Tumgik
#i wish i could set it and paint it😭
adriancatrin ¡ 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
zuko with turtleducks, made with monster clay!
video for a more 3d look below!
2K notes ¡ View notes
vetteltea ¡ 2 months
Text
Paint the Town Red | MV1
summary: when the biggest rumour of the season turns out to be true, how will it effect the bond between you and your best friend?
note: hello! I am alive, I promise. The past few weeks have been wild and I'm slowly returning to be with you all! This is also my first ever SMAU, so PLEASE be gentle with me!
Tumblr media
F1 ✔
Tumblr media
Liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, sebastianvettel, and 704,201 others
F1: BREAKING: Y/N Y/L/N to join Scuderia Ferrari in 2024!
The race-winner from Alphatauri will end her current contract with the Red Bull family after a record-breaking two seasons together. Y/L/N is the first driver to win four consecutive sprint races as well as setting phenomenal wins in Monza and Silverstone
view all comments
landoleclerc: FINALLY! she's getting some good recognition and deserves this seat so SO MUCH!!!!!! 😭
scuderiaferrari: welcome home, Y/N ❤️🏎️
pitstopboxbox: I can't believe the rumours were true lmao, who agreed to this?
y/ntauri: @pitstopboxbox she's so much better than half the grid, she deserves this more than anyone else 🤷🏻‍♀️
Tumblr media
alphataurif1 ✔
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by yourusername, yukitsunoda0511, redbullracing and 404,359 others
alphatauri: After two seasons together, Scuderia Alphatauri and Y/N Y/L/N will be parting ways at the end of the 2023 season.
Y/N has always been a valuable and loved member of our team; as the first woman in Formula One racing to score points on the grid, we are more than proud of all we have achieved together. She will always be a loved and appreciated member of the Red Bull Family. We wish her every luck in her future at Scudeira Ferrari.
view all comments
redbullracing: thank you for everything, Y/N! 💙❤️
lechairalonso: you all never deserved her, we know what was said about her! Y/N TO FERRARI!!!!!!!!
scuderiaferrari: we'll take good care of our girl! ❤️
Tumblr media
yourusername ✔
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by danielricciardo, gerihalliwell, carlossainz55 and 695,481 others.
yourusername: After an incredible two years and discussions with Franz Tost, Christian Horner and Adrian Newey, I have come to the decision to leave Scuderia Alphatauri at the end of the 2023 season.
Racing has and will always be an incredibly huge part of my life; I will forever be grateful for the opportunity given to me by Alphatauri and the passion and energy I have been able to put into one of the most important things in my life. Franz has been a leader and a legend, Yuki my best friend and the entire team here and back home are phenomenal.
Whilst I am sad to leave behind a legacy created, I am proud to take my next steps into the future as a Scuderia Ferrari driver. This has been a dream of mine ever since I was a child and I cannot wait to fufill the wish that my younger self desired for so long. I want to thank everyone for your love and support along the way and I hope to make you all proud.
view all comments
ynarmy: onward and upwards! we can't wait to see your NEXT adventure! 🏎❤️
yukitsunoda0511: I'll miss you forever, keeping your seat warm always! 🤍
redbullsupermax: ain't no way Y/N is winning anything now, this was her best bet as a woman lmao.
sainztsunoda: @redbullsupermax PLSSSS and ur PFP is literally a cheater lMAO 😂😭
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
f1gossip
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by landonorris, ynverstappenarmy, scuderiapapaya and 24,503 others.
f1gossip: Has the Y/L/N transfer to Ferrari caused issues already? Eagle-Eyed fans among the sport spotted that Three-Time World Champion, Max Verstappen, has UNFOLLOWED Y/N. 
The two have been known for having an incredibly strong relationship on the grid and Verstappen has mentioned to the press multiple times that he believes Y/N would be a suitable driver for Red Bull. The two have known one another since their racing in Formula 3. Has this move to Ferrari caused strain on this friendship?
view all comments 
oconredflags: there's no way that something like this could split them up? they've been friends for SO long? 😭❤️
ferrarilover1655: nah I'm sorry, max is salty that she's moving onto better things. she has every right to be happy and he should be supporting her
vettellovers: @ferrarilover1655: she's literally moving to FERRARI. WORST MOVE EVER. 😂😂😭
astonalonso: LANDO IN THE LIKES BRUUUUUUH. 👀👀
Tumblr media
scuderiaferrari ✔
Tumblr media
Liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, sebastianvettel and 849,204 others.
scuderiaferrari: The future is red. Say hello to the SF-24, designed and built in Maranello.
view all comments
raybans: we're painting the town red in 2024!
yourusername: 🏎️❤️
vettelschumacher: Y/N is going to be the greatest thing that's happened to this team in SO long
liked by charles_leclerc
Tumblr media
sffanpage
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by papayasainz, beforrealistic, maranellomadness and 56,301 others.
sffanpage: Charles Leclerc and Y/N Y/L/N at Maranello for the SF-24 Launch today! Y/N visited the museum before the official launch and the two were seen leaving the event at the same time after stopping to speak to fans!
view all comments
papayasainz: they look like they'll make SUCH a good team? They had so much banter during the launch I LOVE LOVE THE VIBE ❤️😭❤️😭
louisaferrari44: @papayasainz RIGHT? when Charles was welcoming her too and they were giggling when Fred came on, ICONIC 😅
ferrariofficialfanpages: we've need something fresh for so long and I'm so excited that this is happening 🤍❤️🏎
supermaxredbull: I give it 2 races and she'll be done lmao
Tumblr media
yourusername ✔
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, f1 and 703,402 others.
yourusername: The SF-24 is here and I am so excited! Such a beautiful car built by an incredible team. I hope I can do you all proud this year!
Thank you to everybody who came out to support the team; I feel so welcome and loved and I cannot wait to begin this season on a high! Forza Ferrari! ❤️🏎
view all comments
f1: we can't wait to see you on track in red!
ferrarifans16: SHE'S HERE! OH MY GOD SHE LOOKS SO GOOD AND I'M NOT READY!!!!!
charles_leclerc: welcome to the family! ❤️
liked by yourusername
maranellomadness: Y/N IS ABOUT TO REVIVE US ARE WE ALL READY?????
Tumblr media
charles_leclerc ✔
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername, landonorris and 894,402 others
charles_leclerc: SF-24 Launch was incredibleeeee 🤩
Thank you to all the fans and the love in Maranello today, I can't wait to get behind the wheel and bring us some memories and points. ❤️
view all comments
yourusername: forza charles! ❤️
liked by charles_leclerc
sffanpage: good luck this season Charles! we can't wait to see you bring home all the points!!
vettelalonso: CHARLES IN RED WILL ALWAYS BE MY ROMAN EMPIRE 😍😍😍
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1K notes ¡ View notes
cranberryjuice-posts ¡ 21 days
Note
Clarisse x femreader where reader broke up with Clarisse cause she thought Clarisse could do better than her and eventually Clarisse corners her and demands answers to why reader broke up with her. Begging on Clarisse’s part to get back together.
If you don’t want to do this you don’t have too!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
- a helping hand -
Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Loner! Reader
An - sorry this took so long to get out I’m also working on my AO3 series and writing the chapters takes a lil while 😭😭
Tumblr media
You aimlessly walked around the camp. With it being officially one month after your breakup with clarisse— or rather you dumping the girl.
The moon provided enough light for you, that and the large bonfire that took place in the background. The singing and joking was all fun and games but you really just preferred to be alone.
A few steps into the woods you let out a deep breath. Saying a silent thankyou to nyx the goddess of the night for bringing you some peace in this shitty situation.
You loved clarisse, more than she would ever know. While she preferred to train in the arena beating her siblings to a pulp you liked to paint in the art pavilion. Your dates were always something elaborate but private enough that you both could spend time just alone.
Your insecurities got the best of you however. Ofcourse you saw how other girls looked at her I mean just look at her. Clarisse was a tall well fit masculine girl, she was every lesbian or sapphics dream.
She deserved better. While you preferred to be alone she was always the center of attention.. She deserved someone confident, who could keep up with her ever changing schedule and someone who could share the spotlight.
Your final straw was seeing her flirt with Ramona, a daughter of Apollo who looked a little to much like Rapunzel. Of course she’d go after a girl like that— the complete opposite of you.
Taking a spot by the creek you took your shoes off letting your feet relax in the cold water. The silence got you out of your head helped you finally relax. Looking up quickly you saw a deer standing before you, poised and unafraid.
You stood up walking into the ankle deep water making your way over to the buck. Feeling a strange sense pulling you to it.
It nuzzled into your body, it’s horns tangling into you. You chuckled softly rubbing its straw like hair. The moment was short lived— a stick broke causing the buck to become skittish and run off.
“There you are Jesus” a voice you wish you could forget spoke behind you. Turning around you saw clarisse standing with her arms crossed. “I saw you ran off and I just wanted to make sure you were ok”
“I’m fine” you bluntly spoke making your way back to your shoes.
She just rolled her eyes. “Uh huh and I take it you becoming emotionally attached to a wild animal is also you being fine” she teased. Once you got up you tried to leave only to be stopped by the woman with her grabbing your wrist.
“Common Dont leave” she sighed. “Look I’m sorry.. I just want to Talk, can we do that please you at-least owe me that”
Clarisse was right, like normal. Giving a dramatic sigh you agreed. “Fine” you shrugged your shoulders.
———
At first you expected the conversation to be awkward, though your expectations changed when it went the complete opposite direction.
Here you were snorting as clarisse told you about some story with her and her brothers. “It’s not That Funny you jerk” she laughed gently shoving you.
You just continued to laugh bumping into her. “It’s hilarious” You retaliated.
“Uh huh sure” she chuckled grabbing your arms with a smile. Before you could stop yourself you leaned up kissing her. The kiss was short, the realization set in immediately causing you to pull back quickly.
“I’m sorry” you rushed. “I shouldn’t I—“
Before you could finish clarisse wrapped an arm around your waist, the other cupping your face as she quickly pulled you into another kiss. Instead of rejecting it this time you placed your arms around her neck. Accept it rather than blocking it.
You both tilted your heads allowing one another to have better reach in the kiss. After dating for almost a year you both learned one another’s strengths and weaknesses in kissing.
Letting out a soft moan you pulled away, keeping her close though. “Why..” she panted. “Why did you end it” her question was blunt and straight to the point.
You debated on answering her question, not sure if she’d like the real answer. “Because you deserve someone better” you whispered against her lips. Clarisse broke the small space causing you both to have breathing room. “What?!” Her tone was more upset if anything.
“Look It’s not That It’s Just”
“Just What?! I deserve someone better the hell does that mean” she slapped her arms to her thighs.
“It means that I’m not the best for you clarisse!” You finally yelled. “I stay to myself I like to be alone, people think I’m weird and I see how they laugh at me! Clarisse you deserve someone who isn’t a fucking shut in”
“And who decided I wanted someone else?!” She yelled back causing you to stay quiet. What did she mean by that. “You dumb ignorant fool” Clarisse sighed rubbing her eyes. Letting her hands drop down she grabbed your body once more. “I don’t want anyone else, you’re the only person for me— the only person I want. You understand” her tone much calmer. “Please don’t ever think I didn’t want you— babe I came after you because i still love you”
You felt your eyes water at her words. You just nodded breaking down in her arms. “Besides Ramona is way to fucking loud” you just laughed through the tears making her smile.
———
Walking back to camp holding hands you noticed in the corner of you eye the buck from before. Standing as calm as ever.
Your eyes seemed to play tricks on you as the deer shifted from a buck to a tall woman with dark flowing hair to back to an animal.
Silently you said yet another Thank-you to Nyx. She might not of been a major goddess but she did her part.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
451 notes ¡ View notes
yoonbroom ¡ 7 months
Text
BTS FIC RECS
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a list of BTS fics I really enjoyed! pls go and show these amazing authors some love <3 if there wasn't a summary I just included a little blurb from the fics! and anything with * are my own thoughts. now onto the recs ↓
Tumblr media
KIM SEOKJIN
TURN BACK TIME - @raplinesmoon
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut
After total humiliation at his middle school baseball try outs, Kim Seokjin wants nothing more than for his awkward years to fade away until he’s thirty. Cue a magic baseball glove, and his wish is finally granted. Seokjin suddenly wakes up seventeen years later, now the star pitcher of the team he’d always dreamed of playing for. Confused and overwhelmed at the prospect of the new life waiting for him, he turns to the only person who seems to understand him — you. Will Seokjin learn what it truly means to be thirty, flirty, and thriving? Or will he find himself wishing he could turn back time?
WITH YOU - @yoonpobs
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, ceo, marriage, divorce, parent
marrying your childhood best friend was not the love story that most painted it to be. you knew that better than anyone else.
UNTITLED - @eoieopda
drabble, fluff, est relationship, parent
"I loved the dad joon and dad yoongs drabble 🥹 it's freaking cuteeee omg jade 😭😭 *whisper* can you do dad-to-be or dad seokjin too please...? I'm on a seokjin missing hour 🥹 thank you ❤️❤️"
LONG TERM COUPLE - @taetaespeaches
series, fluff, angst, idol au, strangers to lovers
long term couple masterlist *the whole long term couple series is honestly one of my faves😭*
Tumblr media
MIN YOONGI
LONG TERM COUPLE - @/taetaespeaches
series, fluff, angst, smut, idol au, strangers to lovers
long term couple masterlist
NO MORE - @gyukult
series (two-shot), angst, smut, fluff, unrequited love, college, secret relationship
yoongi doesn’t like your consistent pining, and one day, after finally coming to terms that he will never reciprocate any feelings back, you give up. yet, for some reason, yoongi is the one who can’t come to terms with the consequences of when he says ‘no more.’
VOWS AKA 10 WAYS TO WIN YOUR HUSBAND'S HEART - @hamsterclaw
series, fluff, angst, smut, arranged marriage, est relationship
You’ve been in your arranged marriage with Yoongi for five years, and he’s never once retaliated for anything you’ve done to him. One day you realise you’ve lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.
CARE FOR YOU - @archivedkookie
oneshot, fluff, est relationship, marriage, doctor au
Yoongi will always care for you, no matter what.
BABY, YOU CAN DRIVE MY CAR PT.2- @jungshookz
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, mechanic au
welcome to min mechanics - what can i do for you today, doll?
THE TROPHY WIFE - @taeyohonic
oneshot, fluff, angst, est relationship, idol au
the proposal doesn’t go as planned
BACK-BURNER - @/yoonpobs
series, angst, fluff, smut, sisters best friend, friends to lovers
sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete?
VEGAS BABY - @chimivx
series, fluff, angst, smut, idol au, parent au
A peek into the life of an Idol and his soulmate tackling the obstacles that come with having a surprise in the whirlwind of a world they live in. { This link takes you to the full collection of works. }
Tumblr media
JUNG HOSEOK
LONG TERM COUPLE - @/taetaespeaches
series, fluff, angst, smut, strangers to lovers, idol au
long term couple masterlist
ONE NIGHT LIGHT - @bts-reveries
series, fluff, angst, smau, parent
Hoseok has been living his very own version of a perfect life. Unlike some of his best friends, this doesn’t include a happy marriage, adorable kids, or even a stable relationship. All he would ever need was music, dancing, and of course, the parties. Now what happens when he gets a wake up call from reality when the door rings approximately six years after his last one night stand?
AT THE CONCERT - @katnisspeetaprim
oneshot, fluff, est relationship, idol au
Hoseok was quite insistent that you come to this show in particular...
Tumblr media
KIM NAMJOON
LONG TERM COUPLE - @/taetaespeaches
series, fluff, angst, smut, strangers to lovers, idol au
long term couple masterlist
UNTITLED - @/eoieopda
drabble, fluff, est relationship, parent au
dad!joon
ALONE ON YOUR BIRTHDAY - @monimonimoon
drabble, angst, est relationship
Namjoon promised he would be there on your birthday, he wouldn't be working, he certainly wouldn't work late. Sometimes, increasingly frequently, he broke his promises.
ME AND YOUR MAMA - @joonberriess
oneshot, smut, fluff, est relationship
you like to remember both what life before the little one was and after with your loving boyfriend namjoon.
Tumblr media
PARK JIMIN
ROCK BOTTOM - @jkbabiey
oneshot, angst, fluff, smut, marriage, idol au
When, in a four-year marriage, you get to the point where you question its worth, you know that’s your rock bottom. How many I’m sorry’s will you handle? How many times are too many times?
MASK ON - @herherteartear
series, fluff, angst, smau, single dad au
blind dates are never the move.. unless your best friend is vouching for the person you're going on a date with. it couldn't be that bad, right? wrong. now you're in love with a man who has a big secret. a big secret with chubby cheeks and pig tails.
LONG TERM COUPLE - @/taetaespeaches
series, fluff, angst, smut, friends to lovers, idol au
long term couple masterlist
Tumblr media
KIM TAEHYUNG
MINI ME - @bts-reveries
series, fluff, angst, smau, strangers to lovers, parent au, artist au
Unlike his best friends, Taehyung was young, wild, and free. No relationship, no babies, no responsibilities. Well he had his puppy, but that was it. Taehyung watched his nieces and nephews grow up and it was no secret that he too wanted to have one of his own someday. So what will happen when he finally finds someone that matches his personality (and himself) well?
WELCOME TO MY YOUTUBE CHANNEL - @tteokggukk
oneshot, fluff, idol au, strangers to lovers
"He’s been watching your videos for quite some time now, ever since your channel started rising. Art was one of his major interests and he absolutely adored the way you made your videos with the calming, ASMR-like sound of mixing paint and how you skillfully glided the brush across the canvas. On days when he found himself tired and in need of a quick way to relax, he’d subconsciously find himself binge watching videos on your channel— even repeating several videos since you were only starting. He found it fascinating, but also because he found you interesting."
ONE OF THE BOYS - @littlemisskookie
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, childhood friends, best friends to lovers, high school
All your life you wanted only one thing- for Kim Taehyung to like you. You did everything you could to make this happen, from picking up his hobbies and rejecting anything feminine. But who do you start to become when you stop trying to impress him?
LONG TERM COUPLE - @/taetaespeaches
series, fluff, angst, smut, (best)friends to lovers, idol au
long term couple masterlist
"I WISH ID NEVER MET YOU" " I HATE YOU" - @v-hope
oneshot, angst, idol au
"pls do 12 and 27 with tae (angst)"
Tumblr media
JEON JUNGKOOK
UNTITLED - @onlyswan
oneshot, fluff, angst, est relationship, idol au
in which you make jungkook’s world spin and you tend to… make him a little too dizzy.
ME AND MY HUSBAND - @gashinabts
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, est relationship, parent au
You don’t want to brag but you have the world’s greatest husband. Jungkook packs your lunch everyday, and makes cute shapes with the fruit. There’s even a little note, ‘ Have a good day at work, Baby! <3’. Smiling to yourself you place the note down, and eat your food with content.
17 GOING ON 27 - @hansolmates
oneshot, fluff, angst, photographer au
one second, you’re sobbing at prom because the most popular guy in school dumps you due to your relationship being a little prank to break your heart. the next? you’re a creative editor at Ego, the hottest young adult fashion magazine. as you try to figure out what’s the deal with this sudden time skip into adulthood, you come across relationships and friendships that are made to be cherished and made to be broken.
HOME - @bonny-kookoo
oneshot, fluff, smut, idol au
Singing about love without having experienced it properly before, Jungkook felt a little foolish- as if he didn’t quite have the rights to the words he’d put out there for others to listen to. But Jungkook also loved to learn new things; and loving you was one of them.
LONG TERM COUPLE - @/taetaespeaches
series, fluff, angst, smut, strangers to lovers, idol au
long term couple masterlist
Tumblr media
want recs for other groups? check out my navigation → here!
1K notes ¡ View notes
random-twst-things ¡ 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
The Sweet Painter of Twisted things (Pt. 1)
Tumblr media
Hi annon! Love the concept. It's no bother at all, I do love to write after all!! Ty for the request and I apologize for taking so long 😭✨🍬 (I hope you like it!)
Characters involved: Riddle, Leona, Azul pt.1 (Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus pt.2)
Pairings: Riddle, Leona, Azul pt 1 (Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Female reader pt.2) (Separate)
Warnings: Mentions of eerie/gory paintings
Word count: 1,630
Notes: you know what? I'm just gonna post it now and finish the rest in a different post, I don't want y'all to be kept waiting any longer 😭✨🍬
More notes: I'll be posting Pt.2 whenever I have time! I will say though, I have no idea how to write for some of the characters in Pt.2 😀✨🍬
Tumblr media
When you said you painted and wished to show him your art, Riddle had to admit he was a tad bit (a lot) excited to see
So, when you showed him your art he was absolutely bewildered.
You, the sweetest person he has ever had the chance in meeting, paints things that could cause nightmares.
Obviously, he isn't going to say that aloud, he has manners, but dear seven, how unexpected it was for him.
He's seen art before. He's been to museums by his mother to teach him strictly of the arts and the "rules" she put in place for them to determine how well a painting is.
It's been years since his mother taught him such things, and she only did it so often, and after time, those rules of art set by his mother have dwindled.
He's been able to go to museums before with Trey as a way to calm down when things are too much. Luckily, Trey was able to explain to Riddle how there are many forms of art and how it art doesn't necessarily have rules itself.
So it's safe to say he's a bit more well-versed in paintings now, even though he still finds it a bit difficult when there's no rules to follow (a habit hard to get rid of)
Now, his reaction all depends on what painting and image your showing him
He will ask you questions about why you would paint such uncanny things such as:
Why did you paint this? What caused you to begin painting such eerie things? What Inspiration were you given to paint this particular piece?
And many more questions about technique and practical things.
He can't say that he's a fan of these types of paintings, but he can say that he thinks you're very talented to be able to make such paintings
He'll praise how well done or real your painting(s) looks.
He's going to be a bit concerned about you, though, and he shows that by (trying to) subtly asking if you're okay
"What gave you the inspiration to draw this?" Riddle asks, the worry in his tone being quite evident even through his attempts in hiding it. "Have you witnessed such things for inspiration?" He asks again, his voice laced with even more worry than before.
"What? No!" You stand up from your seat to get closer to Riddle. "It's not like that," you laugh lightly, shaking your hands in the air. "I just happened to see a rotting piece of meat in the cafeteria kitchen one time while passing by."
Riddle breathes a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding in. Bro was stressing and worrying.
Tumblr media
I say this in the nicest way possible to us all, but this man does not care but-!
Leona doesn't care in a sense like "I wanna show you something!" "Alright hurry it up and show me".
Maybe he's a bit smug that you're showing him something you like to do.
Anyways, when you said you wanted to show him your painting(s) he was being smug.
He didn't have any set expectations to what type of things you painted or what your style was.
Him seeing the eerie or gory painting didn't surprise him as much as Riddle either.
He doesn't have much to say, but this guy is still smug and is definitely showing it now.
Why? The guys got weird motives and definitions of respect and pride so we'll never know.
His does wonder how you acquired such Inspiration to paint like this.
He's not too curious about it to the point where he'll try to find out or becomes worried.
Again, he is smug and prideful but it's for you
He feels prideful FOR you. He's smug about you being able to paint such gory or eerie things FOR you.
(Bros so smitten with you)
You set your canvas/notebook down carefully against one of the plants nearby, careful not to get it dirty or damaged.
Leona lays there, back towards you, unbothered under the shade of a plant, but not for long as you bring your finger near his cheek and begin to poke.
Poke.
Poke.
PokePokePokePokePokePokePoke.
Leona swats your hand away, but not harshly. His tail swings left to right faster then he was asleep, another sign he's awake.
He looks at you, irked that you disturbed his so-called much needed nap. He glares at you, but his eyes lack the malice in them to even consider it threatening. You look at him innocently, hands behind your back as to show it wasn't you. (He knows better, only you would ever try to wake him up like that)
He sighs deeply. "What is it herbivore?" He asks as he shifts slightly to get into a more comfortable position to get a better view of you. You turn your body slightly to grab the canvas you set down behind you, careful not to accidentally show Leona just yet. "I wanna show you something," you beam, you're more excited then you thought you'd be showing him, for the first time, your most recent painting.
Leona's tail begins to swish even faster, thumping against the leaves of the plants nearby. His tail gives away that his curiosity has been piqued. Yet his face remains unchanged, besides the slight quirk of his eyebrow in questioning.
You turn the canvas around for Leona to see.
And there it is
The smirk
The smug
The eyes of pride *sound effects*
His smirk seems to widen even more as he looks at the painting and then back at you. "Looks nice herbivore, ya got anymore?"
You excitedly nod your head, "yeah, I do. Wanna see them?", you ask, gripping your painting, even more excited then before to show him.
Leona nods his head languidly while slowly closing his eyes, "sure, but after I finish this nap", he brings his arms down and begins to get comfortable. He softly pats his stomach, "Come, sleep".
Tumblr media
Azul knows you paint, he knows it's been a hobby of yours for a while now.
How does he know? Doesn't matter. Does he know what exactly the contents of your paintings are? No
His curiosity has been eating away at him. He was so very curious on what his darling was capable of
So, when you first told him that you wished to show him your paintings, he was elated. His curiosity will finally be quelled.
He may or may not have a set expectations of what you paint. Something sweet, something calm or maybe something like he'd find at a museum of old paintings.
What he saw was the complete opposite to say the least.
He's not disappointed, no, he's just shocked.
He's amazed. He's taken aback. He's a lot of emotions.
.....would you be willing to, perhaps, sell these paintings? Many people out there would be willing to buy, and the profits would be even and-
Old habits die hard, I suppose 🤷🏽‍♀️
You led Azul by the hand to your room/drawing room, much slower than he would like as he wished to see your paintings as soon as possible.
"Azul, i can feel you twitching in anticipation just by holding your hand," you laughed lightly. He sighed, bringing his free hand to his temple to calm his nerves. "I'm sorry, dear, but it feels as if you're walking slower just to build up anticipation," "Maaaybeee~". Azul chuckles at your antics.
Finally, after Azuls definition of agonizing seconds. He visibly relaxed as he saw the covered canvas. "My, you really know how to keep me on my toes", ",I most certainly do". You left go of his hand and stand next to the covered canvas. "Ready?", you put your hands on the sheet. Azul held his breath and nodded.
You clench the cover and quickly pull it off. You turn to face Azul to gouge his reaction. That reaction was him frozen in place, still holding his breath (you'd begun to think how he still hasn't passed out) "Azul?" You try to call out to him.
He slowly walks up to your painting, still holding his breath. He reaches out and touches the edges of the canvas delicately, scared he we're to break it if he put too much pressure. You watch his careful movements. You watch as his eyes rake over your painting as if he could take the painting and store it into his memory box. "Azul?" You try calling out again, only this time he responds.
He let's out a shaky breath, "it looks -" he turns his head to fade you. "It looks magnificent, dear," his words were barely above a whisper. You stand there absolutely frozen and shocked. Nobody has ever quite thought this kind of painting would be 'magnificent' before.
"Really?" He turns his head back at the painting."Yes, the detail is vert intricate, and it feels so eerie. It's as if you were truly there." You stare at him bewildered, mouth slightly agape.
He puts his hand on his chin in a thinking position. The gears turn in his head. He turns to face you so quickly that you'd think he'd have snapped his neck on accident. "Have you ever considered selling these?" He asks, with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Sell them?... No, I never really thought of that." You bring your fingers to your chin, now thinking as well. "Well, I'll say many would be lining up the door to buy these wonderful paintings!""Really?"
"Yes! With such talent and my business skills, we could -" and there goes the business man into his spiral of possibilities.
Tumblr media
374 notes ¡ View notes
asuyaka ¡ 5 months
Note
Ok hear me out, Reader is besties with Gojo and Geto and was paired with them to deliver the Star Plasma Vessel(Riko) and Readers notices how the girl's passing seemed to take a toll on Geto the most, so after seeing his decreasing health, both physical and mental, they decided to reach out to him and pull him out of his dark thoughts. Yes I am in denial about the recent chapters, this is how I cope. This man deserves all the hugs in the world😭😭
★ - 'm totally agree! all Satoru had ta do was speak with Suguru 'n JJK probably wouldn't have happened !! <(_ _)>
☆ - Teen! Geto Suguru x Male Reader — Can be read as platonic or romantic !!
♡ - Hurt/comfort, suicidal thoughts, and Suguru bein' mildly racist towards non-sorcerers (;′⌒`)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The merging of the Star Plasma Vessel— Riko Amanai— and Tengen went to shit the second Fushiguro Toji came into the picture.
You tried, you tried saving her even though you were scared. No one could touch Satoru, but Toji could. Toji killed him and Riko like it was nothing.
You and Suguru weren't enough, he was too strong. When he killed Rainbow Dragon, Suguru's strongest curse, the reality set in that you two most likely weren't going to make it out alive.
You did, thankfully, but at what cost?
Your quaint little friend group broke up. Shoko was busy learning medical Jujutsu most of the time, Satoru had officially become the strongest and started taking solo missions which left you and Suguru.
But after that day, you noticed something was wrong. Very, very wrong. Suguru had lost weight, his hair which he prided himself in taking care of had split ends and was mildly greasy and he had eye bags.
This also added to the fact that he was coming late to class almost every day sent alarm bells in your head, so you decided to check up on him.
In your home clothes since you didn't have any impending missions and classes were over, you knocked on Suguru's door. He's stopped coming to class the past few days which scared the shit out of you since Suguru doesn't miss class unless it's something serious.
You waited, hoping to hear an answer. When you didn't, you checked the doorknob. It was open so you walked in, announcing yourself just in case Suguru was busy with something.
His room was a mess. The trash can was overflowing, clothes were piled up in a corner and dishes were stacked on the sink.
Suguru was curled up in his bed—which was also a mess, sheets that needed to be washed and his bed was in desperate need of a making— his blanket pulled up to his neck and his body facing away from the doorway.
"Suguru?" You whispered, checking his breathing just in case. It was there and stable, which meant he was just sleeping. You gently tapped on him, noticing the soft tear lines on his cheek.
He had cried himself to sleep.
Suguru stirred as his eyes opened slowly, blinking away the tiredness when he saw your concerned face. "[Name]..? What are you doing here?"
"I came to check on you. You haven't been in class, so I got worried. Are you okay?"
Suguru sat up and rubbed his eyes. He didn't realize he'd been gone for that long, it felt better to stay asleep than wake up. Some days he wished he stayed asleep forever.
"Sorry, I lost track of time." He came up with a lie off the top of his head, hoping you wouldn't question anything and leave him alone.
He knows you though. Knows how empathetic you are, knows how caring you are to the people you love, so it was no surprise when you sat on his bed making yourself comfortable. "Are you okay, Suguru?"
"I told you, I just lost track of time—"
"Suguru..." Your voice was soft as you took his hands into yours. Usually, his were well-manicured and painted black, but now they were long. Suguru hated it when his nails were long, they always got in the way when he was fighting curses. "You don't have to lie to me, you don't have to say anything you don't want to. Please, just tell me if you need help and I'll help you. I won't ask for anything more."
Suguru tensed up. Does he need help? He hasn't felt like himself ever since... everything happened a few months ago. The world felt so grey and he couldn't think of a reason to keep waking up and getting out of bed.
So what if those monkeys needed saving? Sorcerers shouldn't have to put their lives on the line to save people who were barely worth saving.
He feels sluggish. He reeks, his hair feels so greasy and his eyes are heavy. He just wants to lie down and hopefully take his last breath. He can't keep doing this— be a sorcerer that is.
He hates morals, he hates that 'the strong should protect the weak' bullshit, he hates that he wasn't strong enough to protect someone who needed saving, someone who deserved it.
He's so tired. Tired of the Jujutsu world, tired of the fake lies of non-sorcerers, tired of everything.
"...please." He mutters out, his hands slightly squeezing yours and his head hanging in shame.
You nod as you help him up. You don't need to tell him anything right now. If he needs you, if he needs your help, that's all that matters.
You start a bath and help him get undressed, closing your eyes for the sake of his privacy when you got to his boxers.
The water was warm against your legs, and you thanked yourself that you wore shorts instead of sweats. You washed him, taking extra care of his hair to show him you remembered how much he loved it. Show him how much you care about him.
You leave him momentarily to grab clean clothes, settling on an old Mario shirt, black shorts, and a pair of fuzzy white and black socks.
"Do you want to stay here while I clean?" You asked as you tied his hair into a loose ponytail, the smell of his cinnamon shampoo in the air.
Suguru shook his head. He wanted—no— needed to stay close to you. To hold you, to feel someone else's warmth against his. You didn't ask any questions, letting him hold onto your waist as you went to make his bed.
He stayed like that, pressed against you as you sorted his clothes, cleaned his kitchen, swept his floor, helped him take care of his nails, and him made him food.
Suguru doesn't feel like he deserves this. He doesn't deserve you. You're being so patient with him, you aren't judging him for being messy or unclean, you weren't judging the fact that his fridge was almost empty, you were just there.
There for him, to make him feel better.
Suguru feels like he's going to cry.
He's pressed against your chest, hands wrapped around your waist as he listens to you read aloud a book you had brought with you, hands in his hair, scratching his scalp gently.
"...thank you." He mumbles, wiping the wet away from his eyes. He feels so loved, like someone would care if he flat out died.
You smile softly, pressing a kiss against his head. "I'm always going to be here for you Suguru. No matter what."
And for the first time in months, he believes that it's worth it to live. That if he gets to feel you like this, he might stay in the Jujutsu world. All for you— everything for you.
Tumblr media
436 notes ¡ View notes
hwajin ¡ 11 months
Text
#! — [ talk ] yang jeongin
— fem!reader // nsfw // oral (f receiving), this is honestly so rushed and barely proofread i'm sorry 😭 req!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Jeongin had never seen you like this. Face flushed in utter darkness, colour continuing down to paint at your neck, your hands aching to hide yourself behind them – only because he had been curious of your wishes.
Admittedly, the both of you were new to being intimate with the other. It had clicked well the first time, surely, yet there were things unspoken and hidden behind secret thoughts and shy fantasies. Thoughts and fantasies you were eager to explore when the time was right, though that didn’t make the matter all the less nerve-wrecking – it was embarrassing admitting to ones likings and most sinful dreams, even with a close loved one, with a person as trustable as Jeongin.
He had been littering you in kisses, trails of wet on cheeks, shoulders and nape, on the expanse of your chest, the curves and dips of waist to hip. And if he was told it took one sentence merely to seemingly ruin you, to take any form of boldness out your body he would have not believed it. He would have laughed as the disbelief had set in his body, watching you with aghast eyes as you grew a stuttering mess.
���Tell me what you want, baby.”
One sentence only, barely spoken loud enough to register, hushed against the flesh of your stomach. By that time there hadn’t been an inch unkissed, Jeongin’s lips reddened, your body littered in flower shaped bites. You had tensed up, looked down at the man between your thighs in utter loss for words – wanting to tell him that you wanted everything, any and all if it was from him, yet not finding the words to. Wanting to tell him that if it came to him there was nothing you didn’t want, that your wishes could run beyond sane imagination – though you said nothing at all. Merely looked and blinked until he had found your eyes, questioning look within them, utterly surprised to see you like this.
Ever since Jeongin had met you he’d admired your confidence. Your boldness to speak your truth when needed, to stand up for yourself without a helping hand. You’d been the one who approached him first, turning him into a state of flusterness nine times out of ten, and he’d always loved it. Though if someone was to ask him now – he might answer to like this side just as much. Was so new to seeing you like this, especially when it came to him, that it got him chuckling in his place which only caused you to run redder, darker. To convert his eyes off him, groaning in flooding embarrassment.
“I don't know you like this at all... it's cute.”
Teasing tone lacing his voice, and you whined out in frustration. The spreading timidity wasn’t in your control, and you’d liked it much better off, would like it much better if you could simply speak your mind. If you could blurt out all the anarchic thoughts that coursed your head, or if Jeongin, at least, didn’t take notice of your state. Though it was much to late for that.
“C'mon baby...”, continuing his way down your body, kissing in between his words – your body grew hotter in anticipation or in embarrassment, you weren’t all too sure by now, "...I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”, locking eyes with you from beneath, his darkened on your flickering ones, and you urged to shut them. Urged to convert your gaze anywhere that wasn’t him – because truly, he was at fault. Jeongin’s hands, warm and grasping at your body, his wettened lips on most sensitive spots – it all drove you to a place of wordlessness, of embarrassing shyness and insanity. He was the reason you were unable to express a single word and yet he was the one wanting to hear all of them.
“Tell me.”
Voice so tantalising heat shot right to your core, and you closed your eyes after all – it was easier to utter words that way, surely.
“Eat me out.”
Voice so silent Jeongin nearly overheard it – yet he smiled to himself in mischief, watching your ever darkening grimace of shame, the way your eyes wouldn’t open still. Not too big of a wish if both of you were honest, and if it came to Jeongin he'd be ready and on your knees for you whenever you'd ask him to, doing whatever you asked him to. Yet it was something new for you altogether – that was nothing but a valid reason for your state. Though Jeongin was compassionate with you. It didn’t take him long to settle between your legs, parting them in the process, earning easy access to your wettening core. A sight new for him and it needed Jeongin a pair of seconds to recollect himself, to collect his fallen jaw and widened eyes before he lowered himself core level, slowly. Taking in your scent, feeling your body tensing up. Connecting tongue to slit, experimentally first, surer then when your hips grinded against him softly. And it didn’t require him much explaining – attentive eyes on you entirely, watching your every move as he tongued and sucked at your clit, left butterfly kisses around areas most sensitive, groped at your thighs to keep you down, or closer to him. It didn’t require him much explaining because with every of his antics your voice grew in volume, with ever of his kitten licks your face turned into one of contortion, with every inserting finger he added to drive you closer to release your body tensed and tightened, trembled against the mattress until you saw white, until Jeongin’s tongue and fingers, his touch grew sheer painful to bear, until oversensitivity got a hold of your body and weakened limbs, minds.
Tumblr media
@etherealeeknow @linoskitty @unexceptional-h @rseanne @es-kay-zee @urcracksisx @jeyelleohe @yunkiwii @etheralsung @nyrasneedy @seochhj @spidercomics @chans-starlight @angelwonie @lix-ables @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @sstarryreads @svintsandghosts @bokjaz @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus
923 notes ¡ View notes
dazed-hee ¡ 1 year
Text
Enhypen Hyung Trope Series; S.J.Y
Tumblr media
Jake; Unrequited Love part of Enha Hyung Line Trope Series
paring: best friend!jock Jake x cafe performer! reader
warnings & tags: VERY angsty, fluff!,Jake is...urghhh, mentions of the surgery, one-side pinning (?), cursing, pls lmk if im missing anything! not proof read.
synopsis: Being friends since high school what happens when Y/N can no longer deny her feelings for Jake knowing he’d never feel the same way? Slowly drifting apart Y/N decides the best she can do is let go and move on, but will Jake allow her to do that?
word count: 9.1k (ERMMMM HEY)
📌: WHERE ARE ALL MY JAKE LOVERS AT?? I’m sorry Jake was so irritating to write here 😭 but there’s always two sides people don’t realize in this trope. This was hard for me to write tbh.... I feel a lot of people can relate to unrequited love in some way. This piece had a lot more inner dialogue and flashbacks than it did actual dialogue but I feel like that describes unrequited love so well, a lot of it feels personal and its always nostalgic to think about how much more it could’ve been.
only one more left to go!
I WOULD ALSO LIKE TO SAY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR OVER 600+ NOTES ON JAY’S AND HEE’S TROPES AS WELL! Thank you so much for reading and making me feel like my escape can be yours too. AND thank you so much for over 200 followers woohool!! 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍  HAPPY READINGS!
taglist: @seungiepup @skzenhalove @lilactangerine​ @jwnghyuns​ @seungcheolswife @loves0ft ( OPENED check pinned or use ask!)
Coffee.
If no one had your back you could always count on coffee, always being there for you through both days and nights when you were alone in your thoughts. You didn’t mind though, staying up meant opportunities for sudden inspiration to your next song or finishing assignments on your to-do list. The aroma of bitterness mixed with the sweetness or nuttiness of brews was comforting to you. Maybe it reflected how you felt and where you were in life, bitter with a few essences of sweetness.
You were terrible at making drinks though, your tulip latte art looked like a blob of cream someone accidentally poured on top not to mention the one time you almost broke the expresso machine. Instead, you took the role to be entertainment for your favorite coffee shop on campus rather than putting the shop at risk of burning down. Winter Moon, an indie coffee shop you grew to love the moment you stepped foot inside for your first iced coffee. The warm lighting and woody interior paired with painted walls decorated with flowers, plants, and photo frames felt familiar, like home. Bookshelves lining the walls filled with comics and romance books that you could never stop reading when you were on shift waiting for your set. 
You were the known cafe performer, a sweet treat alongside the tart americano that many people loved and enjoyed. Your sets were on Friday and Saturday nights which happened to be the busiest times of the week, Ms. Choi the cafe owner was convinced it was because of you but you argued it was the specials they offered between those times. Customers filled the cafe waiting for a sneak of what song you had in store for them while enjoying the warm atmosphere and delicious handmade lattes and pastries. On days you weren’t busy after classes you’d come in to help, staying away from the machines of course, but you worked on your latte art skills and they’ve improved a tremendous amount. In all honesty, you were using your job as an excuse to distract yourself from the fact that you were going through things you never wish on anyone, not even your worst enemy.
Nothing grieves as deeply or pathetically than having love for someone knowing it isn’t meant to be. You loved him. You had to remind yourself the moment his lips turned into his beautiful wide smile when he sees you walking up to him, the corner of his lips entrancing you deeper into the abyss you knew had no escape. It wasn’t the same love you felt for him when you were in high school. Being neighbors since Jake moved from Australia, you never bothered to talk to him when you two were preteens, only becoming friends from taking the same bus to school once high school started. The awkward silence engulfed the two of you at the bus stop as you waited in your new uniforms on the first day of school, not knowing what to say since you weren’t particularly strangers. 
“I’m Jake by the way.” he abruptly spoke his voice surprising you, turning towards him you could see how his eyes darted around your face, trying to see if he made a mistake for attempting to befriend you. You’ve heard about him from your classmates, how he is always nice to others especially your teachers, boys your age were never that nice. Maybe that’s why you didn’t mind when he reached his hand out, waiting for you to extend yours out as well. 
Your first mistake was you did. Softly grabbing his hand you shook it firmly admiring the way his eyes widened slightly almost shocked you accepted his greeting.
“I know, I’m Y/N.” you smiled.
Your second mistake was letting it go further than simply being nice neighbors who so happen to go to the same school. Jake sat with you on the bus every day, asking you in the morning how you slept and what you ate for breakfast. When the two of you went home it also consisted of him asking how your day went, what you were planning to do once you got home, and maybe if you wanted to stop by the convenience store to eat ramen together. You didn’t know how but you went from sitting in the furthest seat away from him on the bus to sharing earbuds everyday, willingly sharing playlists and song recommendations.
Your third mistake was agreeing to somehow become a part of his friend group, trust when you believed if there was one thing you didn’t regret it was meeting the boys, it just made things more difficult for you. Spending summers together, going on winter break trips to the mountains for snowboarding and skating you loved it all. You weren’t sure the moment you started seeing Jake differently than as a friend. Maybe it was the time he saved your ass from going out with that one guy in the second year of high school. Unaware he was obviously only asking you out because you were deemed unbelievably pretty and untouchable, it was unfortunate since you thought he was serious. Perhaps it was the time Jake waited all day with you when your mom was in a hospital after her surgery, not letting you stay there alone knowing how scared you were since your dad had to return to work. You weren’t sure, all you could remember was Jake being your best friend as the love you had for each other was simply what best friends were supposed to feel, pure. 
“Y/N can you help me, please? I just need you to tell my mom I’m staying after school for soccer practice, the guys wanted to go and I forgot!” he whined holding your hand close to his chest causing you to blink uncontrollably. You never noticed how affectionate and touchy Jake was until your third year of high school, maybe it was him growing up but the more you looked at him the more handsome he became. His usual touches suddenly caused the wires in your brain to reroute, something that was never a big deal before suddenly turned into something that made you nervous. You always admired him from the distance, notably proud every time he won his games, he always looked forward to your congratulatory messages as well. If he wasn’t already happy because of his win your messages were enough to get him caught smiling weirdly at his phone. Your friends always wondered what was up with the two of you, you were close to them but it wasn’t the same as you were with Jake. 
It was weird, you noticed he changed from his usually playful self as you entered your senior year, his touches began to linger on your skin and you noticed the way you were always searching for him wherever you were. That year was when you came out of your shell, sharing the songs you’ve only shown to your bedroom mirror as you performed your written piece for a school festival talent show. Thanks to you, your class won free school merch! Not that amazing but it started your love of performing and sharing your passions with other people. For the past year the two of you were experiencing an odd change in your relationship dynamic, the tension was there. His persistent grazes and your lingering gazes don’t go unnoticed. At this point you knew your feelings for Jake had grown over time, his small actions fueling your delusions thinking that maybe he felt the same way.
 “Promise you’ll be there with me when I need you.” You whispered as the two of you lay in your twin bed, you found out your mom had gotten sick again and this time it was more severe. Grabbing your hands gently Jake ushered you to lay on his chest, your cheek feeling the blazer of his uniform as he kissed your temples before nodding. Your heart burst at his affection, and you realized then and there that sometimes your heart can’t afford to be just friends, you wanted more. Holding hands, not quiet friends and not really as lovers, you told yourself friends don’t kiss each other on the cheek goodbye, nor do they come to visit you at night claiming to need company from not being able to sleep. But lovers don’t leave you waiting for a text back hours after you absentmindedly responded within minutes. They also don’t embrace you warmly for one minute and then leave to chase after someone else's warmth the next.
“Y/N of course I’ll be there for you, you’re my best friend.” After that you recognized that you and Jake were on two different pages, that people search for the feelings that will destroy them in the end. 
Things only got worst after college, by then Sunghoon had caught on to your little facade, catching you multiple times staring at Jake while he spoke twinkling with longing eyes and a regretful shadow.  
“Yo Jake I heard from Naeun that the date was fun.” Jay snickered pushing his shoulder playfully as the boy laughed his signature chuckle escaping his lips. It was hard, pretending like you weren’t affected by the fact Jake had gone on a date and verbally stated he was planning on going on another. You pushed the hand that was on your knee away ignoring Jake’s questioning gaze before he went back to joking with Jay and Heeseung, his hand now rubbing his knee from the sudden loss of warmth. 
“Y/N you okay?” You heard Sunghoon whisper, you hadn’t even noticed you’d been quiet for a while since the conversation started. Nodding you gave him a small smile before excusing yourself to go home claiming you were finished with your work, you didn’t want to be here to hear any of this.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Jake asked grabbing your stuff from your chair, quickly you snatched your bag from his grasp shaking your head no. 
“No uh, it’s in the opposite direction from the next class you have soon,” you said looking at the clock on the library wall. He nodded leaning in to kiss your cheek goodbye like he always did, however, you moved away as he stood there awkwardly slowly sitting back down causing Sunghoon to stand up instead, his bag on his shoulder as he grabbed onto yours.
“I’m going home too I’ll walk you there.” he sighed noting Jake’s flickering gaze as you didn’t say anything but smiled at Sunghoon waiting for him to push his chair in. 
“Bye Y/N!” Heeseung and Jay waved you off as you waved back, your attention went back to the tall latter who whispered something causing you to laugh. You didn’t know Sunghoon was able to read your every move, the way you tried your best not to be alone with Jake recently or avoiding topics such as before. 
He knew his friend was stupid, but not this stupid.
The number of times Jake had scared off any potential suitors for you even without your knowledge was unbelievable, Sunghoon was skeptical at first. It was obvious how you felt for Jake, he couldn’t help but see the way you responded when Jake would always show you affection physically and verbally, if anything he would have assumed Jake felt the same way about you.
But he’d also notice the slight flicker of hope in your eyes disappearing the moment Jake would go off to other girls in the library or at parties you’d attend together, showing off his flirty smile as you sat focusing your eyes on your assignment you haven’t touched for the past couple of minutes or the drink you were sipping on at a dangerous speed.
He was surprised you haven’t said anything about your little (not really) crush on Jake. He wondered how long you’d been keeping your secret. Sunghoon stopped as the two of you were walking, turning towards you as you stared up at him questioning his sudden change in pace.
“How long has it been since you’ve liked Jake.” You froze eyes widening as you watched Sunghoon observe your expression, a small smirk appearing when he was able to finally confirm his suspicions.
“I-I don’t like Jake.” You muttered stumbling on your words causing the boy to scoff as he repositioned his bag.
“Yeah? Well I-I don’t believe you.” he copied causing you to wack him in the arm as he laughed lightly. Biting your lips you were worried that if Sunghoon was able to see your true feeling towards Jake, who else did? Maybe…?
“Don’t worry we’re friends with a bunch of fucking idiots I only knew because I overheard you and Yeji at the party.” He was lying, but you didn’t need to know that. You groaned recalling the party a couple of weeks ago that started with Jake talking and flirting with some girl and ended with you getting absolutely shit-faced, ranting to Yeji who only supported you as the best friend she was. 
“We’re not friends with idiots Sunghoon…” You mumbled rolling your eyes as you saw him peek behind you his smirk playing his lips once again.
“Oh yeah? Then why is Jake rushing over here to follow us?” Turning around you were greeted by Jake who was running to catch up to the two of you. His eyes trailed on Sunghoon as you missed the small frown he displayed before his usual smile played on his lips when you asked him why he was here. 
“Oh, my class got canceled.” he huffed out fixing his bag as he caught his breath. 
“Okay but why are you here.” Jake didn’t know what to say, it’s true why was he here? His class wasn’t canceled at all, if anything he had a quiz that was due at the end of his lecture. But something riled him seeing you and Sunghoon walking together out of the library, shoulders touching as you laughed at literally everything he was saying.
“Yeah, shouldn’t you go home? You have practice later.” you softly asked looking at your phone to confirm if it was the day of the week the guys had late practice.
“Yeah, we have practice, but I wanted to walk you home too.” He again emphasized glancing at Sunghoon who was enjoying this way more than he should be. 
“Oh we aren’t going home I’m taking Y/N to a cafe she’s been dying to try.” Sunghoon cut him off.
“We are?” Sunghoon nodded grabbing your elbow and dragged you up to a cafe near your apartment complex. Jake followed of course, leading closely behind as the three of you entered the cafe, your senses immediately inviting the cold brew that was being made as soft music played in the back.
“Hi welcome to Winter Moon!” A middle age woman welcomed standing next to a few workers who you assumed were new. Sunghoon informed both of you it was a newly opened cafe that had some of the best coffee he’s ever had, and of course, being the coffee connoisseur you were, you were excited to try. 
“How can I help you three today?” She asked smiling as she whipped her hands on her brown apron. Looking at the menu you couldn’t help but admire all the various types of coffees and teas, not to mention the baked goods on the display. After placing your orders Sunghoon tapped your shoulder after he fought with Jake over who paid for the drinks, Sunghoon ultimately winning. 
“Y/N you should try out for this!” Sunghoon pointed at the small sign posted near the cashier. It was a ‘looking for performers, good pay & good coffee!’ flyer, decorated cutely with stickers. 
“Oh, are you a performer?” You assumed she was the owner and shook your head looking at Jake and Sunghoon who were nodding their heads. She snickered before handing you the drinks the baristas finished pointing at the sign with an encouraging smile. 
“You’ll only be asked to play Friday and Saturday nights, you’re welcome to come tomorrow to try it out! No hard feelings if you wanna back out.” She winked walking over to a worker who was asking her how to work the machine. 
So you did, here you were with the guys sitting down at one of the many tables in the cafe on a Friday night, your heart beating loudly as you just performed a couple of cover songs you decided to pick out. 
“You did so good Y/N!” Jay smiled taking a sip of his americano as you thanked the people around you, putting your guitar back in its case. 
“You looked really pretty up there Y/N.” You felt a hand hover over the low of your back rubbing you comfortably, turning you saw Jake smiling proudly at you his dark hair framing his face as the warm light beautifully highlighted his features you haven’t seen in a while, purposely being busy as an excuse not to come to hang out.
“Jake?” Shifting your gaze behind him your small smile faded as you watched him remove his hold from you standing up to greet a girl some of the guys seemed to know.
“How have you been? You left so suddenly that night I didn’t get to talk to you.” You heard her say. Looking down you busy yourself touching the strap of your guitar case feeling the same sensation bubble inside you again. The only way you could describe it is similar to the feeling you feel when someone holds your hand in the dark, you feel safe and hopeful that whoever it was would stay with you. Only for you to grow disappointed when they let go once they find the light for themselves. 
“I’m going to go buy another drink.” You told Sunghoon who simply watched with his expression darkening as your figure walk away quickly allowing Jake to glance back to see you leave. Looking at the menu you bit your lip seeing a new sign indicating the cafe’s daily specials. 
“Hi.” Looking up you met eyes with a tall worker who had a small smile on his face as he rubbed his hands against his apron, his white dress shirt was cuffed up allowing you to see the small tattoos he had on his forearm. 
“Hi.” You mirrored back, smiling as you glanced at the menu again. 
“I-If you want something sugary you can try the Snowpiercer! It’s a cold brew steamed alongside white chocolate with our housemade cranberry syrup topped with sugar-frosted cranberry.” He pointed at the menu reaching over slightly as he touched your fingers that were sliding across the menu. 
“But if you want something not that sweet you can try Seoule Noel, it's a peppermint-infused white chocolate espresso topped with whipped cream and matcha powder. A little fresher with a bitter aftertaste but a customer favorite..” he explained your eyes glossing back to his in fascination.
“That sounds so good…” You mumbled causing him to chuckle. 
“Seoule Noel it is.” Nodding you reached to pay with your card only for him to reach his hands out stopping you. You recognized him to be one of the workers you saw Mrs.Choi assisting the first day you came in.
“It’s on the house.” He smiled nodding towards Mrs. Choi who was walking around conversing with the other customers. After you performed you were greeted with an open hug and excited smiles. She exclaimed how good you were and if you enjoyed how it went and if you were comfortable. She was nice, helping you set up and check the sound system beforehand, if there was anything you were nervous about it was to not disappoint her. You knew she didn’t want to pressure your decision but the more you were around here the more you wanted to stay.
“You were so good up there I hope you take the chance to take the job, I don’t think Mrs.Choi will need anyone else if you agree.” He added swiftly preparing your drink as you watch the espresso foam in the mug. 
“Really? I didn’t want to use one of my own songs since I’m kinda nervous, it’s been a while since I performed.” You rubbed your hands on your skirt not knowing how to respond to the attentive gaze he had on you. 
“Well If it makes you feel better I would rather listen to you sing all night than the loud machines and my co-workers goofing off back here.” He chuckled nodding his head at his friends who were behind him stealing glances.
“So if you still need a reason to take the job then do it for me.”
For a second you totally forgot about the whole reason you came for a drink in the first place, your half-drunk iced coffee that sat on the table next to Jake, oh right. You never wanted to look back and think about “what ifs” but maybe this was a sign for you to move on. Move on from someone who treated you like an option when you treated him like a priority. 
“Y/N I’m so sorry! I forgot I was supposed to walk you home. I got caught up talking with some of the guys on the team and-”
“Jake it’s fine Yeji came to get me.” You bit your lip holding your phone to your ear as you heard music booming through the other side, he was at a party. You lied, you had a late lab that day and Jake volunteered to walk you home since it was dangerous to walk alone at night. You were excited to have him walk you home just as it was in high school again. But when fifteen minutes turned into an hour turned into two you knew you couldn’t keep doing this to yourself. You always secretly believed that a love as true and pure as yours would be rewarded in the end, but now you were being forced to accept the bitter truth that it was, just not for you.
After that you never asked or accepted his invitations to walk you home again, saving yourself another disappointment. It was cruel but once you acknowledged it, it became one of the most courageous decisions you have ever made. To finally let go of what was hurting your heart and soul, you felt yourself at ease for once when he was around.
“You’re doing it again.” Sunghoon broke him from his daze, he hadn’t even realized his jaw was clenched as he glanced back down at your guitar case, the same one you picked out with him your sophomore year of high school. Amazing in Jake’s eyes, you were just simply amazing. Your pretty voice not only captured everyone’s attention but caught the attention of the barista as well much to his dislike. Being friends for a long time Jake couldn’t help but feel protective over you, or so he thought. Glancing back again his brows furrowed deeper in irritation, you two were just friends yet somehow every time your smile wasn’t towards him he felt uneasy. The eyes that shined for him were shining for another and he didn’t like it one bit. He hasn’t seen you as often recently and couldn’t help but notice your sudden change towards him.
“What are you talking about.” He mumbled watching as the man slid you the drink, making sure his fingers lingered on yours before you walked away nodding at something he said. Coming back Sunghoon smiled upon seeing you excitedly sit down, a new drink in your hands. 
“Who was that?” Jay cooed watching as you took a sip of your latte the peppermint lingering on your tongue as you glanced behind yourself to see him waiting for your reaction, you gave him a nod and a small thumbs up before turning back to your friends.
“Who Hyunjin?” You answered wondering why they were asking. Moving your guitar case for you to sit more comfortably you didn’t even notice the way Jake was trying to gain your attention, his hand trying to find its way to your knee from under the table. You stood up sitting in Jay’s spot instead claiming you were cold from sitting under the vent.
“Hyunjin’s a good guy, plus it looks like he’s into you.” Sunghoon glanced back at the barista who was conversing with the other guys that were boosting him up about something, you didn’t know why, but Jake did.  
“Yeah, he’s really nice, really funny too.” You giggled recalling the conversation you just had with him. After that night you were hired as the new performer and for the next couple of weeks you noticed the cafe picking up in business around the nights you performed. More and more people recognized you on campus as videos of your performances were posted online. The guys came to support you when they could, especially Jake, you were surprised.
“Felix I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to do it.” You laughed as you watched him and Hyunjin arguing about how to make this week special.
“This is why I can’t have fun during my shift because the two of you bully me all the time.” He whined going into the kitchen to help Mrs. Choi with the baked goods. 
“You wanna try?” Hyunjin suddenly asked you, motioning towards the latte and cream ready to be poured. Walking around the counter you picked up the cream and felt his hands grab your elbow, guiding you in creating the rose art on top of the drink. You didn’t even notice someone walking in before they cleared their throat catching both of you off guard.
 “Jake!” Your eyes widened, staring at him standing with his grasp on his backpack strap, his eyes staring at the hand on your elbow, and the other that enclosed you against the counter. Hyunjin stepped away to greet the male who he knew to be your close friend only to be coldly greeted back. Hyunjin coughed awkwardly before fixing a strand of hair that fell out of your messy low bun.
“What are you doing here?” You asked surprised he came, maybe he was with Sunghoon? Jay maybe since the two had similar classes today? You were even more surprised to see he was alone. Your expression must have bothered him as he shifted uncomfortably, what did you mean what was he doing here? You never had to question him before what was the change.
“I just wanted to see if you needed me to walk you home… practice got canceled.”
“Oh..” you stared at him, mouth slightly ajar. It’s been a while since Jake walked you home so you weren’t expecting him to come to the cafe himself. You knew at some point you’d have to go back to normal, instead this time, you weren’t going to be his practice round which always left you in end feeling stupid. 
“Yeah let me just go grab my stuff.” You smiled noting the way his eyes brightened and the corner of his lips lifted in a smile as he shifted his backpack on his shoulder. Hyunjin watched the two of you before his gaze stayed glued on Jake, noticing the way his eyes were shifting as if his inner turmoil was drilling through his thoughts.
“What are you her boyfriend?” Hyunjin asked after you left to the back surprising Jake who was making it obvious he didn’t want to talk to him.
“What did you just ask me?” Rolling his eyes Hyunjin shook his head as he cleaned up the drink you were making before.
“I don’t think you should be walking around acting like you’re her boyfriend if you’re not or aren’t planning to be.” He scoffed turning to smile at you the moment you emerged from the back quickly bidding him goodbye as Felix yelled from the kitchen.
“Let’s go?” You asked softly as he nodded glancing back at Hyunjin before opening the door for you to walk out first, unsure of the meaning behind his words.
It was, quiet. The evening breeze as the sun had set caused the sky to break into various colors of dark blue purple and orange. It felt cold and distant, you weren’t sure if it was the sky that was making you feel that way or how you and Jake walked silently side by side. 
You wondered how things got to this, you went from smiling together as you walked home shoulder to shoulder to walking as if the two of you were strangers, simply going the same way. He seemed just fine while you felt a piece of yourself slowly dying not being able to grasp the reality of what wasn’t yours anymore. 
And maybe that was something you wished for.
“Hey um, did I do something wrong?” as the two of you reached the front of your complex you turned to him as he asked the question, a small frown on his lips. 
“What do you mean.”
Sighing Jake ran his fingers through his hair frustrated how things weren’t how they were before.
“Y/N you’ve changed. I noticed the way you’ve been ignoring and acting as if we aren’t best friends!” You tensed, that fucking label again. You hated it. You hated it so much. 
“Jake-” 
“You don’t come to any of my games like you used to, you don’t even message me back anymore nor ask me to hang out with you. You used to do all these things for me, with me, and now you won’t even fucking look at me you know that?” he interrupted frustration lacing his words. Jake didn’t know what overcame him, months of your sudden disappearance from his life and the thought of you and Hyunjin becoming so close pissed him off beyond edge. 
“Jake I don’t know if you live in a stupid fucking bubble or if you’re just clueless about everything around you but do you even realize how selfish you are asking me that right now?” You fumed brows creasing as you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You were angry, what he felt you felt ten folds to hell and back, for so long. 
“Oh so now that you found a boy to do things with you don’t need me anymore.” he hissed eyes glaring as he could remember the image of you and Hyunjin laughing, his hands all over you like it was tattooed in his brain.
“Excuse me?” You huffed feeling the emotions you held in for so long slowly seep through your words.
“So when I do it I’m being selfish but the numerous times you’ve left me and forgotten about me suddenly it’s okay? That your sorrys can make up for it? Fuck you Jake.” You clenched your fist watching the way his eyes flickered slightly. 
“Fuck me? No fuck you, we’ve been friends for how long yet you-”
“Stop calling me that! All it does is remind me that you will never see me more than that.” You exclaimed feeling your tears pool in your eyes as all the words you’ve dreamed of saying, what you had to say mindlessly spilled out.
“You will never know what it feels like, you will never know how much it hurts to know someone will never look at you the way you look at them. I come running the second you call me and you can’t even bother to pick up when I-” You paused feeling yourself lose composure as the tears made it hard for you to see. 
You thought talking about your feelings, and yelling at him would make you feel better, make up for all the hurt and all the resentment you had towards your heart for choosing him. But you’ve never felt like this before, you can't break an already broken heart but something so wrong has never felt so true.
“You didn’t even come when I needed you the most.” You whimpered blinking out tears remembering events that happened a couple of weeks.
Your mother had suddenly collapsed after coming home from a procedure a couple of weeks prior, you had just finished one of your sets that Saturday night and got a call from your father about what happened. Hyunjin who offered to walk you home that night accompanied you as you rushed through the hospital parking lot searching for your father. 
“Y/N stay here I’m going to go get some things for you.” Hyunjin whispered noting your distressed mannerism and tear-stricken cheeks. 
You needed him, all you could remember was the comforting grasp Jake had on you the first time you were here, whispering sweet nothings and gentle caresses. 
“Jake pick up.” You whimpered leaning against the wall as the white lights of the ER filled your vision. You’ve called him for you didn’t know how many times, pressing his contact name as if he would appear the more you clicked. 
Voice mail, over and over again. He promised. You knew he promised, that one night when he swore to always be there for you. 
He lied. 
Quickly calling Sunghoon who immediately asked what was wrong you found out they were at a party in the town over. 
“Y/N what’s wrong do you need us? We’re coming-”
“No Sunghoon it’s okay have fun.” You tried to sound okay despite the tears that you let fall. Hanging up quickly you felt a warm hand rub your shoulder. 
“He’s not coming?” Shaking your head you couldn’t help but whimper at how pathetic you felt. It’s so ironic. The ones who always say, ‘I’m always going to be here for you.’ are the ones that walk away first. Fuck you felt so stupid.
“You love him don’t you,” Hyunjin stated feeling your breathing return to normal as your head was against his shoulder, the two of you sat in the lobby of the ER for what felt like hours. Nodding slowly you heard the long-haired boy exhale his grip on your hand tightening slightly. 
“I get what it’s like to want something but to try and force yourself to really believe that you don’t. Even if it’s just for a second.” You heard him whisper, you really tried to move on. 
Never before had you wanted to say so much but said so little.
Felt so much but stayed so silent. Even now as you looked at Jake you could feel your heart beating so loudly for him, almost like it was calling him waiting for a response back. 
“Y/N wait-”
“No Jake I’m tired of waiting.” You cut him off not noticing the way his eyes were darting around your face, taking in the way you were so broken because of him. You chuckled lightly whipping your cheek at how exhausted you felt, he was worth fighting for but you couldn’t be the only one fighting.
“I waited for you for a long time, and it showed me that loving you was the most exquisite form of self-destruction.” 
Jake didn’t see you after that, you walked away leaving him standing there for who knows how long processing everything that you told him. He knew that every word and action had consequences but he didn’t realize silence did too. He felt like he was going crazy. Walking around mindlessly just thinking to himself for what felt like forever had only been a couple of hours.
You liked him? Sometimes he would notice the way you two looked at each other held so much more than how friends looked at each other.
He’s thought about it, how your laugh echoes through his memories at random times during the day, how he’s able to be vulnerable and honest with you. 
Since then it’s been a week and Jake hasn’t come out of his room unless it was for school or to head to the bathroom. Sunghoon couldn’t help but worry for his friend.
“Jake come out we need to talk.” Sunghoon knocked on his door, he knew something was wrong once Jake stepped into their apartment, quickly rushing to his room his eyes distant hands shaking as he closed the front door. 
Once he realized the door was unlocked he slowly opened it up allowing him to see a figure sitting on the bed hunched over. 
“Sunghoon-”
“I know.” Looking up Sunghoon could see the turmoil in his pupils, mixed with the glossy facade accompanied by the tiredness under his eyes. Denial.
“What’s wrong, really.” He asked sitting down next to Jake who just held his face in his palms recalling the images of you crying as you told him how much he hurt you that night.
“I thought I was doing a good thing leaving her alone, distracting myself so I wouldn’t keep thinking about...about-” 
“About how you liked her more than a friend should like another friend?” Sunghoon finished his sentence, he didn’t know why he couldn’t say it, it was at the tip of his tongue. Jake sighed running his hands along his face as Sunghoon sat beside him noting that maybe his suspicions were corrected, he just didn’t know why Jake never admitted it as you did.
“Why didn’t you say anything before? You know she liked you for a while now.” Sunghoon whispered playing with the duvet as Jake couldn’t help but stare at his wall. His wall filled with decorated photos of the two of you. Memories he didn’t want to taint bitterly if he took a chance and things didn’t work out. The more he looked around the more he realized you were there during all parts of his life, in his thoughts and in his illusions.
You were all he has ever known, the fear of losing you has always scared him, pushing away feelings while trying to project them onto other distractions never worked. He thought he was doing what was best for you the two of you, for you, but he ended up hurting the one person he never wanted to push away. He was so busy doing that he didn’t realize you lit yourself on fire to keep him warm, only a matter of time till your flame went out, and it kills him inside.
He didn’t understand his feelings until that one day at the school festival in high school, you were singing on stage for the first time yet it felt like you were only singing to him. With your beautiful smile and gentle gazes, he recognized you weren’t just Y/n his best friend anymore, you were Y/N the girl who he didn’t realize had his heart before he could say no.
Another moment that provoked him to confront these feelings was the times he saw you in his jersey, standing in the crowd supporting him for everyone to see that you were there for him, his. He felt so selfish for wishing there was more, instead, he pushed those thoughts away. The moment you began to pull away from him, it scared him, seeing you happy with other guys he knew were braver than him to tell you how they really felt. 
“Jake I know you didn’t mean harm, but you have to realize you’re hurting yourself just as much as you are hurting her by being in denial. I know it’s crazy how someone can seem normal to you one day only for you to realize the next day that you are in love with them. It is like a light bulb suddenly being turned on I don’t know.” Sunghoon huffed out as he stared at the fan from above. 
“Jay and I were talking about it the other day, how you always make a move on girls when Y/N is around and the moment she leaves your interest does too.” He shook his head, Jay had brought up to Sunghoon about Jake’s odd behavior, especially lately. The unnecessary flirting with girls while you were around, the heated glances when he saw you with Hyunjin, all the small things they found off before began to piece, like pieces of a puzzle.
“I know you were clueless and stupid but I didn’t know you were this stupid,” he emphasized lighting the mood as he could see the small grin on Jake's face.
“If you need a sign that it’s okay to take the risk then let it be this. You’ll never have a moment like this again so tell her how you feel. I promise you Y/N will listen, you know how she is.” Sunghoon comforted him when he noticed Jake whipping his eyes with his fingers. It’s hard, it’s hard to know a lot of this was caused by fear of failure and disappointment but Jake knew nothing would hurt more than the thought of knowing he did nothing to show you how much he cared and how wrong you were about his feelings. He had to tell you before it was too late. 
With a pat on the back Sunghoon motioned towards the time and Jake realized what day it was- Saturday night. 
Rushing to the cafe Jake quickly stepped into the building noticing how people were cleaning up as it was near closing hours. Even if you weren’t in your best condition he knew you’d still show up, that’s just who you were not wanting to disappoint others. 
“She’s not here bozo.” he heard someone call from behind him.
Hyunjin stood by the door a rag in his hands as he finished cleaning some of the tables by the windows an annoyed expression on his face as he realized how distraught Jake was, he figured something like this would’ve happened sooner or later. 
“Did she leave early?” Jake asked quickly not noting the way Hyunjin scoffed as he motioned for Jake to follow him outside. 
Sitting at one of the outside coffee tables Hyunjin threw the rag on top of the table sighing as he untied his apron. 
“She didn’t show up today.” He sighed, rolling his eyes as he could see Jake start panicking again. It was annoying, Hyunjin knew no matter how much he tried it was always Jake. 
“Calm down she didn’t come because she’s looking after her mom who just had another procedure. She called off last week.” Jake nodded but bit his lips once again, he knew how much you hated being at the hospital why didn’t you tell him?
“I hope you know you were the first person she called when I took her to the hospital the last time her mom was admitted, you didn’t pick up by the way.” He huffed noting the way Jake’s posture immediately slouched, he was just digging the nail deeper in the coffin. Jake felt like absolute shit, if it wasn’t obvious from the way he looked, he felt it.
Cursing under his breath he pulled out his phone to call you and of course, you didn’t pick up.  
“What was your reason for not telling her till now..” Hyunjin asked after the two sat in silence.
Jake sighed running his hands through his hair as the night breeze surrounded him.
“I was just scared, maybe of the unknown and fear of what can happen, maybe she’s confusing her feelings for something else.” Jake whispered shaking.
“Well I can tell you she loves you Jake, she even told me, I feel like a part of you knew that too,” he was surprised, you told Hyunjin you loved him? He was happy, a little too happy Hyunjin thought as he could see the pride and bliss growing in his eyes. 
“And I can tell you love her too, I don’t blame you for being scared of what-ifs but I’ll blame you if you don’t do anything to fix it.” Jake nodded understanding where he was coming from.
Love was like an untamed and whimsical force, when you try to control it, it can wreck you. When you try to hide it, it enslaves you to emotions and thoughts that make you do and think of things that aren’t true. When you try to understand it, the more you want to figure it out the more it leaves you lost and confused. 
“Just know if you could love someone, and keep loving them, without knowing if you’re being loved back…then that love had to be real. It hurt too much to be anything else, so trust yourself.”
“Mom I’m going to get some fresh air.” You sighed as your dad just arrived after work to come to pick you and your mother up. She was doing better, and you were glad, you should be happy even, but after what happened and what you felt for the past week you had to fake a smile for your mom, anything for your mom.
“Okay honey thank you for staying the night with me we’ll be leaving soon so hurry back! I’m sorry, I know how much you hate it here.” You shook your head holding her hand happy everything went well and it was only uphill from here. 
“I’ll be back.” You softly hummed stepping out of the room as you walked out the corridor.
“Her room is that way, sir,”
“Thank you so much.” You realized who it was by the voice alone.  How did he even know you were here to begin with? Cursing at Hyunjin you turned around to see him walking toward you with flowers in his hands. 
“I-I got these for your mom, is she awake?” You couldn’t believe he was here at all. You thought things would turn for the worst after your confrontation, that all you could do was admire and watch him from afar, his once familiar elements soon to be reduced to nothing other than seeing his face through photographs and his name through conversations. Clearing your throat you nodded your hands fumbling with the hems of your sweater.
“Yeah uh, she’s with my dad right now packing up.” 
“Can I talk to you, please Y/N,” he pleaded softly eyes tracing yours as he could see how tired you were, he felt horrible, terrible even. If only he could he’d take away all your exhaustion and pain he's caused he would.
You followed him outside to the small garden as the two of you sat down, enjoying the cool breeze and early morning sun. 
“Y/N-”
“Jake I just want you to know that I stayed by your side even when I knew you would never feel the same, I take responsibility for that it’s not your fault I-”
“Y/N listen to me please.” he cut you off as he set the bouquet of flowers down on the bench. You noticed the way his hands shook and his voice tight.
“It’s been years,” Jake muttered looking at you as his eyes stared into yours.
“Years since we’ve known each other, I know how you move from the way the sun highlights your eyes to the way it shines on your cheeks. I also know the corners of your lips lift first when you smile,” you could see him breathing quickly as his hands rubbed against the fabric of his jeans. 
“I know you like it when your ramen is spicier than it should be which is why I always make a separate one for you, making sure it’s the brand you like since you don’t like this specific type. And I know you like to sleep on your side since you can’t stand how your hair looks when you wake up if you sleep upright you know all messy in the back-” you felt your heart warm as Jake kept rambling, you couldn’t help but reminiscence about how long the two of you have been around each other, growing comfortable with one another to the point you knew of each other's habits and routines.
“I know all these things about you but what I didn’t know was I can recall all these things not because you’re my best friend, but because I care and love you enough to know them in the first place.” He whispered watching as your eyes widened searching his for any essence of doubt.
“I didn’t know I was going to want you in ways I knew friends shouldn’t want other friends, but there more I fought those thoughts the crazier I felt. I didn’t know how deeply I fell for you until the moment I realize I gave you my heart without me even knowing.”
This was a lot for you to take in, from the way he was talking to you sweetly to the way his eyes were pooling with warmth, making sure you understood everything he was saying was coming from his truth. 
You only dreamed of times like this, Jake reached his hand out to you rubbing your hands within his palms noticing how cold they were. 
“Y/N please believe me when I say that when I picture myself happy, it’s not with anyone else but you.” He softly spoke bringing your hand up his chest, you could feel how fast it was beating as you could feel yours as well, syncing with his as the two of you looked at each other. 
“Jake why didn’t you say anything before?” You whispered thinking you had cried all the tears you had in you, but here you were feeling the burning sensation in your eyes. 
“I’m so sorry Y/N, I was just so scared that you wouldn’t feel the same way as me or if what we felt wasn’t what we truly believed I just-” he paused squeezing your hand as he couldn’t find the words.
“I’m just so sorry, I might not know how to handle every fight or every feeling we experience because I’m not perfect but I will risk it all, take any chances if it keeps us together and make you happy.” He licked his lips as you saw the way his eyes slowly allowed his tears to flow.
“I won’t give up on you, so please don’t give up on me.” he whimpered bringing your hands up to his forehead. 
“Jake I could never give up on you, never.” you hushed bringing your free hand up to his cheeks, rubbing your thumb as he leaned into your touch.
Pulling you towards him he embraced you bringing his face into your hair, melting into your warmth as you caressed the back of his neck. 
“I’m so so sorry Y/N.”
“I know Jake it’s okay.” you sighed feeling him hug you tighter the two of you sitting in silence. 
“I know you won’t believe me, you can doubt me as much as you want but I’m not going anywhere, I’m not going to leave you, I don’t care if there are a million reasons I won’t.” He nodded pulling back as he held your face caressing your cheekbones with his thumb. 
You laughed slightly causing his heart to skip a beat, despite the tears you shed you were still so beautiful. 
“Jake why would I not believe you?” You clutched onto his arm brows furrowing as you saw the way his eyes were taking in your features as if he’d never see you again.
“Just making sure.” He whispered breathlessly. 
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” He suddenly asked rubbing his thumb over your lips as you smiled at him fixing his flannel.
“All the time..” You chuckled standing up holding a hand out for him to grab recalling all the times he made your heart flutter by complimenting you.
“But I meant this time as your boyfriend.” he chuckled grabbing your hand standing up.
“Boyfriend?” You raised a brow at him your tone snapping a little, his eyes widened as he nervously squeezed your hand. 
“You didn’t even bring me flowers.” You pouted eyes glancing at the bouquet in his hands. He cursed holding the flowers up to his line of sight before bringing them down. 
“Oh my god, I’ll get you flowers when we go back- actually you take these I’ll go get new ones for your mom I’ll be right back just wait for me-”
“Jake I was joking!” you giggled pulling him back towards you. All he could do was shake his head chuckling slightly as he tackled you into a tight hug causing the both of you to stumble. He couldn’t believe that he was finally able to do what he’s been wanting to do. No more hiding emotions and no more denying them as well.  He wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t going to leave you alone, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for clingy Jake. But apart of you knew it was just another thing you’ll grow to love of him.
“Don’t those two remind you of us when we were their age?” Your mom asked as your dad finished packing everything up for discharge. Glancing out the window they watched as the two of you laughed while hugging, savoring the warmth of the sun mixed with the warmth of each other. 
Jake suddenly pecked your cheek causing you to pause while bringing your hand up, your mouth ajar as his smug grin took in your flustered expression. 
“I was better looking back then though.” Your dad boasted causing your mom to laugh as the two walked hand and hand down to the both of you.
Falling in love is always something unexpected. You live your life and suddenly it hits you, and maybe that’s why it’s so wonderful. It can be scary since you have no control over who and when it happens but if you allow it to happen, beautiful things come your way. 
Never be ashamed of how much you love and how fast it happens. As long as you love fully, completely, and of course, naturally don’t ever apologize for it. 
Don’t be sorry for allowing your heart to do what it knows how to do best.
Tumblr media
Enhypen Hyung Line Trope Series
Masterlist
2K notes ¡ View notes
nanaminsmoon ¡ 8 months
Text
𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫!𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
a/n: this has just been sat in the vaults for a month and i'm just in eren brainrot mode rn so here she is😁 also, i just imagined rapper!eren being like central cee. so just imagine him wearing a nike tech in every interaction lol.
Tumblr media
cw: fingering, pnv, infidelity, mentions of breeding, finger sucking, eren calls reader; 'ma', 'my girl', 'baby', and i don't cosign homewrecking be respectful y'all😭
cw: 4590...
Tumblr media Tumblr media
rapper!eren who tells you it was never meant to go this far, because it truly wasn't. it all started because you had similar music taste, so you understood the influence of his favourite artists (which happened to be your favourite artists) on his music.
you first met rapper! eren when you bumped into one another at the record store. he was a popular up and coming artist, so you somewhat recognised him but you couldn't pinpoint where from. you had been in the same section of the shop and he liked your outfit, thought you had great taste and, when you turned around, he saw that you were bad. so he sparked up a conversation with you. he was used to people pretending they didn’t know who he was just to get into his inner circle but, upon further conversation, he could tell that you really barely had any idea who he was. and, initially, that was a punch to his ego (because damn his music isn’t reaching baddies like that??), but he just decided it was for the best.
rapper!eren who called you after you gave him your number, which you found quite interesting because you barely knew each other and he was calling you before even texting you?? but you answered, and conversations about anything and everything meant that when you looked up from the doodle you had been focused on while talking to him, the small clock hand had moved forwards three numbers. saying you were ‘surprised’ by his depth makes it seem as though you expected him to be an idiot, but you were just taken aback by the way that every other word he said to you was an echo of the thoughts you had never gotten the chance to shout out into the world.
rapper!eren whose words had your cheeks heating up as they begun to ache from smiling at his flirtatious tone. honeyed syllables flowed into your ears, only just to run back out, slowly caressing your skin on its way down to the space between your legs. though not necessarily obscene, rapper!eren‘s words dirtied the scenes running in your mind, painting a packed gallery of lude images you wanted him to paint all over your body.
“did you just giggle?”, he chuckled over the phone, and you shook your head furiously as if he could see you.
“what? no!”, you sat up on your bed, the defence on your features evident to both you and the walls surrounding you. he wasn’t wrong, you did giggle. but you wouldn’t let him hear that admission. it felt slightly ridiculous, because you had only known him for a few weeks, but whenever you saw the name ’eren<;3’ appear on your phone, the muscle between your ribs would begin a high intensity workout. the effects manifesting themselves in the endorphins flying through your body, and the way he just made you feel…giddy.
calls started off as being once every few days. then it was once a day. then his name was painting your phone screen twice a day. then it became a few times a day; he would call you when he woke up, and you would try your best to not lose it over his morning voice, especially when he said shit like:
”i wish i could see you right now, i feel like you look cute in the morning. nah? i don’t believe that”.
you would call him on your commute, then you’d eat dinner together over facetime. then, once the sun set, every step in your night-time routine would be interrupted by rapper!eren’s inquisitons about literally everything: ”what’s that for?”, ”what does that do?”, ”your skin is perfect you don’t need all that.” and, soon, the texts began sprinkling themselves in between those calls; ’good morning’ texts, ’how’s your day goin?’ texts, ’show me your fit’ texts, ’facetime?’ texts, and ’you got time to call?’ texts.
then two, or so, months passed and you came to find out why the beginning of your relationship was mainly just calls: so it couldn’t be traced back to him. though he had your contact saved, he could always just delete your call logs, and you would have no way of proving that you actually spoke. this revelation struck you shortly after a tiktok came up on your foryoupage showing someone talking about rapper!eren and his rumoured girlfriend. said ‘rumoured’ girlfriend who really just looked like his actual girlfriend with the way his arm was slung around her shoulder, her hand reaching up to hold his, as he nuzzled his nose against her cheek. as soon as rapper!eren noticed the cameras, he peeled himself off of her and put his hands in his joggers. and, as pissed as you were, you could admit that the girl was cute; standing shorter than him, with short brown hair.
rapper!eren whose eyebrows met to screw in frustration at his calls and texts going unanswered. a part of him grew unreasonably pissed off when he kept calling you and kept getting sent to voicemail. at first, he assumed you were just busy so he just postponed his call because he knew what time you usually ate dinner, meaning he knew when you usually called him. but to make sure you weren’t still busy, he texted you and again, it was just ‘read’.
“what the fuck?”, he whispered at his phone screen as he sat in the back of the black suv. no matter what he tried, rapper!eren got no response and he didn’t know why that cut him so deep. he was inured to female attention so your replacement was nothing more than a dm away. but…he didn’t want to replace you. talking to you had become so pivotal to his day-to-day routine and he didn’t like that being taken away from him without him having a say. but after three days of dodging his calls, you finally texted him.
…: you have a gf?
rapper!eren: thats what this shit was about y/n?
…: this shit?? nigga you have a girlfriend tf you mean this shit??
rapper!eren: its more complicated than that
…: is it???
…: she’s either your gf or she isn’t how’s that complicated?
rapper!eren: dw abt it
rapper!eren: come to my studio tonite. got smth i wanna run by you
…: huh??
read.
rapper!eren who finally responded a few hours after that conversation. but, instead of the explanation you were looking for, you got sent an address and a message telling you that someone was on their way to come pick you up. you quickly texted rapper!eren your address, then you had just half an hour to get ready. had this been a week ago, you would’ve done a bit more; matching underwear and all. but instead, you just decided to keep it cute but simple—both your outfit, and your makeup.
you got a text telling you to make your way outside and when you did, you were met with a black suv with tinted windows. as weird as it looked, the driver asking for your name reassured you and you got in. the drive to the address was silent. it was just you and the driver in there, and he didn’t even spare you a glance once you got in the car, so you were just left with your thoughts. and they made it a very gruelling 30 minute journey. once you arrived at the building, the driver took you to the door, where you were met with rapper!eren‘s manager. that’s when you found out that the building was where rapper!eren‘s studio was.
rapper!eren who sat alone behind a translucent door, looking down at his phone until his manager opened the door. you hadn’t seen him in person since the first time you met and, knowing what you now knew, your heart was at the pit of your stomach. so your first few moments there were spent stood, abashedly, at the door. an unreadable smirk braced his face at your appearance, before he made his way to hug you. being polite, you hugged him back. and those nasty wasps in your stomach were mixing with butterflies. you hated it to say it, but you were attracted to rapper!eren and the strong smell of his aftershave was enough to drive the butterflies in your stomach to migrate to the space between your legs. but, at some point, their wings would be clipped by the fact that the man had a girlfriend.
rapper!eren who noticed you looking a little skittish, and moved to stroke your arm to calm you down but you just looked at him blankly so he moved away. the weird feeling in your stomach had yet to go away, and it only grew once you looked around and saw that the only lights on were red LED lights, and a few candles placed on random tables.
“you drink?”, rapper! eren picked up a bottle of expensive looking red wine and two big wine glasses.
“not with men who have girlfriends, no.”, you quipped, taking your hoodie off, and putting it on the sofa.
rapper! eren who really did call you there to ask you about something because he had made a new song, and he wanted to see how you liked it. no one else knew what his vision was but, having similar music taste, he knew you would. but the second your hoodie came off, his intentions wavered. at that very moment, he could feel the very thing he had been trying to bury for the past few days, making his dick twitch in his joggers. making it infinitely harder to ignore—if he even wanted to do that anymore.
rapper! eren whose eyes glimmered at the sight of you thoroughly enjoying his song, even giving him real feedback that he knew would make the song better. you were sat by his laptop and the way your knees would touch whenever you moved to the beat did not go neglected. despite your prior apprehensions, he had poured you both some red wine, and you were slowly making your way through your glasses. mid-conversation, he caught you staring at his chains. especially the pendant with his name on it; bussed down and twinkling even under the minimal lighting.
“you like ‘em?”, he looked down at his chest, smirking, and you nodded at him.
“are they heavy?”, you giggled. that chain was thick but the pendant on it looked like it had some weight on it too.
rapper! eren‘s answer wasn’t verbal, instead he just reached behind his neck and took it off, holding it toward you,
“try it on”, he said, quietly and you shook your head. the man had a girlfriend why was he drinking with you, and asking you to put his chain on??
“nah, bro, that’s too far. you’ve got a gir—”, you began, and rapper! eren rolled his eyes as he got up from his chair,
“first off, she’s not here. second, don’t call me ‘bro’. that’s what my boys call me.”, he stood, looking down at you, obviously waiting for you to stand up. your guilt only grew, to subside again, as you got up. and then he stepped closer. you were sat pretty close before, but now the tips of your shoes were meeting. then he leaned forward and reached behind you to put his chain on you. once it hung around your neck, you got the answer to your question; it was heavy.
lost in observation, you hadn’t even realised the way rapper! eren‘s hands hadn’t left your body, they had just changed locations. they moved from the back of your neck, to your cheeks where he held you to face him. fuck. this man was fine. yes, you felt bad but she was purring. you didn’t know his girl so what loyalties did you have to her? and plus, who are you to judge other people’s relationships? maybe she’s okay with him cheating…
you knew damn well you were just being selfish, but that didn’t stop you from moaning into rapper! eren‘s mouth once his lips collided with yours. the way the baby, blue shimmer of the diamonds bounced off the gloss on your lips made them impossible to ignore. they were just asking for rapper! eren to mess them up, and replace the sheen with the one provided by his saliva. this wasn’t the first time he had cheated on his girlfriend; he was surrounded by beautiful women who wanted him every single day, and he had the self control of a dog who hadn’t been fed in weeks. but this time felt like more than just kissing, rapper! eren didn’t want anyone else to have you. and he hadn’t realised that until he saw you with his name shining around your neck.
the slow, fervent kiss grew haste when rapper! eren‘s hands started moving to grip anything he could through your dress. soon, you were straddling him on the black leather sofa, slowly grinding on him as he pushed you down onto the tent forming in his grey nike tech. naturally, your dress began to hike up your body, and rapper! eren aided its trek by pulling it up so the end of the dress was lightly pecking the top of your black lace thong. it was at this point that rapper! eren knew that there was no going back for him; if he didn’t fuck you now, he would be dreaming about it until he did.
his lips did not leave you once—moving from your own to your cheeks, jaw, neck, chest. his hand laid on your clothed tit, the other being pulled out from under your dress, and quickly covered by his swollen pink lips. the way his tongue swirled around your nipple had you throwing your head back, your hips not stopping once. veins that once transported blood became the primary vehicle for the pleasure he was providing you, you hadn’t even noticed his hand moving to the space between your legs. slipping your thong aside, he began rubbing circles on your clit.
“’ren, p-please”, you whined, breathlessly. thoughts weren’t connecting properly anymore, so you didn’t even know what you were pleading for. you just felt the need to say something.
“w-wait, please”, you breathed out, and he hummed against whatever skin he was kissing at that point, you really didn’t know anymore. your entire body was on fire, so it all just felt like one big sensation.
“i am waiting, ma”, rapper! eren cooed, “there’s a lot more i wanna be doing right now.”, he nipped your other breast that he had alternated to at some point, and you knew he would leave a mark. and that’s exactly what he wanted.
a few minutes passed before rapper! eren inserted his middle and ring finger inside you. shivers ran a marathon all over your body as his bussed down star ring grazed your thigh, while he pumped his tattooed digits in and out of you. all the while, rapper! eren‘s eyes never left your face; the glistering jades illuminated every feature on you—your moistened pert nipples, your bleary gaze, and your parted lips. your drool mixing with his saliva still on them.
it didn’t take long for you to cum all over his fingers, trembling and cantillating his name into the space around the both of you. no part of your body could handle that wave once it washed over you, the tide pulling your forehead onto his chest, that was heaving almost as deeply as yours was. you hadn’t done much, but rapper! eren was so turned on by the fact that he was making you feel good. but even knowing that, his fingers didn’t relent.
once you were able to lift your heavy eyelids, and open your eyes, you saw a space grey patch on rapper! eren ‘s light grey tech, and that aroused a small panic in your stomach.
“’ren, s-stop”, you began, and as soon as that word left your mouth, his fingers stilled. a billion thoughts raced through his mind; maybe you’d changed your mind, maybe it didn’t feel good anymore. but when he found out that it was just because you didn’t want to get his tech wet, he chortled at how cute you were, and stroked your teary cheek with the hand that wasn’t pumping in and out of you again.
“you think i care if people know how wet my girl gets when she’s with me?”, he spoke onto the skin on your neck. fuck. you hated how good it felt to be called that, but you couldn’t stop the way you clenched around his fingers at that nickname. the same nickname that belonged to another woman.
“you like that? me calling you ‘my girl’?”, rapper! eren teased, lifting your chin when you tried to evade eye contact, “you want me to fuck you with my chain ‘round your neck? make you mine for real?”, his hand was wrapped around the top of your neck to hold your chin in place, and you just nodded furiously. fighting your need for him was futile, so you would give in now and regret this later.
confirmation received, rapper! eren picked you up and placed you on the sofa on your back, lips still glued on your neck. it wasn’t until he paused momentarily to take off his hoodie and shirt that you realised where things were going and panic returned. you placed your manicured fingers flat on his chest, providing a bit of resistance as your head shook slightly. but you didn’t say anything, simply hoping the look in your eyes would communicate everything your mouth couldn’t.
“your girlfriend”, you spoke, voice barely above a whisper. and rapper! eren moved closer to your face, meeting your lips. then he spoke against them,
“tell me you don’t want this, and i’ll stop”, he told you sincerely and you stammered, words failing you once again. or, really, you failing yourself because there were no words you could string together to hide the way you wanted needed this man to fuck you until you started crying. you’d heard the stories, you’d heard the song lyrics, and there was no smoke without fire. so you wrapped yourself up in a fire blanket and walked straight into the blazing heat. you shook your head at him, and reached for the bulge poking you in your stomach. and he smiled down at you before kissing you again and pulling back to get condoms from a drawer next to the sofa.
rapper!eren whose mind could barely grasp the concept of anything that wasn’t how tight you would feel around him. at this point in time, he didn’t know where he was anymore, nor did he care. the faint sounds of people talking in the hallways outside his studio were hushed static compared to the soft whines escaping your lips. you were desperate; this man had thrown a lasso around you, pulled you into his orbit, and then was just tangling you in front of himself. almost as if he was teasing himself—placing you in front of his face, legs wide open, yet not doing anything to close the faucet responsible for his leaking, throbbing, pink tip. but only rapper!eren knew that the reason for his eyes sprinting across your body, unbothered by the finish line, was because he didn’t know where to start with you. he had stripped you of your dress; he didn’t plan on doing so originally, but he needed to see your tits bounce as he fucked you so it had to come off. but now that you were whining underneath him—spit sliding down the corners of your mouth, making its way down onto the sides of your neck as you sucked on his tatted fingers, eyes locked with his own, he didn’t know what to do with you. your eyes had rendered him paralysed; yes, he may have been on top of you, but you were in control. He was on his knees for you, literally! he was on his knees on the sofa, with his legs caging one of your own.
rapper!eren who, as mesmerised as he was, remembered that he couldn’t just gawk at you forever so he positioned himself at your entrance. looking at you before he put it in, he saw a smirk painted on your face,
“nervous?”, you teased, and he scoffed at you. all it took was for his tip to softly poke your entrance, for you to cry out his name. if he was in his right mind, he might’ve given you shit for how quickly you were eating your own words. but all he could think about was how he hadn’t even done anything and you were already falling apart underneath him.
“fuck.”, he breathed out as he looked at his dick, still visible between your legs.
rapper!eren was a very sought after man, women wanting him did not surprise him. but you moaned his name like you needed him. like you were flirting with the brink of insanity every single second his dick wasn’t deep in your guts. and, rapper!eren may have been a very unloyal man, but he was very possessive. and there was nothing he hated more than people fucking with what’s his. so he would rip you from the hands of insanity, and fuck you until the afterglow was so prominent that everyone would know to go nowhere near you.
“just wait for me, baby, yeah? I’m right here”.
rapper!eren who lets out a deep sigh as soon as he starts pushing himself inside you, his eyeballs exploring the back of their sockets when he felt how tight you were. he had been intent on watching you take him in, inch by inch (all 8 of them), as he sheathed himself into you. but how wet you were was making him delirious. it felt like you were tightening around him with every half an inch that you took of him. probably because you were. everything was hitting you all at once, and your body was just reacting without even consolting you. it was how sexy he was, the sound of his heavy breathing, low moans hitting your ear. bitch it felt like you were doing the damn tiktok kegel exercises.
from what you had barely seen earlier through your drenched eyelashes, you knew that there would be a lot of rapper!eren to take in. but it seemed like the man was just never ending. when you thought he was fully inside you, he would push some more and you would feel yourself stretch around him. it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, just a lot to get used to. so your arms were reaching across his back, scratching slightly as he bottomed out inside of you.
deep sighs and whiny protests soon became blissful incantations of pleasure leaving your lips to hit rapper!eren‘s bare shoulder. his tatted fingers were digging into the fat surrounding your hips, waist, anything he could reach. not too long after you two began fucking, his manager had opened the door to ask if he was ready to go. but, when he opened the door to the soundproof studio and saw you two fucking on the sofa, he figured rapper!eren had some loose ends to tie up before he left to go to his hotel. neither of you had noticed because you were too busy focusing on the sweet words leaving this man’s mouth, as well as his chains hitting your skin. no soul would’ve guessed that this man’s pen game was crazy with the fucked out nonsense he was spewing on whatever skin he was kissing at the time.
”imma fuck you so good nobody’s gonna be good enough f’r you. hm? you want that? fuck, if I wasn’t so stupid(?) i’d fuck a baby in you. i promise you. this pussy’s so fucking tight, i don’t even care anymore. i got money, i could take care of a kid. you wan’ it? you wan’ me to just get you pregnant? let everyone call you my baby mama? you’re a slut you know that, yeah? just wan’ my nut leaking outta you? fuck, y/n, you’re gonna get me in trouble.”
rapper!eren whose fingers teased your clit, slow and gentle as if he wasn’t pounding into you with reckless abandon on some small sofa in his studio. but the few seconds that those two fingers sped up on your little bud of nerves were enough to have you drenching his lower abdomen, and fingers. too lost in the moment, he had forgotten to taste you earlier, so he put his fingers in his mouth and he rolled his tongue around them. the taste of you in his mouth dropped his eyelids, his hips moving faster and faster as your arousal coated his tastebuds.
rapper!eren who couldn’t remember the last time he was that turned on by anyone. his hips were moving on their own, rushing to get that release. he wanted to hold it, because he wanted to give you round after round after round and he wanted you to cum, at least, one more time before he did so himself. if it were up to him, he would pick you up and take you into the booth and fuck you in there so he could get some adlibs for his next song. but he just couldn’t do it.
“i’ll—fuck—i’ll make it up to you. i swe—shit”, he quickly pulled out of you, and scrambled to take his condom off. his hand managed one stroke on his dick before his nut spurted all over your chest, specks finding themselves on your chin. before the last droplets of his release dripped onto your stomach.
once he finished, rapper!eren pulled back and, as his eyes regained focus, he was just mesmerised by you. eyes barely opening, bodily fluids all over you, but his chain remained proud at the centre of your chest. he had to take his phone out and take a few pictures of you just like that. spurts of his cum acted as an adhesive, sticking his name onto your heart. yeah, he wasn’t letting you go now. he didn’t know how to feel about the cum splattered on his chain, but he just settled on getting a new one and just letting you keep that one. how he would explain that to his girlfriend, he had no fucking clue but he would figure something out…
after he took you to a hotel suite and made up for nutting quicker than he had hoped…by fucking you senseless:))
Š Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.
712 notes ¡ View notes
yeyinde ¡ 1 year
Note
Hiii I LOVED your fic with soap I’ve read it like 5 times since I found it yesterday, your writing is absolutely STUNNING and the characterization for Soap was spot on. If you have any free time I would love a Ghost fic like Soap’s— domestic, fluff, SMUT, and a little angst. I feel like Ghost would be a tender, giving lover if given the chance to be truly comfortable with someone. Anyway, if not, I just wanted to say your writing is some of the best I’ve ever read and it inspired me to pick up my own pen and start writing again :)
hi! @madiganjay and thank you so much!! 🖤😭 that's so sweet and i'm sooo sorry this took so long! i have no excuses just Ghost + Domestic Fluff had me oscillating between several different ways this could go. to me, the idea of domesticity with Ghost is permanence and presence. something tangible that confirms his existence, that ties him to you.
i tried my best at domestic Ghost, so i don't know if this is quite what you had in mind, but i hope you enjoy it!! this is nearly 8k of Ghost Doing His Best™️
⇾ warnings: gendered reader, female!reader, gendered anatomy; unfettered filth (as per usual); slightly possessive!Ghost, jealous!Ghost; unsafe sex
Tumblr media
"Brought curry." It's not much of a greeting—no hello, how are you? How was your day?—just: "didn't have lamb, so I got chicken." 
On the television in front of him, a game between Everton and Manchester United plays. Streaks of red and blue dart across the sprawling field of green. Takeout is spread out on your coffee table—curry for him, butter chicken for you; he got you salted Lassi, too. The white drink sits on the table beside the styrofoam containers, dripping condensation down the clear plastic cup. The colours catch in the clear polymer. Neon smears in milky white. 
Its—
Salt pools between your teeth; your lips sting. "You—," your voice breaks over the word; a tendril of embarrassment curls inside of your guts, admixing the alcohol you'd just finished drinking with Gaz. You flush, clear your throat. "I wasn't expecting you."
It's a stupid thing to say, in retrospect. You never expect him, and you suppose that's the point. Ghost—Simon Riley—comes and goes like an undomesticated alley cat wandering around until he lets himself inside your flat for however long he plans on staying. 
There is no routine in this. No set schedule; nothing was ever painted in concrete, just shades of sporadic abstracts. He comes, he goes. Ephemeral visits only a handful of times a year. 
It's the fourth—year, that is. 
The weight of it sat in your stomach for weeks. Knots spool together until a clump forms in the pit. Heavy and noxious; it leaked poison into your bloodstream that carried the illness of want in a particularly nasty shade of green. 
Four years since Price had dragged you—an office worker on loan from HQ—to a sparse room in a country you'd never been to before, and you set your eyes on the interrogator known, then, only as Ghost. 
(Terrorism never sleeps, Price always says. 
Whenever he's around, neither do you.)
The walls were painted in rust. The stench of wet pennies and sweat filled the air. None of that mattered, though, when you looked up, and caught liquid sin gazing at you from wide, red-rimmed eyes. 
(Maybe, he doesn't sleep, either.)
You fed him information through an earpiece as you scoured and decoded the rudimentary messages in the text the enemy sent to each other, and tried to remain professional when his voice growled his affirmative in shades of smoke and violence in your ear. 
Hours later, exhausted and craving something to keep you from wishing the world was constructed by the hand of solipsism, you leaned against the window, desperately trying to pretend you were the same person you were yesterday. 
Lidded eyes swept across the vast expanse in front of you—barren lands, badlands: wartorn and deadly, and littered with carrion. You tried to stop your hands from shaking by curling them into fists, but all it did was puncture your palm, and fill your nails with sticky blood. 
It didn't work— nothing did.
You sunk your teeth into your knuckles to stop the quiver in your joints. 
War is much different in person than it is on a blue screen. Numbers—friends, foes, coordinates, codes—are much easier to stomach when they're all in binary. A marker on your desktop goes down, disappears from the black map in front of you, and you pick up your earpiece, calling it into evac, and click on another to follow, to relay commands in code.
One life is gone, enemy or friend, and you sip your expensive coffee (£5.6 but the logo is cute, and beans are robust) while staring at the pictures dotting the navy blue fabric of the pre-owned cubicle. Docile. Mundane. You glance at the clock, and wait for the hour to pass until you can leave, and spend the rest of the evening watching shows. 
You think once, perhaps thrice, about the men in green who will never get the chance to come home again, but it's smothered when your coworker leans over the metal divider, asking if you want anything from Greggs. 
A game of chess with real people. 
(You slept rather soundly before this. Now, binary numbers make you tremble.)
The worn wood behind you creaks. 
Price, you think, forcing a smile that doesn't fit. Neither do the fatigues. The stench of rot in your nose. The gun they shoved into your hands. 
"I'd kill for a coffee, sir."
When you turn, you're met with the endless yawning of night condensed in circles framed by pale flaxen. A storm in the middle of a wheat field. Stalks of yellow smatter across midnight blue. 
Ghost. 
There is a moment of nothing where he simply tips his chin, baleen lines bunching together, and stares at you. It's unnerving. Eerie. He feels entirely out of place in this world, and yet—
You can't imagine him anywhere else. 
His stare is heavy. He blinks his eyes shut. You breathe again. They slide open. The air is siphoned from your lungs. 
A chasm sits in his gaze. You find the heft isn't entirely unpleasant.
Then, he shifts. Shadows flexing in the limited light. A car driving down the street, headlight burning the tenebrose until it dances, scattering across your room. He moves like liquid in the dark. 
"Coffee won't help," is all he says. Impassive. Pragmatic. But his eyes—
Your throat is acrid. Sand gathers in wet clumps against your larynx. You swallow, and taste Yorkshire Gold. Pennies. 
"Any suggestions about what might, then?"
It takes him two steps to get to the window to your four. His size is—
Immeasurable. 
He's a man, you think, and yet—
It's not so much the sheer bulk of him, the height, but rather the way he carries himself. There is a presence about him that makes him feel bigger, more dangerous. He knows his heft and uses it to his advantage. He takes up space until you feel smothered by his proximity, but—
You don't think anyone else has ever felt more distant. 
A moor. Wide, endlessly deep, but uncrossable. Untraversable. Mouldering signs are pitched in the recesses of his eyes when they slide to you, liquid black pooling in the corner, and they all say: stay away. 
(Written in red. In blood.)
"A few," he offers. His gaze drifts back to the grime-streaked window. "Nothing legal."
"Oh," you mutter, blinking. You can't tell if it's a joke or not. 
"Get some tea. It'll calm your nerves."
"I'm not—," you start but his eyes drop to your hands, clenched by your sides, and shaking. Beads of crimson gather in the cup, pooling in your lifeline. Guilty, then. 
He leaves you by the window, and you watch his broad back retreat through the arched doorway. A layer of sand fluttered under his boots. No prints. 
(Is he even real? Or did the endless dunes of decay conjure him up in grains of sand, and rot?)
You find the stash of tea (Price muttering something behind you about Gaz drinking all the bloody English Breakfast), and in the loose, dried leaves of brown, black, and fawn, you find yourself thinking of him. 
Four years later: he's still on your mind. 
"I was out with—"
"Garrick." 
"Gaz," you say instinctively. Only Laswell gets away with calling him Kyle. Everything else just sounds wrong. "We went to some club in Essex. I would have come home sooner if I'd known—"
You stop. Teeth sinking into your tongue. Stupid. Stupid. You think of the man in the club with hands that were cold as ice. The irritation you felt toward Gaz when he pulled you away, and shoved you into a taxi. His knuckles knocked on the hood. Don't drive away until you see their door shut, yeah? He slips folded bills into the man's hand through the crack in the window. Message me when you get home. 
You sent the text when your key cut through the hole. Home. Thanks. 
His reply was instant: worry about you sometimes. Get some sleep. 
"Um…thank you for the food. I'm actually starving," you huff, words tumbling out in an effort to stem your accidental faux pas. "We didn't eat before we headed out. I only had a few drinks, but—"
More than a few. Your feet wobble. 
"—Thanks." You wince, adding: "again. It's—it's good to see you—"
Stupid. Stupid. 
He says nothing, but his stare hasn't wavered since you opened the door. An indecipherable Rorschach. Unknowable. Unreachable. 
Four years, and you still have no idea what this is. 
Three months in the desert drinking tea with a behemoth who had an absurd sense of humour, and then—
Home. Goodbye. Price waving you off: a two-finger salute diving off his forehead. Ghost stood on the tarmac of some private, military-owned base. A sleek, black Jeep a few paces away to take you wherever you wanted to go. 
Home, you supposed. You look around and it feels wrong. Stuck in limbo, purgatory. A strange microcosm where the people are the same—the man in the Jeep has a thick Northern accent; his words are rounded, and robust—but the place is different.
Know anything to calm the nerves now that we're home, sir? 
His head tips. A few. None of them are good for you. 
The tea was pretty good advice. 
He'd said nothing. Nothing, nothing—
The man poked his head out the window. "Coming?" 
You offered a shaky smile. See you around, Simon—
You'd slapped your palm against your mouth, eyes darting around the barren void in the middle of needn't know and somewhere in England, and he—
He shuddered. Eyes a polynya. A rumble broke the silence. Low, and—
You turned, hand curling over the handle of the car. You'd gotten it open an inch before his hand slammed on the frame beside the window, the door snapping shut. The force of it rocked the Jeep. 
They're riding with me.
And—
Now: he sits in your home with takeout from the Indian place you like, one you mentioned in passing a year ago. The place with the best raita and spicy chicken biryani. 
The one with a shell-shocked teenager manning the front with a single cook in the back. The register is barely used. They yell your order through a small window to the kitchen, and the cook brings it out himself when he's finished. It always feels a little bit illegal when he hands you the bag, but you're almost certain this man is secretly a Micheline star chef when he isn't condensing samsara into his tandoori. 
Silent, a little tipsy, you toe your shoes off, trying not to make any more of a fool of yourself tonight. You stumble a little, head thick with those stupid sex on the beaches Gaz bought for you, and slowly make your way to the couch.
He hasn't looked away. Not once. 
It's stifling. His presence nearly smothers you. 
It usually isn't this— strange.
The handful of times he'd come around, it was always the same routine, the same dance. He'd be there, bathed in black and searching the alcoves of your flat, and then—on you. Your back against the wall, the hello snuffed out by the bulk of his body pressing into yours, his hands on your thighs, fingers tugging at the hem of your clothing. You'd tumble somewhere: the wall or the floor or the couch more often than not. 
(It took him a year to fuck you on your bed.)
The next morning, he'd be gone. Rising before the sun—if he even slept at all—and off somewhere until late at night. He'd stay a few nights, but those were rare. Usually, it was once. 
One night of brutal fucking where he had on you nearly every surface in your flat, taking, and taking until the sky broke crimson, and your eyes misted over from fatigue. He'd drop you in your bed, and when you woke up, sore and dazed and aching all over—
The bed is cold. Empty. 
His presence is erased. The only thing that confirms it wasn't a dream is the burn between your legs, the quiver in your knees, and the bruises along your hips and thighs in the perfect impression of his large hands. 
I wasn't expecting you, you'd once said. 
His eyes are glued to you. Liquid midnight framed in white. Want me to leave, pet?
They dance with humour, hidden in the shadows of his intense stare, when you trip over yourself in your haste to say no. No, no, please—stay. 
Sometimes, you like to pretend those obsidian edges softened a little at the ache in your voice. The palpable urgency bleeds through. That they regard you with a touch more warmth than before. 
"Alright," he says, and nothing more. Alright. 
It's enough. More than enough, really. It's a miracle a man like Simon would even offer that much considering his life, and who he is. It's more than you'd ever ask for. 
And yet—
(In the darkness of your room, you crumble.)
—you want more. 
More. More—
Tumblr media
The butter chicken is warm, and slightly cooled. You glance at him from the corner of your eye. How long had he waited for you? Why did he wait for you? 
You bite the soft, buttered naan to keep yourself from asking those silly questions. 
This whole thing—if it even is a thing—is purely physical. Release. Something to stem the surreal feeling of being back on land where guns aren't being aimed at your head, and artillery fire doesn't clog the atmosphere. The stench of death is replaced by the cold, wet streets of London. The screams of the dying are just honking cars from impatient drivers; the chatter of civilians. 
It's something to quench the inescapable sense of ennui when you leave the building after playing with the lives of the men on the field, and hear mothers chatting in the train about the mundanity of life. 
Anything to calm the nerves. Nothing more. Nothing less. 
And yet: he's sitting on your couch with his mask rolled up to his nose, eating chicken curry while passively watching football on your small television. Your hands brush when you both reach for more naan or roti. Gaze meeting over the Biryani. 
It's different. New. This hasn't ever happened before in the four years since the conception of whatever this is. It's—
Jarring. Bewildering. 
You expect, at some point, for him to stand up, and leave. That intimacy of eating dinner together while he murmurs low about what certain calls, or plays mean to you will break something inside of him, and scare him away. It's soft. Domestic. 
Ghost is untouchable. Unseen. 
But your eyes find the orange sauce smeared on the corner of his mouth. The ashen stubble on his chin, and jaw. The flash of teeth when he brings the dripping piece of curry to his mouth. His jaw working as he chews. The swallow. A flash of red when he tries, and fails, to catch every bit of curry from his lips. 
It's bliss, you find. These small moments when he feels so distinctly human clot in your chest, and you worry that one day the mass will grow to be so big, you will crumble under the weight of it all. 
(Maybe, it's the sex on the beach, the too-sweet rumchata, but the thought makes your stomach burn with anticipation. You want this man to ruin you with the mundane.)
"Finished your dinner?" He asks, eyes sliding to you. 
The meagre food sits like a lump of coal. Your appetite dissolves as your slurried mind struggles to both remain as composed as possible so as not to spook him, and keep all the ugly things you want to say behind the seal of your lips. 
It should just be sex. Fucking. No strings attached. Nothing—
You wonder if it's your life, drenched in a proxy of ordinary, that lures him in. You're not a civilian, but compared to him, you're only a short step above. Is it just—happenstance? Does he come to you because there are no other options for a man who died years ago? 
Are you—
Convenient. 
Something to pass the time. Something that makes him feel human again. 
An evanescent dalliance within the boundaries of having no past, and no future. He isn't jeopardising himself by sneaking into your flat at night to satiate the hunger inside; the need to feel something other than the weight of a gun in his hands, and smell the blood, the smoke, the napalm in the air. 
You work in the same circle. 
He, when he's allowed to exist, on the field; and you, sitting behind a computer screen while you oversee the deaths of others in a sequence of numbers. 
Your hands are too delicate to carry the weight of a gun, to aim and pull the trigger, but he can still feel the same sin when your fingers touch his flesh. 
Not drenched in blood, but stained. 
You're not innocent; he isn't sullying a civilian with his rough hands that reek of gunpowder. 
You exist in that murky limbo he can fall in. Safety lingers in the cartilage of your joints; familiar, and attainable: you know the rules and what he does. You will never look him in the eye and ask why. 
But—you're still dangerous. Covetous. 
More, you think. You want more. 
"I—," you taste malt on your tongue. You didn't drink any, but the taste reminds you of—
Hands on your waist. Warm breath in your ear. Come home with me.
Gaz, suddenly there, eyes blazing. Step off, mate. 
Everton scores: blurs of blue dart across the green, but none of it sticks in the gummy lining of your head. It feels like you're somewhere else. Your body is sitting on the couch; you feel the soft, worn cushion below. The food is heavy on your belly. Eyes grainy from the alcohol you'd drank. 
But you're not here.  
You're adrift in grey matter. Head tilted toward the pink, undulating dome above. Afloat in stagnant molasses. 
"I kissed someone tonight," you murmur. On the screen, a man throws his hands up, words at the bottom blur together. 
The couch creaks when he moves. You can feel his stare on your temple, on you, but you don't meet it. Coward. 
The geyser in the brackish pond rumbles. It tastes of sabotage. 
"I probably would have gone home with them, too, if it wasn't for Gaz."
The roar of the television is the only sound you hear, but it feels distant. Warbled. There is a pounding in your head that starts at the base of your skull. The beat almost sounds like a warning. 
Your hands tighten around the wet plastic cup of the cool salted Lassi. The crinkle it makes drowns out the noise of the cushion shifting under his weight. 
"I guess it's a good thing I came home when I did—"
"Yeah, it is." 
You can't place his tone. Arctic ice. Polar. A Chinook, perhaps. It bites into you, churning the chicken and alcohol in your stomach. 
At least, in the end there would be no questions. No late nights gazing up at the ceiling, or leaning over the sink, peering at yourself in the mirror to make sense of why he picked you. It would just be—
An empty bed. Dinner for one. A single toothbrush in the holder. 
(I bought you a toothbrush. You can leave it in the—
No need. I got my own.)
You huff. "Says you—"
"I'd have ripped him limb from limb for touchin' you." 
His eyes are darker than you'd ever seen them. Black holes. Pooled ink. 
For all your aplomb, your demure under the ire in those alcoves. The ones that leak—impossible—the same covetous spool in your chest. 
"Simon—"
"Where'd he touch you?" 
It's a command.
He reaches out; his palm is blistering when it rests on your bare thigh. 
"Here?"
"Why—?" You shiver. "Why would you tear him—"
Sometimes, you forget how massive he is, but he seems quite eager to remind you when his hand falls on the cushion behind your head, closing that meagre distance between the two of you with his body. He's a shadow looming over you. A gaping chasm that yawns before you. Dangerous and dark. The warning signs are written in blood.
Stay away, they say, but he pushes himself closer to you. 
"I don't share."
"What—what is there to share?" 
His eyes flutter. Hard, unyielding obsidian. In the gaps, sit a near cosmic distance. An unreachable planet on the fringes of the solar system. 
Ashen brows draw together. A cornered animal will lash out, and—
"Thought it was obvious."
You swallow and taste the sea. "It isn't." 
An impasse, then, when he freezes. When his hand burrowing between your thighs halts on your flesh. An uncrossable no man's land. A valley where those who venture seldom return. 
The chossy below your feet wobbles. 
He says nothing. You don't expect him to, but you can't say it hurts any less. 
You knew what you were getting into. What this was. 
Still: 
"Maybe we should stop this."
"That what you want?"
"It's pretty obvious it isn't, and that's the problem. I'm not going to ask for more than you'll give, but—;" a deep breath, a shudder. His thumb brushes your skin, a soft roll of his rough finger, and your heart thrums. Sings. The catch in your voice is thick, palpable. "How can you expect me not to want more?"
"What do you want? Want me to show my face? That it?" His hand raises to the edge of the mask, and something sours inside of you. "If you want to see so—"
Your hand on his wrist stops him from tugging it down. "I don't." Firm, decisive. "I don't want that, Simon. I just want you. And if—;" your eyes flicker to the containers, the half-eaten food on the coffee table. A dinner usually for one. "If you keep doing this—dinner, and—and—"
"I thought you liked butter chicken."
Your chest expands with your exasperated huff. Humour, at a time like this. And yet— "I do. I just meant—"
"I know, pet. I know."
"If you keep this up, I'll want more." You turn to him, hand dropping from his wrist. "I'm greedy. How can I not be when you tell me stupid jokes and bring me curry?"
"I knew you'd like them." 
"Simon—"
Avoidance, then. 
His hand inches down, sliding up your thigh. The loose shorts you'd worn fall to the side, and he slips through until his fingers meet the gusset of your panties.
"You're wet," he husks, leaning down. His forehead pressed to your temple. He smells of turmeric and ash. "That all for me, pet?"
Your thighs spread, giving him more room. His fingers brush along the seam of your clothed cunt. Your chin dips. Charcoal. Midnight black. His lashes are long. The missing coal around his eyes makes them look darker. 
"Always." 
His knuckle presses against your clit, chest brushing over your shoulder. "Better be." 
Lashes flutter when you mewl, arching your back to get more of his touch. Needy, eager. You gasp when his finger crooks inside of your panties, bare skin on your cunt. You’re feverish; burning up from his touch alone. An ache knots in your belly; a spooling coil winding when his knuckle grazes your flesh. His breath is heavy in your ear. 
"C'mon," he murmurs, the tip of his finger drags down the length of your slit. "Haven't had this pussy in months, pet. Need to feel you."
His words made something inside of you snap. 
It's frantic: desperation claws at your chest carrying the urge to sink your teeth in his skin until it punctures with your mark, one that brands his body. The thought alone makes your belly quiver. An ache. A need. An itch. He's there, always: his hands are firm on your waist when you slide into his lap, hips pressing against your core as your fingers tug the buttons of his trousers off. 
Your thighs burn from the stretch of his bulk. The sheer absurdity of how massive he is, and how comparatively small you feel with your knees split apart, is never more apparent than now, when you're barely able to touch the cushion below. 
"Need you," you pant against the skin above the mask. Stubble crests over his cheek, and chaps your lips. "Need you so bad, Simon—"
"Fuck, pet," he breathes, ragged and harsh. His hands are brands on your flesh, pulling you closer, and closer, and yet—at the same time—keeping you at bay. "Would you have been this desperate for him?"
No. Not at all. You haven't been driven to the brink for a man since Simon. No one has ever burrowed deep under your skin until you were itching at the dermis so hard, it broke. It ripped. And the bloodied tatters that remained still weren't enough to quench the burn.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" 
His snarl is muffled behind the mask, but you feel the bite of it when his hands clench around your hips, jerking you forward until your cunt is nestled on his hard bulge. 
"Gonna fuck you, now." 
The words are ground down to the marrow; stripped and pulverised into dust when they slip through. Broken bones, fragmented ash—he blows the smoke of them into your face until you're reeling from the way they shred your throat and lungs when you breathe them in. 
There is no finesse in the way you tug your panties off, letting them dangle around your ankle. Or the way he shoves his boxers down enough to free his cock. 
It's quick. Dirty. 
Simon has been rough in the past—often leaving you feeling like the victor of a well-fought war—but that always came after what felt like hours of foreplay. His face buried in your cunt. His fingers slowly stretching you for his cock. 
This—
This feels desperate. It feels unhinged and raw. All his meticulous self-control catches fire in front of you until your skin blisters with the heat of it.
His fingers slip under the mask for a moment, and when he carefully pulls them free, they're covered in spittle. 
No lube, no prep—
His thick fingers are on your cunt, slick and wet from his saliva, and they sink inside of you. One right to the last knuckle. Another joins. The stretch makes your toes curl. Makes you drop your head to his shoulder as he works in the third. The lewd sounds of your pussy being hurriedly fucked open by his fingers, palm digging into your clit, makes you burn. 
It's not enough, but you look down and feel desire bloom at the sight of him—his cock is leaking prespend all over your mound, jerking against your belly with each quick thrust of his fingers within you. He pulls his hand away, and smears the wetness across his cock before gripping the base. 
Your eyes are fixed on the pearlescent beads on the fat head, gathering in a thick, milky pool before rolling down the side. It gathers at the clinch of hi thumb and forefinger. Your mouth waters at the sight. 
"Lemme suck your cock after," you slur; it comes out as barely more than a whimper. "Need to taste you—"
His cock jerks in his hold, spitting more prespend down the length of him. 
"Fuckin' hell, pretty thing," he rasps, dragging your hips closer until your cunt is pressed taut against him. The drag of his flared head between your folds makes you keen low in your throat. "You won't even get a chance, pet. If you think I'm pulling out of this tight pussy at all tonight, you're wrong."
It's not a warning, but it's all he gives before his hand grips himself tight, the other clasped around your waist. His urgency bleeds through when his hips lift off the bed. 
It's always an arduous undertaking whenever he sits you in his lap, and slowly feeds the entirety of his thick cock into your quivering body. Sometimes, nearly driven delirious from the intense pleasure-pain that pools in your core, you whisper into his ear that he's going to ruin you, break you down the centre. 
You'll snap me in half, you whimper. 
His response is to force more of himself into your body until you gag on the words in your throat, choke on your spit. 
"I want to," he hisses; water doused on flaming coal. The grit of his voice is saturated in sin, and the sound makes your eyes roll. "Wanna break you open until nothin' fits inside this pretty cunt but me."
"You'd ruin me for everyone else, Simon? That's not fair—" 
Your words make him groan, make him grasp your hips, fingers digging into the swell of your ass. He pulls you down onto him until he's swallowed whole. The air is punched from your lungs. You feel the throb of him in your esophagus. Broken, then, by this man. This untouchable, unattainable being. 
"Fuck—," little hiccups spill from your throat. Your head is a slurry of want want want want and too much too full too big. You can't take him. You needed more foreplay. To be stretched around three fingers until you could fit him soundly. 
This—
This feels a little bit like a punishment. 
"Fuckin' hell," he rasps into your neck. "Wouldn't know what to do with this little cunt if he had it." 
"And you do?"
His answer is to plant his feet on the ground and drive the length of him into you. A battering ram to your core. There is a white-hot pleasure burning through your core. It leaks into your marrow until you're heavy with the weight of it. 
He helps you along. Hands gripped tight to your hips, he lifts you up off of his cock, and lowers you down with a fervour that leaves you quaking. 
It's not so much as riding him, but being battered by a hurricane. All you can do is cling to him—arms wrapped tight around his neck, thighs shaking as you struggle to keep up with his brutal pace. Your forehead falls, rests against his shoulder, and you moan brokenly into the seam between your bodies.
It feels a little bit like possession. The flavour of a claim, ownership lingers in the air; it's heavy on your tongue, in your chest. But he's not the type of man to do that, is he? Distance. Separation.
Something like that is far too intimate for a man who shouldn't exist. 
Even so—
Each blunt grind of his cock inside of you has milky pleasure blooming inside of you. His hard grip is tight enough to bruise, and when he digs his fingers into your flesh, you wonder if it's intentional. If he wants you stained and broken by the time he's finished. 
No condom, either. It's rare that you go without one, despite being on birth control. He'd only ever lost it enough to forgo the contraceptive when he was injured, when his hand would press to his side each time he moved. The mask covered it up, but you saw the red in his eyes when he shifted. 
You took advantage of his weakened state—lemme take care of you, Simon—and finally (finally) got a taste of his cock. His hips rutted into your mouth, and the noises that spilled out of him were obscene. You swallowed every drop while he heaved on the couch, forearm thrown across his forehead, eyes wide and red and looking at you in a way that made your toes curl. It was—
Magma. Melted rock. Soft, molten, and—
He passed out after. You cleaned up while he slept. It was the first time you'd ever seen him slumber, but despite the itch to look, to see, you kept your distance. A throw was tossed on him gently, a bottle of water left on the coffee table. You grabbed a book from the shelf, curled up on the chaise near the window, and watched the lour gloom of London under a deluge. 
(London, you find, is always prettier when it storms.)
He woke up hours later to the smell of lamb soup. 
His voice was a husk: a charred log. He pulled you down on the couch with him, back pressed to his front, and he'd taken you then. His arm draped over your collarbones, forearm tucked under your chin; his other hand gripped your thigh, keeping you open for him as he rutted inside of you. Delirious, perhaps, from the pain. From the uncomfortable, dangerous, vulnerability he showed you. It didn't feel distant when he pulled you into him, eyes murky bogs in the middle of a barren forest. It felt—
Stripped. Raw and naked and somehow virginal despite the heavy pants of pleasure in your ear, muffled by the mask that had not moved at all since his head dropped on the armrest behind, and he woke up to a porcelain bowl of cawl on the table. 
The bare grind of his cock inside of you should negate the purity in the act but somehow, somehow, it feels more innocent than anything else you'd experienced before. 
He came inside of you, a wrecked groan reverberating in your ear as he squeezed you tight to his body, and made you take every drop. 
No words were exchanged. You ate cawl on the couch and tried to pretend you didn't see the hungry look in his eyes when you caught his gaze on the pearlescent smear staining your thighs. 
(Each time after that, he wore a condom.)
Until now.
You can feel him pulsing in your throat. It feels more intimate—hurried and rushed as it: your thighs spread over his, his cock buried deep inside you, chest pressed against yours. There is nowhere for you to turn, to hide, except to burrow your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the ozone scent of him. Gunpowder. Pyrolysis. Sulphur. Smoke. It sits heavy in your lungs. 
"F—fuck, Simon," you mewl, fingers clawing at the fabric of his sweater. You need something to hold on to, to keep you grounded amid the battering of his hips. 
"Yeah, pet," he breathes, his hands gripping you tighter as he ruts into you. His cock grinds against something inside of you that has you seeing white. "You like that don't you? Like my cock inside of you. You're desperate for it, aren't you?"
There is no room for words in your esophagus when you can feel the blunt press of his head bludgeoning into your sternum. All you can do is work yourself against the brutal onslaught of him driving his hips, his cock, into you from below. There is no stability for you to find purchase, and give back just as much as you take, but Simon doesn't seem to want that. Not right now. 
He fucks into you, barely able to pull the full length of him out of your drenched pussy, and seems find pleasure in grinding against your core in deep, short strokes that leave you chasing Ursa Major in the Magellanic cloud that spools in your head. 
Each thrust leaves you trembling, legs quaking as he knocks against a place inside that makes your back arch; making liquid euphoria brim in your veins.
Fucking Simon with an abundance of prep rides that perfect equilibrium of pleasure and pain. This—
This feels like it might wreck you. Your cunt is stretched wide around the base of him, pulled taut as he digs his heels into your worn, stained carpet and drives himself into you like he's trying to split you in half, and take refuge in your womb. 
The sounds that spill out, filling the room, make you feel like you're floating. From the seal of your sopping pussy and the lewd squelch of him sliding against your walls; the deep, ruined moans that drip from your mouth; the deep, hoarse groans he makes that has your belly quivering—it has your fingers digging into his shoulders, clenched around tense muscles. 
"Fuckin' hell—," his head tips back when your knee slips, bringing your pelvis closer to his groin. "This cunt was made for me, wasn't it? All mine—"
Stubble grazes your nose when you press your lips to the silver of skin exposed on his jugular. Teeth catch on the coarse hair, skin drawn between them. Capillaries burst under your tongue, flooding his flesh a bright red, then a deep purple. The perfect impression of your teeth—
"Fuck—!" He snarls, hands pulling you closer to him as he jerks within you. 
Simon knocks the thoughts from your head when he spears his cock inside of you. It's rough, raw. The pain that blooms in your core when he chevies into the seal of your womb as you see a supernova behind your eyelids. The explosion of energy. Each synapse inside of your head buzzes with the force of it. 
"C'mon, pretty thing," he husks; the roar of the ocean upwelling on the land. You taste salt on your tongue when you pant, moaning his name into his sweat-slicked neck. He tastes of iodine. "I want you to cum on my cock, pet. I need to feel your cunt squeeze me tight—"
It pulls on the thread keeping the deluge from spilling over. The seams split; the levee cracks. It wells inside of your core, each plunge pushing you further and further to the edge of that roaring precipice. Standing on the ledge of a cliff, eyes pointed down at the black water that slams against the granite, frothing and angry. It sprays mist from the vitriolic sea. Arsenic white. It crests over you. His grunt in your ear. His hands tighten until you feel bruises bloom under the tips of his fingers. The chossy cracks. The rocks tumble. Your feet slip—
It's familiar, this. Everything about him makes you feel like you're falling, and this—this—is no different. A leap. A drop. Your feet hit the water first. 
It happens all at once; crashing over you like a rogue wave. Swallowed whole. Sucked under. 
Knees scrape the murky sediment below. You babble in his neck about how good his cock feels inside of you; hiccuping stupidly at the absurd stretch of him, how big he is, and—shyly, tentatively—how much you missed this, missing feeling him inside of you, tasting him on your tongue. 
It punches a snarl from his throat; ripped and raw on the barbed wire lining his jugular. It drips blood when he bites into it, fingers cutting into your skin to stem the ache in his voice from leaking out.
(Things are only real when whispered out loud.)
He pulses inside of you, head tilts back as he groans with his release. 
These soft moments nearly ruin you: when his hands clench around your waist, paroxysms of pleasure hard enough to bruise; his chest expanding with his deep breaths, brushing yours with each inhale; the heat spuming inside of you. The noises he makes. The way his brow pinches together when he cums. 
Your eyes fall on the column of his neck, tracing a bead of sweat slipping down from the humid mask, over the bluish mark you left on his skin, to where it pools in the indent of his collarbone. His throat bobs. You watch it all. 
He's never more real than in these moments, you find. 
You think of object permanence, and sink your teeth into the raw ring around his neck. 
Simon shudders under you. "Fuckin' hell, pet—;" is a gravel-rucked rasp from his chest. He swallows again. "You tryin' to go for the jugular next?"
He doesn't wait for an answer. His arms tighten around you, locking you to his chest. You throb around the softening length of him, pulsing like a heartbeat. Brassbound bliss is thick around your neck; heavy iron pulling you down. 
The cosmos spits you out, and gravity drags you home until you're centred; surrounded by the scent of sweat, sex, and the cloying tang of Simon—warm milk, wet nickles, and clove. Your nose brushes the hem of his mask, and you catch the frenetic headiness of Ghost. Warzone. Gunpowder. Ichor. Your tongue flicks out, catches the sulphur on his skin. 
You feel his feet shift, his thigh flex. 
Hold on tight, pet. It's the only warning you get before his hands curl under your knees, locking you to his chest, and he stands. 
The power in his muscles is dizzying, intoxicating. He hefts you into his arms with an ease that makes your head swim. All the liquid inside shifts as he moves. A vertiginous wave washes over you. 
You feel so small in his arms. So fragile, breakable. He holds you tight to his chest, hands ironclad on your thighs, and huffs when you giggle in his ear about how strong he is. How big and tough, and powerful Ghost is. 
"Ghost ain't the one still buried deep inside of you, pet." He mutters into your temple, words slurred, hushed. They're almost drowned out by the cheers spilling from the speakers, and you wonder if he even meant for you to hear them. 
You duck your head, nuzzling your nose into his throat. "M'tired. Take me to bed, Simon."
"Gladly."
It's a short walk from your living room to your bedroom, and he knocks the door open with the flat of his foot. He takes a moment before stepping through the threshold, eyes darting around your bedroom briefly. Hyper-vigilant. Always. This never changes even if he's in your flat or walking into the communal kitchen a whole sea away. 
It takes him two steps to reach your bed. He doesn't bother with the lights. 
He lays you on the cold bed, hovering over you with eyes like Orion. You think you find Betelgeuse in the far reaches of those unfathomable depths. 
"You're pretty," you slur, stupidly, dizzily. You're not drunk—not really —but you're intoxicated by this, by him. His scent in your nose, his taste on your tongue, his weight pushing you down into the soft sheets—his cock inside of you still, twitching when you speak. It makes you giggle—robust and bubbly—and babble about the stars in his eyes, and heaven in his touch. "Your eyes are so—"
He huffs, those pretty eyes rolling at you. "Haven't even seen me without the mask, pet—"
"Don't care." 
"No? What if I was ugly?"
"Doesn't matter." 
"Scarred up?" 
You shrug. 
Another huff, deeper this time. His head drops, forehead pressing against your temple. You can feel the vibration through your bones when he rests his chest on yours, and murmurs your name low. Ashes and embers. Smoke is thick in your nose. 
"You're clingy when you're drunk."
"Says the one who hasn't let go of me since I sat on your cock—"
His hips grind against yours, and the cheeky tone dies off in a whimper. 
"That's what I thought."
"No fair," you pant, arching your back under him. Your legs tighten around his waist. "You can't just abuse me with your dick to shut me up. You know it's my weakness."
"If it works…"
"You're a terrible man."
"Never said I wasn't, and anyone who says otherwise is lying."
Your hands slide up his shoulders, and you feel something sour twist inside of you when he tenses as you glide over his bare skin. Your nails graze his scalp, fingers threading through his moussed locks. He shudders at your touch. 
"Guess I'm a liar, then," you fit your cheek against his, murmuring in his ear. Quiet, low. The ghost of a whisper. 
His voice is tight when he speaks. Airy, light. It's as soft as you'd ever heard him. "Guess so, pet."
His arms tighten around you, holding you just a little bit closer. It's almost cruel how he holds you close to his chest like this. Like you're something to be protected, to be shielded. 
(Humans are greedy things by nature. 
How can he expect you not to want when he gives you moments like these to cling to?)
Tumblr media
He doesn't stay long. Two nights watching football on your couch, drinking tea, and feigning obliviousness to the crack in the foundation that lingers between you. The intimacy is startlingly easy to fall into; he sleeps (really sleeps; his eyes closed, soft snores spilling out from behind the mask), relaxes around you in a way that makes you distinctly aware, now, of how tense he was before. 
(And yet—he still came.)
There is no confession to be had over cawl or the roast dinner you make before he leaves, leftovers tucked inside his backpack when he isn't looking, left there for whatever endeavour he was going on next. You can't imagine they have many homemade meals. 
You don't even really know what he wants from this, what he expects, except that it's happening. He's here, and that—
That's enough. 
You're greedy, always will be, but there's a dissonance inside of your chest, balmed by the tinge of green in those obsidian depths when you spoke of going home with another man. The acrid taste of his ire feels more poignant than any words could offer. 
A man of action. 
(And action comes often in his life.)
He calls you—for the first time in four years, somewhere overseas—and the sound of his voice in your ear has you grinning stupidly in the solitude of your bedroom. 
"Did I wake you?"
"Wasn't sleeping." 
It's quiet. Through the static, you can almost make out the chitter of insects native to whichever place they called him to. You think about filling in the gap, but there is a breath. A shift. Then: "me, too. Wondered what you were up to." 
"Wouldn't you like to know."
"Pet—"
"Thinking of you." 
Silence again. His breath is white noise on the line. "I'll be—;" he pauses, inhaling once more: "—back soon. No promises."
"No, never," you smile. "Bring me a souvenir."
"All I have are heads, pet."
"How romantic."
"Never been much of one."
"I guess I could redecorate. Macabre-chic. " 
He huffs. You wonder if it's a chuckle. "Would start to smell, wouldn't it?"
"Not much worse than you after a mission, surely."
"You—"
"Kinda miss it, though." 
He says nothing. You catch the grainy inhale. The forceful exhale. 
"Not much to miss."
"There's lots."
"There ain't." 
"If you say so. Still do, though." You let it sit for a moment; a tender glimmer of raw vulnerability—the flavour he runs from. It brims. Your mother taught you that it was best to let things simmer. "It's been raining like crazy in London. Kinda reminds me of Wales."
"What do you call a sheep tied to a fence in Wales?"
"Do I want to know?"
"A leisure centre."
You nip your chuckle at the root, feigning exasperation instead. "You can do better than that."
"What do you call a soldier that survived mustard gas and pepper spray?"
"What?"
"A seasoned veteran."
Your huff trails off into silence. It's palpable, thick, but it isn't uncomfortable. It reminds you of the softness of night when you're supposed to be quiet. When you tiptoe around with a gingerness to avoid a raucous. Anything over a certain decibel is off-limits. It's not a rule. It isn't written down. But you follow it, anyway. 
In that gloam when the sun sets over the horizon, and night settles like a blanket, you whisper:
Make sure those heads come home safe.
The sheets rustle. Something in the distance shatters.
He sucks in a breath. "I should go, pet."
It's as much of a promise as he'll ever make. 
Tumblr media
In the sticky gossamer of sleep, you feel something brush over your temple. A soft smear of warmth; transient and fleeting. The fluttering wings of a magpie. 
It leaves before you can sink into its weight.
When you wake the next morning, the room smells of rust and gunpowder. 
(No heads, but you find a whittled sheep on the pillow beside you.)
Tumblr media
You open the cupboard above the vanity, reach for your toothbrush, and—
Oh. 
A slow, soft smile crests over your lips, cheeks flushing under the jaundiced light. 
Inside the solitary holder, another brush has taken residence beside yours. You stare at the two brushes in the rusting cup, heart thudding in your chest. 
2K notes ¡ View notes
bedoballoons ¡ 2 months
Note
hii !! i was wondering if you could do a request for me. so xiao's really stressed and reader character: xiao scenario: calls him multiple times but he doesnt come, so when he actually comes, he complains and makes the reader cry and leave him. genre: angst (if you can, can you add fluff in the end where xiao apologizes? its fine if you dont !!) i was craving for some angst and at the end some fluff because i need more fluff i swear im going insane because of angst its fine if you dont do this, but if you do, i would really appreciate it !!
Of course I can write a request for you!! I won't lie though...I thought this was a smut request at first 😭 forgive my dirty mind. Anyway, thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy!
─⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️
Tumblr media
Xiao X Reader
{ŕźť~You didn't show up...~ŕźş}
CW: GN! Reader! Angst to fluff, some yelling and a worried reader, apologies at the end!
Tumblr media
𑁍༄Xiao:
You sighed anxiously, looking at the clock...you'd already called three times and Xiao was still no where to be seen. You knew he was probably busy, but he'd always said he'd answer your call...just say his name and he'd appear...so why wasn't he? You tried not to think the worst...but considering he was the last remaining Yaksha, the rest all dying in such horrible ways...it wasn't hard to start worrying about him.
What if his karmic debt had caught up to him? What if he'd met a foe even he couldn't beat? What if he'd been injured badly...and couldn't make it to you?
You bit your lip, feeling your heart start to race with fear, what would you even do? Go to Zhongli? The other adeptus?? Panick began to set in, his name slipping from your lips over and over, "Xiaooo! Xiao!" He had to answer, if he didn't you'd have to go find someone and ask for help...that was the plan, "Xia-"
You paused mid sentence as he suddenly appeared in front of you, the soft teal glow of his powers fading away to reveal that he was okay and in truth, it was like seeing a angel, relief washing over you in waves. "Oh my gosh, there you are I was so worried, I thought youd-"
"Enough. Stop calling me, you aren't in danger, there's no one attacking you and I'm tired of hearing your insistent voice in my head. I'm trying to protect Liyue as I'm supposed to, accomplish what I must everyday and I don't need you bothering me while I do so." He shot you a glare...and watched as the emotions painted on your features went dark, your relieved smile wiped away. He knew it was harsh, he knew what he said was wrong...he loved your voice, he loved knowing he had someone at home...hoping he was okay...worrying about him. Hed, just gotten a little too stressed.
"I-im sorry...I was worried something had happened to you...I'm sorry." You felt your chest getting tighter as you tried to hold back your tears, but they fell anyway...rolling down your cheeks as Xiao watched you...guilt already bubbling in his stomach. "Wait...I didn't mean to-"
You stepped away from him, wishing you hadn't been such a nuisance...and before you knew it, you were running, out the door...across the fields. Running until you felt tired...and alone enough to cry in peace, or so you thought. Somehow you'd forgotten he could simply appear next to you, you could run as far as you'd like and he'd be there in seconds...even when you didn't want him to.
"Xiao, I'm sor-"
"Don't apologize when you have nothing to apologize for. You were just worried and I overreacted...I should never have raised my voice at you, talked to you the way that I did. I'm sorry. It will never happen again."
Tumblr media
ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day!~*⁠.⁠✧
152 notes ¡ View notes
mydearlybeloathed ¡ 4 months
Note
I loved your fic where the reader is Sanji's little sister!! I could do more of this but with something more angst? (I'm crazy about angst, forgive me 😭😭😭)
𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍
Tumblr media
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you would have thought your birthday would keep zeff and sanji from bickering—well, you thought wrong.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sanji x littlesister!reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: pre-opla, reader is sixteen atm, swearing, reader is at the end of her rope
𝐚/𝐧: you're forgiven anon i also enjoy my fair share of angst 🥰
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Turning sixteen had never been so awful for anyone in the entire world. You felt for certain of that.
The water of the sea lapped at your bare feet, dangling off the docks of the Baratie. Silence sat over everything, the moon hung high above you. You kicked at the water, angry at it for some reason, and scoffed at the face of the world.
You swore that if you listened hard enough, you could still hear Sanji and Zeff fighting all the way in the kitchens. The sound of their shouting had driven you out here into the fresh sea air, but it hardly helped the frustration welling up in your gut.
When you heard the footsteps coming up behind you, half of you hoped it was Sanji, coming to apologize and wish you a happy fucking birthday. 
You peered over your shoulder to find Patty looming over you, a plate in hand. “Hey, kid.”
“Hi,” you murmured, slouching back over as he knelt down beside you. 
You glanced over as he set the plate beside you, grinning a bit at the slice of cake. “How’s the birthday?”
Scoffing, you said, “Shitty. Per usual.”
Patty pursed his lips, sighing out his frustration, cursing the two idiots who’d driven you out here on your birthday. Still, he looked out at the sea, and told you, “He’s looking for you.”
“I’m sure he is.”
“Zeff is too.”
“They took a break from their precious bickering?” You couldn’t help but roll you eyes. “I’m frickin’ honored.”
The chef nudged your shoulder before rising to his feet. “Come on. It’s getting cold.”
You hugged your legs, having no intention of moving. “I’ll freeze.”
“Aww, don’t go all moody teen on me.” Patty half grinned. “I’m barely surviving Sanji.”
Turning your face away from him, you fought down the tears welling up in your eyes. “Go away, Patty.”
The longest moment past, before his footsteps retreated back into the Baratie, and you were left alone. Another birthday down the drain. And all you’d wanted was to spend time with your little family.
જ⁀➴
Patty walked back into the kitchen, brows taut and frown evident. He threw open the doors and glared at the young blond boy who whipped around.
“We’re not rea—”
“Your plan didn’t work,” Patty snapped. “She’s pissed.”
Zeff appeared from around the corner. “So she’s not coming?”
Patty deadpanned, somehow fighting the urge to slap him, if only because Zeff was his boss. “No. She’s not coming.”
Sanji and Zeff turned to each other, each donning an expression of awkward guilt. Sanji sighed. “We messed up.”
“No kiddin’,” Zeff scoffed.
And Patty rolled his eyes, moving to finish setting up this little party. “I’ll finish up.” He glared over at Sanji. “You go fix this.”
“Why me?” Sanji had the nerve to ask. 
“She’s your kid sister!” Patty gritted out. “And this was your bright idea! Let’s start fighting even though we know it makes her sad so we’ll have time to throw a surprise! Yeah, great idea. Now she’s wallowin’ on the docks.”
Your brother’s face fell, the image painted for him flashing across his eyes, and he hated it. This was a bad idea, after all. He’d just wanted to surprise you, but you were too quick for that these days. Sanji thought it’d be fine… “Shit.”
He was halfway through throwing off his apron when Zeff dropped everything and beat him to it. He set a heavy hand on Sanji’s shoulder and shoved him back toward the half decorated cake. “I’ll handle it. Just don’t fuck up the cake with yer shaky hands.”
Sanji stumbled into the counter, eyes narrowed, but he didn’t bother arguing. So Zeff trudged out of the kitchen, face sullen, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to console a teenage girl.
He’d figure it out, he hoped. He was a pirate after all, and pirates don't get scared. Then he stepped out into the midnight air and spotted you swinging your legs off the dock.
Pirates don’t get scared. Except, maybe, of their upset daughters.
You heard him before you saw him, tensing up as the sound of Zeff’s peg leg hobbling up behind you. You didn’t say a word and stared out at the crisp black waters, not knowing why he even bothered as he plopped himself down beside you, moving your untouched plate of cake to the space behind you.
“Hey, Pip,” he started, testing the waters.
“‘Sup.” You were irritated, that’s for sure, but not completely shut off. If you wanted him to go, you’d have said so already, or punched him or jumped into the water or something like that. Zeff didn’t pretend to understand youth these days. Typically, your silence was a good sign.
If Zeff knew you at all, and he ought to after all these years, he’d wager you didn’t want to be alone at all.
His peg leg kicked up some water, disturbing the peace. “You cold?”
It was the warmest night the sea had seen in some time, and he expected you to snap back that it was a stupid question. But you just shifted away and muttered, “Nope.”
Maybe you weren’t as open to talking as he’d thought.
“Listen,” he huffed. “I’m sorry. We both are. It’s just, you know how he gets…”
Your sudden glare shut him up, the set in your jaw a tad bit worrying. “I know how he gets, Zeff. But I still wouldn’t throw a pan at him on your birthday.”
Touche. 
Zeff grimaced. Maybe he overdid it a bit. “Yeah, I’m sorry ‘bout that.”
“Whatever.” You started to tug at your hair, and Zeff noticed how you’d ditched the ol’ pigtail braids. Now, your hair was pulled back into a single braid a bit on the messy side. There was a white ribbon tying it off. 
His stare turned an odd sort of soft, one you didn’t catch often. You glanced up at him quickly, unnerved. “What?”
Zeff didn’t answer right away, choosing to instead take a breath and savor this moment. But you grew impatient, eyes narrow. “What is it, Zeff? Have I got somethin’ on my face?”
Oh, how to explain. How was Zeff to explain just what he thought of you?
You’d surely grown from the little demon who’d bitten him and left a nasty scar on his arm—grown into not so much a demon, but a woman with just the same fire. On odd days he longed for the times when you were small and thought the world of him. When you would come to him for anything and everything. 
When you slipped up and called him “Dad.”
That never happened anymore. You were careful now.
You were growing too fast. If he could hide how awful the world was from you, he would, but it was too late. You were giving up on learning the ways of a chef and instead leaning toward waiting tables, learning to pickpocket like a seasoned criminal when you thought no one was watching. And with every passing day Zeff could see that starvation for something more grow brighter and brighter.
Sometimes he wondered if allowing you to work in his restaurant had been a mistake—he had a rule against women working in such a dangerous establishment as his could be, after all—but you were long past the age of listening to a word Zeff had to say. You and Sanji were alike in that manner.
Zeff shook his head. How did he explain how he had thought he’d been so strong until the day you’d come red faced to him, no older than nine, with just a skinned knee. You weren’t crying, not ever letting a tear fall, but you wanted to, he saw it in your eyes. 
The former captain of the Cook Pirates had felt so strong until he had no clue how to fix what was wrong. 
Zeff hated kids. He hated them, but you and that eggplant of a boy had become exceptions. The pair of you, as frustrating as you could be, had weaseled your way into the old man’s heart. He thinks he’d do just about anything for you, specifically.
How could Zeff begin to explain how much it scared him that his daughter was getting older?
“Zeff?”
“Sorry,” he said. “Got lost a bit.”
You lowered your gaze and shifted, reaching behind you to pick up the cake. There was a singular bite taken out of it. You messed around with the fork. “Patty made this?”
Zeff nodded. “Think so.”
“It’s good. You could do better,” you grinned, setting the plate back down. You’d finish it off later; you never dared to waste food. 
“Yeah?” Zeff chuckled. “Probably.”
You kicked at the water again. “I haven’t decided if I forgive you yet.”
“As expected. Just don’t take too long.” After a moment of thought, and an observation at how you returned to your surly demeanor, he made a decision. “We’ve got somewhere to be.” Zeff turned away the moment you whipped your head around to give him that curious look of yours. 
“What do you mean?” you asked, skeptical.
“Can’t say. It’s a surprise.” He rolled his eyes. “Sanji’s been insistent on a surprise for days. You’re too nosey to keep secrets from, so we needed to get you out of the kitchen…”
He waited for the realization to sink in, and then you were punching his arm with a gasp. “No way! No way you were faking! You’re the worst!” You couldn’t decide between being angry or amused, letting out a laughing scoff at their complete idiocy. “I was about to cry, you bastards!”
Zeff couldn’t help it. He laughed—no, cackled whilst he gently blocked your tiny fist. “Language, Pipsqueak.”
You raised your middle finger and fought hard to hide your growing smile. “I don’t believe you. You’re just covering for yourselves. That fight was real.”
“Or we’re just that skilled at actin’,” he countered. He did admit that after a minute the argument was more real than not. “It was his idea.”
“Zeff.”
“We meant well.” He rerouted his defense. “He’s been going on and on ‘bout this surprise—”
“That you’ve now spoiled.”
“I had to! I wasn’t gonna deal with his moping when you never showed.” You started to protest, making him scoff. “You weren’t gonna show. You’re stubborn.”
You huffed, lunging over to scoop up the sea and splash it in Zeff’s face. The old man sputtered before he reached out a hand and pushed you into the water with barely a shove. You squealed and sank under the water, coming up gasping as thinly veiled hilarity broke past your anger.
Flapping around in the water, you gaped up at Zeff as he wheezed, barely able to get enough air through his laughter. Your own laugh bubbled out of you. “What the fuck, Zeff?”
“You–you started it!” He was still catching his breath, eyes crinkled. “Didn’t mean to push you in.”
Like you believed him. Rolling your eyes, you held out a hand and awaited your rescue. The old man stood to his mismatched feet and gripped your wrist, hoisting you up. You were airborne for at least three seconds with the momentum of his pull, giggling as your feet touched the dock again. 
“I should tell Sanji you ratted him out,” you mused as the night air hit you, shivers running up and down your spine. 
“You won’t,” he said, though there was a slight hope in his eyes that you really were bluffing. You were, of course. As much as you fought with Sanji, you would never dare to ruin his fun—and if planning a surprise for you was fun for him, so be it.
“I won’t,” you agreed. “But I should.”
You started back into the Baratie, crossing your arms tightly to condense what was left of your body heat. Zeff fell into step beside you, his chef’s coat draped over your shoulders not a second later. Stepping inside wasn’t an escape from the cold; if anything, the chill grew worse. 
As much as you hated being cold… you were curious as to what Sanji had cooked up. 
So you braved the frigid walk through the empty dining room, weaving in and out of tables and chairs, and rushed ahead of Zeff to enter the kitchen first. You gave the doors a shove and came face to face with a platoon of balloons bobbing around the ceiling. 
Little purple flowers poked out of various crystal glasses. A sweet smell filled the room. You froze in the doorway, taking it all in, and noticed Sanji at the counter, finishing off the icing on a small cake. He glanced up and blew his hair out of his face, a smile splitting onto his face when he saw you.
“Pip!” His eyes ran you up and down, confusion clouding his blue eyed gaze. “What happened to you?”
You let out a huff and slipped your arms into the too big coat. “Went for a swim.”
Zeff chuckled suspiciously and swept toward the cake, inspecting it briefly. “Just like I said. The icing’s uneven.”
Sanji threw down the icing. “It is—”
“Stop!” you shouted. “I swear.”
That shut them up, each of them rolling their eyes. Children, you thought. Taking another look around, a little smile grew on your face. “Is it someone’s birthday?”
For a moment, Sanji’s confidence faltered, as if he was really questioning what day it was, before he caught your sly grin and relaxed. “Only yours, so I really don’t know why I bothered with all this.”
“Ouch,” you laughed. The kitchen was empty save for you, Zeff, and Sanji. It reminded you of quiet nights similar to this one, back when the Baratie was in its early years. Back when Zeff and Sanji didn’t fight as much as they did now. 
In the gentle quiet to follow, you did admit: growing older wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. 
You blinked and Zeff had lit a candle and poked it into the top of the cake, causing Sanji to grumble at how he’d messed up the swirl design he’d crafted. Zeff ignored him and bumped your shoulder. “Too old to make a wish?”
“As if.” You were almost offended he’d asked, leaning forward to blow out the candles, squeezing closed your eyes and uttering a wish in your head. When you were done, Sanji gave you a questioning look.
“So? What was it?”
Every year he asked, and every year you shook your head. “Can’t say. It’ll break the magic.”
The night grew old, as night always does, and it aged with laughter and thrown icing and sleepy eyes, before it died to make way for the sun. And by then, you and Sanji were passed out on piles of flour sacks, side by side and snoring in tune. 
The Baratie was to open in five hours. In one hour, the chefs would file in to prepare for the breakfast run. For now, though, there was peace as Zeff pulled up a stool to the countertop and observed the pair with increasing, sickening fondness. 
The plan had never been to raise two of the possibly most difficult children on the seas… but now that you weren’t children anymore, there was a significant amount of pride welling up in Zeff’s chest.
He knew neither of you were destined to remain at the Baratie all your lives. To keep you there was to imprison you. Someday, you and Sanji would leave this place, and Zeff could only hope it wouldn’t be tomorrow as each day came to a close. 
And someday, a year down the road, his hope would be in vain as the next morning your annual birthday wish was granted in the form of a grand ship with the masthead of a goat—the ship that would sail you and Sanji away. 
But that was a year away, and no one knew of what fate had in store. You only knew that maybe turning sixteen wasn’t so bad.
Tumblr media
325 notes ¡ View notes
jkabbi ¡ 2 months
Text
bewitched | 01
Tumblr media
╰┈➤summary: Former neighbors turned lovers, your enchanting romance with Jungkook takes a magical turn. A spell to protect him shapes your past, and now, as a flower shop owner, an unexpected reunion brings buried secrets to light. Past and present collide in a captivating tale of love and mystery.
╰┈➤pairing: jungkook x reader (f)
╰┈➤genre: cf2l, fluff, angst, magic au
╰┈➤warnings: just cursing and salem being a menance. also, jungkook hot ass back
word count. 8.4k
╰┈➤note; hi! this is my first fanfic and i was very nervous about publishing it. i had this idea for a while and i need it to share it. the fic has some touches of my favorite series (sabrina the teenage witch) but the plot is different and the characters (apart from salem).
alsoo, english isn’t my first language so writing this was a challenge but i hope its okay ;)
and thats all, i really wish u enjoy it and please be nice, this is my first time and im scared😭😭
next.
Tumblr media
series masterlist
Tumblr media
You consistently gravitated towards a wardrobe painted in familiar tones and patterns – greens, browns, blues, and yellows – with a penchant for clothing adorned by botanical or floral designs.
Yoongi used to make fun of you for it, although there was never a day that he didn't tell you that you looked good.
It was difficult to explain but your affinity for the colors could only be explained by your abilities.
Since you were little, you used to spend days in the sun in the grass, surrounded by trees and grasslands.
You loved playing with the butterflies that flew around or watching the birds that sang and flew freely. You used to talk to the fish that swam through the rivers or to the rabbits who hid in their burrows.
Your obsession with plants also did not diminish with the passage of time; Always worried that the flowers in your aunt's garden were well cared for—including the plants of other neighbors around—you used to water them, sing to them, and prune them.
Surely that obsession guided you to own your own flower shop.
You also used to have great pride in having so much knowledge of them, especially when you were a little girl, since you used to help the ladies in your neighborhood with their plants, giving them advice and tips to take care of them.
Especially one, who was your neighbor next door.
Mrs. Jeon was a pleasant woman, with pretty features and very affectionate towards you.
She was a housewife and had two children; Junghyung and Jungkook. Although you didn't interact much with them.
You still remembered the day the Jeons moved into the house next door.
It was summer and you were returning from your adventures in the forest near the neighborhood, where you talked to the small animals and encouraged green life to grow.
When you turned onto your street, you could see a large moving truck in the house next to yours. Curious, you arrived at your front yard and watched as the movers walked in and out of the house with furniture and boxes.
Before you could watch a family get out of a family car, your aunt Binna called you from the entrance to go take a shower for lunch.
Reluctantly, you left, not before taking a look back.
Years later and you still have the same feeling of warmth that you received every time you remembered the past.
“Why are you smiling at the shovel?”
That's where your memory lane ends. Behind you was Yoongi, who had a small philodendron in his arms.
“Why couldn't I smile at the shovel?” you retorted, leaving the shovel on the counter and sitting up.
Yoongi chuckled, shrugging casually. “I've always known you have a few screws loose. Feel free to continue charming the shovel.”
Mirroring his smile, you quipped, “Thanks for the endorsement, my esteemed companion. You'll be the honored guest at our shovel-themed wedding.”
Setting the plant by the large window, Yoongi fetched his water sprayer from his apron pocket. “I feel truly appreciated,” he replied, misting the green leaves.
From the spacious wooden counter, you opened your laptop, checking the latest email – an order for an outdoor wedding floral arrangement.
“We've got another order,” you informed from your seat.
“For what occasion?” Yoongi abandoned the sprayer, approaching curiously.
“A wedding,” you replied, studying the details.
“Another one?” Your friend leaned beside you.
You shifted for him to read the screen. “At least they're giving us four months," you nodded.
“And the payment is good,” you added. “Our end-of-year getaway might happen after all.”
Yoongi smiled beside you as you bounced with excitement. It might not be a lavish affair, but you cherished the yearly trip with Yoongi and his partner to a quiet seaside town.
A serene ambiance enveloped the place, with only a handful of individuals, and in winter, it turned into a magical haven.
(It was also a place full of magic, but that was a detail that you left hidden)
“Well, in any case, we should celebrate,” Yoongi stood up, heading towards the door to switch the sign from open to closed.
You stretched in your seat and agreed. “What's on the agenda for today? I was thinking of bringing some cakes from Jimin's favorite bakery for our movie night.”
“Oh, about that..." Yoongi hesitated, “Jimin texted me. He's inviting a friend from his college days to join us tonight. Is that okay? I mean, I know you're not a fan of meeting new people, and if you prefer, I can suggest postponing the gathering to tomorrow.”
Taking the broom, you looked at Yoongi affectionately. “It's fine, Yoongs. If he's Jimin's friend, I'm sure I'll get along with him.”
Worry etched Yoongi's expression. “Are you sure? I mean, in the hierarchy of friendships, you come first. Jimin could easily rearrange his plans for us tonight and meet his friend tomorrow.”
Giggling, you enjoyed seeing how much Yoongi cared. “Don't worry. I'm a big girl. I can handle Jimin's college buddies.”
Yoongi smiled in relief. “Alright, but do let me know if you feel uncomfortable or anything.”
“Okey dokey,”you said, raising your palm.
“Okey dokey,” Yoongi replied, giving you a high-five.
Tumblr media
The relentless July sun bore down on your head.
Frustrated by the forgotten hat at home, you silently headed to the bakery.
After buying Jimin's favorite cakes —a mixture capable of putting you in a diabetic coma—you headed towards your friends' apartment, which was a few blocks away.
Your friends' neighborhood was your favorite place to visit.
It was a residential area, which was always in perfect condition.
Grand and expansive, the houses stood adorned with enchanting gardens—a sight that never failed to captivate you. Each residence was meticulously maintained, but it was a particular house that unfailingly left you in awe. A colonial masterpiece, it boasted a white facade adorned with vibrant red tiles. Cascading vines adorned the balcony, reaching down to the floor in a display of elegance. What truly set it apart was the magnificent garden, a vibrant canvas of fiery-hued flowers and exquisite sculptures. It spoke volumes about the refined taste of the person fortunate enough to call it home.
Having successfully banished any lingering awe, you reached the enchanting street where your friends resided. Courtesies exchanged with the concierge, you gracefully entered the awaiting elevator, confidently selecting the sixth floor with a soft chime resonating in the enclosed space.
Underneath your composed exterior, a subtle current of nervous anticipation flowed.
It wasn't a matter of feeling overwhelmed by strangers; rather, your unease stemmed from a lack of familiarity with personal social interactions, even though you navigated such dynamics daily in your professional life.
Your inclination leaned toward maintaining a small, close-knit circle of friends, an approach that steered you away from embracing new connections. However, the person you were about to encounter wasn't just a mere stranger but an integral figure in Jimin's life. You were steadfast in your resolve not to burden Jimin with the dilemma of choosing between friends, an ardent desire to avoid becoming a source of disappointment.
Driven by the profound aversion to letting down your friends, you made a conscious decision to present a facade of normalcy for the impending meeting. It was a commitment to navigate through the evening with an air of ease, recognizing that, in the grand tapestry of life, this was merely a single night – a challenge that, with resilience, you believed you could gracefully overcome.
As you reached the designated floor, you traversed the pristine, white hallway, and with a gentle knock, you announced your arrival at the penultimate door. After a brief pause, the door swung open, revealing Jimin's golden locks.
“____!” he exclaimed, “I'm thrilled you could make it!”
A wide smile graced your face. “It's wonderful to see you too. I brought some pastries.”
Jimin reciprocated the smile. “If I weren't gay, I'd definitely kiss you!”
Amused, you laughed and stepped into their apartment. The ambiance of Jimin and Yoongi's residence exuded a youthful yet elegant charm, reflecting both your best friend's personality and that of his partner.
“Come on, Yoongi is busy preparing some meat on the balcony,” the blonde guided you.
“Ah, you've made it,” Yoongi greeted. “I thought you'd be melting in this heat.”
You snorted, “Don't even mention it. I absorbed the last rays of the day's sun on my way here.”
“I offered to pick you up by car,” Yoongi scolded, brandishing his grill knife.
You playfully dismissed him with a wave of your hand. “I know, I know. But I didn't want to distract you, and besides, I enjoy the walk. It adds a magical touch to the whole experience.”
“You're unbelievably stubborn,” Yoongi teased.
To that, you simply shrugged your shoulders, embracing your determined nature.
“What's the heated discussion about?” Jimin interjected, holding a couple of beer cans.
“How intolerable this brat can be,” Yoongi grumbled.
Jimin chuckled, extending a can towards you. You graciously accepted, and the blonde headed to his boyfriend, delivering the other can.
“By the way, Yoongles mentioned you invited a friend from college,” you remarked.
Jimin settled beside you. “Oh, yes, I apologize for not informing you earlier. I know you're not a fan of mingling with strangers, but Yoongi assured me everything is fine.”
You nodded. “No need to worry; I'm perfectly fine with it.”
Jimin visibly relaxed. “Great! You don't have to stress about anything. My friend is not only nice but also incredibly funny.”
Smiling, you inquired, “Were you two very close friends?”
Jimin reclined in his chair, looking at you with evident happiness.
“The connection we shared was extraordinary. Despite his initial shyness, he gradually transformed into a popular figure. Sadly, we lost touch after graduating, and a year ago, he embarked on a global adventure. Now, he's back,” Jimin revealed, his eyes reflecting the depth of their friendship.
“That's truly wonderful. I've always dreamed of an extensive journey myself,” you shared.
Jimin nodded, disclosing, “I followed his captivating journey through his Instagram. His photography gained significant acclaim.”
“Photography, you say?” you inquired.
“Yes, even though his academic focus was in computer science,” Jimin explained, sipping his beer.
“That's remarkable. I'm genuinely happy to hear that his life has taken such a positive turn,” you remarked.
Jimin's emotions seemed to shift. “He's been through a lot, and witnessing his growth brings me immense joy.”
Before you could respond, the doorbell rang, prompting Jimin to leap up.
“It must be him!”
“He appears quite excited.” You noted, then turned to your friend, who was occupied with browning the meat.
“Yes, Jimin told me that his friend had a crisis and that's why he left for a year. Apparently he's a good guy and you know how Jimin is, too sensitive with those he loves.”
“Jimin has been an exceptional friend. I consider myself fortunate to have crossed paths with him,” you expressed sincerely.
A look of profound affection from Yoongi reinforced the warmth of the bond you shared with both of them.
“He's equally delighted to have you in his life, Bub,” Yoongi assured, a sentiment that brought a genuine smile to your face. In a life where you consciously kept your circle compact, the presence of Yoongi and Jimin proved to be the most precious and enriching.
In the midst of your conversation with Yoongi, the imminent return of Jimin momentarily slipped your mind. The air was filled with a blend of voices, among which Jimin's curiosity stood out.
“It's very quiet living here! Are you planning to look for something similar?” You heard Jimin’s voice.
However, the response was drowned out as the balcony door swung open with a resonant creak. Gathering mental fortitude, you adorned your best smile in anticipation.
“Hi, I’m…” you couldn't finish your sentence because you froze.
As you faltered in your attempt to introduce yourself, a sudden surge of paralysis gripped you, freezing your words on the precipice. The room hung suspended in a disconcerting silence, amplifying the tumult within. The boundary between jest and reality blurred, leaving you grappling with a maelstrom of emotions – the impulse to scream, the yearning to shed tears, and an inexplicable urge to escape. Your body, however, betrayed you, caught in a rigid state, joints locked, breath arrested, mirroring the stillness of your heart.
Swift to recognize your distress, Yoongi deftly intervened, redirecting the unfolding awkwardness.
“Hello! I'm Yoongi, Jimin's partner,” he declared, striding purposefully towards the newcomers. To diffuse the palpable tension, he continued, “And this is my best friend, ____,” punctuated by a subtle nod from you.
The newcomers responded with a tentative smile, their composure visibly unsettled. The girl, attuned to her boyfriend's wandering gaze on your figure, diplomatically interjected.
“Hello! I'm Jiwoo, Jungkook's fiancée,” she proclaimed with an air of gentle formality. The weight of the term "fiancée" lingered, resonating deeply in your thoughts.
Jeon Jungkook has a fiancĂŠe.
Jimin orchestrated the seating arrangement, placing them beside you. In this surreal juncture, Jungkook introduced himself, his voice an echoing remembrance from the past. Summoning the courage to meet his gaze for the first time since his arrival, you found your breath arrested by the sight of his face, an unsettling pause enveloping the room.
Standing before you was a man whose stature surpassed your recollection, a towering presence accentuated by his impressive height and robust frame. Cascading down his shoulders, his once-familiar dark hair now framed a countenance marked by the passage of time. The revelation of an intricate tapestry of tattoos adorning his arm became apparent, unveiled by the sleeves of his short black t-shirt.
Yet, it was the constancy of his gaze that struck the most profound chord within you. Despite the exchange of words with Jimin, his doe-eyed stare remained unwavering, anchoring your attention in an unsettling and unwelcome connection.
Overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, unable to endure another second in the shared space where their gazes lingered, you gracefully excused yourself. A swift retreat led you to the refuge of the bathroom, seeking solace within its walls as the echoes of their continued scrutiny lingered in your wake.
As your anxiety reached a fever pitch, its palpable effects reverberated in the environment. The handwash faucet, seemingly responding to your heightened state, unexpectedly opened by itself, and the bathroom window flapped vigorously, propelled by an unforeseen gust of wind.
With your heart pounding relentlessly in your chest, you managed to slide down the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, seeking solace on the floor. The overwhelming pressure pushed you into a state of vulnerability.
Recalling the advice from Aunt Yoon's lessons, you instinctively covered your ears with your hands and shut your eyes, resting your head on your knees. Familiar voices echoed in your mind, guiding you to find composure amid the storm of emotions.
In an attempt to regain control, you focused on slow, deliberate breaths. As you exhaled, you directed your attention to the bathroom light. With a graceful sweep of your hand, you extinguished its glow, enveloping yourself in complete darkness, except for the soft illumination seeping through the window.
Within this shadowed cocoon, you conjured a small halo of light with your hands, orchestrating its gentle movements. This newfound distraction allowed you to redirect your focus, creating intricate animal shapes within the luminous halo.
Gratitude welled up as the calming effects of this self-imposed light show permeated your senses, coaxing your pulse back to a more manageable rhythm. Amidst the mental whining for teleportation powers, a shadow beneath the door brought you back to reality.
A delicate knock followed, the sound reverberating through the bathroom.
“Are you okay, Bub?” It was Yoongi.
Contemplating your next move, you acknowledged the inevitability of leaving the bathroom sanctuary. With a sigh of resignation, you rose to your feet and opened the bathroom door, prepared to face the outside world once more.
In the clarity of the room, your friend's worried expression was evident.
“Yes,” you managed to respond, your voice carrying a subtle tremor.
Observing your condition, Yoongi's skepticism lingered, although he refrained from pressing the matter further.
“I don't feel very well. I suspect it was something I ate. Can you excuse me to Jimin and his guests? I don't want to appear rude,” you admitted, attempting to convey sincerity despite the weakness in your words.
Yoongi maintained a neutral expression, nodding in acknowledgment. “I'll go get my keys. Wait for me here.”
Your immediate protest burst forth, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “No! I'm sorry, but I believe it's better for me to go alone. It's not too late, and the fresh air might alleviate my discomfort.”
Raising his eyebrows, your friend expressed concern, “Are you sure you're okay? Should I take you to the hospital?”
Offering a reassuring thumbs-up, you dismissed the trembling in your hands. “Everything is fine; I just feel a little dizzy and tired.”
Before Yoongi could interject, Jimin's voice echoed from outside. “Go,” you urged tensely, “I'll be fine. Just excuse me from Jimin.”
A complex array of emotions played across your friend's face, showcasing his inner struggle. After a few contemplative seconds, he sighed. “Okay, go, but be careful. Let me know when you arrive, and if you feel unwell, don't hesitate to call.”
Embracing him briefly, you departed the apartment swiftly, propelled by a sense of urgency that matched the pace of your footsteps.
With a hasty nod to the doorman, you left the haven of your friends' neighborhood, exhaling a sigh of relief. Under the cloak of night, you found solace in the anonymity it granted, allowing a cathartic scream of frustration to escape into the open air.
Unmindful of the sidelong glances from passersby, you surrendered to the maelstrom of emotions within. The night became a silent confidant to your inner turmoil, and the unbridled tears mirrored the tempest of feelings that engulfed you.
Despite knowing you should control yourself, especially since today's forecast didn't include torrential rain, you ignored this. You didn't bother hiding your magic, which triggered a downpour the moment you left Jimin's apartment.
Facing the reality of your evasive tendencies, you couldn't deny the stark truth about your emotional susceptibilities, a trait often criticized by Aunt Yoon as a vulnerability. In your solitude, your tear-streaked face and swollen, reddened eyes painted a vivid portrait of vulnerability—a deviation from familial expectations. Yet, in this nocturnal moment, it was only the gaze of strangers that bore witness to your emotional upheaval.
Tumblr media
As you reclined in the bathtub, contemplating the unexpected encounter with Jungkook, a whirlwind of emotions engulfed you. Surprisingly, Salem, your usually mischievous cat, lay perched on the bath chair, radiating an uncharacteristic air of understanding – a stark departure from his typical penchant for mockery.
It dawned on you that Salem was privy to the intricacies of your history with Jungkook, intimately aware of the emotions that resurfaced during the encounter. His unspoken support, though unexpected, held a unique depth, a testament to the unbreakable bond between you and your feline confidant.
With a deep sigh, you decided to share more details with Salem, letting your feelings spill out like water from a broken dam. “I never imagined he would come back into my life. Not after all this time,” you confessed, your voice tinged with vulnerability.
Salem listened intently, his green eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and sympathy. “Life has a funny way of surprising us,” he mused, his tail swaying gently.
You nodded. “I just wish I could have been more composed when I saw him. Instead, I froze like a deer caught in headlights and ran away.”
The cat brushed against your arm, a gesture of reassurance. “It happens to the best of us. Emotions are messy, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.”
You couldn't argue with that. Jungkook's presence had stirred up a whirlwind of memories, both happy and painful. “I thought I had moved on,” you admitted, running your fingers through the water absentmindedly. “But seeing him again brought everything back.”
Salem, ever the sage advisor, offered his perspective. “Moving on doesn't mean forgetting. It means learning to live with the memories without letting them control you.”
His words resonated with you, providing a sliver of clarity amid the emotional turmoil. “I know, Salem. I need to face this too, even if it feels like reopening old wounds.”
“I'm surprised you accepted this so quickly,” your cat confessed.
You sighed slowly, playing with the soap bubbles.
“I have to, apparently Jimin adores Jungkook. That means I'll have to run into him at least one more time,” you growled.
Salem laughed, throwing his head back showing his white fangs.
“You talk like it's strange that Jungkook is charming to everyone.”
You gave him a knife-sharp look. “Of course I know Jungkook is charming. I knew it from the first moment I saw him”
Your cat looked at you mockingly “I see that your jealousy is still active.”
You threw water at him, making him hiss at you.
“Careful with this beautiful fur, human girl!” Salem looked at himself, looking for any part of his body that was wet.
“I'm not jealous,” you replied.
“Yeah, of course,” your cat replied sarcastically. “As if you didn't suffer a mental breakdown every time Jungkook went to tutor that Cheerleader that you didn't like.”
You got up offended, spilling some water that overflowed onto the floor.
“For the love of Satan! Stop throwing water on the ground!”
You giggled but with a snap, you dried the wet floor without much difficulty.
“Better?”
Salem sighed irritably, but let it go. He knew that you were still affected by the events that occurred a few hours ago.
“I'm sorry,” you looked at him with your bright eyes, on the verge of tears. “It's just that I missed him so much and seeing him there was like my soul returning to my body.”
Salem nodded, his cat-like eyes focused on your trembling countenance. “I understand, although you must also remember that it's not the boy's fault that he hasn't seen you for almost ten years.”
You screeched in frustration. “I know! That's why I'm mad at myself." You clenched your fists. “I'm not being fair, I know.”
In seconds, hot tears of helplessness fell from your eyes.
You had cried so much that you felt like you were running dry, although you preferred to cry naked in your bathtub with your talking cat as a witness than cry like a loser in the streets with the pouring rain.
Salem nudged your hand with his head, a gesture that felt oddly comforting. A small smile played on your lips.
“I appreciate having you around,” you whispered gently. “Despite our occasional squabbles that resemble sibling rivalry, I find joy in having you as a part of my life.”
You and Salem remained in the bathroom, a peculiar duo bound by a history that transcended the ordinary human-pet relationship. The atmosphere softened, and Salem, with a twitch of his tail, broke the silence.
“You know, for a human, you're not half bad,” Salem teased, his green eyes glinting mischievously.
Rolling your eyes, you retorted, “And for a cat, you're surprisingly sentimental.”
Salem nudged your hand playfully, “Only for you, _____. But don't let it go to your head.”
You chuckled, grateful for the levity he brought to the moment. “I won't. So, any plans on how to deal with the Jungkook situation?”
Salem feigned contemplation, his tail swaying side to side. “Well, we could start with not throwing water on the floor every time you're annoyed.”
You laughed, “Fair enough. I'll work on that.”
As you began to drain the bathtub, Salem leaped down, pacing around the bathroom like he owned the place. “Remember, we're in this together, Human. I'm not letting you face the Jungkook dilemma alone.”
With a smirk, you replied, “Good to know, Cat. Teammates, right?”
“Teammates,” he affirmed, and as you stepped out of the bathroom, you couldn't help but appreciate the unique bond you shared with your sassy feline friend. Little did you know, the challenges ahead would only strengthen the unspoken understanding between you and Salem, making your friendship an unexpected source of strength in the face of life's unpredictable twists.
Tumblr media
Indulging in an emotional outpour in the midst of a torrential downpour probably wasn't the wisest choice, and now you found yourself grappling with the repercussions of that impulsive decision.
Pain reverberated through your skull like an explosive symphony, each beat an agonizing pulse. Swollen to the point of incapacity, your eyes resisted attempts to open, trapped in the clutches of the affliction tormenting your body. A relentless cough seized you, each convulsion intensifying the already distressing situation.
The warmth radiating from your skin forewarned of an impending fever, threatening to pull you into the abyss of its debilitating embrace at any given moment. As discomfort layered upon discomfort, your physical state became an intricate tapestry of misery, weaving together the threads of throbbing pain, swollen eyes, and an unrelenting cough.
The incessant playback of ABBA's melodic tunes only intensified the predicament. Feeling utterly disheartened and shrouded in darkness, you impulsively struck your nightstand, yearning to silence the persistently chirpy alarm – a feat that proved elusive.
“Salem!” you bellowed in frustration, confident your feline companion was alert. Typically, at this hour, Salem reveled in observing the morning skirmishes between your neighbors, perched contentedly by the window. After a brief pause, you sensed the delicate touch of small paws on the wooden floor, followed by a graceful leap.
“What happened to your face?” inquired your concerned cat, gracefully traversing the expanse of the bed. Emitting a weary sigh, you replied, “What do you think?!” dripping with ironic exasperation. “Could you kindly put an end to the ABBA serenade? It's throbbing in my head.”
“I thought you'd never ask. I was on the verge of contemplating a window escape,” Salem quipped and a welcome hush settled in as the music ceased, leaving behind a palpable tranquility.
“Your appearance is rather dire,” mused your cat. “I'll venture into Binna's ancient cookbook, see if there's a remedy for your congestion and eyes.” With that, your feline companion gracefully exited the room, leaving you alone with the weight of your thoughts.
A peculiar sensation enveloped you, a departure from the serene routine you cherished. Yesterday's surreal events disrupted your tranquility, plunging you into an unexpected maelstrom. As stress mounted, the realization dawned: today, opening the store was an improbable feat. You resigned yourself to the inevitable task of informing Yoongi about your illness.
Contemplating calling him, you hesitated, anticipating his inevitable arrival at your apartment. After leaving you to your own devices yesterday, the gravity of recent events ensured he wouldn't let another moment elapse without seeking an explanation. You understood the futility of avoiding the impending conversation; Yoongi's familiarity with you meant evasion was a futile endeavor.
The internal conflict intensified. While you sought to shield your secrets, not for your sake but for the safety of those around you, memories surfaced of the last time an unwitting innocent had stumbled upon your hidden truths. The stakes were higher, and the delicate balance between disclosure and protection hung in the uneasy silence of your apartment.
The internal turmoil dissipated with a knock on your front door, a sure sign that it was Yoongi. Despite your initial inclination to feign slumber and play ignorant, you dismissed the unfairness of such tactics. Struggling against your physical discomfort, you made your way to the door, relying on muscle memory to navigate the lock on the first attempt.
“Hello,” you greeted him, your voice laced with drowsiness. As the silence lingered, your anxiety mounted. “Tell me you're Yoongi and not a stranger.”
Assured by his familiar voice, you sighed in relief when Yoongi confirmed his identity. "It's me, Daisy,” he reassured, but concern etched his features. “What happened to you?! Do you need help?”
Before you could dismiss his offer, Yoongi's hands gently grasped your shoulders, guiding you back into the apartment. “You should have told me you were like this!” he exclaimed, a mix of frustration and worry evident in his tone. “Go to bed, let me prepare some herbal water and soup.”
Attempting nonchalance, you responded, “It's okay. Salem is taking care of it,” the words slipping out without much thought. Heading towards your room, you realized Yoongi wasn't following.
“What's going on?” you questioned.
“How is Salem going to take care of that?” Yoongi pressed, seeking clarification.
In a quick mental scramble, you conjured an excuse. “You know I like to joke about Salem being almost like a person,” you explained, hoping he would attribute your words to the haze of illness. Yoongi relaxed slightly, accepting the explanation. “Okay, let's go,” he agreed, unknowingly stepping into a web of secrets and feigned normalcy.
You found solace in the eccentricity of your speech and demeanor, knowing that Yoongi rarely took your statements seriously. “I guess this is about last night,” he remarked, momentarily halting your steps.
“Uh, yeah, about that…” you hesitated, reaching your unkempt bed where Yoongi dutifully set about fixing the disarrayed bedding, tenderly covering you.
“I'm sorry,” you murmured, opening your eyes just a sliver, the figure of your friend a bit blurred.
“Why?” he inquired, settling on the edge of the bed beside you.
“For being a lousy friend,” you confessed.
Yoongi chuckled. “Why do you think you're a lousy friend?”
A lingering silence enveloped the room as internal debate raged on. The decision to divulge or withhold weighed heavily on your mind, yet the fear of losing Yoongi eclipsed the burden of guilt.
“Last night,” you began, releasing a fraction of the truth.
“I can't say I don't care, but the truth is, I don't know what happened with you last night.”
Observing your uncertain expression, Yoongi placed his hand atop yours. “It's okay if you don't want to tell me, but if you need someone to share those things with, you know you have me.” His reassurance offered a comforting anchor in the tempest of secrets and unspoken words.
“It’s not that! It's just that…” you blurted out, grappling to organize your thoughts. “It's hard to tell you this.”
Yoongi's expression shifted to surprise. “Is it something bad? Although it hurts me a little to think that you can't tell me things.”
“No!” you blurted out again. “I mean, it's not a bad thing, but it is a secret—something I haven't shared with anyone. I can't leave you with that weight on your shoulders. I care about you deeply, and this is a very old personal issue of mine.”
Yoongi sighed, his touch on your hand offering a reassurance. “I understand that you have secrets and everything, but I need you to trust me. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”
Frustration welled up within you. You comprehended your friend's earnestness, and part of you yearned to unburden yourself, seeking refuge in his understanding like a vulnerable child. Yet, the weight of the secrets, particularly this one, loomed heavily.
“I trust you with my life,” you asserted firmly. “Don't ever think that I don't trust you. But this is delicate, and I don't want to put you in danger, okay? It's for your own good. I need you to understand.” Your hand found his, emphasizing the gravity of your words, seeking a connection that transcended spoken language in the complexity of shared trust and unspoken fears.
Yoongi's gaze lingered on the juncture where your hands met his. Your small, pale hands, adorned with various scars, each a testament to childhood mishaps, contrasting sharply with his own larger, slender fingers—resembling those of a pianist, unmarred by any blemish.
Having known you for about five years, Yoongi recalled his initial impression of you as a girl thrust into the adult world, seemingly vulnerable yet never to be underestimated. Physically unassuming, you harbored an indomitable strength within. Even on the brink of collapse, you seldom sought assistance, always striving to navigate challenges independently.
Your independence, strong will, and stubbornness were palpable, complemented by a warmth and genuine concern for your loved ones. Despite the tough exterior, Yoongi understood that you harbored a complex relationship with your family—a topic shrouded in silence, as if you had grown up in solitude.
Yoongi sighed, breaking the contemplative silence. “It's okay. I understand. But when you're ready, please tell me. Otherwise, I don't know how to help you, kiddo.” Despite your persistent self-reliance, he emphasized his commitment to ensuring your well-being.
The unspoken bond between you and Yoongi transcended mere friendship; it was a pact of mutual support, a promise that echoed in the intertwining of your hands—a connection that conveyed a shared understanding even in the face of undisclosed burdens.
Giving him a warm smile, you say, “I've got you, Yoongi. When the time's right, I'll spill all the beans. I Appreciate you rolling with the punches in my life and being the constant in all the chaos. You're my rock, Yoongi.”
A spark of anticipation ignites within you, and you can't help but feel a renewed sense of connection. You eagerly await the day when you can share your truths with Yoongi, not just because it's necessary, but because he's earned the right to know the intricacies of your heart. Until then, the unspoken bond between you two will continue to strengthen, paving the way for a future where your shared trust transcends the undisclosed burdens you carry.
Tumblr media
The weight of the term "coward" bore down on you, a bitter truth you grappled with. In refusing your friends' invitations, you felt the sting of guilt, recognizing the unfairness of your actions. Yet, each declination seemed like a desperate attempt to shield them from the mysterious reality you were living.
Deep down, you were keenly aware that Yoongi harbored suspicions about your enigmatic secret and your reluctance to join gatherings since Jungkook's return. But so far, he chose to maintain a respectful silence, understanding the complexity of your situation. You knew that inevitably, you would have to face them or reveal the truth, a daunting prospect that loomed on the horizon of your clandestine reality.
Lost in contemplation, you found solace in the transformative touch of your magic on a calla lily's withered leaves. The visual metamorphosis from faded yellow to vivid green offered a momentary escape from the turmoil within.
The idea of visiting a neglected park to tend to the forsaken plants flickered in your thoughts. However, your recent weeks had dwindled into a mundane routine—shuttling between your apartment and work with little room for spontaneity.
Salem, your feline confidant, dismissed your cautious approach, deeming you a “scared chicken.” Yet, Salem wasn't navigating the unpredictable streets, fearing an accidental reunion with a former love entwined with his fiancée.
Seeking refuge in the familiar, your nights were painted with Gilmore Girls marathons, a shared ritual with Salem. In this routine, you found a fragment of normalcy, although Salem's affinity for reality shows, particularly the extravagantly dramatic ones, wasn't lost on you—typical of a devoted Jersey Shore fan.
On one of those nights, there you were, clad in bunny pajamas and cocooned beneath a soft, pink blanket. Salem, your feline companion, lounged nearby, sporting cucumbers over his eyes as he reclined in an armchair atop a plush pillow.
“I don't understand why Rory makes such a big deal about being with that cute boy,” Salem remarked, his feline skepticism directed at the TV screen.
You sighed, your attention captivated by the unfolding drama on the television. “Well, Rory is classified as a good girl, and he's a bad boy, as they say,” you attempted to rationalize the protagonist's actions.
Salem sighed dramatically, almost dislodging one of the cucumbers from his eyes. “These children today with their labels. That's not a bad boy! Having a bad personality and doing unexpected things is not being bad. In my human era, I used to set houses on fire for fun.”
You couldn't help but glance at your cat, suppressing a laugh. “Salem, the difference is that he simply behaves badly socially. You, on the other hand, wanted to dominate the world.”
Offended, Salem shifted, grabbing a corn cap and defiantly placing it in his mouth. “What's wrong with wanting to take over the world? I was honestly doing all you vapid humans a favor.”
You sighed, fully aware that attempting to alter your cat's worldview was a futile endeavor. Despite his occasional moral quirks, his loyalty to you remained unwavering, even if his ethical compass was a bit unconventional.
Salem chimed in, dismissing the idea of Rory choosing her boyfriend over the 'bad boy.' “Anyway, she'd be stupid to choose her idiot boyfriend over the 'bad boy,'” Salem quipped, offering his feline commentary on the TV drama.
Casually grabbing a handful of popcorn, you nodded in agreement. “I can't deny that. Jess is very charming.”
Salem burst into laughter. “You always fall for the character like him,” he teased, capturing the essence of your penchant for captivating personalities.
You shrugged, acknowledging Salem's astute observation. Personality, indeed, held considerable weight in your assessments. However, a somber undertone enveloped the room as your cat uttered, “Although Jungkook was a different story.”
Salem, quick to rectify any potential discomfort, clarified, “I mean, Jungkook wasn't a bad boy, but he was very charming.”
A bittersweet smile played on your lips. Salem's words rang true – Jungkook was undeniably charming. In fact, “charming” had been his nickname during your past relationship. His allure extended beyond his striking physical features to his dark, captivating eyes. Yet, it was his multifaceted personality that truly distinguished him. Jungkook, a gentleman and a hopeless romantic, possessed a charisma that left an indelible mark.
However, the charm didn't diminish his playful side – a penchant for competition and teasing that brought both joy and occasional exasperation. The memories of those moments played like a silent film, evoking a mix of nostalgia and the inevitable ache that accompanied thoughts of Jungkook.
Your talking cat, astutely perceiving the direction of your thoughts, chose to intervene. “It's late. My dream of beauty awaits me,” he declared, nonchalantly removing the cucumbers from his eyes, as if signaling the end of his entertainment.
You absentmindedly nodded in response. “Hey brat, you should go to sleep. Your dark circles are getting worse every day,” your cat stated, taking a few steps into his designated space.
As always, your cat's acerbic comments carried an underlying truth. Your dark circles, silent witnesses to your restless nights, had indeed become more pronounced. It wasn't that you were resistant to the idea of sleep; it was just that ever since the unexpected encounter with Jungkook, restful slumber had eluded you. Moreover, an inexplicable fatigue had settled into your bones, leaving your body more exhausted than usual.
The nightly escapades with Gilmore Girls and Salem's company, while comforting, couldn't completely mask the deeper anxieties that lingered beneath the surface. As you stood on the precipice between wakefulness and dreams, the echoes of the past and the uncertainties of the present converged, casting shadows that manifested as visible signs on your weary face.
Tumblr media
Yoongi had mentioned his and Jimin's trip to his parents' house, but it only fully registered today when he sent a message reminding you that, for the day, you would be the sole occupant of the store.
Luckily, you were already en route, having woken up ahead of the alarm. Mornings held a special allure for you, a time when the world seemed brimming with possibilities. The birds serenaded from the trees, the plants stirred to life, eager for a morning sunbath, and people bustled about, preparing for their day.
Fortune favored you, as the day unfolded with a surprising calmness, sparing you from a hectic workload. Capitalizing on the tranquil atmosphere, you decided to close up shop early and head home, intending to invite your cat for a leisurely outing.
Salem, seemed overjoyed at the prospect, his daily entertainment having temporarily moved away—the neighbors next door.
You adorned yourself in a thin dress adorned with vibrant flower patterns, the perfect attire for basking in the sunny day. A diligent application of sunscreen followed, a necessary precaution for your sensitive skin.
However, Salem's animal instincts prevented him from roaming freely without a leash. Although not a conventional cat, his unpredictable nature necessitated a careful approach. As you prepared to take him out, the anticipation of a sunlit excursion filled the air, promising a serene interlude amidst the routine of your day.
“Do you prefer that we go to the park near the center or the one near this sector?” you inquired, capitalizing on the deserted streets to engage in a conversation with Salem.
Salem's tail swayed as he noticed bugs fluttering near some flowers. “Let's go to the one close to your friends' neighborhood. Let's take advantage of the fact that they're not in the city,” he responded absentmindedly.
Enthusiastically, you and your cat set off in that direction. The park near your friends' neighborhood held a special charm—beautiful, serene, and known for its delightful ice cream offerings.
Upon arrival, you witnessed the expansive park filled with families enjoying their leisure time. Opting to settle near the pet-friendly area, you and Salem joined the ranks of others with the same intention.
As you observed, puppies frolicked joyfully, engaging in playful antics, while cats gracefully navigated their designated climbing structures. Salem, for once, seemed poised for a predator's pursuit, his back raised and gaze fixed intently on the grass.
Seating yourself, you embraced the idyllic scene, the carefree interactions of pets mirroring the leisurely afternoon unfolding around you.
After a delightful stint at the pet-friendly section, you suggested to Salem that it was time for ice cream—an idea that sparked shared excitement. The ice cream stand in this park had a well-deserved reputation for its delightful treats.
As you traversed the park toward the exercise area, the ice cream cart came into view, attended by an elderly gentleman exuding warmth. “Hello,” you greeted. “Can you give me two ice cream cones, please?” You opted for the classic strawberry and vanilla combination, while Salem subtly indicated—keeping it hush-hush from the vendor—his preference for chocolate and cookie flavor.
Equipped with your chosen delights, both of you sought refuge from the heat under the shade in the nearby area.
“There are quite a few humans exercising,” Salem observed between licks of his ice cream, which you held out for him.
You nodded, your mouth occupied with the delectable treat. In the vicinity, exercise platforms hosted several people, likely part of a group that gathered for communal workouts. The gusty afternoon wind played its part, occasionally obstructing your view as you contended with strands of hair billowing into your face.
Amidst bites of ice cream and the distant hum of exercise enthusiasts, you and Salem reveled in the simple joy of a sunlit day, punctuated by the sweet indulgence of shared treats.
The tranquility surrounding you shattered abruptly when Salem, positioned next to you, nearly dropped his ice cream. “What happened to you?” you inquired in surprise, brushing strands of hair out of your face.
As your vision cleared, you observed your cat, seemingly paralyzed by something in his line of sight. Following his gaze, you discovered the source of his astonishment—a muscular figure executing pull-ups on some bars. However, your fortune took a turn for the worse as you recognized the specimen to be none other than Jungkook.
His sweaty back adhered to a tight black t-shirt, elevating the temperature on your cheeks. While you had always been aware of Jungkook's well-maintained physique, your mental image had been anchored in his teenage years, not this embodiment of masculinity.
“Damn,” you and Salem echoed simultaneously. As you continued to gawk, your grip faltered, leading to the unfortunate demise of your ice cream. Yet, your attention remained captivated by the man before you.
An involuntary reaction stirred between your legs—a sensation dormant for far too long. However, the enchantment was abruptly disrupted by the barking of a large dog nearby. Panic set in; you were with Salem, and despite his mischievous tendencies in his golden age, he remained a cat.
Swiftly scooping up your feline companion, you used your magic to clean the fallen ice cream with a single hand.
In a near sprint, you attempted to escape the scene swiftly, but your efforts were thwarted as the same barking dog bolted towards you at full speed. Closing your eyes in fear, you clutched Salem tightly to your chest, shielding him from potential harm.
“Fuckin-!” Salem's protest was muffled as you squeezed him even tighter. Panicking, you beseeched the approaching dog, “Oh, cute little dog! Good dog! Don't eat my cat, please!”
To your relief, instead of feeling sharp teeth, the dog leaped onto you, licking you eagerly and wagging its tail with unbridled joy. As you cautiously opened your eyes, you found the little dog gazing at you happily, devoid of any malevolent intentions.
Before you could identify the source of the new voice, the dog leapt off you. “I'm sorry! I promise he doesn't have any bad intentions; he's just very playful!” the owner explained.
“Don't worry…” you began, only to be interrupted as you locked eyes with your unexpected savior. “Oh, it's you!” Jungkook exclaimed with unusual excitement.
Struggling to respond, you found yourself once again speechless in his presence. Jungkook, unaware of your rigid demeanor, continued, “Sorry about my dog! He's still a puppy and tends to be playful.”
Feeling claws digging into your stomach, you silently cursed Salem. As Jungkook spoke, you attempted to break free from your frozen state. “Hi, um... sorry, it must be because of my cat.” You finally managed to speak, avoiding direct eye contact. “Don't worry, I did notice.”
Jungkook's smile was blindingly bright, leaving you momentarily stunned. “He's cute,” he remarked, pointing to your chest where Salem was concealed.
Suppressing a laugh at the irony, you agreed, “Yes, although he's not much of a dog lover.” You gestured towards Bam, who was curiously sniffing around “He’s cute too”
“He is. Although his size can be intimidating,” Jungkook commented with a smile.
Unable to resist, you inadvertently mirrored his smile. “How old is he?” you inquired, curiosity piqued. Bam, a Doberman with a sleek, dark coat, stood at a height reaching up to your belly. He exuded an air of elegance and grace.
Jungkook's response drew an astonished gasp from you, “Almost seven months. I know, it's the same reaction every time I mention his age.”
A laugh bubbled from you as you adjusted Salem, his curious little head popping up from your arm. “Hello, little friend,” Jungkook greeted your feline companion warmly, fostering a comforting warmth within you.
You introduced Salem, playfully mentioning, “Unlike Bam, let's say he's not very young”.
It wasn't exactly a lie – you had known Salem since you were a baby, and according to your aunts, Salem had been a cat for quite a long time.
Jungkook extended his tattooed hand towards you, curiosity dancing in his doe-like eyes. “Can I pet him?” The sudden closeness caught you off guard, but you managed to reply, “Sure. He's not aggressive.”
Jungkook's gentle strokes on your cat's dark fur left Salem completely enchanted, purring happily in your arms. “Apparently, he likes affection,” Jungkook observed, his eyes locking onto yours.
You smiled shyly, your pulse quickening. “No. He only likes you,” you shared, attempting to bring a lightness to the situation. “He doesn't like people very much. Hopefully, he can put up with Yoongi.”
Jungkook grinned at your words, and before temptation could take hold, you squeezed your cat and smoothed down your dress. “I think it's time to go,” you said casually, concealing any nervousness. “It was nice seeing you.”
Surprisingly, Jungkook seemed momentarily taken aback by your swift departure. “Oh sure!” His cheerful tone dimmed slightly. “I'm sorry about what happened with Bam. I hope you had a good afternoon.”
You nodded shyly, uncertain if another encounter with the sweaty yet undoubtedly attractive Jungkook would be good for your heart.
“Well, I guess I'll see you on Wednesday?” he suggested, subtly trying to delay your departure.
“On Wednesday?” you asked with a feigned innocence.
Jungkook chuckled. “I guess Yoongi hasn't told you yet. We're having a barbecue with friends to celebrate my return to the country. It's at my friend's house where I'm staying, just a few minutes from here.” He shared this with a shy smile, “You're invited; I hope you can make it.”
Despite the initial inclination to decline, Jungkook's charm left you powerless to resist his hopeful gaze. “Okay,” you agreed after a moment, pulling your gaze away from his eyes to survey the surroundings. “I'll see if I can come.”
Jungkook's smile persisted, seemingly undeterred by your attempt at resistance. “I'll look forward to it. It's going to be a blast.”
You chuckled nervously, “Don't set your expectations too high.”
Jungkook, still smiling, leaned in slightly and said, “Hey, it's going to be a fun time on Wednesday. Good food, good vibes. You gotta be there!”
You chuckled, “I'll think about it. Can't promise anything, though.”
Jungkook, with a playful grin, countered, “Come on, live a little. We didn't meet properly last time, but I think we'll get along. I already like your vibe, and I can see that Jimin and Yoongi adore you”
You raised an eyebrow, “My vibe, huh? Well, we'll see. No guarantees, though.”
Jungkook, keeping it light, gave a casual shrug, “Cool. Wednesday it is, then?”
Despite your initial resistance, Jungkook's carefree demeanor and magnetic aura prove to be a formidable combination. Succumbing to the easy flow of conversation and the genuine warmth he exudes, you find yourself nodding in agreement. “Sure, Wednesday it is,” you reply, trying to downplay the subtle thrill that creeps into your tone.
Jungkook's smile widens, a playful glint in his eyes. “Awesome! Can't wait to hang out. It's going to be a good time, I promise.”
Internally shaking your head at your unexpected change of heart, you shoot back, “Don't get too excited! I'm just there for the food.”
As you walked away, the realization dawned upon you – you were in deep trouble. The echoes of Jungkook's laughter lingered in your mind, and the casual commitment to a Wednesday gathering now felt like the first step into a maze of unpredictable emotions. Somehow, in that lighthearted exchange, you couldn't shake off the feeling that the road you were on might lead to a place where your carefully constructed emotional boundaries would be tested.
124 notes ¡ View notes
komoboko ¡ 1 month
Note
Sooooooo-
I've been stalking your blog- (mueheheh and I love your posts and writings 😭)
Can I request a kokushibo x Fem! Artist! Reader who often gets frustrated over little things whenever she messes her drawings up? And probably gives the most scary glares and annoyed looks. Meanwhile, he tries to comfort her.
Thank you! May you have a great day/night ahead!
Tumblr media
𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞
Tumblr media
kokushibo tsugikuni x gn!artist!reafer
This is set a little closer to when he was human so he can actually comprehend everything ur doing
Tumblr media
Kokushibo doesn’t understand why you’re so mad at first.
While he does not completely blame you, he’s only more confused on why you’re feeling this way. In some ways he can link your frustration to his.. “occupation” so he can sympathize and understand you more.
He can’t say he doesn’t get annoyed himself when he can’t kill a certain group of slayers in the time he pleased. Maybe another victim found their way around and ran off as the sun started to rise. Mistakes like that frustrate him to. Kokushibo just doesn’t understand why you’re so upset about the tiniest of things.
Let say you try to start a new painting and something slightly goes off of the pattern or escape the lines. You’ll scrap it with an irritated glance before staring again on the next canvas. Bits and pieces of left behind are over something so tiny scatter around everywhere.
Not only does he not like what you’re getting mad at, he does not like the storm that follows.
Your temper rises significantly, and the amount of evil glances that meet at least one of kokushibo eyes will make him close all six of them to avoid yours. There is much more passive aggressiveness to any word you say and overall just a force of nature to be around.
Your attitude reminds him of an open wound, when you first add treatment like alcohol, it begins to burn.
Of course after you just patch it up so it can heal.
The next time you try and discard another piece, kokushibo is there to stop you. You could only look up at him with confusion, you can’t say there was slight irritation behind your eyes. Nevertheless you let him speak before you said anything yourself.
“Why must you wear yourself down?” The six eyed demon asked. You don’t reply, your eyes only drift down towards the countless crumbled pieces of paper that scatter the floor. Kokushibo takes your silence as a proper response and sees fit to continue.
He blinks before picking up a crumbled piece of paper unfolding it for you to see. “Humans are always to stubborn.” He blurts out turning back to you and holding up the two copies of paper. “Nearly identical copies that any human wishes they could draw themselves. Yet you crumble and throw them away like nothing.”
You turn your eyes away either from shame or anger and irritation. The demon before you only stares at you a sigh escapes his lips trying to find the proper words to say. “Mortals like you always try to strive for perfection when you already have it.” You perk up hearing his words.
“Self perfection can lead to self destruction if you don’t bring yourself back to reality.” His words shiver ringing in your ear. It only brings you back to reality, harsh words that really have a sweet meaning underneath. Your eyes drift back to your art and then back to the discarded treasures that litter the floor.
Kokushibo noticing the glint in your eyes hesitates before stepping closer. Slowly wrapping his arms around you to bring you into his embrace. You lean into his surprising warmth he’s providing as a needed sigh finally escapes your lips.
“Thank you.” Is all your able to mutter before your head moves to the crook of his neck, his hand coming around to rub circles slowly on your back.
Kokushibo can’t help but feel a slight smile spread across his lips. While healing takes steps he finds some happiness that you’ve taken the first leap of faith.
Tumblr media
107 notes ¡ View notes
rzyraffek ¡ 7 months
Note
Platonic yandere yautja x human child reader
Aww dad yautja😊 I didn't write for yautjas in months!! Hopefully u enjoy it!! Also i used they/them for kid. No tw, only cuteness and wholesome dad figure yautja👹 request open
Dad yautja with human kid
Bro is confused ??? Tf??? Why is there a child here??
He either found them abandoned in middle of nowhere or accidentally killed their perents, by 'accidentaly' i mean ofc he wanted to kill them he just didn't know there was a child nearby and now he feels bad
Kinda finds human pups ugly😭 why are you so smol and loud wtf
Dad!yautja after he kinda adopts y/n he gets too overprotective! Like dude won't leave their side at all, especially when you guys are outside; dude will pick them up and just carry around.
Can't cook to save his life, he kinda set kitchen on fire. And humans cant eat raw meat, so now you are on fruit diet for now (and veggies)
Had this parental instinct to teach them everything, how to shoot, find food, basic self-defence, overall taking good care of themselfs. But he kinda likes that he has to provide for them, it gives him control yknow
When he carries them around everywhere! He acually lets them sit on his shoulders or just hang on his neck😓😍
Cant say no to those cute big eyes! Yes he will let them 'decorate' his armor (with glitter and stickers) and he will let them paint his nails and he will lisen to them gossip about their friends.
If his kid is a little artist and walks up to him and says "papa i drew you!" He does not care that he looks like a lizard nor that they didn't color it perfectly. Dude is purring, picking y/n up and he carries this drawing in pocket everywhere
Other yautjas say that he spoils them, but he disagrees! Your a HUMAN baby, i mean yeah your basically one of yautjas now but!!! Your tiny! And your skin is so squishy!!!
He had to learn how to comb their hair cuz at some point y/n simply refused to cut it (me too lil guy) and he respects them so much he won't just do something against them
Kinda wishes he could understand human body language more
Also about body language i can imagine kid just kinda mimicing yatuja body language and habits. Like dad!yatuja will say "child please go to bed its late" the kid will just angry respond with a hiss👹 "hsssss👽🦎" "?????" If yaujtas had eyebrows, he would rise them
If y/n is a girl, and she has her first period? Dude panics! HUHH WHAT BLOOD??? FROM WHERE!?? UHHHH????
Dude tries to be a perfect father figure, he tries to have similar intrests with his kid so they can connect more, but if y/n is totally not into hunting, collecting, nature themed stuff, Yautja is more than happy to catch up with whatever teens are into this days, but he will judge the hell out of tv shows (if they watch any)
I kinda forgot it suppose to be yandere so it turned out to be just wholesome im so sorry
Understands that kid needs privacy but he will just go invisible mode and lurk in shadows! Like what if somone attacks you??? Or worse! What if you meet some humans that he doenst like??? What if they will tell y/n all lies about what 'bad war crimes' he commited and what 'murderous' his kind is!! Those are lies pls dont lisen to humans
No boy/girlfriends!!! Nuh uh!! Your his little baby you cant go doing all those... things... with some human. ugh! this person probably can't even hunt for you!! Or give you nice treasures!! Or build a pretty nest!! Why would you like them my child?? Look at all those trophies i gathered for all those years! You should stay here!
He loves the fact that he lives in some wild ass jungle and y/n cant leave him due to all those dangers around, plus he loves that y/n will always stay tiny(in comparison obviously) and weak so be basically needs to provide for them! Right???
I used x reader tags ONLY to reach bigger audience
251 notes ¡ View notes
historianthesecond ¡ 8 months
Note
hi!!!!! i was wondering if you could do a nikolai/reader fic that is similar to the rain scene (or, frankly, i'd be good with any scene) from the notebook:
the reader and nikolai had young summer love, then were separated for a long time, but both kept writing letters for years that were intercepted and never recieved. it all leads up to the angry/yearning argument in the rain where they say it still "isn't over" and some not-so safe for work activities follow.
again, just using the scene as a general guide but it doesn't have to be super similar. (hope that was at least somewhat cohesive and you know what I'm talking about. sorry for the rambling, i've just had this idea for so long and am super excited about it lol) tysm!!! <3
Hi! AAAAAAAA I'm so sorry I'm just answering this ask 😭😭 adult life sucks but anyway. I rewatched the movie now that you reminded me of that scene and yeah 1000% worthy it. I hope you like it! :D
I cut this fic in two parts, because the next one is going to be NSFW, so y'all can read the fluffly part without the filth 🥺👉👈 also because my smut scenes are so long for some reason, and it gets hard to edit 🤡
For All Those Memories We Tuck Away;
Nikolai Lantsov x Fem!Reader-----3K-----SFW
Tags: Childhood Friends| Childhood Sweethearts| Love Confession| Light Angst, Mostly Fluff| A pinch of Yearning| It gets horny at the end but not too much so don't worry|
It had always been strange; like a thread that tugged down his heart every time he sensed your presence; familiar footsteps echoing in the hallways, chirping voices flowing through an open window as you walked toward the palace’s entrance.
Nikolai swept his gaze around the ballroom, catching a flash of your hair moving between a myriad of swirling bodies, your figure walking away from where he was talking with one Kerch merchant and his insisting wife that was trying to drag him toward one of their daughters, who was eagerly waiting for a dancing partner.
When he was younger, a childish part of him imagined that perhaps it was that both your hearts were linked by a thread, like the folktales about soulmates.
Now it would have been more of a coincidence.
He raised his empty glass of wine, playing with the delicate stem between his fingers. “If you’d excuse me,” Nikolai said once the merchant stopped talking to take a breath. “I’m afraid my feet are sore today; I wouldn’t wish to give a bad impression to your lovely daughter.” His hands gestured away toward the table filled with pastries and desserts. “I’ll go fetch another drink. In the meantime, please enjoy.”
Nikolai slipped between the crowd before someone could grab him back by the arm, his neck tilted upwards to scan the room, wishing to see another glimpse of you, or else, he’d thought it was a fantasy.
It wouldn’t have been the first time he imagined you, hoping to see you walking in the courtyard again, lounging in the garden, near the fountain, hands busy as you braid a flower crown. Bumping into you in a corner of the hallway, with your eyes lost in the flicking details of the sunlight reflecting in the decorations of the palace’s walls.
Just a painted reverie, hidden, ruined beneath layers of regrets and missteps overlayed over the decade that set you both apart. Grey and brown with the marks of ash and mud from the battlefield, streams of black ink dripping from crumbled paper’s edges, messy calligraphy from writing down on his knees. Streaks of green and blue of the open sea and the bright sky, the white of the paper replaced by maps and sails.
Nikolai forgot you, or so he pretended. Another distant memory of the past, from those fleeting moments when he felt happier, lighter as he bathed in the soft sound of your laugh.
He trailed down the path he saw you slipping into before, the longing sound of your giggle reverberating in a corner of the ballroom, frozen in all those occasions Nikolai had cracked a silly joke. Only that this time, he wasn’t the one amusing you.
His steps halted, jaw stiffened at the thought of him peeking out into the exit staircase only to see you chatting with another nobleman to which you'd surely be already engaged, if not married.
Curiosity will always take the best of him because he couldn't just walk away. For the first time in years, you were so close—only a door away, almost—but to him felt as if an unsurmountable abyss had opened in the marble floor.
His hand took the handle, turning it slightly. Cold wind blew in the hallway from the open entrance gates. He saw the rosewood hues of your skirt over the steps, your back mid-turned toward him as you waved goodbye to the Count’s only daughter.
Like a spring, your eyes settled on him before he could even conceal his staring.
Not like he could, of course, his eyes hoping to take you in every detail, as if that way Nikolai could engrave you, this new you, with your adult features, into his mind forever.
You looked away; the moment so fleeting that the Count’s daughter didn’t even notice. “Promise you’ll come to my tea party on Thursday?” she was saying, already crossing the entrance threshold.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” you replied with a chuckle, steps elegantly descending the stairs when your friend left, your body disappearing from his view as you tried to put as much distance as possible.
Nikolai opened his mouth, but for the first time in so long, words just wouldn’t come out. He darted down the stairs as he did when he was a boy—good thing nobody was looking at this unroyal attitude—, his boots muffled by the carpet.
Saying your name brought a strange sensation in his mouth, like a prayer gone awry. It echoed in the stillness of the foyer; and he repeated it, louder this time. "Wait!"
From the direction toward the former Queen’s gardens, your silhouette flicked between the shadows and glinting gold from the dusk reflected in the canopy, your back still turned toward him, shoulders slightly hunched.
Nikolai breathed your name, voice so low he thought he imagined it, his hand hovering on empty air as if trying to reach you, to gather the courage and jump the evident rift that set you apart.
You looked from above your shoulder. “Yes, Your Majesty?”
He stood there, mid-hallway, hands clenched in a futile attempt to appear calm. "You came."
From the myriad of invitations sent, he didn’t even waste energy in imagining you would assist at the ball, not when you had missed his coronation ceremony months ago.
“Elena told me I can’t hide from the King of Rakva forever," you said, settling on the corner against the wall, the wind carrying away the essence of summer flowers in Plein bloom. "It brings a bad reputation upon our house."
Elena, your sister-in-law. Nikolai had heard of your mother's passing during times of the civil war, but up until that moment, he never remembered before to at least send his condolences, even if your mother was never a fan of his despite his endless charm.
Nikolai doubted his mother the Queen would have confessed to yours the real nature of his real relationship to the Lantsov bloodline, no matter how close the two seemed to be, but your mother had given you your sharp wit. It wouldn't be so far-fetched for her to have to guess it on her own.
He walked toward you, eyes gazing at your hands, bare fingers. You noticed, hiding them behind your back in a swift movement.
“Would you like to come with me on a walk through the garden?” Nikolai said, his arm extended toward you. “I would be honored to have your company.” After so long, he wished to say, but couldn’t. It could have sounded like a reproach, and he didn’t wish to bare laid that hurtful part of him that was convinced of your oblivion.
You met his gaze, observing his smile that tried to be charming only to notice the slight tremor on his lips.
“I can’t deny a request from Your Majesty,” you replied, stomach fluttering as if you hadn’t matured at all when you grazed your hand on his arm.
“Then I should have sent to your residence a marriage proposal instead of the invitation for a ball,” Nikolai found himself saying, the words escaping before he could think of the consequences. A result of the old times, he supposed.
You feigned a chuckle. “Your Majesty is very funny.” Like always, hung on the charged air between you two.
“I’m flattered. Though it has its downsides, as you can observe. People usually assume I’m joking.” He observed the way your footsteps guided you down the path, barely an afterthought as your graze hand poked the flowers in bloom, your brows slightly pinched in focus as if you were arranging flower decorations in your head.  “When I’m not.”
You looked at him from the corner of your eye, lips in a neutral line. “Unless you’re still engaged to that gentleman... Mr. Komary?”
You gazed away, cheeks hot from embarrassment. It wasn’t a secret that the only reason you weren’t engaged ever since you were children was because of your mother and her terrible way with lies.
Instead of telling the former Queen that she wasn’t interested in marrying her only daughter to a possible bastard, she had told her that you were already promised to a kid in the Wandering Isle. Family so discreetly that nobody could get a hold of his existence.
“I’m just here because it would be good to make acquaintance with the future queen,” you replied, your tone very monotone, eyes drawn in a far part of the garden, on white walls covered with vines, violet flowers like trumpets contrasting vividly against the marble. “I would like to honor my mother’s place as lady-in-waiting.”
It shouldn't have hurt this much, thinking that Nikolai had assumed the same ever since years ago. But it did, like the ghost of his first shooting wound, right in the chest. Seemingly mortal, though not really.
The sky was getting darker, clouds hiding the last rays of sunlight as the cold wind blew between the bushes, whispering a clatter of remembrances of two happy children laying on the grass and of giggling teenagers running away from the guards, heading toward the lake with the tail of your dress half-smoked thanks to one of Nikolai’s new inventions.
“And what about us?” Nikolai said because he had learned to play all his cards, to seize every opportunity. “Have you considered it’s better not to keep our promise?”
“Don’t worry about it,” you cut in, your lips curved in a sour smile. “We were just kids back then. You can move on.”
“Have you move on?” he couldn’t stop himself from saying.
You didn’t answered, so he stopped in the middle of the cobblestone path despite the drizzle starting to soak into his jacket, your hand falling limp at your side. “I’ve always thought that kids’ love is the most unconditional kind.” His eyes warmed you from the cold rain starting to embed on your skin. “Don’t you think so?”
You felt a familiar knot in your throat, hoping that he couldn't see the red on the whites of your eyes.
“You forgot about me,” you said in a whisper, scared that if you talked too loud, your voice would break. “You never wrote to me—you can’t say that. You have no right!” you shouted, embarrassed for your outburst when in your mind everything was already settled.
Nikolai furrowed, his hair starting to stick to his forehead. “I wrote you for months—so much I got a bump on my finger.”
You huffed, arms crossed over your chest. “You’d always have that bump,” you replied. “You write too forcefully, that’s why you can’t draw.”
He copied your stance. “I draw my inventions’ blueprints quite masterfully, in case you don’t remember.”
You scrunched your nose like a bunny, and despite his irritation, Nikolai had the urge to lean in and kiss you, knowing that your pout would disappear. “I mean artistically. You could never draw me.”
Nikolai couldn’t stop the smile from escaping his lips. "Perhaps we should give it another try," he said, his hand touching your chin, his eyes drawn to yours. “Sitting in that big red velvet chair with uncomfortable rest, chin up to stop the crown from slipping out your pretty head.”
“My hands would get too clammy from holding the orb and the scepter," you said from memory. “The orb would fall from my hands, and I would get indebted to the royal family forever.”
“The King wouldn’t mind,” he assured you. “He has a soft spot for you, I’ve heard. Always have,” Nikolai muttered, crooning his neck down toward you.
He could feel the warmth of your skin, the sweet essence of your hair that had become more citric than floral, and the way your eyes traveled from his eyes to his lips.
“I wrote you about each dusk I could see without buildings covering the view, hoping that it wouldn’t be the last,” he said in a mutter despite the rain surrounding you. “About how I dreamt of you, imagining that you lulled me with that little song you liked to hum when you were bored—to keep the nightmares away. How the fields covered in dandelions and sunflowers remembered me of you." He chuckled a strained sound. "How can you believe I never write you? You've sieged my mind ever since I have memory of our first encounter. Everything calls back to you.”
He rummaged inside the inner pocket of his jacket, getting out a tiny, disheveled pony figure between his fingers. It had been once white with black hair, a blue saddle decorated with painted daisies. But time had worn it out, brown spots of the wood peeking between the paint.
The silly but sincere gift of a young girl. Your favorite miniature horse toy to accompany him on the battlefield, just as his gift would stay with you on those slow nights of study in the emptiness of your bedroom.
"How could I ever forget you when you're always near my heart?" Nikolai muttered, passing a thumb around your cheek, feeling the warmth of your tears against the pad of his finger. “How could I let you go when this isn’t over for me?”
You smiled, your trembling finger passing through the figurine. “That’s Pearl.” From between the pocket hidden in your skirts, you produced a wooden soldier with its broken rifle—from that time Nikolai toppled it off from his balcony.
“You still have my little friend,” he said in a whisper that was meant to be a chuckle, but now strained.
“I couldn’t throw him away,” you muttered, barely holding back a sob. “He would feel very lonely.”
A lonely soldier that had become a lonely king.
Nikolai enveloped you into his arms, pushing you against a wall to alleviate the force of the raindrops all over your soaked hair; lips hungrily seeking yours to try and make up for the time he had spent imagining how a kiss from you would feel if it would taste like wine and chocolate pastries you had been eaten at the party. You gasped into his mouth, and for a second, he thought you'd push him away.
But instead, your arms hung around his neck, and he started swaying you from side to side as you cried against his chest. “Saints… I missed you so much.”
“I’m sorry, Kolya,” you said, voice muffled against his soaked coat. “I should’ve tried harder. I shouldn’t have believed Mother about your lack of letters. I’m sorry.”
His laughter rumbled on his chest down your cheeks, which made you smile despite your teary eyes.
“We were both very foolish and young to know any better,” Nikolai drew circles on your back. “A clear sign that we’re a perfect match, don’t you agree?”
"I thought a King ought to be wise," you couldn't stop teasing him.
He nudged you closer. “That’s why I need a Queen like you at my side, my lovely.” Nikolai kissed you again, convinced he wouldn’t get tired of it. Because how could he? It was one of his dreams coming true. “What do you say? Should I duel Mr. Komary? I’m an outstanding swordsman. An excellent shot.”
You smiled, hands brushing away the locks that had started to cover his eyes. “Good to know you’re as humble as ever.”
Nikolai winked. “Just another one of my long list of qualities.”
“I don’t think my brother would say no to you if you propose,” you said between the rumble of thunder in the distance, refuged between his warm arms. “Hypothetically, Ally would love to have an excuse to visit your workshop.”
“Only hypothetically, of course. I would be delighted to show him around.” He smiled. “Is he still interested in terrestrial transportation? I'm sure I can convince you to look elsewhere, like up, maybe.”
“You’re more excited to see my brother,” you feigned an offended pout. “Perhaps you should marry him instead?”
Nikolai shook his head, stealing a kiss from your lips as he chuckled. “I couldn’t win a duel against Lady Elena. She’s a scary one.”
“And I’m not?” you said, trying to push him away when the cold of the wall stuck to the wet bodice of the dress.
“I’m sorry, my flower, but no.” He took one of your legs up, so you could tangle them around his waist, allowing him to dip his head lower and kiss you even more. “You’re like a bunny. My adorable bunny.”
“Bunnies bite,” you replied after your round of kisses was over, tiptoeing to nibble at his lower lip just for a moment.
He looked at you, eyes filled with both love and desire in the way they got framed by his lashes. “By all means, do it again,” he said, which made you laugh. One of his hands slipped on your bottom, and you yelped. “But not here. Hold still.”
Nikolai walked back to the rain, both hands holding you closer to his chest as your legs hugged his waist.
“What are you doing?!” you whispered against his ear, arms around his neck as you bounced up and down with each one of his strides, trying to ignore the heat pooling down your stomach at feeling his warmth body through the wet layers of fabric.
"I'm carrying my beautiful fiancé to my chambers to dry her off, of course." The rain echoed on the roof of the private wing of the Grand Palace, and you couldn't stop from burying your head in the crook of his neck at seeing the guards flanking every other entrance. “I wouldn’t like her to end with a cough that could delay our wedding.”
You felt your cheeks hot despite the sudden trembles traveling down your body. “To your chambers? That’s very inappropriate.”
Nikolai kissed your cheek. “I don’t hear you complaining,” he said with a clear note of amusement in his voice. “Don’t worry. We’re almost there.” Another kiss, this one falling behind your ear. “I’ll make sure to warm you up whole, my lovely.”
164 notes ¡ View notes