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janetushar1 · 26 days ago

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TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market to Hit $2.94 Billion by 2032

The global TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market was valued at USD 1.82 Billion in 2024 and it is estimated to garner USD 2.94 Billion by 2032 with a registered CAGR of 6.16% during the forecast period 2024 to 2032.

The report throws light on the competitive scenario of the global TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market to know the competition at global levels. Market experts also provided the outline of each leading player of the global TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market for the market, considering the key aspects such as the areas of operation, production, and product portfolio. In addition, the companies in the report are studied based on vital factors such as company size, market share, market growth, revenue, production volume, and profit.

The global TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market is fragmented with various key players. Some of the key players identified across the value chain of the global TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market include Coim Group, API, Huntsman International LLC, Covestro AG, Suzhou Ruigao New Material Co. Ltd, Suzhou Austin Novel Materials Co. Ltd, Mitsui Chemicals Inc., BASF SE, The Lubrizol Corporation, Sumei Chemical Co. Ltd, Huafon Group, Wanhua Chemical Group Co.Ltd. etc. Considering the increasing demand from global markets various new entries are expected in the TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market at regional as well as global levels.

Download TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market Sample Report PDF: https://www.vantagemarketresearch.com/tpu-material-for-car-air-mattress-market-0554/request-sample

Top Competitors:

Coim Group, API, Huntsman International LLC, Covestro AG, Suzhou Ruigao New Material Co. Ltd, Suzhou Austin Novel Materials Co. Ltd, Mitsui Chemicals Inc., BASF SE, The Lubrizol Corporation, Sumei Chemical Co. Ltd, Huafon Group, Wanhua Chemical Group Co.Ltd.

Understanding the Industry's Growth, has released an Updated report on the TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market. The report is mixed with crucial market insights that will support the clients to make the right business decisions. This research will help new players in the global TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market to sort out and study market needs, market size, and competition. The report provides information on the supply and market situation, the competitive situation and the challenges to the market growth, the market opportunities, and the threats faced by the major players.

Regional Analysis

-North America [United States, Canada, Mexico]

-South America [Brazil, Argentina, Columbia, Chile, Peru]

-Europe [Germany, UK, France, Italy, Russia, Spain, Netherlands, Turkey, Switzerland]

-Middle East & Africa [GCC, North Africa, South Africa]

-Asia-Pacific [China, Southeast Asia, India, Japan, Korea, Western Asia]

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Full Analysis Of The TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market:

Key findings and recommendations point to vital progressive industry trends in the global TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market, empowering players to improve effective long-term policies.

The report makes a full analysis of the factors driving the development of the market.

Analyzing the market opportunities for stakeholders by categorizing the high-growth divisions of the market.

Questions answered in the report

-Who are the top five players in the global TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market?

-How will the global TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market change in the next five years?

-Which product and application will take the lion's share of the global TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market?

-What are the drivers and restraints of the global TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market?

-Which regional market will show the highest growth?

-What will be the CAGR and size of the global TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market during the forecast period?

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Reasons to Purchase this TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market Report:

-Analysis of the market outlook on current trends and SWOT analysis.

-The geographic and country level is designed to integrate the supply and demand organizations that drive industry growth.

-TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Industry dynamics along with market growth opportunities in the coming years.

-TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market value (million USD) and volume (million units) data for each segment and sub-segment.

1 year consulting for analysts along with development data support in Excel. Competitive landscape including market share of major players along with various projects and strategies adopted by players in the last five years.

Market segmentation analysis including qualitative and quantitative analysis including the impact on financial and non-economic aspects.

Complete company profiles that include performance presentations, key financial overviews, current developments, SWOT analyzes and strategies used by major TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market players.

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#TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market #TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market 2024 #Global TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market #TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market outlook #TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market Trend #TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market Size & Share #TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market Forecast #TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market Demand #TPU Material for Car Air Mattress Market sales & price

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aarunresearcher · 4 months ago

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The increasing awareness about the importance of quality sleep for overall health is inducing consumers to invest in high-quality mattresses, thereby driving the market growth of mattress in the United States. In addition to this, the growth in the housing market is catalyzing the demand for new mattresses

#United States Mattress Market #United States Mattress Market size #United States Mattress Market share #United States Mattress Market trends #United States Mattress Market forcast #United States Mattress Market 2024 #United States Mattress Market 2032

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futuretonext · 1 year ago

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The Global Smart Mattress Market is projected to grow at a CAGR of around 17.49% during the forecast period, i.e., 2022-27.

#Smart Mattress Market #Smart Mattress Market growth #Smart Mattress Market industry #Smart Mattress Market share

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databridgemarket456 · 2 years ago

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#Air Mattress Market Size #Share & Growth with Forecast #2028 #Air Mattress Market #Air Mattress Market scope #Air Mattress Market size #Air Mattress Marketshare

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seoulmatez · 1 year ago

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୨♡୧ SWEET NOTHINGS — aftercare with the hq boys.

featuring. miya osamu, suna rintaro, ushijima wakatoshi, sakusa kiyoomi

warnings. f!reader, no explicit smut (still, mdni), food (not used sexually), implied creampie, bathing together, tons of after-sex intimacy. all characters written 18+.

₊˚ପ⊹ MIYA OSAMU

osamu is a firm believer that the best thing one can do for their body after any strenuous activity, including sex, is to replenish it with food before allowing it to rest. he feeds you often but something feels different about doing the same thing only after sex. it makes for a much more intimate scene, he thinks, being able to share food with his lover after being so vulnerable with each other. it’s yet another way of showing his love for you.

• • •

“what’s on today’s menu?” you ask, sitting up as osamu returns from his quick venture to the kitchen. from behind his back, he reveals the carton of strawberries the two of you picked out from the market this morning. he gently shakes the container, “these sound good?”

you nod enthusiastically, waving him over to join you in bed. his feet carry him to the mattress and he plops down next to you with a comfortable sigh. you watch patiently as he pops open the plastic, fingers hovering above the fruit in search of the best of the batch. he picks the prettiest one he can find and holds the berry out to you, the palm of his other hand facing up beneath the first to serve as a sort of plate. “say ‘ah,’” he opens his mouth, hoping you’ll do the same.

a smile breaks out across your face before you follow his lead and open your mouth to take a bite. you hum as your cheeks tingle and the tartness of the fruit explodes on your tongue. osamu chuckles at your innocent reaction. it takes a moment before he becomes aware of the red-tinted juice dripping down his fingers. he pops them into his mouth before the trail of liquid can travel any farther, smiling around them as you happily bounce up and down on the bed.

₊˚ପ⊹ SUNA RINTARO

he’s never been one to take anything in life too seriously, but you’re one of the few exceptions to his carefree and jovial approach to living. sex with suna is rarely demanding but always passionate. even though he isn’t a particularly rough lover, rintaro acknowledges that you deserve some tending to after making love. in an attempt to keep the mood light, he keeps up his silly antics even while he’s taking care of you.

• • •

“nice game, mvp,” suna quips as he hands you the cold bottle of water he just grabbed from the fridge. a cheeky grin pulls at his lips upon seeing the way your eyebrows furrow while you take a swig of the beverage. you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before sarcastically responding, “your lame charm never fails to make me swoon.”

“you love it,” he argues, taking a seat on the edge of bed the beside you. you turn to him to find a pair of dull yellow eyes already staring back at you. suna smiles before leaning forward to cup your cheek and slot his lips against yours. the kiss is soft and slow, a perfect culmination to an exhausting night. despite his inability to take most things seriously, moments like these are all you need to know that, deep down, suna really cares about you. he pulls away with another of his signature smiles, his thumb and index finger pinching your cheek. “ready to hit the showers?”

you scoff, playfully slapping his hand away. “i can’t believe i let you have sex with me.”

₊˚ପ⊹ USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

his touch is gentle and tender; it drastically differs from how he was handling you only moments ago. even though the two versions of wakatoshi are stark contrasts of each other, you’re more than familiar with the soft side of him that emerges after the both of you are worn out and sticky with each other’s cum. words of praise accompany every calculated stroke of the damp, warm washcloth he uses to clean you up.

• • •

“i wasn’t too rough, was i?” ushijima asks as he makes his way back to where you lie, returning from grabbing a few things from the bathroom. he settles on the mattress beside you with a couple of damped towels. dark olive eyes fall on you and you shake your head to gesture that you’re fine.

he nods, taking one of the folded cloths to pat away the sweat from your forehead. nimble fingers brush away any stray strands of hair sticking to your face and you lean into the warmth of his touch. a small smile graces his lips upon seeing how content you are. as much as he’d love to spend the rest of the night with you in his arms, he has to finish getting you cleaned up.

reluctantly, wakatoshi pulls his hand away and reaches for another clean rag. he uses this one to carefully wipe any of the sticky release off of your thighs. you twitch at the contact, still sensitive from your previous activities. he’s told you many times before, but ushijima will never tire saying it. “you did so well, pretty girl.”

₊˚ପ⊹ SAKUSA KIYOOMI

the first thing he does as soon as you both finish is ask how you’re feeling; if you’re alright. as pleasurable as sex is, it can be just as fatiguing. no matter your answer, sakusa’s routine rarely strays; there’s always a warm bath with essential oils waiting for you on nights when the two of you end up naked and tangled in each other’s arms. his ultimate goal is to help you wind down and assure that you’re comfortable.

• • •

“feeling okay?” sakusa’s voice, albeit fairly quiet, startles you. the soft rumble you feel transfer from his chest to your back is somehow simultaneously surprising and comforting. it wasn’t difficult to begin to drift off in the tub filled with warm, bubbly water, the scent of lavender wafting throughout the steamy air.

you hum in satisfaction, letting your eyelids flutter closed once more. you won’t fall asleep this time. “better than okay.”

kiyoomi can hear the exhaustion lingering in your voice. he can feel you melting into it under the pads of his fingers as he massages the supple skin of your thighs. he finished washing you up a few minutes ago but you looked so tranquil that he couldn’t find it in him to move you. you’ll have to get out soon if you don’t want your skin to grow pruney, but sakusa decides to warrant you and himself a little longer in your peaceful bubble.

strong arms pull you closer into his chest, sending a ripple throughout the water. he rests his chin on your shoulder, pressing a light kiss to the pulse on your throat. you giggle, wet hand breaking the surface to cradle the side of his face. “perfect,” you whisper.

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #osamu x reader #suna x reader #ushijima x reader #sakusa x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #osamu smut #suna smut #ushijima smut #sakusa smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #𐙚 after hours

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sorcerous-caress · 7 months ago

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I'm so jealous of Daniil. Having only played the Haruspex route so far in both game, each time I'm invited to the Bachelor's place I turn green with envy at how he resides at an actual proper house with a real room and a real bed.

A real bed with a whole bedframe. A pillow with an actual pillowcase!! His bed even has sheets!

He has WINDOWS. His house is in a nice neighbourhood, and his roommate is a very attractive woman. There is actual furniture in his room. Not one hint of fungus growing on the walls or rust!

Can you imagine living there as your lair? Spending the whole game knowing you have a real house with a real bed to go back to at the end of each night? Seeing Eva's face every day before leaving to do quests?

Meanwhile, Artemy is stuck in this dumpster room of an abandoned factory. Cuddling with rats on his makeshift bed, held by nothing but a wooden panel, some boxes and a dream.

A pillow so yellow it has its own ecosystem where bugs established real estate. Is that even a pillow or is it some random rock Artemy found and chucked in there? Is it a stale loaf of bread?? Why is it hard looking?

But no, you don't even get to keep the rock roach pillow because in P2, they take it away.

Fuck you Artemy, you had it good for too long. No pillow now because what are you gonna do about it?. Fold your mattress instead to have a resemblance of a faux sense of protection under your most vital organ during the long hours of death rehearsal that you call sleep.

Somehow, they made the bed even more unstable looking. As if that thin panel in the middle could hold Artemy's weight without caving in. Oh, and apparently, I ran out of boxes to use for furniture because the bed and the table have to share custody of the same box.

We have downgraded into barrels now, as you can see :) No, I don't know what they used to contain inside.

Waking up every day to Sticky's snotty face telling me not to spit in the wind and nagging me about cleaning up the week-old human organs thrown around that are stinking up the place.

THERE IS MOLD GROWING ON MY WALLS. RUST FLAKES FALL FROM THE EXPOSED METAL PIPES DOWN INTO MY CEREAL EACH BREAKFAST.

This single wall holds so much mold and fungus that they started crossbreeding and evolved into new, never seen before types of bacteria. Satan's asscrack is more hygienic than whatever biohazard plagues of Egypt this slab of concrete contains.

I live in the gutters. My only neighbours are an illegal gang of minors with a hatred for furries and another illegal gang but of adults this time who sell me bullets way above the market price. A dangerous neighbourhood where you can't have shit because SOMEONE STOLE MY BULL.

The basement I reside in has no windows, the smell is pungent and fucking vile down here. There isn't even a space for a bathroom.

This is my kitchenette/bathroomette/showerette/cupboardette/surgery tools disinfection stationette/sinkette/watercoolerette/toilette/fridge.

also my buckets yk.

One bucket for the makeshift bathroom, another for holding important organs and loose guts during surgery, a third one as a cooking pot for making tasty meat grub soup and the final one for murky water after sweeping the floor.

What do I use to tell them apart? Oh nothing :) I just mix em up every now and then, oppsie daisy.

Oh and the floors are CONSTANTLY wet for some reason. Yeah sticky slipped and almost broke his neck the other day so watch your steps.

There is also this eerie room with literal garbage and broken furniture right next to the entrance. Don't worry about it, sometimes I hear someone crying and screaming for help when I'm trying to go to sleep but it's just the factory being silly lol.

Now this? This is where the M A G I C happens. This is where Artemy the Menkhu makes his famous herbal remedies and natural mixtures. This is where the Panacea for the infamous sand plague gets made!

In a rusty empty food can.

Falling into a bucket with shit stains.

MEDICINE BABBYYY. GET YOUR WEAK SOFT BONED ASS BACK TO THE CAPITAL BITCH, THIS IS HOW REAL MEN MAKE REAALLL MEDICINE!! RAWRRRRR🦅🦅💥💥

Meanwhile, dickovsky has the view of the cathedral and polyhedron just around the corner from where he resides. He has a backyard with a lake, and all I have is a swamp behind my basement. I trudge through the mud each night, collecting weeds and herbs to mix and trade so I and the two orphans who adopted themselves into my life don't go starving.

Not to mention the gaggles of herb brides loitering outside and giving me a false bad reputation.

That dandy douchbag has a pharmacy, a grocery, and a tailor right next door. The closest establishment to my shrekcore place of resident is a dingy basement bar with shady drinks and no bouncer to check for ID, I saw two kids in there once.

Pov: a qt3.14 surgeon says his dad isn't home and invites you over.

#♡otherfandoms #♡pathologic 2 #♡pathologic #artemy burakh #daniil dankovsky #pathologic 2 #pathologic classic hd #the haruspex #pathologic

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mordormr · 2 months ago

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European Mattress Market 2024: Key Trends Shaping Consumer Preferences

Market Overview

The Europe Mattress Market is projected to be valued at USD 11.19 billion in 2024 and is anticipated to grow to USD 13.20 billion by 2029, with a CAGR of over 3.5% during the forecast period (2024-2029). The market in 2024 is expected to be shaped by several key trends that reflect evolving consumer preferences, according to market research from Mordor Intelligence. These trends are driven by a growing awareness of health and wellness, an emphasis on sustainability, and the increasing demand for smart technologies.

European Mattress Market Key Trends:

Health and Wellness Focus: Consumers are prioritizing sleep quality as a critical component of overall well-being, leading to a growing demand for ergonomic and orthopedically designed mattresses. This trend has particularly influenced the rise in sales of memory foam and hybrid mattresses, which offer better support for spine alignment and improved sleep posture. The increased focus on sleep health is encouraging mattress companies to invest in innovations that enhance comfort and support.

Sustainability and Eco-Friendly Materials: Sustainability continues to be a significant factor driving consumer behavior in 2024. European customers are actively seeking eco-friendly mattresses made from organic, biodegradable, or recyclable materials. There is a growing preference for products that minimize environmental impact, such as natural latex, organic cotton, and bamboo fibers. Mattress manufacturers are also adopting sustainable practices, including the reduction of carbon emissions and the recycling of used mattresses, in line with stricter EU environmental regulations.

Smart and Connected Mattresses: The integration of smart technology in mattresses is revolutionizing the industry. In 2024, connected mattresses with features like sleep tracking, temperature control, and customizable firmness are gaining traction. These smart mattresses cater to the rising demand for personalized sleep solutions, providing real-time data to improve sleep quality and comfort. The trend aligns with the broader shift toward smart home products and connected devices in Europe.

Online Sales and DTC (Direct-to-Consumer) Models: The shift to online shopping continues to grow as consumers increasingly opt for direct-to-consumer mattress brands that offer convenience, competitive pricing, and home delivery. These brands often provide free trial periods, which appeal to consumers looking to test products before making a final decision. The rise of e-commerce has also created more competition in the market, with established brands adapting to this growing channel.

Luxury and Premium Mattresses: A segment of consumers is willing to invest in premium mattresses, seeking high-quality materials, advanced technology, and longer product life. These luxury products often come with enhanced features, such as superior craftsmanship, natural materials, and advanced sleep systems. This trend is particularly prevalent in more affluent regions of Europe.

Market Outlook:

The European mattress market in 2024 is expected to continue its steady growth, supported by these key trends. The focus on health, sustainability, and smart technologies is reshaping consumer preferences, leading to more innovation and competition in the market. Brands that can align with these preferences and provide a combination of quality, sustainability, and technology are likely to capture a significant share of the market.

For a detailed overview and more insights, you can refer to the full market research report by Mordor Intelligence: https://www.mordorintelligence.com/industry-reports/europe-mattress-market

#European mattress market #European mattress market size #European mattress market share #European mattress market trends #European mattress market growth #mordorintelligence #marketresearchreports

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allthecanadianpolitics · 6 months ago

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As the province's average rent price for a one-bedroom apartment continues to creep above a range many of us can reasonably afford on our own, landlords continue to search for alarming ways to appeal to prospective tenants who might be strapped for cash.

Adjust your filters on rental websites like Facebook Marketplace or Kijiji, and you're bound to come across at least a handful of listings that fully invade the tenant's privacy.

In just the past year, landlords have gone to great lengths to earn additional income, including stuffing mattresses at the tops of staircases, renting out beds smack dab in the middle of kitchens, and even packing room to the brim with shared bunk beds.

The latest disturbing listing to emerge out of Ontario's rental market is a shared room in Kitchener for $485 per month for one male, or $450 for a couple.

The listing boasts the home's proximity to transit connection points, but glosses over the fact that tenants will have to share beds within less than a foot of each other.

Full article

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

#cdnpoli #canada #canadian politics #canadian news #canadian #housing #landlords #rent #ontario #kitchener #housing crisis

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otkuhotgirl · 3 months ago

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─── 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐎𝐍 .

# with : black-leg sanji.

at last, having been granted enough privacy, following your lover’s catastrophically failed wedding, you’re determined to remind him who he belongs to.

⎰ & smut. post whole-cake island. sub!sanji. amazon position. oral (reader receiving). dom!reader. pathetic sanji (😍). praise kink. fem!reader. no y/n used.

W.C: 4K.

sanji prided himself in a select — yet useful — number of crafts. he was a terrific chef. he had an innate talent to find the ripest fruits at the street market. he had muscular legs and quite a vast list of attacks. and the most important of them all: he turned out to be a master in pleasuring his woman. one could count the manner with which he treated women in general, yet upon learning of his love, sanji had ceased to flirt without a purpose, rather focusing on the one whose finger he meant to put on a ring one day.

by the end of those miserable two years of training — apart from those he cherished, running without a second of rest —, sanji was thrilled to, at last, reencounter his crewmates. it was enough a blessing to bear witness to nami and robin’s perfection, yet nothing had prepared him to the sight of you, a breathing deity; the epitome of all that was sacred. and when his captain proudly stated that you were given the allowance of your empress to join his crew? sanji learned of heaven.

it proved to be a complicated task — earning the trust of a kuja, as a man. particularly because, upon first meeting the strawhats, your idea of the behavior of a man was based on luffy. and luffy was far from normal.

nevertheless, sanji had refused to quit. he memorized your favorite dishes and introduced you to ones you never had; he paid attention to your stories; he seeked you out amidst the others. at first, it was mere attraction — born from the idealization of the island of women and the warriors born and raised in amazon lily. however, soon enough, sanji was left dumbfounded at the realization that he fell for you — and hard —, during those shared moments.

luckily for him, it seemed that the kuja were also prone to falling madly in love in a scarce interval of time.

being your partner was the biggest marvel of his life, and quite the accomplishment of one of the wildest dreams of a clear pervert — to teach his partner the wonders of sexual endeavors and to be aware of the fact that she’d learn it all from him. sanji adored the thought of being your first — and only —, as you were his as well. sex began with its rough patches due to mutual inexperience, and your absolute cluelessness regarding a man’s intimacy and even the act of masturbation, yet time proved itself to be a blessing; you caught on to the act pretty quickly, learning of his most sensitive spots and taking advantage of them during those intimate moments.

sanji was on top during the first instances, his experience — consisting of porn magazines and eavesdropping on past conversations at the baratie — gave him the upper ground. yet, as your confidence grew with repetition, sanji found himself struggling to maintain his dominance. it started gradually: you, riding him more than often; a hand to the nape guiding itself to his throat; his tie wrapped around one of his wrists. it was a matter of time until he surrendered himself entirely to you, unashamed to be at your feet.

and the time at hand came after the unfolding events of his failed and arranged marriage; the freedom of wano; and the brief peace thereafter. the sunny docked at the boisterous deck of a town for supplies, and before sanji had the chance to venture it with the means of restocking the kitchen, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him to the women’s quarters.

the ship was oddly quiet due to the absence of the rest of your crewmates, and he watched as you searched underneath your mattress for something in particular.

“are we… alright, my beloved?” he inquired, fidgeting.

you had long understood and forgiven him for his past acts, yet sanji was neither a fool nor blind to the ever-growing tension lodged in your shoulders; the clench and unclench of your fists when you were lost in thought. it made him nervous — terrified, even —, wondering if you meant to leave him.

rather than answering, you turned towards him with a magazine in hand, your finger marking a specific page with quite graphic illustrations.

sanji recognized it immediately, his eyes growing wide and throat drying up. it was one he bought ages ago, back in loguetown, that had at least seventy sex positions listed in it.

“i want to try this one,” you stated matter-of-factly. “it has the name of my island.”

he felt his legs tremble as he approached you, wary in his steps. sanji glared at the page in question, the amazon written in black ink above the illustrations, seeming to taunt his resolve.

at last, his eyes softened as he placed one hand above your cheek, caressing the skin with his thumb, aiming at a loving encounter. “i could never deny you a thing, amoureuse.”

sanji should have known better than to expect you to be tender. your eyes were sharp as you threw the magazine somewhere meaningless, gripping the front collar of his shirt.

“take off your tie,” you demanded, the intonation of your voice unallowing protests.

he shuddered; fingers trembling as he complied. your eyes remained glued to his movements, the famine stare of a predator facing its cornered prey. sanji let out a breath of awe, feeling a heat reach his cheeks and neck, painting the paleness of his skin a shade of pink. the erection jailed by the knitting of his clothing became painful within a second. he was too hard; grinding against nothing for an ounce of non-found solace.

you cooed at the action, tangling your fingers amidst golden threads of hair, caressing his scalp. “so eager, sanji-kun. you missed me, haven’t you?”

behind the lust and the command, he caught on the briefest glimpse of uneasiness — as though you longed to be reassured. he felt weak and ashamed, wishing to punish himself for having ever made you believe such a sour and untrue thing of your importance in his life.

sanji knelt in front of you, hugging your legs with both arms as he claimed the flesh of your thighs and bones of your knees with his lips and tongue, his eyes trailed to your face as he rested the side of a cheek against your skin.

“there’s no life for me without you in it, dearest,” sanji whispered, voice meek as you softened — for the merest of seconds — before the loving touch in his hair turned into a bruising grip.

“get up and give me your tie, will you?”

sanji’s mouth fell open to produce a shameful whimper at your touch. he felt your fingers moving down to his chin, nails digging in the skin as you forced him to meet your eyes.

“don’t make me repeat myself, lover,” you demanded, to which he gulped.

sanji’s legs had been crafted into a wonder of itself. muscular and firemade; unbreakable flesh and bones meant to shield and serve. yet, as he raised from the ground, those same legs trembled and faltered under the pressure of your glance.

the fabric of his tie — expensive, at that —, was crushed between your fingers, and sanji found himself not caring in the slightest, mouth foaming at the sight.

his teeth clashed once your thumb forced his jaw shut. he observed you with widened eyes as you soothed the region, skin scraping against his goatee.

“lay down on my bed,” you instructed, pressing your palm flat against his chest to push him further.

sanji complied, his back meeting the soft surface. he whined, observing your knees digging into the mattress as you hovered over him, not quite meeting his clothed thighs. sanji observed you with certain desperation, his fingers trembling due to the overwhelming desire as he aimed at your waist.

“now, now,” you cooed, gripping his wrists as you tied them both to the bed. “we have the entire afternoon, why the hurry?”

sanji tested the binds, well aware that he had more than enough strength to tear it with the merest of pulls. your glance hardened, not an ounce of sympathy offered towards his actions. sanji ceased immediately, accepting his fate.

“please,” he mumbled, his voice sounding odd to his own ears, lacking its usual fire.

“please what, sanji-kun?” you taunted.

“touch me!” he found himself begging, tearing his head from the pillow; buckling his hips as he searched for the contact from your figure.

you gripped the middle of his shirt, pressing a kiss to his forehead. sanji closed his eyes, whimpering as he clung to that faintest touch as though one would to the lingering taste of a most favored food. he chased your lips, nearly losing the sense of the words that graced his sore ears.

“don’t be mad at me for that,” you whispered, breath fanning above his earlobe.

sanji meant to protest. to remind you that there was not a thing you could do or say to ever grant his distaste. yet his voice failed and melted into a yelp, his eyes widening as he observed the buttons fly across the room, the fabric of his shirt tearing open and your eyes drowning in the sight of his bare skin.

sanji’s head fell against the pillow as your hands traveled down his chest, pinching the skin; massaging his abdomen. he tried — he really did — to maintain his composure. sanji was still when your fingers unraveled him, and remained still when your lips, teeth and tongue greeted his flesh, leaving a trail of bites and kisses and bruises in its wake. he was in a pathetic state of broken moans and pleads, yes, but he was obedient. that was, of course, until your mouth closed around a nipple.

sanji’s hips buckled. he moved with pure desperation, chasing friction, whimpering, fighting against the tie. your own hips lowered, forcing his back against the mattress. you applied force, ceasing his movements all at once, and observing him with a glint of disapproval.

“stop that,” you grounded him, gripping his wrists.

“‘m sorry,” sanji caught himself saying, a pool of tears threatening to spill at the pressure of your figure above his aching cock. “‘m sorry. ‘m sorry.”

“you won’t move unless i tell you to,” he nodded fervently. “repeat it.”

“i won’t move unless you tell me to.”

“and i’m your one and only.”

“and you’re my one and only,” he started, refusing to stop at that. “i’m your devoted servant. your loyal dog. i’m nothing if not born to be yours.”

“that’s good, beloved,” you said, and sanji could have melted if not for your next words. “because you’re not being a good boy right now.”

sanji felt himself flush with shame, devastated at the prospect of having disappointed you in some sense.

“i’ll do better,” he whimpered with clear desperation, eager to serve.

“of course you will,” you answered, pleased with his reaction. “you won’t get to cum otherwise.”

ruthless, he thought to himself. his dick twitched. sanji never loved you more.

your lips returned to its previous ministrations, claiming each and every inch of his skin; torturing the most delicate spots of his neck. when you bit down on his pressure point, sanji moaned. his mouth clamped shut thereafter, nervous-struck tears rolling down his flushed cheeks.

he cleared his throat, forcing himself to meet your piercing gaze. “c-can i—”, his voice toned down, embarrassment overcoming him.

“use your words, sanji,” you reminded him, lightly pinching one of his nipples.

he shuddered, swallowing down a whine. “can i make… noises?”

sanji was unsure; meek, even. you pressed a single kiss to his chest, humming. “you must.”

his throat went dry, and he mumbled incoherences, clinging to the tie. a harsh bite to his flesh stole a moan from him — a reminder that he was to speak.

“alright,” sanji whispered, losing a sense of sanity as he observed you unzip your shorts and toss the fabric somewhere amidst the lost buttons.

sanji whined at the sudden lack of contact once you aimed to position your core above his awaiting lips.

“would you mind?” you teased, refusing to remove your panties, while well aware that he had no means to do it himself.

“please,” he pleaded, feeling pathetic at his own despair. yet your eyes held neither pity nor disgust, but burning lust and passion; the intrinsic pride of having him into such a position.

sanji had prayed to be loved; to be desired. he wasted ages pursuing such a thing, at last to comprehend that one did not capture love, but was rather captivated and lured into it during the least expected instance. love was the sight he was faced with as in that moment; love was what he meant to pour in his tongue once it met the drenched patch of your panties, seeking your warmth.

slowly and with certain sadism, for he wasn’t allowed to move a mere inch, you lowered yourself, at last offering him the solace he chased. sanji latched his mouth on your clothed clit, circling his tongue around the sensible bud. he whined at the sounds of your pleasure, sending vibrations through your core.

the first moment in which he begged you to sit on his face had been surrounded in reassuring words from his side. you once hovered, hesitant to have him uncomfortable or trapped in between your thighs. sanji, then, had a vice grip on your flesh, pleading you to use him for your pleasure. and once you complied, it became clear that you had taken a particular liking to that position — and sanji would never complain whatsoever.

he buried his nose in your cunt, coating your panties with his saliva, attempting to have his tongue inside your pussy regardless of the fabric in between. you gripped his hair, bruising the scalp, forcing yourself further down his mouth. sanji drowned in it, controlling the urge to rut his hips, eyes trailed to your reactions.

sanji adored the sight of your face once it was contorted in pleasure; thrived in the fact that he was the one responsible for it. he fastened his pace, teasing your clit with his nose while biting the vexing panties that stole him the delight of tasting you fully. you were nearing an edge, melting at the teasing of your folds — he could sense it. before sanji could demolish your resolve whatsoever, you raised your hips, tearing your cunt from the ministrations of his lips. he whined, observing you; a pout threatening to form in his lips.

“don’t complain,” you reprimanded, returning to your previous position above his thighs. “i’m not cumming on your tongue.”

sanji’s erection was painful, constrained by the fabric of his clothes. his eyes filled with tears yet again, and your gaze softened ever-so-slightly.

“my love—”

“shhh,” you reassured, working to unbutton his pants. “i got you.”

sanji’s grip tightened around his tie as you stripped the lower half of his body bare. your panties were thrown above the pile of his trousers and underwear, and you touched his calves softly. with sudden tenderness, you raised both his legs, pushing them beyond his shoulders, eyes wide.

“you are flexible, aren’t you?” you mused, the compliment causing him to nod with fervor and melt.

“for you, mon cheri, i can be anything,” he breathed out, lost with the sight of your intimacy.

your palms remained on his calves, forcing his feet to meet the headboard. “don’t move.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it, my heart,” sanji proffered, missing the warmth of your palms as you guided one of them to his cock.

you tightened your fingers around the hard shaft, teasing the reddish head. sanji whined, struggling to contain his squirming. yet, he remained still — as you had instructed him to.

“what a good boy,” you complimented, aligning his dick to your entrance. sanji offered you a meek smile, moaning as you teased your folds with his erection.

your walls enveloped his cock as you sank into him. sanji closed his eyes, his cheek against the pillow. you pressed your chest against his own, wickedly satisfied with his reaction. sanji trailed his glance to your covered chest, trembling with desire, his fingers twitching due to the urge to touch your figure.

the fabric of his tie scratched against his wrists as sanji squirmed, struggling to keep his hips tethered to the mattress, as you were unmoving. if he was to switch the angle of his legs ever so slightly, he would feel his feet brush against the side of his head. yet your palms held his calves with an ironmade grip, nails digging in the surface.

“what do you want, love?” you inquired, and he poured his adoration into his glance at the sound of your voice.

“to touch you, ma perle,” he answered with near desperation, struggling to maintain his voice stable.

you tilted your head to the side, grinding your hips. your walls clenched around his shaft and sanji whined, tearstruck eyes born from lust.

“you are touching me,” you said, raising your hips for a mere instance before sinking all the way down. the sound of your moan pushed him through the bottom of a cliff.

“please, please,” he pleaded. “i’ll make you feel so good, mon amour. let me touch you properly, i promise—”

“oh, but you’re making me feel good already,” you mumbled, moving your hips to tease his cock — sheltered inside your warmth. “let me have you this way for now, hm? could you do that for me, sanji?”

“yes,” he broke down, his resolve melting in a puddle.

you hummed, pleased at his willingness. after what seemed to be a thousand ages, your feet sunk into the mattress as you sat above him, holding his raised legs into place. the bed creaked and complained with your bouncing, the tip of his cock reaching newer and deeper spots due to the angle; spots that had you mewling above him, a fruit of ecstasy that sanji so eagerly devoured.

a choir of whimpers tore through his throat as you rode him, raising your weight until his tip brushed against your entrance, to at last slam yourself back down, allowing him to brush against your sweetest spot. you held his wrists for further equilibrium, mouth agape and drool dripping down your chin to his chest as the base of his cock disappeared amidst your folds.

sanji’s glance was tethered to your face — contorted with pleasure —, while he fought against the urge to roll his eyes. the sensitive flesh of his cock was painted white with your essence; the alluring sound of your flesh meeting his own, his balls caged under your ass for the briefest instances. he teared up at the stimulation, his voice assuming a louder — yet shriller — intonation.

sanji felt the warmth of your essences on his skin as it dripped from your intertwined bodies to the silken sheets. he struggled with the tie, repeatedly hitting the back of his head against the pillow. sanji was muttering incoherences — from meaningless pleading to the broken syllables of your name —, a desperate fool of aching feet that could not cease to dance at the tempo of your music.

sanji was barely able to make out your figure through the blurriness from his tears. your hips halted to a slower pace, taunting circles that had him gasping and squirming for a deeper contact.

“what do you want, dearest?”

sanji glazed at your hardened nipples, hidden behind a slim fabric. a harsh grip to his chin — one that guided his eyes to your face — brought him back to the matter at hand.

he cleared his throat, struggling to find the words, lost in the feeling of your walls clenching around his cock.

“want to help you,” he mumbled, aware of your trembling legs, threatening to crumble. “want you to use me.”

you hummed, sinking your knees on the mattress. his tip brushed against your cervix, the position granting him deeper access. sanji cried out, arching his back, his legs diligently obeying to your commands as your palms spread them open. the room filled with the sounds of skin-on-skin, and your pace wavered due to the previous effort; your hips rolling, rather than rising.

your palms met his bare chest, and you yelped when sanji — out of sheer instinct — buckled his hips upwards, matching the tempo of your bouncing. sanji prepared a choir of apologies for the haste; for disrespecting your commands. yet, he was graced with the sound of your mewls, arching your back and digging your nails as you conceded to his actions. your breasts followed the pace you settled, and sanji’s mouth all but watered at the sight, his tongue rolling past his lips due to the desire to have your nipples covered in saliva.

you spared him a glance, eyes losing focus as your thighs burned and your release fled from your grip.

“sanji,” you drawled out, placing one hand on his cheek. the man followed your touch with his lips, pressing wet kisses and sucking onto the skin, observing you through his lashes; eyes glassy.

“y-yes, mon amour?”

you gulped, falling prey to his flushed cheeks and fucked up expression. so much for following-in with the dominance.

“touch me,” you allowed him, emitting a groan of frustration with one last descent.

your cunt swallowed him whole, his balls brushing against the flesh of your ass. your moan got lost between the sound of his ripped tie. sanji lowered his legs and sat up with such haste that his forehead met yours with a particularly unnecessary strength.

“ouch,” you mumbled, giggling as sanji cradled your cheeks with worry.

“‘m sorry, my treasure,” he breathed out, pressing kisses to the extension of your face, not leaving a single inch unattended. “allow me to take care of you.”

you brushed the sweaty hair off his face, wishing to have both of his eyes focused on your figure. you rolled your hips, fueled by his reaction. sanji cranned up his neck, and dug his digits on the flesh your ass as he set the pace, moving his hips to meet your own as you rode him.

the cook latched his lips to your collarbone, unable to reach your breasts due to the angle, yet refusing to have your skin without a trail of hickeys. you hugged him, pressing his face closer. your back arched, eyes rolling with pleasure as your tired throat failed to produce a single moan.

sanji sobbed at the clenching of your cunt around his sensitive cock. gripping his hair, you adjusted the angle of your head to allow him to lick the sweat off the side of your neck. somewhere in that haze there was the sound of frail wood — not that neither of you cared.

“i’m c-close,” you moaned, hips giving in as sanji did his best to rut into you, claiming your insides as his tip continued to meet your sensitive spot.

“c-can i cum too?” he inquired through trembling lips, his voice close to giving in. “please, my star, let me cum with you. i’ve been—ngh, good, right?”

you felt his tears dripping on your skin, mixed with his saliva and your own sweat. your fingers caressed the blonde locks of hair as you nodded, attempting to reassure him through the broken moans as your hips rolled against his.

“cum for me, love,” you encouraged, feeling the familiar twitch of his cock within you.

sanji whimpered, burying his face on your shoulder as he bottomed out, spurts of his seed filling your insides and dripping on the sheets. you rode him, ignoring his pleas and sobs, chasing your own high.

“so good for me,” you cooed, pressing your lips to the crown of his head. “you’re always so good.”

a last bounce undid the invisible knot that held your own release. as it seemed, it also demolished the structure of the bed, and you heard the cracking wood before you, sanji and the mattress were thrown on the ground. your essence mixed with his, and sanji’s cock remained deep inside as he hugged your figure to shelter you from the impact.

“oh shit—”, he worried, anxiously observing the surroundings as you guided him to the soaked sheets.

both of you whimpered, sensible, when you removed his softened cock from your cunt. sanji’s fingers settled on your back, drawing hearts on your skin as you laid above him.

“it’s fine,” you soothed, pressing the side of your head to his chest to hear the wild beating of his heart. “want to stay like this for a little longer.”

the cook peppered kisses on the crown of your head, allowing the silence to engulf the room. musing how he had managed to live for such a long period without your guiding light.

“missed you,” you confessed, kissing the spot above his heart.

he stifled for a second, before his arms hugged you tighter, as if fearing that you were but a dream that he was soon to be woken up from.

“i’m so sorry for leaving so suddenly—”

“sanji.”

“hm?”

“you’re back and you’re mine. and i love you. that’s all that matters to me.”

his throat dried up as he swallowed. “i love you more.”

“enough to take the blame for the bed when nami returns?”

he shuddered, observing your face as your chin pressed against his chest. “anything for you.”

— 🐈‍⬛ : hiiiii (mouth foaming) it’s been a while (i need to impregnate that man) hope everyone’s having a great week (clenching my fist) let’s all do our best!! (if i don’t have sanji by saturday i’m going to crawl up the walls and eat a tree).

#one piece #op #op x reader #op x y/n #op x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you #black leg sanji #op sanji #sanji smut #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji imagine #sanji #one piece sanji #k

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puppym3 · 4 months ago

Note

farmer!reader x writer!hyunjin who is her secret admirer and he sent her letters? the farmer is new to the town, getting away from the cities and hyunjin is the last person she met after everyone in town since he's always in his cabin near the beach

kind of like the game, stardew valley!

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ dear farmer,

wc: 4.4k

warnings: fluffy cuteness, confessions, literally not much to warn you on this is just rly cute, mailman chan, fisher jisung, farmer reader, author/writer hyunjin, hyunjin refers to reader as his muse, (LMK IF I MISSED ANY!)

a/n: THIS IS TOO CUTE OH MY GOODNESS GOODNIGHT. i was literally gushing writing this i hope i wrote it the way you were imagining. i love stardew valley so tysm for suggesting this!!!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The small village you moved into was a far cry from the bustling city life you once knew. The quaint charm of the town, with its winding cobblestone streets and picturesque cottages, had drawn you in immediately. Seeking a fresh start and a simpler life, you had purchased an old farmhouse on the outskirts of town, eager to put down roots and cultivate your own land.

The townspeople had been incredibly welcoming, each of them eager to meet you. You quickly found yourself immersed in the community, sharing smiles and stories at the local market and lending a hand wherever you could. Despite the warm reception, there was one resident you had yet to meet.

You had heard whispers about him from the other villagers—an enigmatic writer who rarely left his cabin by the beach. The townsfolk spoke of his talent with a mix of admiration and curiosity, but none seemed to know much about him personally. It wasn't for lack of trying—the local mail carrier, Chan, had admitted defeat after only one attempt to reach out, grumbling something about a ferret with a temper.

A part of you had always wondered what his writing was like, and what kind of man would choose such isolation. Perhaps he was shy, or simply enjoyed being left to his own devices. There had to be a reason why the villagers hadn't tried to reach out to him again, and yet—

"Hyunjin isn't one for conversing," Chan insisted, taking the bundle of envelopes from his bag and sliding them into the mailbox outside your farmhouse. "You don't have to worry about him."

You glanced toward the direction of the beach, watching the sun dip down over the waves. Why did his isolation make him more interesting to you? You supposed you should be grateful for his lack of interaction; with the busy work on the farm and the number of people you already tried to help each day, you didn't have time for many social gatherings. Still...

"Well," you sighed, dusting off your hands and returning the empty milk bottles to the box on your porch, "thank you, Chan."

The mailman smiled, his dark eyes crinkling in the corners. "Any time."

Heading toward the field, you squared your shoulders, determined to focus on the day's tasks and push any thoughts of the mysterious writer aside. You still had some planting to do, after all, and a long walk ahead of you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A few days later, you woke with a yawn, stretching your limbs in your bed. Sunlight poured in through the windows, illuminating the small room. The warmth was pleasant, a sharp contrast from the chilled breeze outside. You couldn't help but smile, thankful that winter had yet to roll around. The transition to farming was a busy one, and the prospect of facing your first snowfall was more than a little intimidating.

Rising from the mattress, you threw on an old, oversized sweater, not bothering to change into your work clothes before making a quick cup of tea in your kitchen. It was an easy routine to settle into, the steamy brew doing wonders for your motivation in the mornings. Once your mug was half empty, you changed into a pair of old, paint-stained overalls and made your way outside.

"You have mail today." Chan greeted you with a warm smile, already standing in front of your mailbox. "I wasn't sure if I'd catch you or not. It's nice to see you awake so early."

"Yeah, yeah." You grinned, nudging him in the arm playfully. "What's the big delivery?"

"Just the usual." Chan shrugged, sliding a few envelopes from his bag and setting them down in the mailbox. "Some advertisements and invitations to parties."

You paused, peeking inside. It looked like the usual bundle of mail—some from fellow townspeople and some from local companies looking to get your attention. You hummed in thought, glancing over the usual assortment before a handwritten letter caught your attention.

It was written in simple script, the envelope adorned with a tiny blueberry stamp in the corner. It stood out against the other, more formal pieces of mail. The sight made you pause.

"Oh," you said, your curiosity piqued. "This one looks different."

"Huh?" Chan followed your line of sight, his eyes widening when he spotted the letter. "That's... oh. Oh."

You blinked. "What? Do you know who sent it?"

Chan fiddled with the strap of his bag. "I recognize that writing," he muttered, refusing to meet your gaze.

"Really?" You said, curiosity piqued.

He paused, glancing around your front porch. "You know, I'm a bit busy today. I should head off," he stuttered, already backing away. "Goodbye."

Before you could question his reaction any further, the mailman was already hurrying away down the path to the next house.

Furrowing your brow, you took a step back. Had you said something wrong? Maybe it wasn't a big deal; you could always ask Chan about it later, anyway. In the meantime, you were eager to see what the letter held.

The moment you picked the letter up, your senses were overwhelmed with a comforting, earthy scent. You recognized it immediately. It smelled of the ground after a spring shower, or of the rich dirt after a hard day's work in the fields. You breathed it in, the smell quickly becoming your favorite. You had always associated the earth with a sense of peace, and this scent was no exception.

Smiling softly to yourself, you broke the seal with ease, unfolding the crisp parchment paper to reveal the same script. You were surprised by the neat handwriting; each letter was carefully drawn out, the author's focus clearly evident in their penmanship. You began to read, your smile growing as you devoured the contents of the letter.

To the farmer,

You know, I've always thought the sun is kind of funny. The sun rises and sets, and then rises and sets again. Sometimes the sky is blue, and other days it is white. But in every sunrise, there is one thing that stays the same. It's you. You always rise with the sun. I used to wake up when it was light outside, but these days I've started to wake up earlier. It's a good way to start the day. I know the sun is your companion in the mornings.

Your admirer,

You stared down at the words, the heat of a blush rising up your cheeks. How sweet, you thought to yourself, holding the letter a bit closer. You had to admit that it was nice to read—to know that someone in town noticed the time of day you woke up and, what's more, noticed how much you liked to work under the early sunlight. You hadn't thought about the author much before, but now, you were eager to meet them.

Before you could think it over, you folded the letter with care, sliding it into the pocket of your overalls. You glanced up toward the sun, letting it wash over your face for a moment before heading to work. The sun was your companion, after all. You may as well take advantage of its light.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Over the next few weeks, the letters continued. Each day, Chan would deliver one to your doorstep. It became part of the routine, and you quickly grew accustomed to the extra attention. Every time you spotted the blueberry seal on your front doorstep, your heart leapt with joy, eager to see the new message written within.

Sometimes the letters were short; other times they were long. Occasionally, the author would ramble, describing a favorite memory from their childhood or sharing a silly joke. You read each word carefully, often smiling or chuckling as you read, already eager for the next message. The more letters you read, the more you wanted to learn about this mystery person.

A part of you wondered who this author might be. The only clues were the scent of earth on the pages and a few hand-drawn images. You had been able to rule out Chan; it would be near impossible for him to write a letter each day and still be on time to the next house. That left you with little knowledge of the writer's identity, though you hoped that the writer might eventually share their identity.

Today, a soft rainfall pattered down over your fields. You sighed to yourself as you entered the house, wiping the mud from your boots before sliding them off on the mat in front of your door. Another busy day in the fields was over. Tomorrow was a new day, one where you would finally plant a new patch of carrots. The prospect of the harvest kept you motivated as you reached for the envelope, eagerly tearing it open with a smile.

As you read the letter, your smile slowly faded. A hint of fear and excitement coursed through your veins, leaving you a little shaken as you absorbed each word.

To the farmer,

It's getting colder here. Soon, I'll have to wear a scarf every day, even indoors. I wish I had the courage to share more of myself with you. Maybe if we ever met in person, I wouldn't be so nervous. I can't wait until I'm brave enough to tell you more about me.

Your admirer,

P.S. I hope the sun will rise tomorrow morning. You always end up rising, and I trust your routine.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The letters started to come with less often. Sometimes you would receive one per day. Other times, you might get one a few days apart, with only one letter on the weekends. You hated to admit that it left you feeling a bit sad, your mood growing darker as time passed.

"Oh, Chan." You tried not to sound disappointed when you spotted the mailman walking up your path one morning, a few letters in hand. "Any letters from H?"

"Hmm, I don't think so." He shrugged, sliding a few letters into your mailbox. "Let me see. Oh! There is one."

He handed you a new letter, a faint smile on his lips. You quickly broke the seal, not bothering to glance over the others as you eagerly opened the newest one. Your eyes widened at the words you saw before you.

My dearest,

I'm sorry that my letters haven't come as often lately. There was a big change at the publishing house I'm working for. I didn't tell you about that before. I've been trying to keep my letters shorter since I have less free time now, but I always find myself wanting to write more to you. I guess I can't help myself.

I'll keep writing letters if you keep reading.

Yours,

P.S. Thank you for working hard every day. It helps to see that the world still spins, no matter what's happening in it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Have you ever thought about trying to meet H?"

The question made you pause. You were out by the docks, fishing with Jisung. The young man was your favorite fishing buddy, often sitting on the end of the dock in silence with a small smile. You both had been there for an hour, but this was the first time he'd spoken today. You blinked at him in confusion before setting your fishing rod aside, a curious look on your face.

"What do you mean?"

Jisung smiled. "It's obvious you enjoy their letters," he pointed out, reeling in another fish from his line. "Maybe you could meet them?"

You stared down at your reflection on the water, chewing the inside of your cheek. The truth was that you hadn't considered the idea, mainly because you couldn't decide if it was a good one. It wasn't like the writer had never suggested the idea—it was the whole purpose behind their first few letters, but something about that made you hesitate.

It was as if you were waiting for H to come to you when they were ready, and vice versa. It was a little scary, to be honest. The thought of finally meeting the person you'd been so connected to these last few weeks made you a bit nervous, to say the least.

"I guess I should." You nodded, casting your line again.

"Well, I'd like to meet them too," Jisung said, glancing toward you. "To approve."

You smiled at that, rolling your eyes playfully. "What's not to like? They write beautiful letters and draw nice little pictures," you laughed, watching the bait at the end of your hook. "Maybe I should meet them."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That night, you made your decision.

"Chan! You have a moment?" You waved the mailman down the next day as he passed your house on the trail, a few envelopes in his arms.

He looked over in surprise, smiling as he hurried down the path. "Good morning," he greeted you. "How's the farm?"

You smiled back at him. "Great, hey, you seemed to know a little bit about H that you aren't telling me." You said, getting straight to the point. "Do you know anything more?"

The mailman frowned for a moment, before sighing. "Well, you should go to the beach." He said, gesturing to the coastline, visible over your house. "Hy—I mean, H, they live near there."

You blinked, looking to where the mailman was pointing. "They live near the beach?"

"Yeah."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had to be the grumpy writer who lived alone that you hadn't met yet. That was your only option, right? He had to be H. Who else could it be? You sighed to yourself, gathering your things in a bag and setting off in the direction of the beach.

It was a bit of a hike, the ocean path curving and twisting to take you along a scenic route. You didn't mind the walk, though, pausing often to take in the scenery. By the time you arrived at the beach, you felt a little calmer. The beach was deserted; though that didn't surprise you. It wasn't too warm today. The air was cool and refreshing, with a few clouds rolling by overhead. It was the perfect day for a walk on the sand.

You scanned the coastline for any signs of a cabin, spotting one in the distance. It was nestled between the cliffs, overlooking a small patch of beach. It seemed a bit hidden, the sight making you smile to yourself.

The author had to be a loner, just like you were.

Taking a deep breath, you approached the cabin. As you came closer, you noticed a small, stone path that led to a patio on the beach. You spotted a wooden swing, rocking slightly in the breeze. A person sat on the seat, their head ducked in a book as they sat under a shady umbrella.

As you drew closer, you saw the mysterious person, his dark hair was a little messier than usual, with a few strands falling in front of his face. He seemed lost in the book in his hands. His eyes were glazed over and unfocused as he sat, oblivious to his surroundings. The sight made you smile, a sudden feeling of affection coming over you as you approached.

You recognized that messy hair and those dark, mysterious eyes.

It was Hyunjin. It was Hyunjin who lived alone near the beach. Hyunjin, the man you had only heard a few stories about from Chan and Felix, but he looked even better than you had imagined.

"Oh!" The man looked up and saw you approaching him. His eyes widened for a second before he cleared his throat, turning to face you with a hint of panic in his expression.

You paused at his reaction, stopping in your tracks. You suddenly felt very silly, not even considering that Hyunjin might not actually want you to visit him. You tried not to frown as you considered the possibilities. Had Hyunjin forgotten about your correspondence? Had you been a mistake? Was this a terrible idea?

"H-Hyunjin!" You stammered, cursing yourself for not planning this a bit better. You could already feel yourself start to sweat. "I'm the farmer, it's nice to finally meet you."

You held your hand out to Hyunjin, who eyed you up for a moment, his expression unreadable. You swallowed thickly, preparing to turn back around and run away—

"The farmer." The words sounded breathless. Hyunjin slowly placed his hand in yours. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes were trained on your face. His cheeks looked a little red as he held your hand in his own. It felt warm and a bit calloused, a clear sign that he was a writer. "It's nice to finally meet you too."

You felt the butterflies in your stomach flutter as you watched him, trying not to let the emotion show on your face. This was H. It was Hyunjin who wrote such beautiful letters to you and sent you drawings in the post. Hyunjin was your author, the person you'd connected so easily to through ink and paper, and he was so beautiful.

"It's nice to put a name to a face." You murmured, letting your eyes wander over Hyunjin. "You're just how I imagined."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"So," You sat next to Hyunjin on his porch, staring up at the sky above you. It was beginning to grow darker, the evening sky giving way to a more vibrant sunset. "How'd you get so good at writing letters?"

Hyunjin smiled a little to himself. He leaned back against his hands, his long legs stretched out on the floor. "I've always loved writing," he confessed. "But it was different before, when I was younger."

"Different how?" You asked, looking over at him curiously.

He let his eyes close. "Before I left the city, I worked at the publishing house." He explained. "I always wrote stories there, but they weren't really... mine."

You blinked, watching the way his long lashes fluttered against his cheeks. "They were stories that people hired us to write," he said quietly. "But I liked doing it. I felt like I was doing something special with the words, even if they weren't my words. I wrote all day and got paid for it. But there was always this... nagging voice in the back of my mind, wondering if it was good enough."

You felt a lump form in your throat. "It sounds like it was a good job," you whispered, not wanting to ruin the moment. "Why did you leave it behind?"

The author chuckled. "I got sick of it." He sighed, opening his eyes and looking up to the sky. "It felt so empty. I wasn't making my own decisions. I wasn't getting paid because the stories were mine."

You swallowed. "But here?" You gestured toward the beach, your heart swelling in your chest. "You can write about whatever you want?"

Hyunjin looked to you and smiled softly.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As the days turned to weeks and then to months, the two of you fell into an easy routine. You visited Hyunjin every morning, bringing breakfast along with you, and Hyunjin always made sure to leave you a letter by your front door in return. Sometimes he would be waiting outside his cabin when you came, eager to talk about a new plot point that he came up with the night before. Other times, he would be asleep by the time you got to him, only stirring from his slumber when he heard you set breakfast out on his porch.

And he wrote to you every day, leaving letters on your front doorstep, each one signed off with a different nickname. Some days, the nickname was short, others, it was longer. But he always ended the letter with a promise of a new chapter, just as he had with the first one, so long ago.

On your fifth visit, this time you brought him a letter. He was surprised to see you hand it to him. He blinked down at the envelope in his hands, running a thumb over the words on the paper.

You were nervous, you were nowhere near as good as him, but you assumed that speaking in his language would gauge his appeal.

To my writer,

You are more talented than you give yourself credit for.

Thank you for always writing so beautifully,

Your admirer,

The farmer

"I wanted to send you a letter today." You whispered as his eyes scanned over the letter.

Hyunjin looked up from the page. His expression softened as he set the letter down. He held out his arms in invitation, his lips curving upwards as he stared back at you. You didn't need him to repeat himself, throwing yourself into his arms without hesitation. You leaned your head against his chest and listened to his heart beat. The sound made your heart race. It was as if Hyunjin's heartbeat had become a part of you. You could hear the rhythm and knew it was a part of you as well, just as much as it was him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Over the course of your visits, it was inevitable that your relationship evolved into something deeper. It began with subtle touches—a brush of your hands against each other as you sat together on the porch or the feeling of Hyunjin's gaze on your face as you read a story he wrote. As you began to notice his attention to detail, the way he was able to capture emotions with words you didn't know how to express, you realized how much he had given you.

You had never considered yourself an introvert, but something about being around him made you feel at ease. The thought made you blush. There was a strange warmth that settled in the pit of your stomach whenever you were around him. You began to crave it, yearning to feel it whenever you could, whether you were spending time together on the beach, walking the trails along the coastline, or simply sitting on his porch swing, talking about nothing at all.

And slowly, that warmth grew into something more. The more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be close to him. It started with soft smiles and light touches, followed by gentle touches and lingering glances. It began as something innocent, but the longer you were with him, the stronger it got. You were becoming addicted to it, longing for the next chance you would get to see him, to touch him and feel that rush of electricity course through your veins.

You found yourself waking up in the early hours of the morning to watch the sunrise. You began to count the seconds until the mail came. You went to bed late every night, staying awake until your eyes hurt to stare.

Your visits grew longer, your conversations becoming deeper.

Hyunjin became your new favorite distraction.

"It's a book." He had whispered as you both lay on the beach, his gaze trained on the stars above you. "I'm writing a book, I think."

"You think?"

He had nodded, the hint of a smile on his lips as he spoke. "Yes, and I've started to wonder..." he had paused then, looking to you as his cheeks turned pink. "That you're my inspiration."

You felt your breath hitch at the admission, a blush creeping up your neck to stain your cheeks. "What do you mean?"

He had sat up and looked at you with those deep, dark eyes.

"You're the one that I'm writing this book for. It's yours, my feelings, my thoughts, everything in it is for you." He said, reaching up to cup your cheeks. "I think about you when I wake up and when I go to sleep and when I go for my walks," he had smiled shyly. "You're the only person that's on my mind and it feels so good to feel that way about something again."

The warmth that spread through your veins made you dizzy, but you found yourself smiling, a small sigh escaping your lips.

You wanted nothing more than to be Hyunjin's inspiration forever.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And soon the book was complete.

It was the last page in Hyunjin's journal that had been filled with his scrawled words and thoughts. It had taken him months, but he finished it, his heart and soul on each page.

Hyunjin read it to you as you sat on the porch swing, wrapped in a blanket as the wind blew off the sea. He sat with you and held the book in his hands, turning the pages as he spoke. His voice was soft and melodic as he told his story. The words came easily to him, the sentences flowing smoothly together. He paused often to look up at you, his eyes searching yours. His voice grew quieter with each word, until finally, he was whispering the last page.

You felt the tears well in your eyes, threatening to fall as he closed the book and set it aside. The silence that followed felt heavy, your mind still processing what he had just told you.

The book was a confession to you, a way for Hyunjin to express all of the feelings he had been struggling to express for the past few months. He told you that you were his muse, his reason to wake up each morning. You were the person who made him feel whole, complete, and it was all he wanted in life to be by your side, to feel this way for as long as he lived.

The book was about the two of you. He wrote it all, the letters he sent and the drawings he drew, just for you, to tell you how much he loved you.

Your tears spilled over, a few trickling down your cheeks as you sniffed quietly, a smile spreading across your lips as you stared up at him. He watched you closely, waiting for your response. With a shaky breath, you closed the distance between you and Hyunjin, leaning in. His eyes widened in surprise, his breath hitching as he realized what was about to happen. Your lips met his in a tender, hesitant kiss, pouring all your gratitude, relief, and affection into that single moment.

Hyunjin made a quiet noise, almost like a gasp, but he quickly responded, his lips moving against yours with a gentle yet fervent intensity. His hands found their way to your cheeks, cupping them delicately as if you were something precious and fragile. He deepened the kiss, and you felt a wave of warmth and security wash over you.

Time seemed to stand still as the two of you stayed there, lost in the moment. The world outside faded away, leaving only the sensation of his lips on yours, his hands cradling your face, and the steady rhythm of your racing hearts. Every pent-up emotion, every unspoken word, all lost in that moment.

And there was something that you had never mentioned to anyone before, something you were embarrassed to admit, something you had been keeping hidden deep within your heart.

You loved the author who lived by the sea.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist for my beauties : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88

#skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin fluff #straykids #stray kids hyunjin #skz fluff

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yyuangss · 1 year ago

Text

DAY OFF ( JING YUAN )

summary ! the general is finally given a day off and he knows how he wants to spend it.

tags ! jing yuan x fem!reader, fluff

word count ! 936 words

note: i’ve been in a jing yuan mood recently so i decided to write a drabble for him 😳👍

You carefully close the large door behind you, using the heel of your foot. You were greeted by the white lion that began circling you, inspecting to see what you’d brought home. Mimi began sniffing the bottom of the bag in your arms. You were expecting to see your husband after sending him a message you would return soon.

Well, it is his day off. So you don’t blame him if he wants to detach himself from the Lufou for a day. You wonder where he’s at since he’s nowhere in sight. Instead, Mimi places her paws on you, giving you a small shove. You hold onto the bag of groceries in your arms tighter, carefully regaining your balance again.

“Okay okay!” You narrow your eyes at the lion. You kick off your shoes and make your way towards the kitchen. She is right behind you, nudging you even more to hurry. Mimi must have smelled the treat you bought her. You place the bag on the table and begin rummaging around to find Mimi’s treat. “If I give this to you, will you tell me where Jing Yuan is?” You hold the treat up to the lion’s mouth which she wastes no time in gobbling up.

She turns around while waving her tail, signaling you to follow her. Mimi leads you to your shared bedroom with Jing Yuan. The door was left with a small opening and Mimi pushed it open with her head. You give her a small pat on her back when you see Jing Yuan laying in bed. His bare back is facing in the direction of the door.

You make your way over, cautious to not wake him up if he is asleep. You sit on the edge of the bed and crane your neck to see his face. Jing Yuan peacefully slept on the bed, his long white hair fanned out around him. You smile, glad that he’s getting the rest he deserves. Being the general brings a lot of stress on him. Stress he’ll never openly admit he has.

You press a kiss to his bare shoulder before getting back up. You see Mimi has already curled on the floor next to the bed. She’s also dozing off to take her daily nap. Jing Yuan is definitely her owner. You decided to head back to the kitchen and put up the groceries you bought. That is until you hear someone clearing their throat behind you.

Checking over your shoulder, you see Jing Yuan had turned the other way. You stare at him in silence before he pops one of his eyes open, shutting it right after. A chuckle escapes your lips when he does it again. Aware of what he wants, you place your hands on the mattress and lean over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

Unexpectedly, Jing Yuan’s arms wrap around your body and yanks you into bed with him. You let out a help which caused him to laugh. He rolled on his back so you laid on his chest. He smiled at you and you saw in his golden eyes that he was still tired.

“You didn’t wake me up.” Jing Yuan reached up, caressing your face. “We could have gone to the market together.” You try to detach yourself from him but it only makes him hold you tighter.

“You were still asleep. Besides, it’s your day off.” You responded, “I didn’t want to bother you especially when you need the rest.” He hums, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“How thoughtful of you, my dear.” Jing Yuan lays you down next to him, one arm wrapped around your waist. “But spending my day off with you is all I’d ever want. And here I was all excited.” He sighs, wiping away a fake tear. You gently hit his arm and he smirks.

As you try to get up for a second time, Jing Yuan grabs your wrist.

“Come lay down with me.” He says, sitting on the bed halfway. You raise a brow at him. “We can worry about everything else later.”

“Jing Yuan, you just woke up.” You say, “How can you want to go right back to sleep?” All he does is shrug and place his hand over your side of the bed, inviting you to lay next to him. It’s even early in the morning.

He starts to give you puppy eyes and slightly pouts. You exhale, shaking your head.

“Alright alright. Let me put away the—” Once again, he pulls you into bed with him. This time he cuddles you, hiding his face into your neck. “You didn’t let me finish!” You swat his back as he rolls both of you over. Jing Yuan now lays on top of you, eyes shut.

“We can worry about that later.” Jing Yuan mumbles. There is no fighting with his man. You bring your arms around him, running your hand through his hair. You’re surprised to know he is knocked out in a matter of seconds. You find yourself dozing off as well.

The bed dips on the left and you watch as Mimi nuzzles her head on Jing Yuan’s back. She rests her head on him, going to sleep with much ease too. With the company of your husband and Mimi, you are lulled to sleep.

The general’s favorite ways to spend his days off are with his wife. It doesn’t matter if he’s helping her in her chores or sleeping the hard hours worked off. As long as you’re included, Jing Yuan will always love his days off.

#@ 𝐘𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐒 ★ ⸻ 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐀𝐈: 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋 #hsr jing yuan #hsr fluff #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail fluff #star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan fluff

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crosshairlovebot · 1 year ago

Text

birthday revelations / crosshair x gn!reader

pairing: crosshair x gn!reader (no y/n). reader has a nickname.

description: crosshair discovers it's your birthday, and in an effort to try and understand birthdays, he gets you a gift.

word count: 3,793

warnings: none. crosshair ovethinks a lot

Another request! Maybe not technically a request, but @starrylothcat sent in an ask for an ask prompt and said it would be nice to see me write a fic where crosshair buys a gift for the reader for their birthday or christmas and it's been stuck in my head since! so here you go! i hope i did it justice!

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated <3

Crosshair didn’t like crowds. He gritted his teeth as he walked alone through the market on Sorgan, sidestepping people as they entered his path. It was noisy, but that didn’t bother him so much. Vendors called out to passersby, promoting their various goods for purchase with enthusiasm. Voices chattered and laughed. The smell of food wafted through Crosshair’s nose and his stomach tightened with hunger. Rations were poor choices compared to the sizzling of flavourful meat on grills, but he didn’t have enough credits to buy himself something to eat.

He only had enough to buy something for you.

He had been helping Tech with cataloguing files when he saw one on their nat-born medic. You had joined Clone Force 99 just over half a standard cycle ago with your plucky yet kind attitude, falling into the group dynamic easier than Crosshair had thought. Sure, it had taken some adjustment for him and his brothers to become used to another presence they had not grown up with, but it was inevitable you would eventually find your place in the team. You were hardworking, strong and compassionate. You paid attention to each of his brothers, giving them your undivided focus during conversation and indulging them in questions about what they were doing or their chosen skill. He had watched you talk with Tech about data decryption, Wrecker about proton-based explosives, Hunter about tracking strategies, Echo about ARC trooper training, and of course, him about sharpshooting.

He recalled the way you sat next to him for the first time on his bunk during their time in Hyperspace. He had disassembled part of his Firepuncher rifle, readjusting the scope and the barrel after it had unexpectedly jammed on their previous mission. He’d been annoyed – his prized weapon never faltered, and he was trying to figure out why it had failed on him when the thin mattress dipped next to him, and you asked what he was doing. When he’d given a particularly surly response, you nodded and then just continued to watch him. His eyes had slid to you.

“Can I help you with anything else?” He hadn’t meant it to sound so icy, but he had been frustrated with this rifle, with himself.

“Can you…explain what you’re doing?” you had asked hopefully.

He had looked at you sceptically. “Why?”

You just shrugged. “It looks interesting.”

He had studied your expression, trying to discern if you were being genuine. But you were. You always were with things like this.

So, he explained what he was doing, answered your questions and by the time his weapon was fixed, he didn’t even really remember his initial annoyance. You had smiled at him, your mouth stretching in a way that made your eyes light up. He felt a little flicker of something in his stomach before it was promptly extinguished.

Since then, you have spent time with him like that more often. Not just when he was cleaning his rifle, but other things. Like throwing Lula back and forth across the bunks as you both talked, joking about things that happened on missions. Sharing looks over briefings. Stealing Wrecker’s snacks.

But his favourite time with you was drawing on your datapad and trying to guess what the other was drawing. He had learnt you liked to draw and enjoyed drawing out something other than a medical diagram. He felt a sense of pride in making you laugh so hard you cried with his silly caricatures during long hyperspace trips. Exaggerated doodles of his brothers, tookas and the like, a portrait of you with a funny expression. You liked to draw him with a smile too big for his face, chuckling as you drew and then collapsing into laughter when you showed him. It always made the thing in his stomach flicker.

He really liked having you around.

So, when he came across your file when helping Tech, he couldn’t help but open it. You had told them all any information they had asked for, and information they had not. There wasn’t really anything you kept secret. But when he saw your ID holo looking particularly embarrassing: with wide eyes and a half-formed expression – like you were taken off guard by the photo, the corner of his mouth twisted up in an impish smirk.

He had intended to tease you about it; set the holo to the show on every Marauder screen so it was everywhere.

He opened the file to take a copy of the holo when he spotted details about your age and date of birth.

He frowned at the date. “Tech, what is today’s galactic date?”

Tech looked up from his datapad, adjusting his goggles before rattling off the date. “Why?”

He said your name before telling him, “It’s their birthday tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Tech blinked.

Age and birthdays were almost foreign concepts to clones. With accelerated aging and growing in a capsule, they didn’t really matter to them. Awkward to calculate, they weren’t celebrated. Crosshair had no idea when he had been ‘birthed’ or decanted, and if the Kaminoans documented such dates, then it was classified information. He knew his chronological age, but his biological age was a little murky. He knew he was a “mature clone”, however with the accelerated aging, he didn’t know where exactly he stood. None of their brothers knew any of these details. It was normal for them.

He read the date and your age. What would it be like to be so sure of something like that? To be sure of the parts that made up who you were?

Crosshair cleared his throat and closed the file without even copying the ID holo. He frowned to himself. Maybe he should’ve asked you about it before, but birthdays weren’t a part of his world, so he hadn’t thought to. But they were important to nat-borns, weren’t they? At least that’s what they’d all been told during their training modules.

When he lay in his bunk that night, he circled his mind for all he knew about birthday traditions. Gatherings. Food. Gifts. Would you like all that? Did you like all that? You seemed like you would. He didn’t know if it was something he would enjoy if he had a birthday…it didn’t really seem like his thing, but maybe he would. He would never know. He thought that Wrecker might be the only one who would enjoy a birthday. Maybe Echo too if you did it right. Same with Hunter.

But you hadn’t said anything about your birthday.

He had tossed and turned. You were part of their squad. You cared. Listened. Laughed. Did you not feel you could share the date with them? He didn’t know, and a part of him felt a little hurt that you might not feel you could. Were you not friends? Crosshair didn’t have many friends, but he knew they were supposed to tell each other things.

He turned again, crossing his arms against his chest as he faced the wall. Why did he even care? If you didn’t want to tell him it was your birthday, fine. He wouldn’t mention it.

He squeezed his eyes shut before sitting up on his elbows and craned his head to see you sleeping in your bunk. Through the darkness, his enhanced eyes saw you curled in yourself, and your nose twitched as you breathed deep and evenly. Something in his chest pinched. He sighed before laying back down and pulling the thin blanket over his head.

Now, as he found himself in this market the next day, he wondered what he was even doing here.

Once they had landed on Sorgan, they completed their mission easily with no complications. But Crosshair was still distracted by your birthday. You hadn’t even said anything when everyone woke up this morning. Just acted like it was any other day. You had just smiled at him as you tucked into a ration bar, saying good morning before throwing one to him to eat.

It puzzled him.

When you all started walking back to the Marauder after the mission, Hunter could tell something was up with him, nudging his shoulder.

“You alright?”

Crosshair had scowled at his brother. “…Yes.”

“You look deep in thought,” Hunter pointed out, falling into step with him.

Crosshair broke his gaze and looked away, back towards where they came, to the village they had just liberated. The thought had barely formed before he said, “Do we have time before the next mission?”

Hunter’s surprise showed in his voice. “We have a couple of hours, why?”

“I’ll be back later,” Crosshair walked off in the direction of the village before Hunter could say anything. His long legs carried him to the marketplace, where he stood now amongst the bustling bodies.

He just couldn’t get your birthday out of his stupid head; that you hadn’t said anything because clones didn’t celebrate birthdays. Just because he didn’t understand them, doesn’t mean he couldn’t try…for you.

He started combing through the vendors, most of which were finishing up resetting their stands after they fled suddenly several days prior. He moved from stall to stall, gazing at the different items over people's heads. Kriff, what were you even supposed to buy people for birthdays? Something they needed? Something they wanted? It was all a little overwhelming. And Crosshair didn’t get overwhelmed.

“Looking for something in particular, my friend?”

Crosshair startled and looked up to see the vendor, a greying man with a wrinkled face, horns protruding from his forehead and curled up in an elegant spiral shape.

Crosshair frowned, clearing his throat. “It’s…my friend's birthday today.”

The man’s face lit up. “Wonderful! Birthdays are special.”

Crosshair’s mouth tightened as the man continued to speak. “What were you thinking of gifting them?”

The hairs on Crosshair’s neck stood up with nerves. “I…I don’t know.”

The man’s face lit up. “Perhaps I can help.”

The man then went through the different items at his stand. He held up scarves, strings of beads, and handmade pottery. Crosshair thought they were all nice enough, but he wasn’t swimming in credits. And none of the items really felt like you. The vendor was patient, more patient than he should’ve been. Either he really wanted to help or was desperate for a sale in a competitive marketplace.

After many minutes and many items, Crosshair felt himself gradually stiffening, becoming more and more on edge and uncomfortable. He felt so out of his depth. He was always so sure of everything, and trying to do this thing he had no experience in, made him more vulnerable than he had in a long time. It was not a feeling he felt comfortable with. Never had been.

And as much as he liked you, maybe this was all a stupid idea. You hadn’t mentioned your birthday for a reason. He shouldn’t bring it up. If he did, he’d have to explain how he found out…and he didn’t want to go through that awkwardness. He was about to open his mouth and tell the over-enthusiastic vendor: thank you, but he wouldn’t bother with a gift, when the vendor clapped his hands loudly, making Crosshair jump.

“I may have something back here, hold on,” he said as he turned away to rifle noisily through a crate behind him.

Crosshair felt his fist curl at his sides, and this should’ve been his opening to slide away unnoticed until he looked down and saw a brown leather book. Crosshair halted and lifted a gloved hand to the soft worn cover, running his fingers over the engravings in the bound leather. He opened the cover, seeing it was a blank notebook, and it had a writing implement tucked into the spine. Not many people recorded things the traditional way anymore; datapads were much more efficient and stored more information than the pages of a notebook. He flicked through the pages, fanning them with his thumb. The dust drifted up and it was a smell he didn’t recognise, but he supposed it was the smell of paper.

“That’s a good choice.”

Crosshair retracted his hand as if he was a cadet being scolded, and looked up at the vendor, who held an oversized pot that would break the second it came aboard the Marauder.

“That would be a perfect gift,” the vendor continued, nodding at the notebook.

Crosshair looked at him before picking up the notebook – more surely this time, and turned it over in his hands. He imagined you in your bunk, scribbling in it at night with a torch in one hand. He imagined you keeping it under your pillow for safekeeping. He imagined you doodling in it, showing him your drawings with that smile on your face. He imagined drawing in it with you. The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

“How much?” Crosshair asked.

“It’s yours.”

Crosshair’s head snapped towards the vendor. “What?”

The vendor waved him away. “Take it.”

Crosshair blinked, confused. “…I have to pay you.”

“No, you don’t. I’ve been trying to sell that for years. You’d be doing me a favour.”

Crosshair furrowed his brow. “…Isn’t the customer supposed to be right?”

The vendor barked out a laugh. “Not this time, my friend.”

Crosshair dug into his pocket anyway and pulled out half the credits. “For your patience…at least.”

The vendor chuckled and took them. “Thank you. I hope your friend likes it.”

Crosshair didn’t respond as the man turned away, placing the pot down before calling out to other marketgoers, trying to entice them.

Crosshair walked back through the market, the notebook feeling heavy in his hand. Leaving the village, he made his way back to the Marauder, thoughts swimming in his head.

Kriff, what if you hated it? Or thought it was stupid? What if all his knowledge on birthdays was completely inaccurate and you would think him strange for giving you something? Or what if you just thought he was weird for getting you something at all?

Crosshair’s grip on the notebook tightened. He just wanted to do something nice. Like you always did for them. But this is why he avoided it. It was so vulnerable being nice. Being nice left you open for hurt, open for aching. It was much easier to keep it at bay, to restrict it. To hide it behind actions inconspicuously where it wasn’t out in the open. Being so open with it for you…he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it scared him. The doubt crept in. Crosshair had conviction and confidence, and he wasn’t used to it wavering like this.

He was just about ready to throw the notebook into a bush and never speak of it again when he heard your voice ring out from the steps of the Marauder.

“Crosshair!”

You placed your datapad down and ran over to him. He hid the notebook behind his back with both hands, gripping it so hard he knew his knuckles would be white as you approached him with a smile.

“Hey,” he said, hoping he sounded normal.

“Where’d you go? You disappeared after the mission.”

“I was just…looking for something,” he said carefully. Dank farrik, how was he supposed to do this? He thought he might just leave it on your bunk when you were distracted with a little note written inside the cover saying, ‘Happy Birthday’. That way he could avoid your reaction when you saw it. He didn’t even know how to get into the Marauder with it now that you were here in front of him.

You tilted your head with a quizzical smile. “Looking for something?”

Crosshair nodded. “I couldn’t find it,” he lied.

“Oh…okay,” you looked at him weirdly. Would you look at him like that when you saw his gift?

Crosshair nodded to the Marauder, desperate to get on board and stow the notebook away until he could leave it on your bunk. “Should we go inside?”

You looked at him, narrowing your eyes. “What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything, meshurok,” he lied, his grip tightening again.

“Yes, you are,” you sidestepped him to look behind him and he leapt out of the way. You grinned. “You are! What are you hiding, Cross? Why can’t I see?” you tried to chase him around, but Crosshair kept angling himself away. Kriff, he had never felt so stupid in his whole life.

“It’s nothing. Get your meddling hands away from me, you di’kut,” he walked backwards in a circle, his face and neck hot.

“Crosshair,” you chided, smiling at him. “Come on, is it really that bad?”

“Go away,” he grumbled, hands aching from holding the damned notebook so tight.

“Crosshair,” you said his name again, and your face was stretched in that playful grin that he’d unwillingly memorised. That thing in his stomach flickered again.

Then he remembered how you didn’t tell him about your birthday. And how you were friends, but you didn’t say anything about it. And how he had this unexplainable feeling he couldn’t name sitting in his stomach that compelled him to go to a village market and pick out a stupid gift for a birthday tradition he didn’t even understand just to do something nice for you the way you did for him and his brothers.

Crosshair’s expression flared and he shoved the notebook at your chest. You startled at your hand came up to grab it, sliding against his like a searing snake. He pulled his hand back and balled both at his sides as he gritted out, “Happy birthday.”

All he saw was your eyes were wide before he stalked off, almost stomping his way to the Marauder. His face burned, and embarrassment flooded his body. He felt so stupid, and he hated feeling stupid. He hated the feeling of being on the end of someone’s judgement. He hated knowing that he’d just been forced to make himself vulnerable. But mostly, he hated the feeling of you not trusting him with what was supposed to be the important parts of you.

“Crosshair!”

Your voice came from behind him, but he didn’t turn around. He was already planning different ways he could avoid you. He was going to lock himself in the ‘fresher until the next mission and make sure Hunter placed him on watch at opposite times to you. Whatever it took. His heart panged. You were one of the only people outside his brothers he liked. He would mourn the shared jokes and laughter, and time spent with you, knowing it couldn’t happen anymore.

“Crosshair, wait.”

He felt a hand on his arm pull him back. He swayed backwards, but he let you stop him. He avoided your gaze, scowl burning an outline in his brow as he stared off into the middle distance. Your hand stayed on his arm, and he felt it through the plastoid wrapped around his forearm, squeezing him there. It felt like part of him, and that made him feel both warm with content and spiked with anger simultaneously.

“Cross, please look at me,” your voice said quietly, and his heart squeezed. He slowly moved his gaze, looking down, then sliding his eyes to your bare hand on his arm before they lifted to your face. Your brows were slanted downwards, looking at him with such softness in your eyes he felt the flickering in his chest again.

“How did you…” your voice was soft and trailed off, notebook in your other hand.

“It doesn’t matter,” he dismissed with gritted words.

He felt your hand flex with your grip. “It does to me.”

He studied your face carefully before saying, “…I was helping Tech with cataloguing his files. I saw your birthday in yours.”

You continued looking at him with an indecipherable gaze and moved your hand slowly from his arm to his wrist, your bare fingertips brushing his gloves. You gently grazed his fingers as you let his hand drop softly. He watched you as you inspected the book, hands turning it over, fanning through the pages. He studied your expression, trying to discern what you thought, feeling anxiety grow in his stomach, his throat tightening. He felt something hot poke inside him as he watched your mouth turn up into a smile as you gazed at his gift.

“I’ve been so busy this year that I forgot about my birthday.”

Crosshair hoped he hid his surprise. You not telling him about your birthday…it was never about him. Of course, you had forgotten. The past six cycles had been a whirlwind for you trying to adjust to a soldier’s lifestyle, countless missions and trying to fit in with his brothers. His face burned again. He was a fool.

You looked up at him, a smirk itching the corners of your mouth. “Been too busy keeping you boys in line.”

Crosshair scoffed lightly, letting a puff of breath out of his nose. Your smile widened.

“This is a beautiful gift, Cross. Thank you for getting it for me,” you place your hand on his arm again, squeezing gently to show your appreciation He felt his heart lift and his cheeks redden, but this time, not in embarrassment.

He nodded at you. “I’m…glad you like it. I don’t have much experience with birthdays.”

Your smile touched the edges of your eyes. “That’s what makes it even more special.”

You reached up on your tip toes and wrapped your arms around his neck, embracing him. Crosshair stiffened in shock and surprise before he slowly wrapped his arms around your torso. His fingers grazed your sides, and there was something wildly comforting about holding you like this. He could feel the side of your face pressed into his neck, just below his ear, and your breath tickled the sliver of open skin not covered by his blacks. You were so warm. He felt you squeeze him gently and he didn’t stop himself from squeezing back.

You were his best friend, after all.

You pulled away, but not before you cupped his face and placed a kiss on his cheek. Crosshair flinched and his eyes widened as you lowered yourself back down on flat feet with one of the most joyful smiles he’d ever seen gracing your face. The action had surprised him more than anything else had.

“I’m going to show everyone what you got me,” you said before running off towards the Marauder.

“No, don’t, they’ll—” Crosshair started but you were already halfway up the gangplank. His brothers’ teasing was going to be ruthless.

He sighed, shaking his head before following you, that thing flickering in his chest. He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t try to extinguish it.

banner art by @vimse

mando'a / meshurok = gemstone thank you for reading! i did find this one slightly challenging bc it's very much crosshair in his head and i tried to write him how i thought he would react to a situation like this, but if it's a little OOC, i apologise! but i think he would react like this if someone he cared about didn't tell him something important about them; someone who was his friend and who he liked very much. i think he'd be kinda mad and hurt but he cares too much to not do anything at all. i have more gen requests on the way, so stay tuned if you're interested! <3

tags @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @snarky-mans-gf @chopper-base @wenalena @shredderwest @leavingkamino @rexamongthestars @r2d2staser @bluebird-dreams @pb-jellybeans @a-streakofblue @theawkwardartist12 @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo

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