or engaging in online platforms can be rewarding. If you’re in a digital or online-based career, this aspect supports major growth.

1st House: Jupiter’s blessing to your ascendant boosts your confidence, personal growth, and social standing. You may feel more seen, respected, and aligned with your purpose. It’s a time to take yourself seriously, and others will too.

For Pisces Ascendant, Jupiter will transit your 4th house, with aspects to the 8th, 10th, and 12th houses.

4th House: This transit brings emotional focus to home, family, and your sense of inner peace. You may reconnect deeply with loved ones or feel the need to cut ties with toxic family dynamics. It’s a great time to support and care for your close circle but be mindful of emotional overwhelm. Buying property or making your living space more comfortable is also likely.

8th House: Some may face sudden shifts in family members' health or even loss in rare cases. This aspect also stirs deep introspection and curiosity about the hidden or taboo, think therapy, occult, or healing work.

10th House: Favorable for career growth, though it may feel intense or heavy at times. A strong push toward foreign or remote work is likely. You might also take on more responsibilities that push you to step up in your profession.

12th House: Spiritual detachment becomes a theme as you may explore holistic healing, solitude, or unconventional belief systems. Some connections may fall away as you move toward a future more aligned with who you’re becoming. This is also a powerful time to prepare for relocation or engage in meaningful connections abroad.

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luthiensaralonde · 15 days ago

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Gale Dekarios and his respect for women

It has become increasingly common in certain circles of discourse to dismiss Gale Dekarios as an “incel” or to accuse him of misogyny, based primarily on surface-level misinterpretations of his demeanor, his failed romance with Mystra, or his initial "arrogance." However, such takes fall apart when you actually delve into his relationship with women throughout the game. When examined holistically, Gale’s character is not only deeply shaped by his reverence for women, but he is, in many ways, a man defined by them.

Let’s begin with the obvious:

1. Mystra

Gale’s entire identity as a wizard is shaped by his worship of Mystra, the Lady of Mysteries, a goddess who not only governs magic but also represents the divine embodiment of the Weave itself. His desire to please her is not rooted in blind servitude or entitlement, but in reverence, devotion, and a sincere need to be worthy. The rupture in their relationship breaks him (not because he was spurned, but because he failed in her eyes).

Rather than rejecting her divinity in anger, Gale continues to refer to her as his goddess. There is no bitterness, only regret and longing. He blames himself, not her.

2. Morena

Gale proudly claims his mother’s surname, Dekarios. This is not just trivia, it is narrative choice. It speaks volumes about the figure who raised him. We hear nothing about his father and perhaps by design. The person Gale claims, honors, and symbolically identifies with is his mother.

3. Tara

Even Gale’s most loyal companion, Tara, is female. Gale never belittles or dismisses her, but listens to her, even when she challenges him. Their relationship is playful, but deeply respectful.

The idea that a man would form his closest companionship with a magical female creature, one who scolds him and still follows him across Faerûn, hardly aligns with any definition of misogyny. She's basically his second parent.

4. His Dream Guardian

Gale is notably the only origin character who refers to the Dream Guardian as "she". This subtle but significant detail shows how he relates to femininity even in liminal, psychological spaces. It’s not just that he can project a female identity onto the Guardian, it’s that he chooses to.

5. His Reactions to Female NPCs

Take, for instance, the scene with Mayrina. While other characters show skepticism or even irritation toward her plight, Gale immediately expresses concern:

"She's a pregnant lady in distress, we can't just stand by and pretend she's not here."

This moment reveals his instinctive protectiveness and empathy, particularly toward vulnerable women. He doesn’t question her intelligence or her choices, he simply believes she deserves help.

Another subtle but telling scene is with Isobel at the Last Light Inn. Gale’s interactions with her (especially if you let him speak) are marked by concern and measured respect. He doesn't undermine, or try to dominate the conversation. He listens, asks questions, and is genuinely invested.

This probably isn't as important to my point, but I just want to mention his protectiveness/concern for children, most of them in the game, female: Arabella, Mol, Yenna etc.

6. His Respect for Female Companions

Gale’s interactions with the women in the party are often gentler, more complimentary, and emotionally open than those with the male companions. I could list an abundance of dialogue examples, but I'll save that for another post perhaps.

Meanwhile, Gale’s interactions with male companions (like Astarion or Wyll) are often tinged with sarcasm, rivalry, or distance. While not hostile, they lack the warmth and admiration he reserves for women.

With that said, Gale Dekarios is not a perfect man, but he is a profoundly emotional and thoughtful one. His arrogance masks deep insecurity, and his charm belies years of shame, grief, and loneliness. What is undeniable, however, is that women occupy a place of importance in his life, not as objects of conquest, but as guides, caretakers, protectors, friends, and potentially lovers.

To reduce him to an “incel” is to ignore the text in favor of a meme. At the heart of Gale Dekarios lies a deep and abiding reverence for the divine feminine.

To dismiss his love for Mystra as toxic entitlement is to misunderstand heartbreak.

And to overlook the way he trusts, follows, and loves women is to miss the deeper beauty of Gale Dekarios entirely.

#back on my shit again #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 gale #gale bg3 #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate iii #galemancer #meta #bg3 meta #gale dekarios meta #gale mansplains-#SHUT UP #gale loves women #he respects and adores them #go away

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sturnmeovr · 5 months ago

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♡‧₊˚ Babydaddy!Chris x Sweetheart!Reader – Emotional Support

Chris was a mess; it was three in the afternoon, and he was still in bed. Trapped under his thick comforter, hiding away from the sunlight that took over his bedroom. A groan leaves his lip whenever he hears light knocks coming from the other side of his room, “go away!”

“C’mon kid,” Matt jiggles the knob, cracking the door slightly to poke his head in, “you gotta eat something — it’s been three days.” Nick abruptly kicks the bedroom door open with his foot, “you’re gonna eat these mini pizzas we cooked with love, just for you — or Matt is gonna hold you down while I shove them down your throat,” he spits out, stalking across the room and snatching the comfort off of Chris’ curled up figured. Chris fights his hardest to win the tug of war battle, but he loses, practically giving up, due to the lack of energy in his body. You’d think he’d be fully rested with all the 'sleep' he had gotten the last few days, never leaving his memory foam mattress unless his bladder told him he absolutely had to. Chris wasn’t sleeping his days away like his brothers assumed, a lot of the times he was up thinking about you and his unborn son. About how he ruined the only relationship he ever had with the girl who meant the most to him — the girl who was carrying his baby, the girl who he was certain he wanted to marry one day.

The last conversation he had with you, he was telling you how sorry he was, how much he missed you, that he needed you home with him. Your only reply was that you needed more space, so that’s what Chris has been attempting to do. Only problem is — he can’t get you out of his fucking head. Chris often stays up all hours of the night, scrolling through your Instagram or the old snapchat conversations he had saved, looking at the old messages from when everything was normal and okay. He was absolutely gutted; he missed everything about you, and he wished he never took the bond you two shared for granted.

“M’not hungry,” he croaks out, grabbing a pillow to throw over his head in an attempt to block the sunlight that blinds him. Matt lets out a lengthy sigh, “you have to eat something,” taking seat on the edge of Chris’ bed, and rubbing a hand down his back in a soothing manner. It killed him to see Chris in such a sad state, he was usually the life of the party, so it was odd seeing him moping around the house like he had been the last two weeks.

“Chris, seriously,” Nick chimes in, “it’s not the end of the world, kid.” Nick was a bit more insensitive to the situation than Matt because of how close he had gotten with you throughout yours and Chris’s relationship. You were like the little sister they'd never got, when Nick found out about Chris cheating on you, it broke his heart a little bit too. Nick didn’t pick sides, but he definitely showed you more support than he did his own brother. You were pregnant with his nephew for crying out loud. Chris was wrong and he knew that there was no excuse for his actions. Nobody wanted to see Chris in the state of mind he was in, but it wasn’t anyone else’s fault but his own. Nick definitely wasn’t the one to baby him, unlike Matt who loved playing the therapist role to both you and Chris.

Chris dramatically throws his pillow back and glares at Nick, “it is the end of my world, Nick.” Nick rolls his eyes at Chris’ over-exaggerations, he knew you distancing yourself would last long since you were due in a couple weeks. Plus, you had been texting him the whole time you were gone, updating him on your plans and how you felt about the Chris situation. You were at a crossroads, but Nick knew you too well, he knew you'd crack once Chris applied enough pressure like you usually did.

The two brothers share a similar look, biting back smiles at Chris’ dramatics. Matt snatches the pillow away from him, “c'mon you’re getting up.” He tosses the pillow across the room, adding it to the pile of dirty laundry and Chris’ thick comforter. Another groan erupts from Chris’ chest, the mattress making it come out a bit muffled, “I’m not leaving from his bed until my baby momma tells me to.”

“Fine,” Matt huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, “I’ll FaceTime her so she can see how foul you look — seriously, man. I can smell your feet from the next room,” he tells him before tapping a few buttons on his phone. Chris lays there motionless, calling his brothers bluff. He didn’t think Matt would actually FaceTime you but when your voice sounds from the other side of the phone screen, “yes — Chris?” Concern weaved through your words like a tight braid, your tone makes Chris sit upright in one swift movement. As much as he wanted to cry out to you, confessing his true feelings and expressing how sorry he was, he didn’t want you to see him in the state he was in, he knew you'd feel bad. The last thing he wanted was you to be upset over his own fuck up. “What’s wrong with him?” your voice sounded worried. Chris would be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart warm, knowing you still cared made him feel like there was still hope to repair the relationship he damaged so badly.

Matt opens his mouth to speak but Nick quick wittedly cuts him off, “let’s start with the fact that the kid hasn’t showered in days ‘cause he won’t leave his bed,” pinching the bridge of his nose in disgust. Chris knew his brother was just poking fun at him, only trying to lighten the mood by cracking jokes. A long sigh can be heard from your side of the phone, “well if he checked his phone then he’d know I’ve been texting him for over an hour.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Chris' eyes widen and he's scrambling for his phone. He taps his finger against the screen a few times, only to reveal 6 unread messages and 2 missed calls for you. The last one reading - “I miss you 😑”

Overjoyed with emotion, a bright smile forms, making his lips curve upwards. Chris stands up on his bed, tangling a hand thru his brown locks before snatching the phone from Matt, “you want to come over? I can pick you up, we can get dinner on the way,” he rambles on, desperately shooting out any suggestion, hoping and praying you'd take his offer. He didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see you. Your absence left him physically and mentally ill.

“Yeah,” you squint at him, studying his expression. He looked thrilled and exhausted at the same time. Dark circles made their mark underneath his puffy, bloodshot eyes. His hair is messy and tangled like he hadn’t been using the apple scented conditioner you introduced to him while you were gone. Seeing him so unkept broke your heart, but not more than the revelation of him cheating. You shake your head, pushing the negative thoughts to the back of your mind before clearing your throat, “I need to talk to you.”

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

The sight of an all-black, tinted out Audi parked in front of your best friend's house makes you take an uneasy breath — you knew exactly who it was. You sigh loudly, tugging your jacket on to protect you from the cool night air. Your best friend, noticing the hitch in your breath, chimes in from the open living room, “he’s here?”

“Yea,” you breath out, your voice barely audible as you look over at her, “I’ll be back soon. Jus’ gonna get some food and talk for a little.” If it was up to your bestie, she’d lock you up and throw away the key for good, hiding you away from him at all costs. You can tell she’s stopping herself from saying what she really wants to, “be careful and make good choices,” she forces a toothless smile before turning her attention back to the tv. She didn’t want you to go back to Chris; she hated the emotional damage he forced on you, mainly because she was always the one to pick up the pieces once you were shattered and broken. She was a great form of emotional support for you, much like Matt was for Chris. Regardless of anyone else’s opinions on yours and Chris’s relationship, your due date was right around the corner, and you were vulnerable. You couldn’t fathom the idea of raising your newborn son without his father. Each time you thought about it the idea made you sick to your stomach.

You make your way to his car, pulling the passenger door open to reveal your babydaddy. The familiar scent of his cologne sends a chill down your spine, it was comforting in a way. You sink down into the passenger seat, setting the purse he gifted you last week on the floorboard of his car. Chris was determined to win you back. He made sure he still came in clutch whenever you were craving random food combinations, he left presents and takeout food on your best friends' doorstep with cute notes attached to them - “not a gift to win you over, just a gift to show my appreciation” and “Chinese food because I know Bear won’t let you live without it. I miss you. I love you. I’m sorry.” It was sweet how attentive he still was, even if you weren’t one hundred percent present, he still showed he cared and that meant something to you, aside from his prior shitty decisions.

“Hey,” he stretches, a gummy smile plastered on his face. You could tell he was happy to be within a close vicinity of you. You set your eyes on him, taking his appearance; he was freshly showered and doused in his signature, making it obvious he was trying to look his best for you. As weird as it sounds, you missed the smell of him so much that it was always like a new craving for you. He shoots you a playful look, already reading your mind because he knew you that well. “You look good today,” he coos, placing a hand on your thigh to give it a squeeze. His firm grip sends tingles thru your core, his touch was another big thing you had been craving while you two were apart.

You swat his hand away while a dark shade of redness makes its way to your cheeks, making Chris throw his head back to bellow out a laugh, “too soon?” He knew he still had a certain effect on you which is why you never stay around him too long, you’d fold under pressure quick. As much as you wanted to let your smile break thru, there was no time for games. Furrowing your brows at him as you desperately try to hide your red cheeks, “this is serious, Chris — we don’t have time for jokes.”

His smile falls into a slight frown, and he shifts in his seat, “I know that. Sorry, I jus’ miss you.” Chris reaches down into the compartment of his door, pulling out one of your current pregnancy cravings, “I got you gummy bears,” he presses his lips together in an awkward manner. It was weird to him, not being able to touch and kiss you like he used to – like he really wanted to. A mix of emotions swirl through your gut. You felt guilty for putting him through the emotional trauma of not having his nearly due girlfriend by his side, you knew he was worried if you’d come back to him, worried if Bear would come earlier or not. At the same time, it was validating that he cared enough to go through all these lengths just to get you back – camping outside of your best friend's house, showing up with presents and food cravings. The most important part was him actually leaving you alone when you told him you needed more space. It gave you a lot of time to think about your next move. Was Chris texting another girl worth throwing all the work you two put in?

“I miss you too, but that’s not the topic of discussion right now,” you mumble, looking down to your lap, smoothing a hand over your bumps as Bear kicks repeatedly as the sound of Chris' voice, like always. You weren’t there to make Chris feel worse about what he did, your absence was enough to make him sulk in his own sorrows. By the way his brothers had been texting you nonstop about Chris not even getting out of bed to do his bare minimum daily routine, you knew it was time to stop distancing yourself and actually work past the problem, whether it meant going back to him or not.

A faint smile forms at his lips when he hears you finally say you miss him, “you do, really?” One thing about this whole fucked up situation, Chris never failed to expression his emotions. It was a big change for him, but then again, he acted like a new man ever since he found out you were pregnant.

“Of course I do, but that doesn’t —,” you fiddle with the sleeves of your jacket, your small voice getting interrupted by his raspy one, “it doesn’t excuse what I did.” You watch as he gnaws at his bottom lip out of nervousness, his wet hair making water stains on his white t-shirt, “nothing will — I know that, Y/N.”

It was known Chris loved to call you his Sweetheart, so anything less was gut wrenching to you. He was more serious than you had ever seen him. Chris turns his body towards you, his hard gaze fixed on you as his own way of letting you know he meant everything he was about to say, “but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to prove to you that I can be a better man for you and Bear.” His words make their mark on you, making you nod in agreement to everything he was saying. Maybe it was his convincing demeanor or maybe it was because you missed his company. Or maybe it was because he was saying all the right words, telling you everything you wanted and needed to hear. You open your mouth to speak but quickly close it, not knowing what to say, so he does it for you, “I have a therapy consultation later this week,” he starts, clearing his throat before he reassures you once more, “I’m willing to do whatever it takes – however long it takes, seriously.”

You raise a brow at him, staying quiet as your thoughts run rampant through your head, picking at the skin on your fingers as you try to muster up a response. Therapy; he was willing to go through therapy if it meant keeping his relationship afloat and his family together. Chris can practically hear the gears turning in your head. He knew you were thinking carefully, going through all the possible outcomes, and weighing out the future, not only for your relationship but for your unborn son. Chris watches intently as you pick at your fingers, he had picked up on the nervous habit of yours a long time ago. He knew you too well. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and stop you from damaging yourself any further, but he knew it wasn’t the right time. Hot tears brim the waterlines of your eyes, you suck in a deep breath before looking at him, your mouth gaping open to speak but the words get stuck in the back of your throat once again.

You could see the pain in his eyes as he watches you struggle to speak, his voice lower than before, “I don’t want to miss anything.” He sniffles, a stray tear escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek, only to get whipped away by Chris’ large hand rather quickly. The sight of him crumbling in front of you made your heart ache, you knew what he was implying, he didn’t want to miss out on fatherhood or the chance at a picture-perfect family. You didn’t blame him; you wanted Bear to grow up in a two-parent household as badly as he did. Both you and Chris knew nothing other than being raised by two amazing parents, and that was a long-term goal for the two of you. A family, marriage, a few pets, and a big house on a large plot of land built specifically for your family; it was something you talked about and planned with him for the last eight months. The thought of letting go of all those dreams and goals you and Chris shared together made you queasy.

He sucks in a breath, “fuck – sorry, I told myself I wasn’t gonna do this in front of you,” letting out a deep breath and pulling sleeves over his hands to collect the tears spilling from his eyes. You sink back in your seat, his outburst felt like he drove a stake right thru your heart, he had never been this open with you. Of course, he expressed how badly he wanted you back and how sorry he was, but he never broke down crying and pleading for you back. The therapy consultation just topped it off, he was willing to work through his faults for his family. You look over at Chris, his body hunched forward while his head is buried in his hands, his wet hair still making water marks on his white t-shirt.

“I’ll come home,” your voice is shaky and your hands tremble. Chris picks up his head in one swift movement, fixing those icy blue arctics on you. He wipes his face, sniffling once more, “you will? Y’really mean it?” His words come out pushed together as he fights back his sobs. You nod to him, holding your index finger up, “under one condition.”

Chris’ eyes are puffy, his face red from crying, “anything – anything you want – y'name it.” The urgency in his voice tells you he’s serious, “I’ll sleep on the couch, diaper duty forever – anything, sweetheart.” He lets his intrusive thoughts win by scooping your hand up, interlocking your fingers and bringing it up to his mouth to plant a light kiss to the back of it. The feather-like feeling of his lips leaves goosebumps on your arms and a pool forming between your thighs, you bite back the smile pulling at your lips before looking him in the eye seriously, “couples therapy.”

wc - 3163

♡‧₊˚ Cheys Note - Long awaited 🫣 I'm so sorry, I rewrote this twice and I still don't know if I like it or not 😩😩 I hope you guys enjoy, though!! Name reveal coming soon if you guys haven't figured it out already 😋😋🫶🏻 Lmk what you guys think, I apologized in advance to everyone I pissed off with this one lmfaoo. Love you guys <3

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onepieceisreeeeaaalll · 2 months ago

Text

Just Desserts - Chapter 1 (Sanji x Fem!Reader)

PHEW - I'm tired. I've been trying to work on this for weeks. One of those things where I started it as a smaller idea and it just kind of exploded, and then I was overthinking. I'm only planning two chapters for this, but it could expand into more.

Summary: Sanji left without so much as a goodbye. You've had to pick up the pieces, to have faith in your crew who've gone off to Whole Cake to retrieve him. It's not easy dealing with the loneliness, especially in a new and strange land like Wano.

CW: JEALOUSY; NSFW (fingers, light smut, heavy petting); Hurt/Comfort; Angst; (Heavier/full smut planned in Part 2); Established relationship

Check out my masterlist if you like stuff like this!

~4.7k

In the time that Sanji had been gone for Whole Cake, you had been left behind in Zou to travel onward to Wano, much to your disappointment. You wanted to come more than anything - of course you did. Sanji was your everything, your entire world - the oceans would cease their tides and the stars would halt their sparkling without him in your life. You insisted - really, begged - for Luffy to bring you with him. While he was fine with it, Nami had pulled you aside to convince you otherwise.

”If you come with us, all you’ll do is worry Sanji sick over your safety.”

“But I could convince him to come back.” You pleaded, your eyes prickling with tears and voice thick with emotion. “I can—“

”Sanji will come back.” Nami smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear gently. “He will. And he’ll do it without worrying about you. Okay? Just let us handle it.”

You knew Nami was right. Not only would it be hard on Sanji to know you were fighting with your life on the line to bring him home, but the stakes alone would be enough to distract you. If you went off to Whole Cake - an Emperor’s territory otherwise unprovoked - there was no guarantee you wouldn’t throw your life away just to save Sanji from whatever fate he held so close to his chest. Nami knew that as well as you did. Whatever Sanji was going through, you’d have to trust in Luffy to snap him out of it. So, despite your reservations, you stuck with the rest of the crew to make the journey to Wano.

The sun had all but lost its warmth, and even the funniest jokes Usopp or Franky could provide did little to help. You’d smile, you’d laugh, but it’d only go as far as your lips, not lighting your eyes up in the way the crew had become familiar with. Eventually, you stopped laughing and smiling altogether. Robin had taken note of the way you kept your distance even in shared spaces, and if it weren’t for how quietly you cried yourself to sleep at night, she’d have stepped in herself to ask about how you were handling being separated from Sanji. You had made it clear that the topic was off-limits. Even just the mention of Sanji’s name would shut you down, so the crew found it prudent to give you the space to deal with it the way you saw fit.

Zoro didn’t have as much tact.

You were leaning against the cool wall of the Polar Tang, your eyes locked on the ocean that passed by a porthole. You weren’t sure if you were grateful for the Heart Pirate’s hospitality or dreading the fact that this meant you’d have to be miles below the surface until arriving at Wano. As romantically vain as it felt, not being able to see the same moon as Sanji only made things worse, and you were sure it wasn’t doing any favors for your mood. While you were lost in thought, reminiscing on memories you knew weren’t good for you, the swordsman took his place next to you against the wall. Your eyes were trained on a large school of fish swimming past the porthole, but you could see his large frame perched next to yours in the reflection of the glass.

Neither of you spoke for a long moment. Until your crewmate finally opened his mouth.

”Thinking about curly brows, huh?”

Great. An emotional conversation with Zoro was rare, and when they happened, they were never fun. You weren’t in the mood to talk about Sanji, much less talk to Zoro about Sanji. Of all people, this seemed like the worst one to finally address the elephant in the room.

“You don’t have to-“

”Captain told me to look after everyone.” Zoro interrupted you, his tone gruff and leaving no room for argument. “It’s obviously bothering you. You’re not fooling anyone..”

You let out a huff at his words, trying to abate the indignation settling in your chest. You opened your mouth to argue that you weren’t trying to fool anyone, but your mouth shut almost immediately. Zoro’s stubborn nature and dedication to Luffy was going to draw some stupid, emotional things out of you that you really had been working to push down. You cast a sidelong glance at him before returning your eyes to the porthole. You didn’t respond, because there was nothing to say. Zoro didn’t speak, either. The two of you just sat in silence, until eventually you left your spot and the swordsman went his own way.

After that point, you noticed how Zoro would almost…hover. It was unlike him. You’d go to the galley, he’d take a seat next to you; you’d try to distract yourself with reading, and he’d somehow find his way in the same room as you, cleaning his blades or taking a nap against a wall. Nothing was ever exchanged, and while you were sure it wasn’t a coincidence of a small ship and a larger-than-usual crew aboard, you refused to acknowledge it. Acknowledgment meant confrontation, and confrontation meant the potential to have your lofty mourning period interrupted.

The final straw was when you volunteered to do some tasks for Law around the ship, and Zoro had met you every step of the way. He had outright refused chores up until this point, so all subtlety of his following you had clearly gone out the porthole. You couldn't even pretend to ignore it anymore, because it was so irritatingly obvious. You were working on stocking some kind of cabinet with gauze and bandages when you heard Zoro enter the room, the clacking of his swords on his hip snapping any sort of patience you had maintained. An aggravated groan escaped your lips as he approached the bin of supplies next to you, his arm brushing against yours.

”What is with you?” You snapped, turning to look at Zoro with a searing glare.

The swordsman didn’t bother meeting your eyes, instead busying himself with putting away the packets of gauze. Rather sloppily, too. He was basically just tossing them into the drawers with a flick of his wrist and no care for where they landed.

”You keep avoiding everyone and moping around, and I’m not going to let you.” He replied.

He made it sound so…so simple. Like there wasn’t even a second thought behind it. For some reason, that kind of compassion set you off. Wasn’t it clear that you just wanted to be left alone? To grieve the fact that your boyfriend wasn’t here, could quite possibly never come back, and lament that you didn’t tag along to save him? You grit your teeth, snatching the gauze from him that he so haphazardly put away.

”Well, if you’re going to stalk me, at least do the damn chores you volunteer for properly.” You retorted, shoving the gauze into the drawers with more care than he had. “I don’t need a babysitter. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

Zoro huffed, and you could tell he was annoyed. Good. Maybe he’d leave you alone.

He took a few steps back, leaning against a nearby desk as he watched you put away the rest of the gauze and bandages. Zoro didn’t bother disrupting your process. You seemed like you had it handled.

”I’m not going to hear the end of it from either my Captain or that shit cook if they come back and you’re a wreck.” He finally said, his hands resting on the hilts of his swords casually. “Talk about it, don’t talk about it - I don’t care. But you’re not going to isolate yourself from the crew.”

You were almost touched - almost - but that familiar pang in your chest rose up at the mention of Sanji. You were just grateful that Zoro never invoked his proper name, avoiding it like the plague the way he usually did. So, neither of you said anything after that, either. When the rest of the chores were finished, and you both walked through the halls of the sub, that’s when Zoro finally spoke up again.

”Wanna see about getting a drink?”

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Days that passed like molasses slowly started to feel less syrupy and more fluid. Jokes landed a little harder with you, and the swordsman took great care to make sure that smile reached your eyes. Franky and Usopp shared stories, Robin made morbid comments, and everything started feeling just a little more colorful again. Even when it was just you and Zoro sitting at a table, making idle chit-chat or opting to sit in comfortable silence, you realized his stable presence made you feel less lonely. Your crewmates were breathing some hope back into you.

The last night on the ship, before entering Wano, you and Zoro had another night like this. Sitting in the galley, with your face resting on your palm as you read a book. He was sharpening his swords, the shing of the blades a sound that triggered a disheartening nostalgia. Reminders of being on the Thousand Sunny, sitting in the grass as Sanji served you and the other ladies tea permeated your brain. The rhythmic sound of stone clashing with blade would have been a welcome ambiance to your book if not for this. Your eyes trailed over the same text again and again, hoping to comprehend anything other than the stakes of what lie ahead. Tomorrow would mean entering a new country, an Emperor’s territory, and there was still no word on how Sanji and the others were doing. The only one likely as antsy as you was probably Zoro, but a face of carefully composed stoicism left you uncertain. It wasn’t until you were shutting your book for the night, giving up on the idea of reading when your brain couldn’t focus, that he finally let it slip.

”He’s coming back. You know that, right?”

It was the first time he’d tried talking to you about Sanji since you reluctantly accepted his presence nearly a week ago. You paused, your fingers trailing the edge of your book as you worked to bite back the tension in your gut.

”Of course I do.” You replied, and maybe you sounded too defensive, because Zoro huffed in response.

”Yeah. Right.”

You stared at him, distracted partially by the hypnotic way his hand sent the whetstone across the honed edge of Wado Ichimonji. It wasn’t a good enough distraction, though, because in its reflection you could swear you caught a glimpse of a blonde tuft of hair. It reminded you of the last time you saw Sanji - back in Dressrosa, before the crew had split off. Longer ago than you’d care to dwell on. You took a deep breath, your eyes studying the etchings of Zoro’s swords and the way they glistened with their new coating.

”They all are.” You affirmed, a feeble attempt to sound more confident. “Soon.”

”Yeah.”

It’s another stiff silence filled with a distinct discomfort that you weren’t sure what to make of. Conversations with Zoro these days always felt unfinished. It felt as though there were things left unspoken, thoughts neither of you dared to share, and it was difficult to decide if that had more to do with your desire to avoid the topic or Zoro’s. Emotional vulnerability was not something you thought the swordsman wanted any part in. It was growing increasingly clear to you, though, that Zoro felt the same concern for the crew as you did. Likely for different reasons. It'd be a cold day in Hell if you ever got the bastard to admit he was worried about Sanji.

As you stood from the table, Zoro halted his movements on his blades, his head snapping in your direction.

“Wait a sec.” He said, and he moved to grab at the bandana around his arm. Before you could say anything, he undid the tie and held it out to you. “Here. Want you to have this.”

You furrowed your brows, gaze flickering between the piece of cloth and the swordsman. Your fingers reluctantly touched the fabric as your hand reached out. It was softer than you’d thought, the fabric cool to the touch and shiny. It wasn’t lost on you how important this one piece of clothing was to Zoro. It decorated his head with every big battle, a jolly roger in its own right. It was the flag of death for any of his enemies. A symbol of his strength, focus, and dedication as a swordsman. Your hand twitched with indecision, but before you could reject it Zoro had firmly shoved the bandana the rest of the way into your grasp.

”We’ll probably get separated in Wano. Being undercover in the Flower Capital is fine and all, but knowing us, somethin’s gonna happen.” He stated, and his eye was trained on you, as if reading you closely. “I’m gonna want that back, so don’t lose it.”

Looking at the bandana, all words died in your throat. What the hell do you even say to something like that? It was a kind gesture, more thoughtful than you’d expected from Zoro, and all you could wonder was why? Was he so concerned about your well-being that he wanted you to have a reminder of the crew? Of his friendship? It was hard to decide what to do or say, but after a few moments, you closed your fingers around the bandana.

“Thanks.”

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

The Flower Capital was more vibrant than you had anticipated, but most mornings, the colors still fell flat and the chirping of the birds were off-key. You understood now more than before why Zoro had worked so hard to make sure you weren’t isolated from the crew on your journey to the island. Aside from the few moments you could all safely convene or visit one-another, giving small waves and smiles passing by, you couldn’t spend time with them. Not without blowing your covers, and not without a good reason. Without your crew, and without Sanji, you were feeling more empty and numb than ever. A void had gradually opened up in your chest, and if you let your mind wander too far into memories, it threatened to swallow you whole.

In idle moments between you doing your assigned job in the Capital, learning to sew so you could fulfill your role as a seamstress, your fingers would fiddle mindlessly with the bandana Zoro had loaned you. It adorned the obi of your yukata, a hole that you had poked at the bottom so you could pull the fabric through and tie it into a small knot. It wasn’t proper, hardly even looked decent when you caught a glimpse in the mirror, but you didn’t care. It made you feel connected to your crew again - a physical reminder of the bond your friends shared with you and that things would go back to normal soon. Normal couldn’t come soon enough.

Time was passing slower than it had on the first leg of the journey here. It felt like all you could do was wait. Work on clothes for the nobles, pretend like you had an inkling of what you were doing, and try your best not to think about the way your boyfriend smiled so carefree the last time you had seen him. It felt like a special kind of torture that your brain had concocted to make things worse. Laughs that sounded too much like his trilled in your ears, food that you were sure he’d make better burned your palette. Everything reminded you of him, and when you’d wake up in a cold and lonely bed, your fingers would fidget with the bandana like a lifeline. You were certain you’d rub a hole in the fabric by the time you gave it back to Zoro.

It was sometimes in these idle moments that memories of your boyfriend would invade your most private thoughts. Lying on your futon, your hands would wander, eyes shut as you tried to picture Sanji’s hands in place of your own. Guiding them over your yukata, you’d work it off in the way you imagined he’d do it, sometimes slipping under the fabric and exploring the skin. You’d touch over your clit the way Sanji would, moaning his name as if maybe doing so would summon him. Fingers would invade your slit, and you’d taste yourself the way you knew he’d insist. Mornings when your hands would accidentally brush Zoro’s bandana would leave a pit in your stomach after the act was said and done. It always left an odd feeling of awkwardness at you having unwillingly involved it in your fantasies. It was an incident that occurred few and far between, but enough to leave that unsettling feeling. What would Sanji say? What would Zoro say? Not only would it have a hole in it, but the damn bandana would be washed thoroughly when it was returned. Of that, you were sure.

Too much had happened in such a short amount of time, and that short amount of time felt like an eternity. You forced yourself into a routine, something to keep anything semblance of sanity in this separation from your crew. Wake up, get coffee, go to work, try to earn the trust of the royal seamstress, go home, sleep. Intel collection wasn’t going as well as you had hoped, so there was no proper way to keep your mind occupied. The local gossip the other seamstresses shared was of no interest, and even the morning news did little to help.

One particular morning, about two weeks into your stay in Wano, you had managed to sneak away to the coffee stand on your break from work. The streets were buzzing, teeming with the same gossip you could hardly focus on for more than a few seconds. It wasn't until you had the morning newspaper pass by your eyesight, seeing the familiar face of your captain, that you felt your heart clench. Panicked, you let out a gasp and grabbed at a newspaper so you could look for yourself, earning a glare from the woman you snatched it from. An article about Luffy’s arrest, and a wanted poster with Zoro's face crudely drawn. Luffy’s arrest. Your heart had never simultaneously jumped and crashed so hard at the same time. If Luffy was here, what of Sanji? No chance that he’d have returned without their cook. It was a conflicting set of circumstances, bittersweet, because you couldn’t think of seeing Luffy’s face in the news as anything but a bad omen for the mission. Your Captain, who you adored and swore yourself to, in danger. Zoro, your friend, wanted for crimes you were sure he didn’t commit. And what of Sanji? The others?

Wandering through the streets of the Flower Capital gripping the cup of your coffee tightly in your palm, your mind was swirling with too many thoughts. They all lingered on your crew - Luffy and Zoro’s safety, Sanji’s return, what this meant fighting against Kaidou. Your head was aching, full of growing concern, and you were only snapped out of it when you felt a hand land on your shoulder.

"What-?"

The moment you turned your head, everything in your body buzzed with an energy you couldn’t quite place.

Sanji.

Your heart was in your stomach which twisted and lept, and you just stared at him in disbelief. You blinked, and you blinked again, and the apparition didn’t dissipate. Sanji’s hand rested on your shoulder, and the warmth of his touch was enough to assure you that this wasn’t a dream. He was here. Tears streaked down your cheeks and, before you could stop yourself, your arms wrapped around his waist and coffee splashed down into the street below. Face buried in his chest as you clutched onto him like he was a ghost. You couldn’t control the way your hands trembled and your body ached for him, scared that he’d disappear again, and this time for good. Cover be damned - you were sure that if you let him slip from your grasp this time, he’d vanish as suddenly as he had before.

”Hey, hey - it’s okay!” Sanji replied immediately, his arms enveloping you in return. You cried against him, and it was all he could do to rub your back and rest his chin against the top of your head. “I’m sorry I left. I’m here now.”

”You-“ You choked out, wanting to say so many things, but they wouldn’t leave your mouth. You wanted to curse, to shake him, to let him know how angry you were for worrying you sick. Instead, your arms tightened, and a sob broke through you.

“Angel…” He sighed, and you swore you could hear his voice crack.

He held you like this for longer than probably appropriate on the busy streets of the Capital. When you finally stopped crying, your body shaking from the adrenaline pumping through you, he slowly pulled your arms back so he could look at you. As your eyes met, his lips curled into a soft smile, and he reached a hand so his thumb could wipe any stray tears on your face. You had expected a lot of reactions from Sanji upon your reunion. Daydreamed them, in fact. His usual, dorky excitement wasn’t present like you thought it’d be, though. Instead, his eyes looked haunted, an unmistakable flash of guilt present and unshakeable. You leaned your cheek against his palm, a silent signal that you were happy to see him again.

“Let’s go somewhere private.” He murmured.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

It was a short walk to the quarters you had been staying in from where Sanji found you. Your hands couldn’t stop shaking, fidgeting with the piece of fabric at your waist. Your other hand clung to Sanji’s with laced fingers in hopes that it would chain him to your side a little while longer. You weren’t sure how much longer you’d have with him given the operation going on in Wano, but any time was good enough for now. It would have to be.

“The head seamstress in the Flower Capital was gracious enough to give me a room,” You explained to Sanji, carefully selecting your words. “It’s got everything I could need. A kotatsu, a futon, a window. I’ve been spending most of my time there when I’m not working.”

Sanji didn’t say anything. It was unlike him, being so silent as he walked beside you. It didn’t feel like your boyfriend, but you elected to keep that observation to yourself. All questions and concerns would have to wait. The horrors of Whole Cake wasn’t something either of you would likely feel keen diving into over a cup of spilled coffee in the streets of enemy territory. You noticed as you walked with Sanji through the barracks of fellow seamstress’ the women that were present giving you sidelong glances. Knowing smiles and half-lidded eyes between Sanji and yourself. It would be annoying if not for the fact that it was maybe better for them to think this was just a gentleman caller rather than some kind of ally. The thought still made your blood pressure spike just a bit.

The sliding door to your quarters finally closed with a click, leaving you and Sanji in the morning light bathing the interior. Even then you didn’t let go of his hand. You guided him to the futon, taking a seat on the edge and tucking your legs under. Fabric from your yukata splayed out, floral patterns glittering in the sun and catching the eye of the cook. All you could focus on was the way his face looked exactly the way you remembered it.

Silence. This wasn’t right. This was far from the norm. Your fingers flexed slightly against his, and just as you were about to feel your heart palpitate, his thumb rubbed against the skin of your hand. It soothed the coming ache immediately.

“Sanji-”

“I missed you.” He interrupted, his eyes flickering from your joined hands to your gaze. Lifting his free hand, he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear that had spilled from your bun. “I didn’t stop thinking about you, angel. Not for one second. Not once.”

You swallowed back the swell of emotion caught in your throat. It bobbed, and you were sure your eyes were glassy. Taking a shaky breath, you shook your head.

“Me neither.”

Sanji shifted closer, his hand not leaving your skin. His fingertips lightly brushed against your flesh, as if testing it for himself, checking to make sure it was real. It lingered, his expression softening as his gaze flickered over your face. There was a fondness there that you had grown to recognize, come to miss, and it made the ache in your chest hurt even deeper. Sanji’s thumb brushed away a tear that you hadn’t even realized was threatening to spill, his lips parting slightly at the sight.

Silence again, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Sanji’s lips hovered near yours, brushing and threatening to press into them. Your breath hitched in your throat, your lashes colliding gently with his when your eyes fluttered shut. When his lips finally captured yours, gently latching and caressing, the dam that had been barely holding together finally broke loose. Your fingers finally unlaced from his, but it was so that they could grab onto the back of his neck. Sanji’s hands landed on your hips as you moved to straddle his waist, a kiss full of lips and tongue overwhelming in its desperation and greed.

His hands on your hips guided you steadily, rocking your body down and against his. Even through your yukata, the way Sanji ran his hand over your thigh and waist made goosebumps rise on your skin. A moan into your mouth told you that he was just as affected, though grinding onto his hardening cock would have done just as well. His fingers ran over your curves, dipping into the overlapping fabric of your yukata, intent on pulling it apart.

“Sorry…” Sanji gasped into your mouth between kisses. “Sorry, I'm sorry…”

You shushed him, your hands running down his shoulders and chest as you continued to grind against him. The heat was overbearing, and his lips trailed down from your mouth to latch against your neck. He sucked the spot beneath your ear in the way that you had been left to only dream about these past few weeks. He was savoring your skin, reminding himself of the underlying flavors of your flesh and sweat. With a groan, he turned you onto your back to hover over you. Your back landed against the soft material of the futon, all the while your boyfriend's lips didn't let up their assault on your neck. His cock grinded down against you, his hands worshipping and gliding over your body.

You whimpered his name, and he groaned again in response, whimpering yours in return. His hand traveled down and crept up your yukata, his other hand pushing your thighs apart. You shuddered beneath his touch, entirely too gentle and too warm for what you had been waiting for. Calloused fingertips inched their way to the junction between your thighs, testing the feeling of your already slick folds against your panties. Pushing them aside, they dove further, eliciting a breathless moan from your lips.

“Missed this…I’ll never leave again, I’ll-”

Sanji paused, his fingers still poised against your clit. His other hand had crept up your yukata, landing on the unfamiliar material that poked through the hole you’d created. His curly brows furrowed in confusion for a moment, though you couldn’t tell from the way his face was still buried in your neck. His breath felt hot against you, the only indication of the way his breathing had become shaky. Your hands grasped at him, almost pleading.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” You whispered, but he didn’t respond.

“We need to talk.” He said, quiet and…detached.

Not verbally, anyway. His fingers moved away from your aching center, his nose brushing against your neck for a moment, just inhaling the scent he had missed so much. Your heart ached the moment he pulled away from your body, eyes landing on your obi. No, not your obi - the bandana that adorned it. The air was thick, weighed down by the need that ripped through you both, the love that you shared, and the clear betrayal that glittered in Sanji’s gaze. Wordlessly, he sat up on your futon, hair still mussed from your fingers.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

#one piece #op #black leg sanji #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #roronoa zoro #sanji x reader #sanji x you #black leg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece smut #sanji smut #sanji angst #sanji x reader angst #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic

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wheeboo · 4 months ago

Text

"bluetooth hug!" | kim mingyu

SYNOPSIS. in which being long distance with your boyfriend comes with its perks. PAIRING. kim mingyu x fem!reader GENRE. fluff, comfort, suggestive, established relationship WARNINGS. mingyu basically using all the terms of endearment in the world, mingyu being absolutely smitten and so so in love with you it's ridiculous, they talk abt wanting to kiss each other A LOT save them from this distance, so yes kissing lots of kissing that i had wayy too much fun writing, lots of teasing from mingyu, brief shirtless mingyu moment, suggestive undertones, suggestive at the end, implied sexual content WORD COUNT. 8k

notes: personally after a kinda bad experience with long distance, i don't think i'd be able to do it LMAO. anyway! i had this idea for a while lmao n just couldnt stop thinking abt mingyu yelling out "bluetooth hug!" to the camera directors in TTT :((

“Wait, baby, baby, look at this!”

When you look back at the phone, Mingyu is proudly showing off his new collection of shot glasses, each one lined up on a shelf in his kitchen. He eyes each one before grabbing one up to the camera with a boyish grin.

“Ta-da!” he exclaims, gesturing like a game show host showing off a prize. “I told you I’d start collecting these when I travel, and look! Aren’t they cool? This one... I think... This one is from Jeju Island. This other one is from Paris…”

Your boyfriend has always been quite the adventurous kind. It’s the first thing you noticed when you tapped on his profile on Tinder and you were greeted by a plethora of photos of Mingyu in all sorts of places𑁋hiking in the mountains, posing in front of famous landmarks, and even one where he was holding a street food skewer with a bright, goofy grin. His bio had read, “Always looking for my next adventure! Maybe you can join me someday? 😙”

At the time, you had laughed at how cliché it sounded, but there was something about his energy, the way his smile lit up every photo, that made you swipe right.

The only catch was that he lived in an entirely different country.

Fast forward six months later, and here you are, completely and utterly smitten by the same man who had once been a stranger behind a screen. Even though your relationship is entirely virtual, it has blossomed in ways you didn’t think possible. Unfortunately, you’ve been occupied with studying for university and schedules filled to the brim, and Mingyu was quite busy checking things off his own bucket list, so there were hardly any opportunities for the two of you to finally meet.

Still, you loved hearing his stories and seeing the world through his eyes, even if it was through a screen.

Mingyu carefully places it back on the shelf before showing off another one to the camera. You can’t help the smile spreading across your face as you watch him enthusiastically present each shot glass. His cute little fangs show along with his grin, and it’s moments like this that make the distance between you feel just a little smaller.

“One day, I’ll fill this shelf up.” Then he turns his attention back to the phone, watching you diligently typing away some notes on your laptop. “Baby?”

“Hm?” You shoot a glance to the screen.

Mingyu juts out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout, resting his chin on his hand.

“You’re not paying attention to me,” he whines helplessly, dragging out the words like a kid vying for attention.

Letting out a giggle, you scoot your laptop away from your phone, the screen dimming from off your face. You shift your position so that you're properly facing the screen now, giving him your full attention.

You raise an eyebrow playfully. “Yes, my precious, annoyingly clingy boyfriend?”

Mingyu’s only pout deepens, and he crosses his arms over his chest as if to make his disappointment even more prominent. “You’ve been so busy with work lately... I miss you.”

“How could you miss me when we haven’t even met yet, Gyu?” You jest teasingly.

His features soften at your words, uncrossing his arms and leaning in closer to the screen, and it’s almost like the huge distance between the two of you lessens slightly.

“I don’t need to meet you to miss you,” Mingyu explains sheepishly. “I just... All I have to do is think about you and it’s like you’re here, but not really here, you know?” He rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink that you can see even through the screen. “Gosh, the things I would do to just have you in my arms right now…”

A dreamy look lights up your face. You swear you could almost feel his presence right by you just from his words alone, but they aren’t enough to ease the longing ache in your chest, aren’t enough to fill the gap that stretches between the two of you. You let out a soft sigh, your heart warming at the thought of him.

“I think about it a lot, too,” You murmur gingerly, glancing down for a moment before meeting his gaze again through the screen. “About finally getting to be close with you.”

Even through the screen, you see the way his face melts, an expression nothing short of longing and expectation. His fingers drum against the counter, and you can tell he’s thinking of what to say next. The troublesome expression he wears tells you that it’s probably not something good.

“Tell me,” he says, resting his chin on his palm again. “What would we be doing if I was there right now?”

A thoughtful look crosses your features, but the answer is already so clear in your mind you could almost feel it.

“Cuddling?” You quirk a playful brow up at that. “Cuddling while listening to you talk... That would be nice. But then at some point, I’d get tired of hearing you talk, and just𑁋”

“Just what?”

“Hmmm,” You start, an impish flicker of your lips. “I’d shut you up with a kiss.”

Mingyu sputters in surprise at that, his brain and thoughts running haywire. “Oh? Oh?” He leans closer to the screen, a mischievous glint in his eyes now. “That’s dangerous talk, baby.”

You tilt your head amusedly. “Is it now?”

“You can’t just say things like that.” He pouts again. “Knowing damn well I can’t do anything about it. That’s just cruel. A crime, even.”

“Come on, I’m just speaking facts,” You retort back. “Now, tell me. If you could do something about it, what would you do?”

Mingyu lets out a sigh. “Don’t do this to me, babe.”

“I’m just curious,” You hum innocently, resting your chin on your palm now, mirroring his posture. “Would you kiss me silly?”

Mingyu’s gaze flickers back to you, and there’s something undeniably fond in the way he looks at you.

“You already know I would,” he grumbles. “I’d pull you in my lap and kiss you soooo hard that you wouldn’t be able to crawl away from me.”

You hum again, pretending to consider, despite the heat crawling up your neck. “Sounds nice.”

“Nice?” Mingyu scoffs at your indifference. “Just nice?”

You giggle. “Okay, okay𑁋really nice. Amazing. Wonderful. Fantastic. Perfect, even.”

He narrows his eyes playfully. “That’s more like it.” Then, he leans in just a bit closer to the screen, voice dropping slightly. “You’d be the one begging for me to stop talking then.”

Your stomach flutters, but you roll your eyes. “Okay, well, now you’re just being cocky.”

“Am I wrong, though?” He smirks, and you hate how good he looks doing it. “The moment I see you, I won’t be able to stop kissing you for a long, long time.”

For a moment, the teasing pauses, and all you can hear is the gentle hum of your heartbeat. You look into his eyes𑁋those same eyes that always made you feel both safe and that you could conquer the world all at once. You crave the feeling of his arms around you, his lips teasing you in real life, not just through words.

As you’re about to speak, though, a notification pops up on your computer.

When you read it silently, you let out a defeated sigh.

Mingyu notices your worry right away, like he always does. “Deadline notif?”

“Yeah,” You mutter, pulling away from the phone screen to force your laptop awake again. “I should wrap up this assignment, and you should go to sleep, Mr. Big Talk. You keep staying up for me.”

Mingyu groans dramatically, letting out a pettish whine. “The universe is always conspiring against me. I still wanna keep talking to you.”

You laugh softly. “I think you’ll survive, you big goof. I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?”

You watch as Mingyu picks up his phone, trailing over to where you could catch glimpses of his living room. He plops down on the couch with that same, irresistible sulkiness from earlier before a sudden gleam of mischief lights up his features.

“One more thing,” he says, sitting up excitedly, propping the phone down on the table before opening up his arms towards the camera. “Bluetooth hug!”

You blink confusedly. “Bluetooth what now?”

“Bluetooth hug,” he repeats, and you can tell how serious he is about it. “Since I can’t hug you in person, we do this instead.”

Your heart stutters at the sheer ridiculousness and sincerity of it all. “Gyu, you’re so𑁋”

“Shhh,” he hushes, wiggling his fingers like he’s beckoning you forward. “Just do it, baby. Please?”

With a chuckle, you shake your head, but you can’t deny him, not when he’s looking at you like that. Raising your arms, you mimic his motion, pretending to wrap them around his broad frame through the screen.

“Bluetooth hug,” You quip, and you can almost feel his body pressed up against yours at the thought. “There. Happy?”

Mingyu flops back onto the couch, a dazed look to his face. “Mmh, best hug ever. It’ll be our thing now before we end the call.” Then he pans the camera down to his chin, and gosh, he looks extra kissable right now. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you go now, okay?”

You give him a faint smile. “Okay.”

Some moments of silence pass, like neither of you want to break the spell that’s bound to you both. It happens basically every time𑁋where neither of you want to end the call, until one of you finally gets the guts to do it first, only to instantly miss the other right after.

Mingyu stares at you for a few more seconds, like he’s trying to memorise every detail of your face before parting ways, and you do the same𑁋hoping to hold on to this moment a little longer.

“Okay,” he murmurs finally, his voice soft but resigned. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You whisper back, trying to fight the tug at your heart. “I’ll miss you.”

He grins at you one last time, his boyish charm lighting up his face, and his gaze is soothing. “Miss you more, baby. Sleep well.”

And with that, the screen turns to black. Even though he’s basically an entire ocean away from you, you still feel his warmth lingering around you.

“Wait, I think you passed it! Go back a little, baby.”

You furrow a brow as you push back the shopping cart, nearly saving your phone as it almost falls off from where it’s perched idly on the child’s seat. You show off the endless rows of foods and packaged goods towards the camera, giving a better angle for Mingyu to see.

“Like... here?” You tilt the camera slightly, showcasing the aisle packed with different types of pasta.

“Yes, that’s the one!” Mingyu’s excited voice blasts through your headphones. “Get the one with the red logo, do you see it? It’s the one I always use for my spaghetti.”

Mingyu had brought up your bi-weekly tradition of cooking together as a little date night. Since the two of you obviously aren’t able to cook in the same kitchen, this was the next best thing𑁋letting him guide you through the store to pick up ingredients and calling over FaceTime while making the same recipe. Although, this time, it’s Mingyu’s own special recipe.

You pluck the spaghetti noodle pack from the shelf and place it into your shopping cart. “Okay, got it.”

“Perfect,” he says, completely satisfied. “Now, next is Parmesan cheese... Oh, baby, get some garlic too. Fresh, not the pre-minced kind.”

You roll your eyes at his determination, yet a smile tugs endearingly at your lips. “Affirmative, oh-great chef.”

Mingyu wiggles his brows at that. “Say that again.”

You scoff, shaking your head with a laugh as you push your cart down the aisle, trailing towards the produce section of the store. “Nope. You get it once, and that’s it.”

He lets out a groan. “Ugh, you’re such a bully. Just say you hate me and want to break up with me already.”

“I lovingly hate you,” You tease, reaching for a bulb of garlic and holding it up to the camera. “This work for you?”

He narrows his eyes, inspecting it through the screen, his head tilted like he’s some sort of critically acclaimed food critic. “Hmm... yes, that one looks good. You pass.”

You chuckle, dropping it in your cart. “Lucky ol’ me.”

After you finish shopping for all the ingredients, you find yourself lining up at the register for check-out. You compare the ingredients to the list Mingyu had sent you. Spaghetti noodles? Check. Garlic? Check. Basil? Check. Parmesan cheese? Check. Tomatoes? Check...

“Okay,” Mingyu starts. “I’ve sent the money for the groceries to your card.”

Your eyes widen at that. “I𑁋Gyu…” Then you roll your eyes, knowing you can’t argue back with him. “You know, my frontal lobe may be averagely developed, but I’m a grown adult, with money of my own.”

“Yeah, well, I’m also a grown adult who wants to spoil his favourite girl,” Mingyu retorts back playfully. “Let me treat you once in a while, okay?”

You card a hand through your hair. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Mingyu simply grins at that. “I really am.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” You remark, pushing your cart up to the register. “I’ll call you when I’m home.”

“Drive safe, okay?” he says, suddenly softer. “Text me when you get there.”

Your heart does that annoying little flutter it always does when he’s sweet with you like this, swallowing down the warmth creeping up your neck, your fingertip lingering on the end call button. “I will.”

By the time you get home and call him back, Mingyu is already in his kitchen, phone propped up against the counter, sleeves rolled up to his elbow like he’s about to film his own cooking show. The sight of his exposed arms makes your stomach do a flip.

“Welcome, welcome,” he beckons with poise. “Tonight, I, Chef Mingyu, will be guiding the love of my life in whipping up the best spaghetti of her life.”

You snort, setting your phone against the kitchen backsplash. “Pretty bold claim, mister.”

His infectious grin only shines with confidence. “Just wait and see, princess.”

The two of you start cooking together, Mingyu guiding you through each step like a seasoned pro𑁋boiling the pasta, sautéing the garlic, and getting the sauce to the perfect consistency. All while he’s playfully critiquing your chopping and cooking skills (“Baby, what is that? Are you making garlic chunks instead of minced garlic?”), and you teasingly mock his over-the-top chef persona (“Should I start calling you ‘Gordon Kim’ now?”).

The comforting aroma of tomatoes and garlic fill your kitchen as the sauce simmers, bubbling gently under the heat. You find yourself standing at the stove, slowly running a wooden spoon through the makeshift sauce.

“Make sure you’re stirring it evenly,” he chimes in randomly, watching you intently.

“I am stirring it evenly.”

Mingyu squints, bringing the phone up to his face as if that’ll definitely help him see better. “Mmm… I don’t know, precious. Let me see the consistency.”

Rolling your eyes, you lift the wooden spoon, letting the sauce drip back into the pan. “Chef Kim, does this meet your expectations?”

He taps his chin theatrically. “You are barely passing, but I’ll allow it.”

You let out an exaggerated gasp. “I am literally following your recipe, Gyu.”

“I know, and I’m an amazing teacher,” he says smugly. “Okay, let's check on the pasta. Should be al dente now.”

You grab a fork and scoop up a strand, blowing on it before taking a bite. “I think it’s good?”

Mingyu hums, watching you closely. “Are you sure? Not too soft? Not too hard? Do the official chef bite.”

You raise a brow. “Please enlighten me on what the official chef bite is.”

He straightens up his posture confidently, dramatically miming the act of chewing like some Michelin-star judge. “You gotta, like, taste it with full concentration, eyes closed, and nod like you’re making the most critical decision of your life.”

You roll your eyes but comply anyway, exaggerating the nod just for him, claiming in your best food critic voice, “Ah, yes. Exquisitely divine. A fine noodle with a delicate texture.”

Mingyu beams at that, and walks over to give his pasta noodles a quick taste test of his own. He moves with a sense of elegance in his step, albeit slightly chaotic. He’s always been like this, always throwing himself fully into whatever he loves, especially cooking. And right now, he’s throwing himself into making sure you get this recipe just right.

As the two of you finish draining the pasta, you begin to toss it into the sauce, ensuring that it’s properly mixed. Mingyu watches you carefully, your lips pursed in concentration.

“Make sure every strand is coated and𑁋oh!” He leans in closer to the screen, watching you mix. “Don’t forget to leave a little bit of pasta water.”

You pause mid-stir, eyes narrowing at him through the screen. “Why didn’t you tell me that before I drained all of it?”

Mingyu’s mouth drops down to the floor. “Baby, no! The starch in the pasta water helps the sauce stick better.”

You huff defeatedly. “Guess my spaghetti is less Mingyu-fied now.”

“It’s okay, you’re still a beginner,” he assures. “My love and patience are boundless.”

“Wow, you’re so generous.”

You scoop the pasta into a plate, sprinkling a generous amount of Parmesan cheese on top of it, tucking in some loose noodle strands with a fork to make it cute for your little dinner date. Mingyu does the same, positioning his plate just right so you can see it on screen.

You set your phone up against the tiny succulent on the table, grabbing your fork in hand.

“Moment of truth. First bite together?” Mingyu suggests excitedly.

You nod, twirling some spaghetti onto your fork and holding it up. “On three?”

“One, two…”

“Three.”

An explosion of flavours coat your tastebuds, your eyes widening in surprise. You chew through it leisurely, savouring it with a pleasant hum, before diving in for another bite. Mingyu’s attention is solely focused on you as he takes a bite of his own, his face lighting up with triumph as he soaks up the way you’re enjoying it.

“Damn,” You wipe some sauce off the corner of your lip. “This is really good.”

“Yeah?” His eyes crinkle with pure happiness. “Knew you’d love it, sweetheart.”

The two of you continue to eat together, and it’s almost as if he’s sitting right across from you at the table. You catch him up on what the week has showered down on you, rambling to him about something in regards to one of your professor’s strict grading style, and he fills you in with a humourous story that happened to him with his coworker Soonyoung at work two days ago.

Even though you’re in different places, it’s moments like these that make the distance feel smaller, that make time feel infinite𑁋knowing one day, you’ll be with him in person.

And as you finish your last bite, you can’t help but think𑁋if love had a taste, it would be this.

“I’m stuffed,” You mutter after washing your plate in the sink, plopping back down in the chair. “And need a shower.”

Mingyu lifts a brow, smirking devilishly. “Take me with you.”

You shake your head, sending him a suspicious look. “In your dreams, pervert.”

“Can’t help it, love. You’re absolutely ravishing, even in dream-form.”

A lump forms in your throat at your boyfriend’s downright shamelessness, heat threatening to spread its way and infect all parts of your body. Mingyu basks in your reaction with a prideful grin, biting at his bottom lip to suppress a giggle.

Then, as if he had read your mind, he outstretches his arms towards the camera.

“Bluetooth hug?” he asks softly, wiggling his fingers in invitation, as if he’s attempting to reach out to you through the screen. He always knows how to get under your skin so easily.

You give him a roll of your eyes, before extending your own arms towards him as well, the two of you curling your arms, basically hugging the air. But even in the empty space, knowing that he’s right on the other side is enough to make it almost feel like the real thing. Almost.

“Feel that?” he murmurs, squeezing himself tightly. “That’s me, right there with you.”

Your heart stutters, warmth blooming in your chest. “I feel it.”

A pleased look paints his face, but then his voice turns teasing again. “Wish I could do more than just a hug, you know…”

Your fingers twitch against the screen. “Oh?”

“Oh.” His grin turns wolfish. “You’d like that, huh?”

You only sneer, but there’s no real bite to it. “Goodnight, you dirty-minded freak.”

Mingyu shoots you a kiss through the screen. “Goodnight, pretty girl. Dream of me.”

And as you hang up, face warm and heart full, you know sleep won’t come easy𑁋because every little word, every little tease, lingers, like the taste of his love on your tongue.

“I talk about you, you know.”

Your attention is momentarily taken away from the book in your hands, and you peer towards Mingyu on your phone screen, who appears to be completely submerged within the comfort of his bed. The sun has nearly risen on his end𑁋as he is stubborn and wants to fall asleep at exactly the same time as you𑁋while the sky is plagued with darkness on yours. He looks adorable, as he always does, and your chest can't help but tighten at the sight.

“What?”

Mingyu emerges slightly out of the sheets, revealing more of his pretty bare face. “To my friends, my family. I talk about you.”

Your breath catches in your throat at that.

“You do?” You murmur, setting your book aside and shifting under your blanket as well.

Mingyu only nods, resting his cheek against his pillow. “Of course. All the time. They probably think I’m obsessed with you.” He gives a sheepish grin. “Which, I mean... they wouldn’t be wrong.”

A quiet laugh escapes your lips, but it doesn’t quite mask the way his words turn your insides into mush. “What... What do you tell them?”

“Hmm,” he hums, pretending to think hard. “I tell them about how amazing you are. How we met on Tinder and how it grew from there. How you make me laugh so effortlessly. How you somehow always know exactly what to say. How you’re unbelievably pretty and cute and sexy when you’re focused on something𑁋like, seriously, it’s unfair, babe.”

His words swirl around you like a thick fog, settling over your body and creeping in within the crevices of your heart. A smile crawls its way across your features, half-buried in the pillow, but for some reason, it simmers just slightly.

Because you talk about Mingyu too𑁋to your friends, your family, hell even strangers you’ve known for a day. He probably doesn’t realise himself how much you speak so fondly of him day-to-day. Yet, the thing is, there are people who have told you that long distance relationships hardly ever work. Or that meeting Mingyu through a dating app meant that your connection with him is bound to fizzle out after some time, that it wasn’t real love. Those words stick to you like an annoying flea sometimes.

But if those people could see you right now𑁋see the way your heart leaps out of your chest when Mingyu smiles through the screen, the way his voice alone can make the world feel a little more bearable, the way he talks about you like you hung the moon and stars in the sky𑁋maybe they’d understand.

However, there’s always that tiny part of you that worries.

Because what if they’re right? If love isn’t this, then what is?

“...and I tell them I’d do anything to finally just… be with you, you know?” Mingyu continues mindlessly, before stopping, as if sensing the sudden shift that you weren’t entirely listening. “Baby?”

You blink, shaking off the thoughts. “Huh?”

Mingyu’s brows knit together slightly. “You okay? You kinda went all quiet.”

You hesitate for a moment, caught between shoving your thoughts away and admitting the quiet fears that gnaw at your skin during the wee hours of the night. But Mingyu knows you too well. He always does.

“Yeah,” You respond quietly, but it’s more than obvious how unconvincing your tone is. Even a three-year-old could probably sense it.

Mingyu doesn’t press, at least not right away. He watches you carefully, waiting, giving you the stage to decide how much you want to say. That’s one of the things you love most about him𑁋his patience when it comes to you being vulnerable with him, his effort in wanting to communicate with you, his willingness to listen when you’re ready.

So you exhale, pressing your lips together before whispering, “Do... you think this will last?”

Mingyu adjusts his position to get a better look at you. “What do you mean?”

You swallow nervously. “I mean us. Long distance, life pulling us in different directions one day. People say it’s not sustainable. That... maybe this isn’t real love.”

Mingyu’s eyes darken at that, his jaw tightening as if his body is physically rejecting the idea. “Who the hell says that?”

You let out a weak, humourless laugh, giving a shrug. “People who think love only works if it’s easy, I guess.”

Mingyu’s expression just softens, his gaze carefully boring into you as if he’s searching for every ounce of doubt in your words. He leans closer to the screen, making the distance feel smaller, if only for a moment, just as he always does.

“Listen to me, angel,” he prompts. “Love isn’t easy. It never is. It’s work. It’s effort. It’s choosing someone over and over again, even when it’s hard. If things ever get hard between us, then we fight for it. Because this? Us? It’s real, precious, no matter what anyone else thinks. I’d literally walk the entire earth just to tell you that we’re okay.”

Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you don’t respond. Because this, you realise, is what love is, right? It’s not just the soft, dreamy moments of cooking together through a screen or whispering sleepy goodnights before ending the call. It’s this𑁋being honest about your fears and knowing that no matter what, the person on the other side isn’t going anywhere.

That this𑁋he𑁋is worth every mile. And no matter what anyone says, this love? It’s real. You know it is.

Mingyu’s voice drops, more gentler now. “Do you believe me, love?”

You could only let out a soft laugh, letting the warmth bloom throughout your face at his words. “You’re too confident for your own good sometimes, you know that?”

“I’m confident because I know what I want,” he replies matter-of-factly. “And what I want is you. I love you. I could scream that to my next-door neighbours right now if I wanted to. I’m in this for the long run, so... I guess you’re stuck with me now.”

You scoff a little. “I guess.” Before your expression merely melts, your worries lifting off your chest. “Thank you, though. I... I really needed that. I love you too.”

His grin turns radiant, like the sun peeking out at sunrise, so full of adoration that it makes your heart stutter. “Yeah?”

You laugh softly. “Yeah.”

Mingyu clutches at his chest in a dramatic fashion. “Say it again, please. I need it in writing. Maybe a voice memo for proof so I could replay it for hours.”

Though you’re notorious for leaving him on the edge sometimes, this time, you can’t help but cave in.

“I love you too, Kim Mingyu.”

You swear you see the temptation in his face that he could practically leap off the bed and bounce off the walls in his room from giddiness, just like an overexcited puppy. His mouth stretches into a cheesy, toothy grin, and he lets out some sort of muffled squeal𑁋half a cheer, half a laugh, all purely Mingyu.

“God, baby, I think you killed me again,” he tells you, cheeks pained from all the ridiculous smiling he’s been doing. “I wish I could kiss you right now. Like, really kiss you. Wouldn’t even hesitate.”

You breath hitches at the thought, but you attempt to play it cool. “And what if you come here and discover I’m the most disastrous kisser imaginable?”

Mingyu’s eyes widen in comical horror. “Impossible. There’s no way I’d believe that. You’d have to try really hard to be a bad kisser, babe.”

You roll your eyes, trying to suppress the smile threatening to break free. “I’m serious. What if I’m an awful kisser and ruin everything?”

“Then I’d just kiss you again,” Mingyu responds, completely unbothered, as if that solves everything. “And again. And again. Until I figure out how to teach you properly. I’d take a hundred bad kisses if it means I get to kiss you a hundred times.”

“Wow,” is all you can utter out. “You’re really down bad for me, aren’t you?”

Mingyu’s grin widens even more, if that’s even possible at this point. “Down bad? No, baby, I’m crazy for you. To the point I think I’ll suffer from a heart attack one day. There’s a difference.”

You can’t help but chuckle, shaking your head fondly at how absolutely unapologetic he is in his affection. It’s one of the many silly quirks you love about him𑁋how he wears his heart on his sleeve and isn’t afraid to show it, even from cities away.

When you shift in your position within your covers, a yawn escapes from you as the exhaustion finally begins to catch up with how late it is. You don’t really know how long the two of you have been calling, but you don’t bother to check for yourself.

He’s your little infinity.

“Tired?”

“Mmh, yeah. A little. Been a long day,” You respond with a low mutter, stretching your legs out under the sheets.

Mingyu thinks for a moment, before reaching out to grab the pillow right next to him, wrapping an arm around it and squeezing it tightly.

“Bluetooth hug!” he exclaims eagerly, voice muffled into the pillow.

The corners of your mouth lift as you grab your own pillow, squeezing it with the most affection your body could muster. It’s the closest thing you have to him.

“Bluetooth hug,” You repeat back with a sleepy smile.

“Fall asleep with me?” Mingyu proposes with a sly look.

“Unless you want your phone to explode later on,” You remark playfully. “Sure.”

The two of you are swift to curl yourselves comfortably under the sheets, the only sounds being the occasional shift of Mingyu in his bed and your quiet breathing. You feel Mingyu’s eyes still on you even as you’re struggling to stay awake, a simple, comfortable silence taking over in the way you both simply exist in this bubble of virtual connection together.

“Gyu?”

“Mhm?”

“I love you. Goodnight.”

Maybe love isn’t easy. But with him, it feels like the easiest thing in the world.

“Goodnight, baby, I love you too.”

You don’t really need to say anything more than that; the simple truth of his presence, even through a screen, is enough. The love, the connection, the trust you share together𑁋it’s all there. It’s real.

Eventually, the call fades into silence, the sounds of your quiet, rhythmic breathing and the steady fall and rise of your chest being the only things Mingyu can see and hear. He stays like that for a few minutes𑁋just simply taking you in within the darkness of your bedroom he hopes to share with you one day, admiring you from afar, knowing you’re just a screen away yet somehow right there beside him.

When he’s sure that you’ve fallen asleep, he lets out a breath he’s been holding within his chest.

“One more month,” he whispers to himself as he closes his eyes, the gentle sound of your breathing lulling him into a peaceful state. “One more month, and I'll finally get to hold you.”

One more month, and everything will be right.

Your overthinking may as well make your brain combust.

Mingyu hasn’t called you or has been answering his calls for the past ten hours, and it’s making you worried sick.

Your mind runs through all sorts of scenarios, ranging from the logical to the most absurd. Maybe he fell asleep. Maybe his phone died. Maybe he’s just busy. But ten hours? Mingyu always, always makes time to send at least a quick text if he’s not available, always makes time to call you at least twice a day, and would definitely let you know if he can’t call at all. What in the world happened?

This was definitely not how you imagined you’d start your March break with, with your boyfriend basically going AWOL-radio silent on you for almost half a day. You try not to let your thoughts spiral too much, but your chest tightens nonetheless. Is he okay? Did something happen? What if he got into an accident? What if he lost his phone? What if𑁋God forbid𑁋he’s ghosting you?

No, that last one is absolutely out of the question. This is Kim Mingyu we’re talking about. He would rather cut off his own limbs than ignore you for this long without a good reason.

You chew at the inside of your cheek as you stare at your phone, debating if you should call again or to send another text, or if you’re going overboard from being worried over literally nothing. You’ve already spammed him enough𑁋eight texts, four missed calls, and a voice memo where your tone was a mix of concern and frustration.

Just as you’re about to work yourself into another wave of panic, your phone vibrates on your nightstand. You scramble to grab it, barely registering Mingyu’s name flashing on the screen before answering, bringing it up to your ear.

“Mingyu? Where have you𑁋”

“Hi, baby,” he interrupts, voice warm like melted chocolate, but there’s something else there too𑁋something you can’t quite place. “Sorry I didn't call earlier. Were you worried?”

You let out a breath, flopping back against your pillows. “Worried? That’s an understatement. I was already debating if I should call that Wonwoo guy to track you down. I thought you got kidnapped or something!”

Mingyu lets out a breathy chuckle, the sound oddly laced with amusement. “I promise, no kidnappings today. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you, love.” There’s some rustling sounds on the other end, like the sound of a piece of clothing being adjusted or the wind breezing through the air. “Are you home right now?”

“I𑁋Of course, I am. Are you? You sound like you’re outside.”

On the other end, Mingyu clears his throat. “I... uh, I had to do a lot of errands today.”

“Errands?” You frown, sitting up straighter in bed. “Since when do you run errands for ten hours straight without answering your phone?”

“Um, since... today?” he tries, voice holding that signature boyish charm, but there’s an unmissable nervous edge to it.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Gyu, what are you up to?”

“Nothing, nothing!” He laughs, but it sounds a little too forced. “Just… stuff. Important stuff.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“You caught me,” he teases, but you hear the sound of a door closing on his end, the faint rustling of fabric, then𑁋what was that? The beeping of an elevator? Your brows knit together in confusion.

“Gyu,” You deadpan, your tone serious. “Where are you, really?”

“Home, obviously,” he answers, his footsteps echoing on the ground through the phone. “Can you do me a favour, baby? It’s a quick one, I promise.”

You huff a breath, unsure how much more you can tolerate him avoiding your questions. “What?”

“Check your front door.”

Your heart skips a beat at that, pursing your lips together at his words, throwing the covers off your body anyway. “Gyu…”

“Go open your door,” he repeats, voice soft now, almost giddy. “Please?”

“Did you send me a package?” You ask back. “I swear to God, Gyu, I’m going to be in a lot of debt just to pay you back.”

You hear the smile that blossoms on his face, even through the call. “Nonsense, baby. It’s just a small gift.”

Your mind races, breath catching in your throat as you practically throw your phone on speaker mode and stumble clumsily out of bed. With each hurried step towards your front door, your pulse thrums louder in your ears. This better not be a joke. This better not be some elaborate prank where he’s made you run to the door for nothing, or else you’ll kill him.

Pausing in front of your door, you take in a deep inhale.

Hand shaking slightly, you unlock the door and pull it open𑁋

𑁋and nearly stop breathing altogether.

Because standing right there, under the dim glow of the hallway lights, is Kim Mingyu.

Your Kim Mingyu.

Live. In person. Not pixelated through a stupid phone screen with spotty WIFI.

Kim Mingyu, in all his six-foot-something, broad-shouldered, grinning glory, standing on your doorstep with a suitcase propped by his side. His eyes glow under the dim apartment light with unrestrained joy as he takes your vulnerable appearance𑁋barefoot, hair slightly disheveled, drowning in an oversized hoodie that he bought you for Valentine’s day, your face a mixture of disbelief and awe. He’s drinking in the sight of you just as much as you’re drinking in him, standing frozen in the doorway.

“Bluetooth hug?” he requests shyly, voice slightly breathless, holding his phone up and ending the call.

Before you can even fully register everything, your body moves on autopilot. One second your feet are rooted to the floor, the next you’re launching yourself at him.

Mingyu barely has time to react before you’re in his arms, wrapping yourself around him in a tight embrace, your face burying into his chest. He lets out a soft, breathless laugh before his own large arms curl securely around you, pulling you in as close as humanly possible. His scent washes over you𑁋warm, familiar, safe𑁋and the moment his hands splay across your back, the reality of it all finally sinks in.

He’s here.

For the first time ever, he’s really, truly here.

And you’re sharing your first ever hug together. Not a Bluetooth hug, not that little hugging emoji he sends you through text. A real one.

“You idiot,” You mumble against his chest, clutching at the fabric of his sweater. “I can’t believe you𑁋”

“Believe it, baby,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the crown of your head, his hold on you tightening. “God, you feel so much better than a pillow.”

You let out something between a laugh and a sob, tilting your head up to look at him. His gaze softens instantly at the sight of you, his hands cradling your face like you’re a precious gift. For a second, his eyes drop down to your lips, before coming back up to your face. You’re so much more beautiful in person. A phone screen is incomparable.

He sucks in a breath.

“You flew here?” You ask him, still caught in a daze of disbelief.

Mingyu chuckles, his thumb caressing the skin of your cheek. “Of course, I did. Didn’t want you spending your March break alone. But, uh…” He licks his lips, eyes dipping to yours again. “I really need to kiss you right now.”

You let out a soft hum, peeking up at him with half-lidded eyes.

“Hmm, well, do you?” You murmur, allowing your fingers to trail lightly over the nape of his neck. “I think you’d have to earn it.”

Mingyu blinks at that, letting out a choked sound𑁋half-frustration, half-amusement. “I just crossed an entire ocean for you, you little devil.”

And you know you can’t counter anything back with that, because he did.

“Yeah,” is all you can say with a heartfelt look, flickering a gaze at his lips as well, granting him permission to cross that line. “You did.”

And then his lips are on yours.

It’s slow and tentative at first𑁋like he’s taking his precious time memorising the feel of your mouth against his for the first time. It’s way better than what his dreams have given him, way better than what his fantasies have showed, way better than anything else he could imagine. But then you sigh against him, melting into him completely, and a coil within him snaps.

Mingyu presses into you firmly, causing you to stumble back towards the doorframe, deepening the kiss with a low, pleased hum and a wicked smirk that you could feel. You part your lips slightly, coaxing his tongue to sweep against yours, and he swallows the sounds that elicit from your mouth. It’s full of need, full of want, full of desire. His hands tighten around your waist, fingers gripping at the fabric of your hoodie like he never wants to let go.

Your knees feel weak, almost like jelly, and you swear you might actually float away if it weren’t for the way Mingyu holds you in his grasp, the way he keeps you his.

“Sweetheart,” he rasps against your lips, the heat of his kisses blossoming its petals throughout your body. “You taste like home.”

When you pull away slightly, breathless, Mingyu chases after your lips with a small whine.

“Come on.” You take his hand in yours for the first time, and it’s almost familiar in the way he fits perfectly in your hold. You can definitely get used to this. “Let me show you around.”

It’s the last night of your March break.

Which means, it’s also Mingyu’s last night with you too.

You don’t know where all your time with him went𑁋how it passed by so quickly yet so slowly. You’ve shown him so much of your world in just this miniscule window of time, shown him various spots in your city that created a particular chapter in your life, and yet, there’s still so much you want to share with him.

You watch as Mingyu stuffs some of his belongings into his suitcase. His flight is not until the next day, but seeing him begin to pack already makes your chest squeeze tightly. You feel as if he’s already perfectly settled his way into your chaotic routine, as if he’s already belonged in your day-to-day life. Even if it’s inevitable, the thought of your relationship going back to what it once was𑁋behind a simple screen, a simple text𑁋makes your stomach twist into a knot.

But you can conquer it, right? Most of your relationship has been spent doing long distance, anyway. He could always fly back to see you again, and you could always wait for the opportunity for your schedule to be free to finally cross that threshold into his own life.

This is merely the beginning for the two of you, merely the start of something new.

“You keeping that?” Mingyu’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, his affectionate eyes watching the way you're threading your fingers through one of his shirts.

“Yeah,” You give him a faint smile. “Smells like you.”

An airy chuckle leaves him, his gaze taking in the saddened, defeated features of your face. He drops the pants he was folding up and picks himself up, sitting down right next to you at the edge of your bed. Leaning in, he presses a reassuring kiss to the tip of your nose, making your face scrunch cutely.

“You know this isn’t the end, right?” he assures, reaching out to lock a hand with yours. “I could always come visit you again. In the summer, most likely.”

“I know,” You reply dispiritedly, running a finger over his knuckle. “but I... I don’t want you to feel pressured to come visit me all the time. You have your own life, Gyu. I don’t want you to put everything on hold for me.”

Mingyu exhales softly, tilting your chin up so you're looking into those dark, warm eyes that seem to hold entire galaxies in them.

“Baby,” he murmurs tenderly. “You are my life.”

Your breath catches at that, and before you can say anything else, he’s already leaning in, capturing your mouth with a slow, sweet, loving kiss. A low whimper leaves you when he trails his lips to place one at the corner of your jaw, his hands finding its way to your waist, drawing you closer to him.

You don’t have it in you to resist𑁋you never could when you’re with him, anyway.

“I don’t care how far apart we are,” he whispers against your skin, the warmth of his breath fanning over you. “I’ll always come back to you. Every single time. I’ll make time for you, no matter what, as long as you have me.”

And you want to have him. For a long time. His words wash over you like a calm, ocean tide, one that laps deliciously up your skin and drags you deeper into his embrace. Your heart beats in time with his, and it feels like you can’t get close enough. His lips brush back along the line of your jaw, and then, with a daring shift of his mouth, he presses a soft kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear. You inhale sharply, feeling a surge of heat rush through your body.

“Gyu…” You breathe out weakly, but he hears it, of course, the way your body reacts to his touch.

“You’re so cute,” he continues, lips ghosting over the column of your neck. “My girl, my princess, my entire heart. And I’ll make this entire night worth it for you, yeah? So you don’t forget it when I leave.”

The sweet promise of his words spikes up your pulse, rendering you breathless and melting into the arms of your mattress. Mingyu pays particular attention to a sweet spot on your neck, one he’s gotten to know very well now, nipping lightly. Then he lets a hand slide under your shirt, causing you to let out a gasp. The room suddenly feels confining, almost too suffocating to breathe in, yet you crave the closeness to him, the way he makes you feel like you’re the only girl that matters in the world.

“God, I need you,” he pants thickly. “I can’t leave without having you just one last time. Will you let me, baby? Let me love you tonight?”

The only thing you can do is nod, and that’s all it takes. Mingyu slowly peppers his kisses back up to your mouth, pulling away slightly to gaze at you. Desire clouds his half-lidded eyes, but his features reveal nothing short of devotion, adoration, just pure love. Compared to his other kisses from before, the one he simply gives you next is soft, languid.

Then he pulls away from you fully to stand up, and you watch as he grabs the hems of his shirt and pulls it off effortlessly, granting you with the sight of his chiseled, sculpted torso, his honey skin glowing under the dim lighting of your bedroom.

You gulp down a lump in your throat as he steps back towards you, looming over you with the familiar, teasing smirk tugging at his face. Then he dips his head down to catch your lips in a slow, tantalising kiss. His hands find their way to your waist again, fingers pressing firmly as he gently coaxes you backward down to the bed, easing you down with him.

He delicately cages you within the safety of his arms, his warmth swallowing you whole as he hovers above you. His lips don’t just kiss𑁋longing plagues how he lingers, how he tastes you like he’s memorising every inch of your mouth, like he’s afraid to forget the way you feel beneath him once he leaves.

His body shifts slightly, pressing you further into the mattress, slotting a knee between your thighs in a way that makes your head dizzy.

When he pulls back, he relishes the flushed look to your face with pride.

“My pretty girl,” Mingyu praises under his breath, already pushing up the ends of your shirt. “I’m all yours. Always.”

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cheriecoke · 1 year ago

Text

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ BLAME IT ON THE BLACK STAR — hayakawa aki

summary . . . maybe aki’s in the wrong for all the mixed signals he sends you, but it’s your fault for always picking up the phone.

contents . . . f!reader, angst, complicated relationships, smoking, miscommunication, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, ambiguous ending, hurt/comfort i suppose — 5.6k

notes . . . this is my first time writing for aki so pls be nice i’m nervous hdjwjwk <33 i’m not all the way caught up w csm so it might be inaccurate idk

Aki calls you, sometimes, when he’s feeling lonely. You figure, by now, he must have your number memorized, with how frequently your phone ends up ringing.

Of course, you always pick up, knowing you shouldn’t, knowing it’ll just end up hurting. But you can’t help yourself, really. You’re incredibly weak for a man that you know will never commit his life to you. You learned that lesson a long time ago.

Still, you’re a fool who refuses to move on.

Instead, you stand, shivering in the cold in front of Aki’s door, waiting for him to answer it. The lights are off in the apartment — you have no idea where his new roommates are for the evening, but they clearly aren’t there. Aki wouldn’t have called you otherwise; you’re certain he doesn’t want anyone to know about the two of you, save for those that have known since the beginning.

Heavy footsteps pad across the floor, and then the lamp in the hallway flicks on, illuminating the threshold in a beam of yellow. The door unlatches, opening just a crack, as his blue eyes drift down to trail over you.

“You got here faster than I thought.”

“I’m freezing, Aki,” you say, pushing through the door. His palm falls away, rests at his sides. Its only eight o’clock, but he’s already in sweatpants, a loose sweatshirt hanging over his tall frame. Dark hair falls across his cheeks, still damp from his earlier shower.

“Sorry,” he says, shutting the door behind him. “I was in the bathroom.”

You don’t reply, and shrug your coat off instead, hanging it on the rack that is now full of jackets that don’t belong to him. But you’re barely able to get it onto the hook before Aki has a palm around your wrist, tugging you towards him, the smell of his body wash and shampoo lingering in a cloud around him.

A little welp of surprise leaves you as you spin around, nearly falling into his chest. Instead, you collide with his mouth, the heat already settling down on you as heavily as it always does when Aki is around.

He kisses you, long and hard, hungry for the taste of you, his head craned down to meet your height. For a moment, you let him. It’s sweet and familiar, all the things you’ve ever wanted.

In moments like these, you indulge in thoughts of a life where things are different. A life where Aki can greet you at the door, smile when you kiss him, instead of the pensive expression he always wears. A life where Aki doesn’t come home with new scars every few days, where he isn’t hell-bent on a goal you’re not sure he can ever achieve.

That dream of yours won’t ever become a reality, but it doesn’t stop you from savoring the taste of his mouth against your own — how much you’ve missed it, even when you shouldn’t.

When you’ve run out of air to breathe, you push him away, and Aki stands straight, blinking like he doesn’t know what he’s done wrong.

“Not even going to offer to make me dinner?” you ask, keeping him at a distance. Although you meant for it to sound playful, teasing, it comes off full of a bitter resentment. Your face is probably drawn up into a scowl, even if you can’t see it.

Aki blinks, rubbing his forearm. His lips part, then he shuts them, furrowing his eyebrows together. “You said you were cooking — over the phone, you said you’d already eaten.”

“Well, at least you remember that.”

Confusion spreads even further, tighter, stretching to every corner of his expression. Aki’s hands twitch listlessly at his side, just as his mouth does. “Are you upset with me?” he asks, and you know he’s smarter than that, that he might not be the most sensitive to others’ emotions, but he is certainly no fool when it comes to yours. “If you didn’t want to come over tonight, I wasn’t forcing you.”

A laugh almost escapes you — instead, you muster up a cool grimace. Like you aren’t going drop everything for Aki every time he says I don’t want to be alone tonight.

Really, it was laughable how tightly he had you in the palm of his hand, and you can’t fathom that he would think otherwise. You’ve always done whatever he needed; given him whatever he wanted.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in the hospital?” you ask finally, swallowing back your annoyance as you gesture towards the bandage around his arm. It’s wrapped up tight, but the bandages are fresh, still a starched white.

His eyebrows tighten further. The air around him changes, even though his expression doesn’t. “Who told you about that?”

“Himeno.”

Aki purses his lips. “I didn’t realize you two were friends now.”

You did laugh then, shaking your head as you make your way into the living room, looking for any subtle changes in his apartment. There are new pairs of shoes that certainly don’t belong to him, a sweatshirt that looks about two sizes too small.

“I wouldn’t really say we’re friends,” you shrug, not bothering to look at him. The air in the room is somehow off-putting, and you take it in like it’s the first you’d ever seen of the place. “But how else am I supposed to find out if you’re still alive?”

You give him a sad little smile, and slowly, the irritation seeps out of his face, his shoulders slumping. He looks tired, then — far too old for a man that is still so young.

“It wasn’t that serious. I’m fine now, aren’t I?” Aki gestures to his arm, flails it wildly, as if to prove it’s still working properly. “Just a scratch.”

“It is serious. It’s serious to me,” you say, narrowing your eyes, and though his tone is warmer, he doesn’t smile at you, not like he used to. He maintains a vague air of surprise, while dampening any emotion that could cloud over his lack of understanding. It annoys you to no end, that he won’t let you see him.“I’m always worried about you, idiot. Don’t act like you don’t know how I feel about you.”

Aki blinks, then draws his lips together in a thin line, shaking his head. Although you were pointedly avoiding each other’s gazes, you could feel the tension drawing you together like a cord.

God, you missed him every time you were apart. You went to your regular job, thought all day about the man who would never love you like you loved him, wondering if he was okay, if he’d pick up the phone and call you again next week. Or if, one day, it would be Himeno instead, telling you that you’d never see him again — or, god forbid, Makima, with her careless tone of authority. That thought alone haunts you even with your eyes open.

But for now, it’s still Aki who calls you, and every time, you are overwhelming relieved to hear the sound of his voice again. Heavy tears always drop down your cheeks as you dig the phone into your ear, wishing that it was his mouth there instead, and wishing that those pretty blue eyes still looked at you with the same sort of softness they once had.

“I told you…” Aki begins sharply, but then he trails off, finally meeting your gaze. His features pinch once more, melodramatic, as he scans the sadness that you could never hide in your expression. “Damn it.” Car lights flash over his face through the window as someone drives past the apartment complex. The darkness of the room becomes even more evident when they disappear.

“I know,” you say, resigned, as you watch him scrub his hands over his face, and inhale heavily. It’s hard for you to keep your emotions from getting the best of you. “You’ve reminded me — many times. I know this doesn’t mean we’re back together. I know, Aki.”

His jaw parts, lips faltering at the beginning of a phrase. Despite his tall frame, he falters, looking so small, as sadness filters into the eyes that shine a deep navy in the shade of the evening. Beside him his fingers twitch, curling up into his palm, before he takes two long strides towards you.

The mere second it takes him to get there passes without your memory, and your back hits the door to his bedroom, softly, as he looms over you, fingers brushing your cheeks.

A thousand times you’ve been in this position, and it’s so familiar that your hand reaches up instinctively, splaying across his chest. Aki’s breaths leave him, deeply, expanding through his lungs before he exhales them across your cheekbones, oxygen splitting at the bridge of your nose. “What’s wrong?” you ask quietly, blinking up at him from under your lashes.

“That’s not what I meant.” His voice comes out on a hoarse whisper.

“Hm?” You dig your fingers into his sweatshirt, the material thick and warm. “What did you mean?”

Tenderly, his thumb brushes across the hollows of your cheek, the sharp bone that juts out. Aki’s fingertips are so rough and calloused, but that familiarity brings a sob out of you, your hands springing up to grab his wrists. “That I’m not fooling anyone,” Aki says, swallowing, eyes roaming all over your face. “That I can’t stay away from you, no matter how hard I try.”

Your lips part, but your breath is stolen away by another kiss, blanketing your mouth, warm and with an emotion that you’re certain you can taste. It takes you less than a moment for you to close your eyes, to relax into him as always, melt into his familiarity. The taste of the cigarettes he smokes lingers on his tongue, seeping deep into your own lungs.

As he bumps his nose with your own, you reach up, run your fingers through his hair, untangling all the knots that have accumulated since his shower. At the same time, Aki palms at the door behind you, not bothering to look up as he fumbles for the door handle, slipping it open.

Aki always kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever do it, struggling to unglue you from himself. He kisses you like he knows he’s going to leave again, and it might be for the very last time.

It’s a sickening emotion to live with, but you’ve accepted it all the same.

You ignore the feelings that never leave you alone when you’re with Aki, and stumble backwards into the room, feet catching under you. Although you nearly fall, Aki catches you, arms heavy around your waist, large palm spreading across your lower back.

“You’re so pretty,” he says, nearly carrying you to his bed. The two of you latch so tightly onto the other, that you will surely go tumbling down if either of you makes the wrong move. “I’ve never met anyone as pretty as you.”

“Aki,” you mumble, shaking your head. “I don’t want to hear that.”

He stumbles, and you do fall onto the bed, then, his heavy body on top of you, landing with a thud. But he’s careful to catch himself, to tuck his arms into the space beside you, as he kisses across your cheeks, down your neck, to your chest.

“Why?” he asks into your skin, voice low and rough. “You don’t think you’re pretty?” his tone is dry, sarcastic. Aki’s fingers fumble with the zipper on your jeans, slipping your pants off faster than you can inhale a fresh set of air into your lungs. “Want me to prove it to you?”

Despite your lingering resentment, you crack a smile, shift your hips so he can pull your bottoms off completely. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll fall in love with me again?” you say off-handedly, running your hands along the edge of his shirt, before slipping cold fingers under it. His skin is hot there, abdomen soft, muscle just as lean as it was last week, but stronger than when you’d first met him.

Aki’s eyes soften. “Why would I be afraid of a thing like that?”

You don’t like the double meaning in his words, and you don’t want to read into it. Instead, you pull Aki back down to your mouth, hoping he’ll take and take from you, even though he’s always one to give. The one who calls you, who needs to be inside of you, but won’t worry about himself until you’ve come apart at least once.

“Feels like it’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” he says, pushing your thighs further apart, muttering the words against your lips. His fingers graze the outside of your panties, as you slowly begin to wet them with desire that burns hot in your stomach. “I missed you.”

You feel his smile curl as he kisses across your chest, around your collarbones, and you sit up far enough to slide your shirt off. Aki does the same — there are fresh scars on his body, healing wounds. You can’t look at them for too long, before grief rises up in you, mourning a man that is not yet dead.

“Whose fault is that?” you ask bitterly, pushing the top of his head to sink him to your thighs. Instead, he takes his time pressing his mouth around your belly, swirling his tongue just past your hips.

A sigh leaves you, and you sink deeper into the mattress, eyes blinking closed. He’s so slow, so deliberate with every movement, like he’s been waiting all of this time just to lose himself in you. Ridiculous, really, considering that he could have you at anytime, and he knows it.

You’d hate him for it, for stringing you along like this, but that would be hypocritical, really. You’re the fool that continues to play the game.

Aki ignores your passing comment, squeezing your thighs as his face drifts down your body. His hair brushes against your bare skin, still a bit damp, but so soft, the scent of his soap so familiar you could pick out the shampoo with your eyes closed.

“Want my fingers or my mouth first?” Aki whispers into the inside of your thigh, kissing the delicate skin there as he looks up at you from under thick, black lashes. They flutter over his cheekbones, the hollows of his eyes, and he’s so pretty… it’s no wonder you’re so far gone for him. “Since you’re in such a mood tonight, I’ll let you choose.”

There’s a tiny smirk on his face, and even though you’re about to answer, Aki takes it upon himself to kiss your cunt through your panties, the fabric sticking to your skin.

“A-aki,” you stutter, caught off-guard, fingers lacing through his hair, nails scratching against his scalp. “You didn’t give me a chance to answer.”

He drags his tongue up your clothed cunt, wetting it even further, so you can’t tell if you’re soaked from his spit or your own arousal. “I picked instead. Like the way you moan when my mouth’s on you,” he says off-handedly, and heat rushes to your cheeks as you stare at the ceiling, still so shy when it comes to his dirty mouth. “No one’s here,” Aki continues, words vibrating against the bone, puffs of air drifting around your sensitive area. “Want you to be loud.”

A tiny laugh escapes you, but it is quickly stolen by a whimper as he sucks your clit into his mouth through the cotton of your underwear, an old pair that was anything but sexy. Although, you’ve known Aki for so long, been with him for so long, there’s never any reason to try and impress him.

“Feels good,” you say, closing your eyes as you rest on the pillow. Aki pushes his tongue against your hole, teasing. His fingers dig deeper into the flesh of your thighs, keeping them from locking around his head as you search for more friction. Your chest rises and falls with the heat of your breathing, but Aki doesn’t let you rub yourself against his tongue, doesn’t let you move much, really. “Aki,” you whine, and though there are times when he doesn’t let you get your way, this isn’t one of them.

“So impatient,” he says cheekily, but he slips your panties to the side, your cunt vulnerable to the frigid winter air. You shiver, and he sinks his tongue into you completely, the heat of it warming you as he swirls it inside, spreading you further open with his fingers.

Your body grows hot all over when Aki thrusts his tongue in and out of your aching walls, your juices seeping onto his tongue. He moves slowly, savoring every moment that you’re in his bed, even as you try to arch into him, speed him up so that you can orgasm faster. He’s right: you are impatient, because it’s been days since you’ve last felt him inside of you, and nothing feels as good as Aki’s thick fingers and cock.

His nose bumps your clit as he drags his tongue in a thick stripe up your cunt. A moan leaves you, and without thinking, you jerk your hips up, forcing them towards his face. The sound from your chest is so lewd, and you’ll feel shy about how loud you were later, but all you can think about is his mouth on you.

Aki smiles, kisses the inside of your thigh. When he lifts his head, the ache inside you burns deeper, the sight of him with saliva and fluid dripping down his chin almost too much for you to handle. “Taste so good,” he hums, massaging the skin around your knees, hoisting your calves up over his shoulder blades. “Think you can cum from just my tongue, baby? You’re so pent up, I don’t think you can last much longer.”

You whimper, pressing your heels into his back as Aki’s tongue resumes lapping up your cunt, long and hot, massaging the most sensitive spots inside of you. You can tell he’s hard, aching as he shifts his hips awkwardly, trying not to press them in the bed.

Aki picks up his speed, head bobbing slightly as the heat insides of you builds; normally, you would’ve lasted longer, but you can’t remember the last time you’ve even touched yourself, and your most recent orgasm must have been with Aki.

You don’t tell him when you’re close, but he already knows, sucking harder on your clit as you finally come, body jerking into him, walls spasming. Your eyes squeeze shut, and his name leaves your lips much quieter than he would’ve liked.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Aki says, tugging off his sweatpants, the only layer between you and his cock. His dark hair is slightly mussed from your fingers, the way you’d pulled at him, tried to guide him where you wanted him, even if he already knew. “So easy for you to get me hard, you know that?” His cock is leaking at the tip, desperate for release, and you haven’t even touched him yet. “Just the thought of you spread out like this is enough.”

A desperate whine leaves you, and you reach behind, unclasping the straps of your bra, the last remaining garment between you and Aki. He grins at that, his canines so sharp, teeth a little crooked, but the prettiest smile you’d ever seen because you see it so rarely.

“Gonna play with those pretty tits while I fuck you, baby?”

“Fuck, Aki, please,” you groan, reaching for him, pulling his mouth to your own. You kiss him hard, hoping that he knows you love him, and hoping that he feels guilty about that fact. “Want you inside me. God, I need you so bad.”

He presses his forehead to your own, lining his cock up with your entrance, the head prodding at your gaping walls. You get so sensitive, even from just one orgasm, that you wince a little bit. But the uncomfortable feeling eases as he presses into you, kisses you sweetly.

“Fuck, fuck,” Aki groans, biting down hard on your shoulder. “God, you’re so wet, so warm. You feel so good around my cock, baby. Such a pretty girl for me.”

Your nails dig into his back as he slides, slowly, out of you, before he thrusts back in, still not rough enough for your liking. Aki’s hair falls around his face, his mouth parting just a bit, focus dilating his irises. His biceps flex as he holds himself off the bed, snapping his hips into your aching cunt.

“H-harder,” you mumble, trying not to shout, to moan too loudly into the open air of the evening. Aki’s walls are far too thin, and his neighbors know who you are. The last thing you want is for them to see you as Aki’s fuck-buddy that moans like a bitch in heat. “Please, sweetheart.”

Aki groans, a deep sound that reverberates all the way from his chest down to his stomach. The affectionate name twists something up in him, and Aki thrusts his hips faster, kisses your forehead, your cheeks, any part of your skin that he can get his mouth on. His hair tickles your jaw, nose nudging against your face as he mumbles into your skin, “so needy, aren’t you? I want to take my time with you, and you just want to get off.”

“Can’t help it, Aki,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut tight as you buck your hips upward. “God, you feel so good, I lo—”

You stop the words from leaving your mouth, but Aki already knows. He’s known it for a while now, and you should be embarrassed by the fact that you can’t let him go.

Wide blue eyes stare back at you, full of something you can’t define, but still so soft as he pulls away. He draws you closer, slides your legs around his hips before pinning your own to the bed with large, heavy palms. Aki’s built with all lean muscle, and he’s so tall — so much taller than you that it’s easy to forget because he treats you so gently. Still, he blankets your body, makes you feel small in the nicest way.

Because you know that even though he can never commit his love to you, he’d never let anything — human or devil — lay a finger on you. You love him, you love him, you love him.

Aki follows your wishes, sinks faster inside of you as you exhale heavily. Your nails dig into his back so tightly that you start to worry you’ll break the skin. But Aki loses himself in the feeling of you, panting into your chest as he moves his hips.

“F-fuck,” he mutters, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m not going to last long inside you like this. Maybe I should slow down—”

“No, no, I’m close,” you stumble over your words, meeting Aki’s intense eyes, a thousand emotions relayed in them as he blinks at you. “It’s okay.”

“God,” he mutters, whispers the word between you, even though you’re certain he hasn’t believed in him for a while, and you’re not sure you do either. “I don’t deserve you.”

You wonder if Aki meant to say that at all, so you let it go, let the words exist between you as if they were never there at all.

His palm guides it’s way across your stomach, the touch featherlight, before he reaches for your breast, thumb flicking across your nipple. The nail catches, and you moan, almost there once more. Aki’s cock hitting all the right places, so much better than your own fingers.

“Aki,” you say his name over and over, your mind going numb from thinking about him.

“I know,” Aki mutters against your lips, hot air ghosting across them on his exhale. “You’re okay. Let go for me, baby. Did so good for me, want you to cum on my cock.”

His voice, so deep and rough in your ears, sends you over the edge, and a sound forces its way up your throat as you clench down on him, your cunt spasming from your orgasm. It hits you harder than you’d been anticipating, legs squeezing around Aki’s hips as you dig your toes into the mattress.

“There we go,” Aki wipes your hair away from your face, kissing your temples, so gently that you think you might cry. It’s not fair for him to be so sweet, so loving when you know he’s going to kick you out of his apartment before the night is over. “My pretty girl. Shit,” Aki mumbles, cursing lowly before pulling out of you, quick, and spilling into his palm. It takes him less than a stroke down the length of his cock, the thick cum spurting out, falling onto your hips, beside you on the mattress.

It’s not your mess to clean, though, and you can’t bring yourself to care. Breathing heavily, you watch Aki fumble for something on his nightstand, before he gives up, wiping his wet hand on the already soiled bedsheets. Then, he collapses down onto his side, staring, watching your chest rise and fall.

“Aki,” you say, turning away from his eyes to stare at the ceiling, the cracked plaster, stained from water leaks. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Silence falls across the room, and you can’t bear to look at him, refusing to see the indifference on his face. There’s nothing, he says nothing, before sitting back up, shuffling through the nightstand once more.

The beams of streetlights sway against his silhouette, encased in a beautiful swirl of purple and navy hues. His hair seems an even darker curtain, coiling around his jaw as he hides from you, hides the emotion that was less than evident on his face.

You sigh, and flip back on your side.

Aki takes a few drags of the cigarette, puffing them into the stale air. It reeks, probably, in the tiny bedroom, but all you can smell is the tangy scent of Aki’s soap, the lavender that lingers on his skin, the cleanness of the linens that have been recently washed. This apartment, sometimes, feels more like home than your lonely one does, even though being with Aki is almost like being on your own, sometimes.

“Those things are going to kill you,” you say under your breath, still fascinated by the way the smoke draws deep into his lungs, puffs out in a cloud, relaxes him easily. His veiny palms flex, long, slender fingers holding the cigarette between them.

Aki doesn’t laugh, but it’s close to one, a snort almost, as he breathes again. “Not like I’ll be alive much longer, anyway.”

“You sound like Himeno.”

“Do I?”

You sniff, and scoot up against the wall, sitting beside him. Despite your argument, you take the cigarette from him, smoke it yourself, and place your lips around the exact place where Aki’s had been. He watches with the same rapt fascination, blinking slowly, before staring at the ceiling as you had before.

It’s Himeno he should be with now, really. Another Devil Hunter. A woman he can fuck without getting his feelings all mixed up, someone who probably understands him better than you do. He’s never loved her like he loved you, and she wouldn’t take offense to it either, you think.

But it’s you he calls instead. It’s you who is too weak to leave.

“I’m sorry,” Aki whispers.

“So am I.”

You reach across him, press the cigarette into the ashtray and drop what’s left of it amongst the other ends. Aki’s fingertips dance along your spine as you do so, and you wish he wouldn’t touch you, wish he’d just kick you out of the bed, toss you out of the apartment, spit at you like you weren’t anything but a whore.

Instead, he kisses your shoulder, draws you in close, curls his tall frame around your body, and drags you back down into the bed.

It hurts more than you want to admit, because this is what you want. You’d truly go the rest of your life, never have sex with him again, if he’d always hold you like you meant something to him.

“I need to go home,” you say, remembering that you still haven’t eaten dinner, that you’d left your things in disarray, your clothes unfolded on your bed. There was never a reason to before, because with Aki, you’d always go home, just before the last train. You’d be tucked into your bed that same evening after a nice shower. “Aki…”

“Stay.” He kisses your collarbone and shoulder again, throws his thigh over your own, and traps you against his body. “Please stay. You can wear that T-shirt of mine you like so much. I’ll make you breakfast. You can meet Power and Denji, and then I’ll take you home tomorrow morning.”

You swallow, damning your weak-willed heart for succumbing so easily. Fingers curl around his wrists as you bask in his embrace, how warm he is, despite normally running so cold. “Aki,” you whisper again, tears welling along your eyelashes. “You can’t do this to me. Please don’t do this to me.”

“Do what?” His voice is just as quiet as your own, and he’s still kissing you, holding you like you’re something precious. But he is surely not that stupid about your feelings, to how he has been tearing you apart for the past year, even though you let him.

You sniff, trying not to cry, never wanting to embarrass yourself, even if you have sobbed in his arms on numerous occasions. “You must know that I love you. I’ll never stop loving you. Even if I marry someone after you die, I’m certain your name will still be etched into the chains on my heart. I’m just a stupid, dumb girl.”

He says nothing, and you do cry, then, tears streaming down your face as you twist away, stare out the curtained window, the thin fabric fluttering from the heat that kicks on.

“Please don’t call me anymore. Just let me hurt for awhile, so I can get over you. You’re so selfish, so selfish, why can’t I just move on?” You bury your face in your hands, wipe your tears, try to fight against him as he pulls you into his strong chest, kisses the top of your head. Still, even then, even when you want to hate him, you’re putty in his heads, melting and craving the place in his arms that feels like home.

“I can’t let you go,” Aki says, wiping your tears. “Fuck, I can’t — I need you. Do you understand? I need you, and I know I’m a selfish piece of shit, but I don’t want you to move on.” He frowns, clenching his jaw, twisting his expression up. “I’ll be better.”

“Aki—”

“I’ll love you like you need, honey. I thought,” Aki scrubs his palm over his face, the other still stroking across your back. “I thought it’d make it easier, all this distance between us, to let you go. I can’t put you in danger, but I can’t stop loving you either.”

You inhale sharply, leaning your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, committing the harmony to your memory. Who knows how much longer it will be in there, how much longer Aki will allow it to exist before he destroys himself completely.

“Aki, you’ll never love me like I need, because you’ll always put your work first,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “I realized that a long time ago.”

He shifts, pushing you away so you could look each other in the eye, the astounding resoluteness in his irises. How serious he was about trying to be someone he was not. “I can try.”

You sob.

And you wish you could just say no; say no and walk away, forget his name, never answer the phone again, never call Himeno to check up and make sure he’s still breathing.

But you can’t — it’ll never be that easy.

Pushing him away, you rest your head back on the pillow, trying to make yourself comfortable as you turn your back to him. Perhaps, the morning will give you clarity. You’ll stay, but you’re not sure for how long.

“I’m tired.”

Aki curls against you, rests his arm around your hip, kisses your neck, cheek, temple. “Okay,” he relents, holding you close, chest pressed against your spine. “I meant what I said about breakfast. Maybe we can talk about it then?”

You want to say no, but you won’t. He’ll kiss you in the morning, and you’ll kiss him back. Settle on your knees and give him a blowjob while he’s still groggy, before slipping on his T-shirt, chattering off his ear as he makes you breakfast. You’ll probably even curl your arms around his stomach from behind, stand on you tiptoes to reach the space between his shoulder blades.

Power and Denji will come home at some point, and probably say something rude, as Aki says they do to everyone. Then you’ll go home, and you’ll still be in love with him, and Aki will forget the conversation even happened, because he’ll say anything to get you to stay.

Or, maybe, he’s being honest. Maybe he will love you like you want him to.

Less than likely.

“Okay, Aki,” you agree, too tired to argue or acknowledge the emptiness in your stomach. “We’ll talk about it in then.”

reblogs appreciated!! thank you for reading!

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bear-yawns · 3 months ago

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　𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗚𝗥𝗢𝗪 𝗙𝗢𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥.　franco colapinto · #43

genres : fluff ... established relationship ... franco x fem!reader.　 request : anon for franco + sleeping on their chest for the 100 event.　word count : 0.8k.　warnings : partial long distance relationship ... they're both really clingy ... spanish petnames in italics ... not proofread.　 note : my franco 💔💔 honestly really hoping he gets a chance to drive this season cause i just miss him!!!　　　( masterlist )　( taglist )

Long distance was never easy for any couple. Some swore that long distance could never work, while others tried it and found it too hard to maintain. For you and Franco, it was a small price to pay compared to the happiness of being together, but it didn’t make it any easier. You both made do as best as you could.

While he flew out every other weekend for races, you ended up sacrificing your sleep schedule for daily video chats, even if they only ended up being five minutes long. You didn’t have much time off work, but you saved up the few vacation days you could for the rare trip out to Europe to tag along to a race or two. You loved being in the paddock with him, seeing his excitement for the cars first hand. It was always hard to be away from him, and travelling with him meant those small extra hours together.

Goodbyes were your least favourite part of it all. Once he was already gone, you could count down the days until he was back, but before he left, there was only a sense of dread filling your body at the thought of the inevitable. Franco had already packed his suitcase, and you had double and triple checked it for him. He was more forgetful than he would like to admit, so you always made sure he brought everything he needed.

You were cuddled up in bed, ready to sleep although neither of you felt tired yet. You laid completely on top of him, arms around his waist, cheek resting against his chest, his fingers dancing along your spine. There was a silence and hesitance in the air as neither of you wanted to talk. His flight was in a few hours, and this was your last chance to hold him before he would be gone for more than two weeks.

There was so much you would miss about him as soon as he was gone. He had only been back for two days, and him having to leave already felt cruel. You wished for more time to be able to soak up his presence. His soft teasing words, his familiar scent, his silky curls, his light breathless laugh, his whispered te amo’s and mi cariño’s— you would miss them all bitterly as soon as he was gone.

“You really have to go?” you whispered, the words barely heard as your lips pressed against his hoodie. His fingers paused their rhythmic back and forth across your back, instead trailing down to your waist.

“It’s only two weeks.”

“Two and a half,” you corrected.

“Two and a half, then I’m right back in your arms, amor,” he repeated softly. You frowned. No matter how many times he tried to reassure you, it wouldn’t stop how badly you would miss him. And no matter how many times you wished he didn’t have to leave, it wouldn’t prevent him from going.

“You still need to call me as soon as you land. Even if it’s just for five minutes,” you mumbled. Tiredness seeped into your voice and body from the lulling nature of his steady strokes on your back which he had resumed, and the quiet raspy inflection of his voice when he called you amor.

“It’ll be the first thing I do.”

You looked up to find him studying you fondly, eyes poking a silent teasing “what?” at you when your gaze fell to his lips. He knew you would kiss him. You always did before falling asleep. Even if he was already deep in his dreams. And this time it lasted a bit longer than normal. You knew you wouldn’t have the opportunity for a long time. You tried to memorize the feeling of his plush lips on yours again, even though it was already concretely fixed in the back of your mind like it had its own special spot. It was something that would never leave your brain.

“Happier now?” Franco asked, trailing his hand up to tuck some of your hair out of your face. Your fingers had found their way into his curls during the kiss, as they often did.

“Marginally. My heart will still break tomorrow,” you complained.

“I’ll put all the pieces back together as soon as I can,” he promised, lips curving in amusement at your constant clinginess. As if he didn’t feel the exact same way. It was exhausting to be apart from you for more than a few days. You always made life feel so easy and lively for Franco. It was rather dull without you.

You kissed his nose— one of his most perfect features, and settled back into his arms. His heartbeat reached your ears, and your breathing naturally matched it.

“You make it hard to be apart from you, mi vida,” you whispered. He held you a bit tighter.

The distance was always unwanted, but perhaps it made the small quiet moments together even more precious.

franco taglist: @caffeineboi,, @divierses

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yandere-daydreams · 2 years ago

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Not-So-Scary Moments With The Yan. Genshin Boys (Sumeru + Fontaine Edition).

Characters: Alhaitham, Neuvillette, Kaveh, Tighnari, Cyno, and Wriothesley.

Word Count: 2.7k.

TW: Borderline Shitposting, Prolonged Imprisonment, Varying Levels of Emotional and Physical Abuse, Codependency, Mentions of Stalking, and Unhealthy Relationships.

Alhaitham

It took Alhaitham about ten minutes to drag himself out of bed, his staggered footsteps audible through the thin walls of his apartment.

It took twenty for him to haul himself through his morning routine – water running somewhere in the distance and porcelain clattering against marble countertops as he washed his face and tried to work some life into himself. Alhaitham usually wasn’t so lethargic, but he’d had a rough week. There’d been a sudden influx of paperwork for the Akademiya’s sole scribe, and every second he didn’t spend buried under new legislation and requests for increased budging was, instead, dedicated to one of his many personal research projects. By the time he’d gotten home last night, it’d been all he could do to make sure you hadn’t starved to death and drag himself to bed.

He usually would’ve kept you waiting for a few more minutes, but an agitated grunt marked an end to his normal patterns. In a moment, he was braced against the doorway to his own study, his eyes narrowed half-hearted towards where you sat in his leather-padded chair, your feet propped on his desk. There was an book open in your lap – one of his, something about metaphysics and ley line abnormalities and how both tied into the Inazuman politics. He eyed it wearily before speaking, his voice still deep with exhaustion. “Where did you put my hearing aids?”

His tone was accusatory, his irritation visible. You put on your sweetest smile. “Where did you put my novellas?” you signed, thinking for a moment before adding, “Bitch?”

“They aren’t ‘novellas’, they’re—” He cut himself off with a scoff. “They’re filth. I don’t want you rotting your brain with smut.”

“The plots are very—”

“The plots are half-baked excuses for paper-thin characters to fondle each other in locations you can tell the author didn’t take the time to properly research and—” His gaze flickered to you, his frown deepening. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“You’ve read them?”

There was a long beat of silence.

Finally, he let out a labored sigh. “The dozen or so I couldn’t be bothered to throw away are in a cabinet underneath the kitchen sink. It’s locked – the code is your birthday. Now, where are my aids?”

“You fell asleep with them on last night,” you said aloud, abandoning his glorified textbook and pushing yourself to your feet. His hand shot to the side of his head, finding the metallic cuff only slightly displaced by having spent the better half of the night on his head. As you passed him, you paused, pressing a kiss into the corner of his scowl and pretending to ignore the muffled groan he let out in response.

Neuvillette

Of all the sights you thought you might see after arriving in your wonderous new nation, the Iudex of Fontaine standing over your drained bathtub with a look of potent remorse written across his expression was not one of them.

You’d imagined yourself strolling through the walls of the Opera Epiclese in vivid detail, been able to picture exactly what you might’ve seen standing below the Tower of Ipsissimus or above the bottomless pit that was the entrance to the Fortress of Meropide, but even after you’d found yourself in the smothering care of Monsieur Neuvillette, you never would’ve been able to conjure this sight. He usually insisted that you bathe together, going so far as to have an in-ground tub that could’ve easily been mistaken for a hot spring installed in his (until recently neglected) personal residence to better indulge the habit. Thankfully, the trial he’d been presiding over had run long today, and you’d been able to save yourself an hour of his calloused hands running over your body, of his eyes burning into your skin with a nearly inhuman focus. You knew he’d be disappointed. Irate, even, depending on how his trial swung.

You hadn’t expected him to be so… sulky about it.

Half-lidded eyes, a slight pout tugging at the corner of his lips as he lingered idly in the doorway between your shared bedroom and the in-suite bathroom. Steam and silence laid heavy in the air – the latter you were eventually forced to break as you fiddled with the hem of your robe. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, hoping more to break the tension than to make him think you were genuinely apologetic. “It was getting late, and I didn’t know when you were coming home. I didn’t think you’d take it so personally.” When he didn’t respond, you braced yourself for the worst. “If you’re angry, please say so. I… I’d rather get this over with now, if it’s all the same to you.”

His expression softened. He let out an airy sigh and, with only a moment of hesitation, closed the space between you. “I’m not angry.” A pair of lean arms wrapped around your waist, his face soon buried in the crook of your neck. You heard him inhale, and did what you could to suppress the shudder that ran up your spine at the thought of him basking in your scent. “I’ve just been… looking forward to it, I suppose. Your taste relaxes me.”

Immediately, you went rigid. “My… taste?”

“Mhm.”

“Neuvillette,” you started, very slowly, giving your own mind time to catch up to the dread slowly building in the pit of your stomach. “Have you been drinking my bathwater?”

He was quiet for a not inconsiderable amount of time.

Finally, he pulled away from you just far enough to speak. “…no?”

For your own sake, you decided to believe him.

Kaveh

“Kaveh.”

“Not now, treasure.”

“Go to bed.”

“I will, in another hour.”

“You need to get some sleep.”

“I’ve already told you – I’m fine.” He narrowed his eyes, expression contorted by concentration. “Knight to B4.”

“Kaveh,” you repeated, leaning across the table. “You were showing me your blueprints.”

“Oh.” He blinked several times, looking over the sheet of blue paper marked with chalk drawings and near indecipherable hand-writing. “Were you impressed?”

Your frown irked, but you swallowed back your exasperation and pushed yourself to your feet. Slowly, you took him by the hand and, when he failed to protest, guided him out of his own seat and towards the room you were usually restrained to, when he wasn’t home. He’d kept himself awake for the past two nights, every moment of the past forty-eight hours devoted to finishing his proposal for a wealthy commissioner’s summer mansion before its upcoming deadline and, now that the coffee had been drained from his system and his adrenaline had been given time to fade, he was practically a shell of a man – all dark circles and hunched posture and disheveled blonde hair.

Sleep deprivation was, by far, the worst thing he could inflict on himself. At least he was happy after he drunk himself into oblivion. This was just depressing; as miserable for him as it was for you.

With a dutifulness you shouldn’t have had to show to your lover-turned-stalker-turned-captor, you brought him to his bed and watched as he collapsed onto it, what little strength he had to hold himself up immediately dissolving. With a sigh, a roll of your eyes, you turned to leave, but a hand lashed out from the crumpled heap and caught you by the wrist. “Stay with me?” His voice was muffled by layers of sheets and blankets, but clear enough. “Please?”

Usually, his bids for affection were met with bitter neutrality or, on your worse days, spiteful condensation. Usually, you would’ve torn yourself out of his hold and made sure he knew that he’d ruined any chance of living out his little domestic fantasy the second he decided his obsession was worth more than your happiness. Usually, you would’ve hated him that much more for daring to ask.

But, he could barely hold his eyes open and when you failed to immediately recoil, the sloppiest, most lovesick smile you’d ever seen plastered itself across his lips. It was his turn to pull you forward, this time; to drag you onto his bed and into his chest. With a satisfied sigh, he slotted his chin against the dip of your shoulder and draped his arms around your waist – an old position. A relic of better times you’d never been strong enough to completely dicard. “When it’s time to draw up the plans for our home,” he mumbled, only half-audible. “I won’t so much as breathe until its perfect.”

You opened your mouth, but didn’t say anything.

He’d already fallen asleep.

Tighnari

He glanced once at the thick packet of ink-marked parchment you’d slammed in front of him before looking back to you, his expression disparaging. “And this is supposed to be…?”

“A custody agreement,” you answered, grinning. “Alhaitham put it together during his last visit.”

“We don’t have any kids.”

“It’s for Collei. If I ever leave you,” and, to be clear, you would be leaving him, as soon as you figured out how to get away from a man who poisoned your tea whenever you so much as suggested entertaining a future that didn’t include him, “I want weekends and summers.”

“She’s nineteen.”

“Which is why we’re letting her pick who she wants to spend holidays with.” You tapped the front page with your knuckles. “Honestly, dear, if you weren’t going to so much as read the documents, we could’ve scheduled this for another day.”

His ears twitched, his tail sweeping across the floor in irritation. “Even if this was legally binding – which, by the way, something assembled by a scribe would not be – I would never give you weekends. That’d be too much travelling for a girl in her condition, and I don’t want her to feel like she comes from a broken home. Moreover, according to Regulation #531 as passed by the Grand Sage last year, you would have to get Collei’s signature before—”

“Check page twenty-seven.”

You watched him scowl as he thumbed through the pages. A second later, his ears flattened against his scalp, and he took to muttering under his breath. “Traitor.”

“If you don’t want your aggression towards the dependent party used against you in court, I’d suggest you sign on page four, seventeen, and thirty-two.”

You left his villa half an hour later with a with a new imprint of his fangs on the side of your throat and a signed document in-hand.

Cyno

“You have kidnapped me.”

“Technically, I was only—”

“You’ve blackmailed me, imprisoned me, and tortured me.”

“You can’t still be hung up on—”

“You’ve branded me with your name, forced me into your bed, and made me play out all your delusional, fucked-up fantasies—” You took a deep breath, pursed your lips. “—but if you show up to a black-tie event wearing that, it will be the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.”

He looked down, as if considering his attire for the first time. He was in his usual uniform – which was to say, shirtless and barefoot, his hair windblown and a fine layer of sand still coating what little he was wearing. You could only be thankful his polearm wasn’t slung across his back, but you knew he’d make it past the door without it. “The way I dress has never been a problem before.”

“There’s a difference between hunting down rouge scholars and going to a banquet being held by a literal god. Archons, Lesser Lord Kusanali herself might be there.” You gasped, dragged your hands over your face. “Everyone who’s ever gone to the Akademiya will absolutely be there.”

For all his many faults, he could never stand to see you in pain. There was a brief delay, a moment of unsure shuffling, then his arms were wrapping around you, his chest slotting against your back has he pulled you against him. “It’ll be alright,” he muttered, speaking into your shoulder. “If anyone so much as attempts to insult you—no, if anyone tries to talk to you at all, I’ll strike them down in the blink of an eyes.”

His comfort was stale, but you forced yourself to relax. At least enough to speak. “You know,” you mumbled, letting your hands drift to your temples. “Dehya was hired by an up-and-coming scholar, a few weeks ago. I’m not sure how long her contract was, but there’s a chance we’ll see her tonight.”

There was a beat of silence, then another.

“Cyno?”

“I’ll change.”

Wriothesley

You could hear him trudging up the metallic stairs to his office; his footsteps heavy enough to drown out the soft music flowing out of his century-old gramophone. His head emerged from the curving staircase, first – his hair somehow more disheveled than its usual state of barely-tamed chaos – then his chest, his tie undone and his collar terribly mangled, as if he’d spent all day indulging the worst of his nervous habits. He was baring his teeth, his pale cheeks flushed with anger and his eyes narrowed into a pointed glare. It wasn’t quite the reaction you’d hoped for (in your wildest dreams, he would’ve managed to sink his beloved fortress before he ever reached you), but it was close enough.

You moved to stand, to greet him with the warm embrace he usually demanded, but he was already in front of you, already pinning you to the back of the lounge you’d been splayed across with a single fist planted less than a hair’s width above your shoulder. “You,” he growled, leaning in close enough for his breath to fan over your skin. “Do you know how many journalistsI had to deal with today? They were everywhere. I couldn’t go a step without tripping over some— over some glorified tabloid.”

“So, your meeting with Monsieur Neuvillette went well?” His scowl deepened, and you let out your most faux innocent laugh – a chiming, bubbling thing he’d never been able to stand. “You shouldn’t scowl like that, love. All those photographers will have to find a new model if you manage to give yourself frown lines.”

He jolted, but forced himself to shut his eyes, to let out a long, ragged breath. When he did face you again, he’d regained a degree of his composure – just enough to meet your smile with his own tight-lipped grin, more teeth than anything. “I’ll let you off easy if you tell me how you did it now. Before I decide it’d be faster to strangle an explanation out of you.”

“I didn’t break any rules, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You paused, folded your hands over your lap. “It was all thanks to our great and benevolent duke. Contacting people outside of the fortress has gotten so much more efficient ever since you decided prisoners should be able to send letters without administrative vetting.”

He buckled visibly, his shoulders falling as he lean towards you, his face soon buried in the dip of your shoulder. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” There was a raspy chuckle, a hand on your thigh, squeezing just hard enough for his anger to shine through the playfulness of the gesture. “I think I’ve earned the rest of the day off, and I think you’ve earned—”

The door to his office swung open before he could finish, a masculine voice calling up from the voice below only a moment later. “Your grace, t-there’s a reporter here to see you! She says she’s been told not to leave until she speaks to your partner!”

“That’ll be Charlotte,” you half-sung. “She seemed like such a nice girl in her letters. It’d be a shame to keep her waiting.”

When he failed to answer, you brought up both hands and cupped his face, cooing as you used your thumbs to quirk the corners of his mouth upward.

“Just remember to smile for the camera this time, alright?”

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