#or if its just me and having to watch that man eat candles on tv for a world record | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kenmei · 4 years ago

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-ˏˋ EVERYTHING BUT! ˊˎ-

♡ gn!reader x boyfriend!sakusa kiyoomi

cw: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, slice of life, a pinch? of toxic behaviour, kinda suggestive somewhere in the middle, timeskip!au, established relationship!au

synopsis: in the times where home doesn’t feel like how it should, somewhere along the blurred lines of forgiven and guilty, “i’m home” gains back its familiarity

wc: 1900+

notes from mei!

happy bday to omi omi!!

it’s routine.

“i’m home.”

words that are familiar leave his lips; an expected response lingers in the air—it’s routine. the problem is, he’s only met with silence and an unusually cold apartment complex.

there are leftovers on the island; down the hallway leading to yours and his shared room, the lights are off. kiyoomi sighs, shrugging off his coat and not bothering to keep the sound of his dangling keys to a minimum.

and for the fifth time that week, he eats dinner alone.

the next morning proceeds as usual. quiet good mornings, a kiss to the cheek that feels robotic. he makes the food and you make the coffee; working in tandem as the news fills the silence between you both.

“i’m going out today.” you say, spoon clanking against the mugs as you’re pouring in the creamer. “hairi’s birthday.” you add.

he doesn’t turn to face you. “okay.”

you both eat in silence, not bothering to make small talk because the last time you tried, it ended up in a fight that brings you to your situation right now.

the night after, you both “made up,” but after a day and a half passed, he snapped at you more harshly than usual, giving you the silent treatment and coming home extra late just to get on your nerves.

tired of being a verbal punching bag, you reverted back into the person you promised you wouldn’t be again, because you wanted to be better—because you trusted in him enough that he wouldn’t make you feel that kind of pain again.

but now you’re here.

the words scratch at your throat as you open the front door. it’s dark, but you hear the shower running.

you’re not sure why you suddenly feel so anxious, but then again, you dreaded the entire uber ride “home.”

because as much as you love kiyoomi, he’s dragged you to hell and back for the past week and a half. as much as you’re willing to put up with his bullshit because you know he’s just like that, you’re not sure if this relationship is even worth it anymore.

it’s because you know his bad sides, good sides, everything-in-between-sides, you can’t find it in you to say something other than a half-assed sorry because you don’t want to drag things out.

you don’t want to lose him because he’s still your kiyoomi.

he’s the boy who shared his umbrella with you in high school, the boy who threw his jacket on your head because you never listened to him when he said it’s cold out, wear a jacket.

the man who makes you play with his hair; the one who likes to be babied from time to time. don’t leave, he used to say, arms trapping you to his chest as you both wasted an hour in each other’s embrace.

in every season, all your favourite memories involve him.

and you’re being honest when you say you don’t want anything else—anyone else, but him. he’s a part of you now, and after him, you never thought of life without him.

but as you sit on the couch, head hung low, you think, perhaps, life would be better.

you fell in love rather young, at seventeen where love was like sunshine and rainbows. seventeen, where you didn’t know any other romantic kind of love besides him.

but now you’re twenty-three, where love feels more or less of a shitty scripted tv show. twenty-three, where you know there are many different kinds of love besides romantic.

“what are you doing?”

like you’ve been programmed, you stand. “sorry. i was waiting for you to finish.”

you brisk by him, blindly picking some clothes to use for pyjamas.

and he lets you, waiting for you to finish.

as you’re settling into bed, his lips find yours in a teeth-clashing, empty manner. naturally, you return, unaware of the void in your eyes as you humour him.

hands find their way underneath your shirt and you tense up.

he pulls away. “what’s wrong with you?”

“what do you mean?” you reply, pushing him off you. “...i’m kissing you back? why are you complaining?”

“you’re so bland lately.” he scowls, “you never say anything besides sorry! it’s like i’m dating a fucking statue!”

with the remnants of liquid courage swishing in your bloodstream, you snap, “what the fuck am i supposed to say besides sorry?!” you say, keeping a level-tone as you look at him in disbelief, anger bubbling in your veins. “you’re always mad at me and i’ve done nothing! you keep taking your bad days out on me!”

“that’s because you never do anything right!”

your mouth falls open in bewilderment. getting out of bed, you grab your phone. “fuck you.” you spit, “go find someone else. i’m not dealing with you anymore.”

a shout of your name, the sound of something falling to the floor.

the click of the front door doesn’t let you hear anything else.

kiyoomi<3: please come home

kiyoomi<3: where are you?

kiyoomi<3: talk to me baby please

“no.” you scoff, powering off your phone. you throw it to the other end of your hotel bed, grabbing your laptop.

two days.

(you wish it wasn’t like this).

glancing at the time, you think now would be a good time to go back to the apartment. he’s at practice and you need to start getting your shit out of his place.

your phone beeps a few more times and you wonder why he’s texting so much when he’s at practice. but then again, desperateness isn’t something to take lightly.

and you want to laugh at him, because now, when you’ve left, he’s texting you nonstop, leaving you a shit ton of voicemails you don’t even bother listening to.

your chest hurts, you’re sure everyone and their mother’s can tell you’re literally lifeless as you drag yourself to your car.

the drive is quiet and full of an empty head. you might’ve accidently ran one or two red lights, but you can’t find it in you to care.

jiggling your keys, you swing the door open, expecting to be met with emptiness.

but he’s there, on the couch with his head hung low, phone in his hands.

it looks like he’s pleading to the phone. you take note of his disheveled appearance and apartment. his head shoots up when he hears keys jingle, eyes widening before his eyes gloss over when he takes in your somewhat put together appearance.

you move to close the door, to leave him in there, but his voice stops you from shutting the door all the way.

“wait!”

it’s desperate and broken, you mentally smack yourself in the head for opening the door again. he relaxes a bit when he sees you again, mouth opening before it shuts abruptly.

he doesn’t know what to say.

and before he can get his head to work right, you turn left and go down the hallway, shoes on and all.

he follows, silently, watching in pain as you grab your duffle bag and start stuffing clothes in it.

he follows, chest pinching and palms sweating as you move around the room, shoving whatever you can into your bag.

you don’t even know why he’s here. he never misses practice.

“please.”

your back is facing him as the words, quiet and heavy, leave his lips. you choose to ignore him, rummaging through your bedside drawer in case there’s anything you might need.

a call of your name.

“stop.” you mutter, scratching your eyebrow in irritation. “we’re not doing this again.”

your lip trembles, you take a deep breath to try and stop the tears from falling.

it hurts to see him like this. your chest aches when you see the bags under his eyes and the tear stains on his cheeks. “we’re not doing this again.” you repeat, an attempt to solidify yourself, but instead, you’re sobbing quietly into your bedside drawer, a polaroid of you and him staring back at you.

“i can’t do this.” you cry, recalling his hurtful words.

frantically wiping your tears, you reach into the desk to flip the picture backward.

“i’m sorry, y/n.” he says, voice wavering.

it’s only been two days, but he feels like he’s been through a century. he thought he’d be fine, that you’d come back.

but after having his texts being left on delivered and his calls going straight to voicemail, the buildup of everything and the reality of everything punched him in the gut.

a home that was once full of love. a home that was once so easy to come home to.

it’s scary how fast everything went tumbling down.

and kiyoomi’s more than aware of how selfish he is. coming home to everything being in it’s exact place isn’t all that odd, he just loathes coming home to everything being in it’s exact place, but you’re not there.

your candle you love so much stares at him. pictures hung of you and him mock him.

everything in this apartment, it was there. everything but you.

and it drove him crazy.

you, the only one he’s ever felt so strongly for. you, the one who makes home feel like home.

but as he stares at your back, tears of his own getting caught in his lashes, he hates that he makes this “home” of yours and his, feel unfamiliar.

and kiyoomi isn’t good, he knows he isn’t. he’s selfish and he likes things done his way because he likes things done right.

but he doesn’t know how to make this right. he loves you so much, but all he can do now is watch as you suffer.

he knows his problem, he knows his shortcomings, his faults—kiyoomi’s had too much time to be fucked up by it all. but the only thing he doesn’t know how to do right, is to fix the problems before his eyes.

a second passes and he finds his body moving before he can think.

he pulls you into his chest, uncaring of your fists pounding against his chest. he holds you tighter because this could be the last time.

and kiyoomi wishes he could do it all over—to go back in time and be the person he promised himself he’d be for you, his supposed forever.

“i’m sorry.” he whispers into your hair. “i know you’re tired, but please let me apologize to you, i don’t want you to walk out that door thinking the things i’ve said to you are true. they aren’t, i swear.”

his arms tighten around you when you stop fighting against his embrace. “all those things i’ve said and done that hurt you, i didn’t mean.”

“i know that, kiyoomi.” you cry, “but i can’t do this anymore.”

“don’t say that.” he pleads, “please, y/n, let me try again.”

and you’re crying because it’s so raw and real. his voice is so gentle and his embrace feels so soothing.

this is all you want. to be in his arms and be held together by him.

he gets his response when your arms circle around his middle, when you bury your face into him and grant his wishes of letting him fix the mess he made of you and him.

“thank you.” he whispers, a choked sob breaking free and he pulls your impossibly closer.

it’s half-past two and everything is where it’s meant to be.

(i'm home).

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marginalmadness · 4 years ago

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Summer Nights: 2/4

Pairing: Rabbit!Hybrid Jungkook x Y/N

Rating: Mature (later explicit)

Genre: Hybrid!Fantasy, Romance, Fluff

Synopsis: A freak weather anomaly leads to a chance encounter with a rabbit-hybrid, and your kind nature results in you gaining a small, fluffy lodger, who questions your taste in television shows. It’s won’t be for long…will it?

Warnings/Tags: This chapter involves Jungkook going into heat.

Author’s Note: If I called @johobi patient before, I fucked up the tenses to bad in this chapter, it took her HOURS to fix. But she approved of the chapter which I’m happy about because this is the one I was most worried about. Jungkook Goes into heat in this chapter, and I hope nobody wants to kill me when they finish it. Chapter 3 is only a week away! <3

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Tags: @kookiebunny97 @mintyrae @skswriting

Word Count: 5.6K

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction for entertainment purposes only. The events depicted here are entirely of my own imagining, and have no basis on actual people or events.

I hope everyone is enjoying BE, and Life Goes On.

Summer Nights: Chapter Two

The next morning is the first day of your new-new normal. You wake to the sound of music coming from the living room. You pull yourself to your feet, shuffling from your bed to find the sourc

The next morning is the first day of your new-new normal. You wake to the sound of music coming from the living room. You pull yourself to your feet, shuffling from your bed to find the source of the enchanting sound. To your shock and delight, you find Jungkook hopping around the kitchen happily, ears and hair bouncing as he sings along to the radio and prepares pancakes. His voice is divine. You stand there enraptured, caught under his spell. He drops the spatula in fright when he turns to find you leaning against the wall, watching him silently.

“Please continue,” you urge him. But he shakes his head, blushing and hiding behind his ears. “Your voice is so pretty. Please?” you coax, stepping towards him. Jungkook considers you from behind his ears for a second. Then, tentatively, he picks up the spatula and resumes his song while he washes it clean.

From that day onwards, he wakes you each morning the same way, voice drifting through the bedroom door he leaves slightly ajar. There’s always a stack of warm, fluffy pancakes waiting for you in the kitchen, and beside it a bowl of yogurt-drizzled fruit. As soon as you’re seated, Jungkook extends a freshly brewed cup of breakfast tea to you. You eat together in the early morning light, the radio playing in the background. And while you get ready for work, Jungkook cleaned up the dishes from breakfast.

Domestic heaven.

At the end of your work day, you come home and thank God he’s still there. Sometimes he’s typing away on your laptop. Jungkook signed up as a freelance transcriber as a way to make money while staying with you. It was something to do while you were at work, too, restless soul that he is. Sometimes, though, you come home to find him flopped on his side in a patch of sun, having a nap as a bunny.

You cook dinner together now. Well, when you say together, you mean you take his direction, since Jungkook is a much better cook than you. He uses some of his free time to look up recipes he thinks you’ll like.

It’s ridiculously heartwarming.

After dinner, as is your routine, you split the washing up and curl up together to watch some Netflix. On the days you do all the washing up, Jungkook doesn’t fight you for control of the TV.

You still tease him over the first and only time you watched a horror movie. The first jump-scare forced him into rabbit form and he leapt into your lap in fright. Jungkook spent the entire movie there, shivering. And the rest of the night he spent pressed against your side in a tight, furry ball. Of course, the next day he insisted he wasn’t that scared, he just didn’t want to bother you by transforming back and forth.

He did a similar thing when you were watching a sappy romantic movie, but you don’t tease him about that. The second you noticed him sniffling at the lovers’ separation, he turned into a rabbit and hopped off his chair and over to you. You expected him to come cuddle, but he scrambled onto the back of the sofa and situated himself by your head instead. Every time there was a particularly romantic moment, he would nudge you with his nose and tickle you with his whiskers. And when he was feeling particularly bold, he’d grip your shoulder with his front claws and rub his chin over your cheek and neck. It tickled so much it made you squirm.

After extricating yourself from his clutches, a quick search on the internet told you that rabbits do this to mark their territory. You have trouble looking him in the eye the rest of that day. You know he’s attracted to you; have done since that first night. But he’s been ever so respectful. For some reason, the thought of him marking you as his makes your skin flush and burn.

Shopping for groceries is an experience, too. Jungkook skips around the store, picking multiple things up, asking you if you like them before throwing them in the shopping cart. It doesn’t matter whether you need them or not, just if you like it. That’s good enough for Bun. He’s so happy and energetic, his smile wide and eyes sparkling until you bend over into a freezer to pick up some ice cream. When you turn back, Jungkook is clinging to the cart, his eyes wide and entire body stock-still. All but his foot as it wildly pounds the ground.

“You okay, Bun?” you ask with a tilt of your head. His mouth drops open into a shape as round as his eyes. Mimicking you, Jungkook tilts his head before blinking and shaking it. And then he coughs, practically vibrates, before muttering something about cereal and running off in the opposite direction of the cereal.

Ever since that peculiar day, Jungkook has insisted on going grocery shopping alone. Something about getting out of the house and becoming more independent. But he blushes and averts his eyes as he says it, foot tapping wildly until he kicks over a plant pot. He cleans up the mess without another word, chewing on one of its stricken leaves and purposefully avoiding your eyes for the rest of the day.

Your weekends become different too. Before Bun arrived, you’d spent them relaxing after your work week, alone and in peace. Now you have a tiny, demanding rabbit that follows you around your apartment, tripping you up. And now you also have a fully grown, demanding man. A roommate - for lack of a better word - with which to do things. Now you have Saturday walks in the park and Sunday brunches. Imagine that.

Jungkook is incredibly physical. Forever moving, rarely still, bouncing from foot to foot, wiggling when excited. When you praise him, he claps and dances. The day you get a promotion at work, he hugs you so tightly, lifting you up and spinning you in the air because he’s simply that happy. He binkies about in excitement just as much as he did in bunny form, long hair and floppy ears bouncing wildly as his eyes crinkle in happiness, sending things flying in his excitement. You’ve already replaced one particular lamp three times.

But then Jungkook starts marking his territory in human form, too.

You’re chopping something for dinner on some nondescript day when Jungkook approaches you from behind, hands sliding gently over your hips. You could shake him off easily if you wanted to. But you find yourself not wanting to. His chin rests on your shoulder as though he’s just watching you work, but then the subtle rub starts. Across your shoulder and into the crook of your neck, until an involuntary shudder runs down your spine. It snaps Jungkook back to his senses and he pulls away.

—-

The day everything changed was the day from hell. Work had been awful, just one fuck up after another. None of which were even your fault, but all of which you were expected to fix.

You come home to a tidy apartment, subtle scented candles burning and soft music playing. Jungkook is in the kitchen cooking, and you’re sure the ingredients you can smell are ones he’s shopped for today.

“Welcome home.” He smiles over his shoulder at you. “Dinner is almost done if you want to get washed up.” He turns back to stir the pan on the stove. When you walked through the front door you were on the verge of tears. Now your eyes are misting up for the complete opposite reason.

You drag your sorry ass over to him and practically collapse against his wide, strong back, wrapping your arms around his tiny waist like he often does you.

“Thank you,” you practically sob into his shirt, screwing your eyes closed in an effort to not actually cry. You try to keep the emotion out of your voice but Jungkook knows you well enough to sense you’re upset by something. He immediately switches off the stove burners and turns to wrap his arms tightly around you, holding you without a second thought.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, voice full of concern. Large, strong hands brush the hair back from your face.

“I just had a really shit day, and you just—” You turn, arms flailing, motioning to the clean apartment and dinner on the stove. Jungkook nods in understanding. “—you made it all better.” His eyes go round as he blinks at you in shock, before melting into something warm. He tucks your hair behind your ears and tilts your head as he moves in, as though he were going to kiss you. Your eyes flutter closed as his nose brushes yours, but his lips never touch yours. “What’s this?” you ask in a whisper, blinking your eyes open to find him smiling at you softly.

“A rabbit thing,” he says simply, resting his forehead against yours with a soft grunt of air. It doesn’t quite reach a growl. You know it's a rabbit thing; you researched. But you didn’t expect it in human form.

“Okay.” You don’t push, don’t demand an explanation for a deeper meaning, just accept the affection from him. You lean in and brush your nose against his in return, causing him to gasp and grunt again, hand moving from your face to your waist. It lingers there for a few seconds before Jungkook gently, physically, pushes you away, his large eyes looking bigger than usual. His pupils are blown out, almost entirely black. Breath comes from his parted lips in short pants and huffs.

“You should get cleaned up while I finish dinner,” he says softly, stepping backwards. There’s an arm’s length of space between you now. You nod at him, hands finding his, giving him a squeeze as you back out of the kitchen. You don’t let go until the space between you is too far for your fingertips to touch. His eyes don’t leave you until you’re completely out of sight.

You close the door quietly, leaning your forehead against it and taking slow, deep, grounding breaths, trying to calm the racing of your heart. What was that? Sure, it isn’t the first time he’s done it; he did it on the night he transformed and kissed you. Somehow, though, it felt as intimate as him kissing you again. Is it wrong to feel this way towards Jungkook? He’s your Bun, your charge; you’re his caretaker. Are you taking advantage of him? Is he only acting like this because he’s thankful to you for taking care of him?

You push off and away from the door, feeling heavy. It’s almost like there’s a rope connecting you to Jungkook and forever pulling you towards him. You change out of your work clothes into something more comfortable. If that more comfortable thing happens to be something just a little clingy in certain, flattering places, and it makes you feel pretty, then you tell yourself you need the ego boost after the day you had. It has absolutely nothing to do with wanting to look good for Jungkook. You head to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your hair into something more relaxed before returning to the kitchen. And Jungkook.

“Nope!” Jungkook yells, stopping you before you can even enter the kitchen, two strong hands taking you by the shoulders, turning you around and practically marching you towards the living room. You pout over your shoulder at him, but he’s just grinning and laughing at your pouty face. You slump onto the sofa and he leans over the back of it, hovering over you, his eyes crinkling as he laughs musically. Ever so carefully he takes you by the jaw, rubbing his chin over your head, tilting you to the side so he can whisper in your ear.

“Sit and relax, I’ll bring you dinner.” His voice is light and full of joy.

You sit and pout, grabbing the remote to put some music on. At the exact moment you drop it back to the table, a bowl of food is placed in front of you. You blink up at a grinning Jungkook as he retreats eagerly to the kitchen, presumably for drinks. His enthusiasm is infectious. You pick up the bowl of pasta, twirling your fork in the creamy sauce and noodles, and take a big bite. It’s delicious. Delicious enough to have you moaning with pleasure and sliding back against the couch.

“Kookie, this is amazing!” you groan, licking the sauce from your lips.

Jungkook stares at you, eyes wide, focused on your tongue as it slides along your lips. You hadn’t even realised he’d come back from the kitchen. He places a glass of wine on the table in front of you, ducking his head and hiding behind his ears as he shuffles to his spot on the sofa, bowl in hand. You watch him slyly out of the corner of your eye. His face is so red, so glowing you can almost feel the heat radiating from it. “I made it,” he says, still staring intently at his food. “I found a recipe online I thought you would like.”

“From scratch?” you ask, amazed. He nods, biting his lip and refusing to look at you. You reach across the space between you and thread your fingers into his soft, wavy locks, rubbing the spot just behind one of his floppy ears. “Bun this is amazing, it tastes amazing!” His head lifts up, eyes so big they sparkle in the low light. “You’re amazing,” you whisper in a soft voice. Jungkook ducks his head again, hiding once more behind his long ears and curly hair. He eats his food slowly, more picking at it than anything. You, on the other hand, tuck in enthusiastically, all manners and grace gone, letting him see and hear your enjoyment of the food. You know how much it pleases him when you unabashedly enjoy his cooking. When you ask for seconds, handing him your empty bowl, Jungkook binkies across the room to the kitchen, bouncing on his heels as he piles a second serving of noodles and sauce into your bowl.

He hands it back to you soon after and sits beside you on the sofa, knees curling under himself. Reclining on the back cushions, he observes you as you eat, arms crossed and eyes sparkling. When you’re half way through your second serving and can’t eat a bite more, he whisks away the dishes and returns quickly to your side.

Jungkook flops over and places his head in your lap. “Will you…” He bites his lip, turning to bury his face in your sweater, his cheeks burning crimson again.

“What? What do you want, Kookie?” you ask, carding your fingers through his hair and rubbing a thumb over the gentle fur of his ear. It twitches repeatedly.

“Just this. Will you play with my hair? Stroke my ears?” he asks in a small voice. It’s unusually meek for him in his human form.

“Of course I will, Bun. Anything you want.” You smile, running your fingers through his hair, nails trailing down his scalp. His leg kicks out, narrowly missing the coffee table. You hand him the remote. “Pick something to watch.”

Jungkook shuffles, turning to face the TV. With his head still in your lap, he curls up into a ball, enjoying your ministrations. You continue to pet him, running your fingers through his hair and stroking his ears, twirling locks of hair around your finger before releasing the resulting curl. You lounge there together, the stress of the day bleeding away from you thanks to a stomach full of good food and your hand tangled in the hair of—Jungkook—whatever he was to you right now.

You don’t know exactly when you fall asleep, but you wake to strong arms holding you, carrying you to your room. Jungkook places you delicately on your bed and you fling yourself backwards, curling up to drift off again. But before long you’re being shaken gently awake and sat back up. Soft, cotton pajamas are pushed into your hands.

“You need to get changed,” a soft, deep voice says firmly in your ear. A warm body presses against your back.

You pout, eyes resolutely closed, but begin taking off your sweater. Large hands help you when you get tangled on your arms. It’s even more of a struggle to unhook your bra. You flail for a while before dropping your arms and slumping back against Jungkook with a tired, pathetic whine. If you were properly awake you might have noticed how his breath hissed through his teeth, or how his nose rubbed your temple.

With more force than is probably necessary, Jungkook grips you by the shoulder and props you forward. Then, with just one finger, he pulls your bra band away from your back, taking all care not to touch you at all. By some black magic he manages to unhook it, sliding the straps down and off your arms before discarding it on the floor. Not once does he look over your shoulder. He pulls the camisole of your pajama set over your head, guiding your arms through the straps before you wake enough to take over and pull both arms through.

“Now the shorts,” he grunts, low and gruff. It’s unusual enough that you pout at him over your shoulder.

“Bossy bunny,” you mumble, standing and kicking off the comfy leggings you had on. Somewhere in the back of your head you register a soft ‘”shit’” that you’re too tired to acknowledge. You pull on your shorts and sit back down, immediately flopping to your pillow. You feel your body being turned, tucked beneath the sheet pulled over you. Sleep comes easily to you after that.

—-

You wake up while it’s still dark outside. Jungkook’s chest is hot against your back, his knees curled and tucked behind yours. A muscled arm hangs heavily over your waist, keeping you close to him. You lift it as carefully as possible and slide out of bed, tip-toeing stealthily across the soft carpet and out of the room. You head to the kitchen and grab a glass in the dark, in search of a drink for your parched throat.

You drink your fill and shuffle back to bed, bringing a glass with you just in case. Although you slip into your room as stealthily as you’d left it, Jungkook is awake when you return. He sits with his arms wrapped around his knees, bottom lip snagged beneath his prominent front teeth.

“Kookie?” you ask softly in the darkness, making your way back to your side of the bed. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I just—I reached for you and you were gone,” he says, watching you place your glass of water down and climb back into bed. “I was waiting for you to come back.”

“Silly rabbit,” you coo. Jungkook rolls towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tangling a powerful, muscular leg with yours. You settle back, stroking his head and mulling over his unusual clinginess as sleep comes to claim you.

But then you feel a pressure against your thigh, and you’re suddenly very awake.

Jungkook undulates his hips to a subtle rhythm. “Wha-” you begin, turning to look at him. But he buries his nose beneath your jaw, his breath coming out in soft, heavy huffs in time with his movements. He grinds against your hip with a desperation. You swallow audibly, forcing yourself to ask as your face burns. “Jungkook, what are you doing?”

“Sorry,” he whines. “I can’t help it, I just—” He throws his thigh over your hips, shifting until he’s hovering over you, weight on his knees and forearms. His hips drop to roll against your stomach, a thick bulge straining the thin material of the pajama bottoms you had bought him. Jungkook ruts against your sweat-covered skin as you stare up at him, eyes wide, frozen in shock. Heat floods through you, stirring your insides until you’re panting. He is, too. His mouth hangs open as he huffs in time with his thrusts, lips grazing your jaw until they reach your mouth. He caresses it softly with his own, barely a whisper of a touch. Once. Twice. Just like that first night he turned. The third time, he kisses you. Your eyes flutter closed and you kiss him back. Nothing more than a delicate tilt of your head and a careful brushing of your lips against his. This is wrong, a voice in the back of your head whispers. This man is practically a stranger.

Only he’s not.

He’s shared your bed as a human for the past two weeks, and ten weeks before that as a rabbit.

You’ve spent evenings curled up together, watching shows you both enjoy. You know his moods, as he knows yours. Your hand feels as comfortable tangled in his hair as it does amongst his fur, and you can read his eyes in both forms exactly the same.

He’s your Jungkook. Your Kookie.

Your Bun.

He exhales heavily, his tongue lapping at your lips for more. Warm breath fans your face and you practically tremble with anticipation. Jungkook tears himself away to run his hands down the curves of your body, and as you look up at him, your mouth dries at the sight of his godly form. The ever-present glow of the city creates a subtle neon halo behind him, heightening his otherworldly, divine presence.

“I-I—“ As suddenly as he came onto you, Jungkook scrambles backwards off the bed, falling ungracefully to the floor. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry!” he yells, eyes watery and wide with terror. He rushes out of the room so quickly he doesn’t even stand up straight. Just heads straight for the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. You follow too late, reaching your bedroom doorway just in time to hear the bathroom lock snap into place.

You drop to your knees outside the bathroom door, knocking on it gently. “Jungkookie, what’s wrong? Please, come out,” you call.

“I can’t,” comes a whine from the other side of the door. It almost sounds like a sob. “I have to stay here. Can I have a blanket please?” The voice is strained and tight; unsure. It’s not like the warm, bright voice you’ve come to know at all.

“Okay,” you agree. “I’ll get that for you. I’ll be right back.” When you return with the requested blanket, you let Kookie know with a small knock on the door. He cracks it open just enough for you to push the bedding through. In doing so, you catch a glimpse of his eyes. They’re wide and a little teary, his pupils huge. His face and upper chest is worryingly flushed. Jungkook notices you scrutinising his appearance and slams the door shut before you can comment. You hover on the other side of the door, not wanting to leave him. “I’m not upset with you, Bun. I understand if you want some space. Good night.”

You shuffle your way back to bed, curling up under the duvet for the first time in weeks. Because despite the heat and humidity of summer, it feels far, far too cold.

—-

The fullness of your bladder wakes you, demanding you seek relief immediately. You can tell by the noise outside that it’s late morning, and you hope Jungkook is already awake. You roll out of bed and shuffle over to the bathroom, trying the handle and finding it still locked.

With a reluctant sigh, you knock. “Jungkookie? Bun, I need to pee. Can you let me in please?” A few moments later there’s shuffling behind the door and the soft click of a lock opening. A sunken-eyed Jungkook stands on the other side, eyes averted. The duvet you gave him wraps him like a shroud. It hangs over his head, hiding his ears, his hands clutching it tightly at his chest. He stares pointedly at his feet as he shuffles past you, and if it weren’t for your desperate need to pee you’d stop and talk to him. But that’s a conversation that can wait until you’ve made breakfast.

You finish in the bathroom as fast as possible and make your way to the kitchen, noticing how he sits curled up on the chair in the corner of your living room.

You pull out all the things you need to make pancakes and crank up the volume on an upbeat playlist; mostly songs Jungkook likes listening to in the mornings. “Jungkook, could you help me please?” you ask sweetly. “The strawberries and bananas need slicing.”

He perks up at that, ears twitching before his eyes dart over to you. He loves bananas, almost obsessively loves them. I knew that would work, you smile to yourself. Jungkook fiddles with the waistband of his pajamas and you try to forget the outline of his hardness straining against them. Try to forget how your skin flushed when he rocked it against you. You focus back on the batter, giving it an extra hard stir, making sure there’s no lumps in it. That’s the reason for you beating it so vigorously. No other reason.

You sigh, pinching yourself before switching on the burner on the stove.

Jungkook begins chopping fruit. Yes. You smile to yourself, watching him out of the corner of your eye as you work on two stacks of pancakes. The tension in the air between you two eases, and soon you’re both dancing to a song that Jungkook listens to often; its easy choreography something you developed together. The song changes into something new, something you’ve never heard before, but you sway your hips nevertheless as you ladle batter into the hot frying pan. Jungkook bounces from foot-to-foot, endlessly energetic as he works his way through half a bunch of bananas and the entire bowl of strawberries. He’s piling the chopped fruit up on plates when you push between him and the counter with a small, murmured excuse me. The step he takes back to allow you access isn’t quite big enough. Even then you don’t notice; so used to squeezing around one another in the modestly-sized kitchen as you are.

Jungkook, however, notices.

Your ass slides firmly against him and he grips your hips almost painfully hard, pressing you into the counter.

“Ow! Jungkook, what are you—” Your question becomes a squeal of surprise when he buries his nose behind your ear and grinds his rapidly hardening cock into the cleft of your ass. Only two, flimsy layers of clothing separate you.

“I need you so bad,” he growls as he rubs his nose through your hair, the underside of his chin skimming the column of your neck. You arch back into him, throwing your head back to expose more of your neck to him. You’re usually a lot more reserved with men—a lot—but something about Jungkook makes you want to be wild. Maybe it’s the way you feel so safe with him. His body is a solid presence against your back, his thrusting desperate and needy. Gone is the sweet, delicate Bun you’ve come to care about. He’s been replaced with someone who grips you, growls at you, and yet you still feel safe in his arms.

It’s Jungkook. He’d never hurt you.

You groan, something between a whine and a whimper being ripped from the back of your throat as he rubs himself against you. Then, suddenly - unwelcomely - cold air hits your back.

Jungkook has torn himself from you for a second time.

You turn but he’s not behind you. Spinning in place, you see a fluffy tail vanishing around a cabinet and a pair of light grey pajamas left in its wake. You follow fast enough to watch him hightail it out of the kitchen and across the living room, straight under the chair in the corner. He never sits in it as a human, preferring to sit next to you on the sofa, but it’s his favourite place to hide as a bunny.

You crouch, peeking under the chair, trying to coax him out.

“I’m sorry, Jungkookie. Come out and talk to me, please?” you beg to the huddled mass of fur under the chair. He stays where he is, shifting in a way you know means he’s settling in for the long haul. You stand up, running to turn off the stove before dashing to your bedroom and throwing on some clothes. After grabbing your bag, you check under the chair again. Jungkook is still there. “I’ll be right back, okay?” you tell him, before rushing out the door.

You all but run out of your apartment building, dodging people on the street as you head to the florist a block and a half away to get a custom bouquet made. It’s ugly as hell, but it’s not supposed to be for looking at. All of the flowers are suitable for rabbits to eat, and you get triple the ones you know Jungkook is particularly fond of.

You rush back to your apartment on a sliver of energy, taking extra care to preserve your gift, but the whole journey takes you less than twenty minutes. You discard your shoes and bag by the door and head straight for the chair, placing your peace offering on the floor before it.

“I have a gift for you,” you say, pulling a white hibiscus from the bouquet and presenting it to him. “Please come out and talk to me, Bun.” You watch as Jungkook hops forward, unable to resist the pull of his favourite flower. You untie the haphazard collection of flowers and lay them out on the decorative wrapping paper for him. It does the trick and draws him out from under the chair. You hold your hand out to him carefully, letting him come to you on his own terms. Jungkook devours a rosebud and hops forward, bumping your hand with his nose. You sigh, tension you didn’t know was building melting from your shoulders.

Somewhat placated, you head back to the kitchen. The pancakes are now cold but nothing that can’t be reheated. You store his breakfast in the fridge and slip a couple bits of banana onto the paper with the flowers. Jungkook leaps at them, devouring them with relish before following you into the kitchen and circling your chair as you eat your pancakes. He reaches up, nudging your foot to get your attention. And by attention, he wants more bananas.

Once you’re all done with breakfast, you move to the living room. There are several episodes of a TV show you and Jungkook have been watching together that you need to catch up on, and that’s your usual plan for the weekend. Jungkook, however, has other plans. He jumps into your lap, purposefully knocking the remote out of your hand. You tangle your fingers through his fur and feel him shudder under your touch.

“Do you want to tell me what's wrong now?” you ask softly, thumb rubbing soothing circles between his eyes. Beneath your hand, Jungkook transforms. He curls in on himself, doing his best to obscure his nudity, and buries his head in your stomach. You run a hand down his back and find his skin is clammy and feverish. “Oh my god, are you sick? Bun, you’re burning up!” you exclaim, panic injected into your tone.

“I’m going into heat. It’s why I keep—why I keep—” His voice is high-pitched and strained again.

“Why you keep rubbing against me?” you finish for him, raking your nails through his long locks. His ears and tail twitch and Jungkook whines. Nodding, he curls in on himself tighter. “You need a partner,” you say matter-of-factly, but he shakes his head in disagreement.

“No. I don’t need a partner...” he says simply, the implication left hanging. You move his ear carefully, brushing his hair from his face and cupping it with one hand. Your thumb strokes his cheekbone until his tightly-clenched eyes open.

“Then, tell me what you want,” you whisper. His eyes narrow like he’s assessing you. Assessing the full implication of your words and trying to decide how to answer you.

“Normally I’d mate with someone in a nest—” Jungkook starts before he’s racked by shudders. He buries his face in your stomach again and whines.

“My bed,” you offer. “You can build a nest there if you need to.”

He shoots upward at your words, watching your face carefully. “But—” His eyes are wide, mouth agape as he draws the logical conclusion but not daring to hope. “--where will you sleep?” He asks as though he is scared of the answer.

You carefully brush his hair back from his face, thumbing over a floppy ear. “I c-can—“ you stutter, before taking a deep breath. “I’ll figure something out.” You lean forward, pressing your forehead to his. Your lips are so close like this, close enough to brush against each other as you speak. It’s not quite a kiss, but your intention is clear. “If you need anything—if you want anything...” You trail off.

Jungkook wastes no time. He sits up and crawls into your lap, his bare, muscular thighs straddling yours as he kisses you deeply. His hands, no longer rough, cup your face delicately as though he can’t believe he’s been gifted something so precious. Even as his naked hips roll against your stomach.

“Iwantyouwantyouwantyou. Need you,” he chants between kisses.

And in an act of madness - or perhaps sanity - you give yourself to him completely.

Next Chapter

#Jungkook #Jeon Jungkook #Jungkook Fluff #Hybrid!Jungkook #Jungkook Smut #Jungkook x You #Jungkook x Reader #Bunny!Jungkook #Jungkook Fic #BTS #BTS Fic #MarginalMadness #commission #MM Summer Nights #Summer Nights #Hybrid!Koo in Heat #kookiebunny97 #mintyrae #skswriting

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quicksilverownsmysoul · 4 years ago

Text

Coffee of the Week pt.2

Icon credit: @thatspookyagent

Summary: This is the second part to Coffee of the Week, where Colin takes the reader out for their date. You can read Part 1 Here

Warnings: None this is pure fluff

Word Count: 2245

"So," Mare said in a bored voice. "Have you decided where you're taking her for your date tonight?" Colin paused for a moment before answering, which confirmed Mare’s suspicions

"No I have not." Colin said, doing his best to avoid Mare's judgmental eyes.

"Really man, you had all week to think of a place."

"I know." He signed leaning back in his chair, he swiveled it to the side to face Mare. "But like where would I even take her? There's only like three restaurants in Eastown."

"Hey!” Mare said defensively. "We have four restaurants you're forgetting the KFC that's attached to the Taco Bell." Mare joked as she began to put away her papers.

'My bad." Colin smiled to himself at Mare's little joke. It seems that lately she was warming up to him, it was nice to be able to joke and talk to her like this. He watched as she cleaned up the rest of her desk.

"But seriously where are you taking her." Mare glanced at the clock on her computer screen before shutting it down. "It's already 6:30 you should be getting ready by now."

Colin glanced down at himself. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing now?"

Mare pursed her lips. "Nothing. Just forget I said anything."

"See there's another thing I have to worry about now." Colin ran a hand down his face. "I haven't even been here that long so I don't really know where is a good place to eat at.” Colin sat with his head in his hands for a moment before lifting it up, eyes glancing towards Mare. He turned slowly towards Mare, a hopeful smile on his face. "Unless you-"

"No."

"Mare-"

"No."

"If you could recommend-"

"No."

"Mare please!” He had stood up at this point and moved towards Mare’s desk, she had scooted her chair away from his approaching form, her face scrunched up at his persistent pleading. “Please tell me where to take her! I really like her and I don’t wanna mess up." Mare finally glanced over at him through the corner of her eye. He looked like a kicked puppy, he was so desperate it physically hurt her.

She sighed. "Fine." Colin's face split open in a wide smile. "Stop that." She snapped, he immediately tried to change his facial expression back to neutral but Mare could see he was trying to fight back his smile. "You should take her to the Italian restaurant that's near the center of town, one of my friends works there." She tore a piece of paper off one of her reports. "Tell her that Mare sent you and she'll make sure to give you a good table and treat you and (y/n) well." She handed the paper over to Colin.

His eagerly grabbed it and smiled widely at Mare, "Thank you so much Mare you-"

She held her hand up to silence him, pointing an accusing finger. "Don't make this into a big deal detective." Mare shrugged on her coat and made her way towards the door. "And if you tell her it's a date she'll throw in a free dessert.

"Thank y-"

"Not. A. Big. Deal." Mare slammed the door shut. Colin smiled at her fading figure, she was definitely warming up to him.

Colin’s heart was beating out of his chest as he pulled up to your house, a million thoughts running through his head. Things like was he too early? It was only 7:30 he wasn't supposed to pick you up till 8:00. What if you weren't ready, was he dressed up enough, was he over dressed?? He shook his head trying to clear all the thoughts that plagued him.

He made his way to your front door and after a few seconds of hesitation rang your doorbell. The sound of loud barking made him jump up in surprise. “I’m coming.” He heard your voice yell and the sounds of your footsteps approaching the door. You opened the door with a smile, you were holding a big fluffy dog by its collar as it strained against your hold. “Hey Colin! Sorry about him, he always barks when someone is at the door.” He glanced down at the dog, it was eagerly trying to pull its way towards him, tail wagging intensely. “Let me go put him outside. I don’t want him jumping all over you.”

With zero hesitation Colin said. “Let him go.”

“What?” You asked in surprise.

“Let him go, I wanna meet him.”

You let out a little laugh.“ Are you sure? He’s a jumper.”

“Of course!” You let go of your dog’s collar and he went barreling towards Colin, who was squatting down with his arms wide open. Your dog ran into his arms and knocked him flat on his back. You rushed forward to pull your dog back until you saw Colin laughing. Your dog was licking him all over while Colin nestled his face into your dog’s fur. “You’re such a good boy aren't you?” Colin asked as he petted your dog, your dog just wagged his tail even faster and tried to lick Colin’s face even more, you smiled at the sight

“It seems he likes you.” You giggled out.

“What’s his name?”

“His name is Tino.”

“Hello Tino, I’m Colin.” Colin shook your dogs paw introducing himself. You smiled at his antics and squatted down next to him, rubbing Tino’s soft ears in your hand. “What kinda dog is he?”

“I’m not sure, I adopted him from the center in town and no one seemed to know what kind he was.” Colin nodded at your answer and tried his best to stand back up, it was a task in itself since Tino kept trying to knock him back down. You stood up as well and let out a small laugh at Colin’s appearance. “What?” He asked. His once crisp shirt was wrinkled, and his perfectly combed hair was all tousled. He was covered head to toe in dog fur.

“I think Tino may have gotten a little bit of fur on you.” He glanced down and saw all the dog's hair sticking to him. He laughed with you and did his best to try and pick the dog hair off. ‘Wait here.” You went inside and came back with a lint roller in hand. He took it and began to roll it up and down his clothes. You moved closer to him and brushed his hair out of his face, smoothing it back into place. He blushed at the action.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yea! Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise!” You laughed, it really wasn't he only really had three options on where to take you in Easttown. And you figured it wasn't going to be the Taco Bell or KFC.

The ride to the restaurant didn't take too long and in no time you two had pulled up to the place. He parked and rushed out of the car to your side. He opened your door for you and you swooned at the old fashioned action. You looped your arm through his and he led you to the door, he whispered something to the hostess and she smiled widely and quickly led you two to a table. It was almost sectioned off from the other ones, it had an aura of privacy to it. She rushed over and placed a rose in the vase at the center of the table and lit up the candles. Colin pulled the chair out for you before sitting down on his own.

He picked at the table cloth, not meeting your eyes. “‘So, did I pick a good place?’ He asked with a nervous smile.

“Mhmm, this is my favorite out of all of Easttown’s numerous restaurants.” You smiled at him coyly, he let out a little laugh.

The rest of the night seemed to speed by, you and Colin just clicked, there wasn’t a moment that wasn't filled with conversation. Either about his work or about your own, him telling stories about his current cases or you telling him about the rude customers you had gotten that day. Then it shifted towards talking about your favorite tv shows or movies. He admitted that his job didn't leave him much time to watch tv and you vowed that one of your date nights had to be a tv or movie marathon. He blushed at the insulation that there was going to be a second date.

You two had just finished off your meals when the hostess came by holding a piece of Tiramisu, you let yourself think about the irony of it. You guys had met at your coffee shop and here you were on your first date beings served a coffee flavored dessert. She set it down in front of you two. The plate was decorated with chocolate powder in the shape of a heart. You glanced down at the table and noticed Colin’s hand resting on the table, inching its way closer to yours. You closed the distance and placed your hand over his, squeezing it lightly. He smiled up at you and you returned it. He let you take the first bite of the desert, and he even let you have the last bite. He was a true gentleman through and through.

The drive home was filled with constant loving stares back and forth, your hands resting intertwined on your thigh. When you guys got back to your place you didn't want to leave the car, it had been a while since you had a date like that. One filled with so much comfort and romance, one you never wanted to end. More often that you went on dates with sleazy men that picked you up two hours late and flirted with your hostess. Which resulted in you sneaking out the bathroom window and drinking your sorrows away at the bar. But you had a feeling you wouldn't be ditching any of your upcoming dates.

Colin, being the gentleman he was, got out and went to open your door for you, much to his and your own dismay. You slid out of the seat and walked as slowly as possible to your front door. He held both your hands in his own. “This was fun.” He looked down at his shoes, not meeting your eyes, fearing you wouldn’t agree with him.

“It really was, we should do it again.” His head whipped up at your response, a smile taking hold of his features.

“How does next Friday sound?”

“LIke it’s too far away.” He blushed at your words. “But I think I can wait till then if you continue to come by every morning.”

“Well I couldn't very well start each day without the best cup of coffee in the world now could I?”

“Oh shut up.” You giggled, his heart fluttered at being able to make you laugh. What he wouldn't give to spend the rest of his life trying to make you laugh. A little warning light went off in him at that thought, was he seriously already thinking of spending his life with you. You guys had only met this week and it was only your first date. What if you thought he was moving too fast? What if you didn't want to even go out again? Wait, you had just said you wanted to go out again. He was spiraling, lost in his own thoughts. You saw his brow furrow and reached your hand out to smooth out his worry lines.

“What’s bugging’ ya detective?” His eyes widened at hearing your sweet voice address him by detective.

“Nothing, just lost in my thoughts.” His ears turned red at the realization he had just zoned out in front of you. You just giggled, moving your hand down to cup his face. He leaned into your soft touch and slowly moved his hands up to rest on your waist. He pulled you closer and you began to slowly move forward. Your lips connected, it was very soft and hesitant. You moved your other hand up to cup the back of his neck, running your fingers near the edges of his hair. The wind blew softly around you two, making your hair and his coat flutter. You pulled away and rested your foreheads together. You looked up at him through your lashes, reluctantly beginning to pull away. “Goodnight detective.”

He pulled away as well, letting his hand linger in your own, holding on to your fingertips until he couldn't anymore. “Goodnight (y/n), I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait.” You closed the door and he stayed outside your door until he heard the locks click shut. Once he knew you were safe he made his way back to the car, pumping his arms in the air, in joy.

Unknown to him you were watching his little display of happiness from your window. You did your best to suppress a fit of giggles as you sat down at the little window seat, unfastening your heels and tossing them to the floor. You tucked your feet underneath yourself and watched him get back into his car, a smile never leaving his face, and never leaving yours. You gently touch your fingertips to your lips, the lingering taste of his lips on your own. You sighed at the memory, he was going to be the death of you.

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crybabykiko · 4 years ago

Note

I just came across you nsfw with Osamu and I really enjoyed it I was wondering if You could do one for Kita?

Hi love! This is for u 💕 and all the kita fuckers worldwide- myself included bc I’m in love with him now 🥺

NSFW Alphabet - Kita Shinsuke

Nsfw below da cut g

gn!reader focus in this hoe

A/n: ty @honey-makki for being my partner in degeneracy and my wife ilysm bc she can read when I can’t

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

Will feed you a full meal. His way of making sure you’re cared for is keeping you well fed. He will cuddle you and spoon feed you himself if he has to, as long as you eat every single bite. He has a routine for everything, aftercare is no exception. He runs you a bath, then, while you soak, he cooks. Will make sure to throw a hoodie in the dryer before heading to the kitchen so it'll be warm for you post shower. Then he feeds you and holds you, playing with your hair or your hands until you fall asleep.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

You already know what the fuck is going onnnn! Kita is honestly so well sculpted that it really doesn’t matter but let’s talk about his back/shoulders. He’s so mf broad and it's very sexc of him. He’s also very fond of when you cling onto and scratch it up…. delicious

He loves your hands. He loves to hold them, especially when he’s looking straight into your eyes as he drills the hell out of you- he’ll lift one up and kiss it bc ✨romance✨

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

Oh he’s going to fill you so full of cum that it pours out of your ears. He has a big breeding kink, and huge loads to match. But he’s also very healthy and takes good care of himself so his cum isn’t bad on your tongue on the off chance he hasn’t already cum inside you 600 times prior to finally doing so in your mouth. And he’s going to kiss you after- very sexc of him.

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

Lost his virginity in a barn. Got a tick on his ass of all places. The barn isn’t the secret tho... the tick is.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

When you got together- he was definitely a virgin. Had only gone as far as MAYBE second base. But you used that to your advantage, because you’ve essentially built him up and trained him to be PERFECT for you. You also helped him find out what he likes and what makes him feel good too. Sure there was a lil’ corruption involved, but in the end you’re both very happy with your sex life.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Full on mf wrestling mating press. He’s going to have his cock so deep inside of you that if he even pushed a bit more his body is gonna go in too. Then he’ll just live there. He’s fine with that.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

Unintentionally so. Every once in a while, you’ll both giggle or laugh because you have to reposition when you start to cramp up or you accidentally hit him in the face when tying to pull him closer or something. But he’s a firm believer in the whole “if you can’t laugh with the person you’re having sex with you shouldn’t have sex with them” addage, so he’s very grateful for those light moments.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

It could definitely be neater. He isn’t abysmal, but he is hairy and could stand to trim a tiiiny bit more often. He’s just very low maintenance down there. As long as it’s clean he's good, which is both true and a decent place to start but pls tell him to get a little off the top of you know what I mean.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈y

He’s! So! Loving! He’s always going to go the extra mile to make you feel special. He likes to keep things on the softer side I’d say 8/10 times. He prefers to make love instead of just fucking it out- but if you get into an argument or he’s frustrated, he will happily go hard… but still with candles and a massage. Also I said it already but he’s gonna hold your hands while he demolishes you- interlaced fingers and all that cute shit even tho you’re getting railed.

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

His grandma is one of those old ladies that’s like “don’t do that you’ll go blind,” so poor baby was a lil pent up before he got older. Now, he still doesn't do it often, but he does it once a month or so as part of his routine. He uses coconut oil because he likes the smell and that it melts easily.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

Breeding, listen it’s just embedded in country boys to fuck and fill. He is no exception.

Spanking, moreso as a way to direct you. Moving too much? slap to stay still. Changing positions? Slap to get you moving. Just wants to see you jiggle? Yeah that too. Motivational slaps also come into play when he wants you to know you’re doing a good job.

Auralism, He LOVES to hear you. The sound of your breath, your moans, the way you chant his name when you’re close… he eats that shit up. It feeds his ego and boosts his pride. He also makes a lot of noise himself, mostly really deep moans but there’s a sprinkling of praise throughout too.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He needs privacy. So he’s definitely one to want to keep it at home or at least somewhere secluded and away, where he knows only you and him are there and will know about it.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He doesn’t care how he does it, but his number one priority, is making sure that you cum. Kita is a giver. And he will make sure to give you whatever you want from him.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝖔!

He’s not into SUPER rough stuff. He’s not vanilla, but he is the kind of guy that sees sex as “lovemaking” so he’s not gonna punch you in the face or throw you around like a ragdoll. It’s just not his style. Of course if it's what you want, he will… but never expect him to ever bring it up or do so on his own.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Ok so- he's… teachable. I’m not gonna lie, he would start off as absolute trash. But the good thing about him is how adaptable he is, and how willing he is to learn. You’d have to have him work at it a lot but once he gets good he’s great. He’ll love the feeling of accomplishment he gets from you getting off with only his mouth- it does wonders for his pride.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

It’s very even- until he starts to get close. When he’s close he’s going to speed up so much that you have to brace yourself against anything that’ll hold you. He is definitely a headboard grabber too.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

He likes to take his time with you. For that reason, he isn’t a huge fan. You would really have to convince him that it's worth it. He doesn’t see the point in instant gratification, and thinks you should be patient. Good things come to those who wait and all that Kita stop being so stoic and rail me at the farmers market challenge

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

Lmfao you think this mans is really gonna go for a public or semi-public scene? Think again. Now, he’s into sex outdoors sure, but only in your fenced in, enclosed backyard. He’s not letting anyone see you point blank periodt, you’re for his eyes only.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

Excellent self control. He can hold off on cumming for as long as you need him to. Usually he’ll tap out himself after you’ve gotten through at least 3 of your own highs- but his record is 6. Has a super long refractory period tho- so he does things this way to make sure you get everything you need in one go.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

He actually likes using toys on you. He has a bunch of different plugs and vibes that he uses to suit the situation. He prefers to use a hitachi wand on you while he’s fucking you, but all the others he uses for foreplay- or after to keep you full to the brim of his cum.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

You both tease each other absentmindedly. He doesn’t know why he gets so turned on by you scrubbing the floor on all fours (that’s why), but he does. He also doesn’t understand why you think its hot when he cuts firewood in winter or wipes his forehead with his shirt during the summer. He thinks he’s gross and sweaty- but you can only think of a million other ways to make him sweatier.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Listen we stan. He’s not quiet in bed by any means, but he’s not overly loud either. He’s the type who takes deep breaths and then on the exhale let’s out a moan from deep in his chest- you know the one. And he does that shit on purpose. Not really, but he does think of it as his way of letting you know that he feels as good as you feel. Will also 100% hit you with the “is that it baby? Is that the spot?” While you’re practically turning into jello underneath him bc he absolutely knows that’s the spot he just likes to make you say it.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

Wants to recreate the sex scene from tthe notebook with you. He can’t explain why, he just has an unexplainable urge to suck your face off in the rain and then proceed to raw you after peeling all the damp clothes from your body. Please oblige him.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

He’s got the thickness. Not coke Can thickness but like… you remember the Alaskan bull worm from ep of SpongeBob? Well he’s the whole worm, not just the tongue. I’m going to hell for that reference but ya he has a nice dick. The perfect thickness and and I’ll say a pretty good 5.5-6 inches worth. It’s also very veiny on the underside which- yes I love that.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Normal sex drive, since you tend to do it at least 2 times a week. He only seems to get a little needier when you CAN’T have sex regularly- ie, one of you is sick or you’re away from each other. When that happens, he’s a little edgier than usual, can snap sometimes but not often.

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

He’s the type to get a second wind after. He’ll only go to sleep after he makes sure all your aftercare needs are met, and even then, he’s only going to power-nap it for maybe 10mins. He’ll stay still and cuddle you while you sleep, but he’ll most likely watch tv or scroll through his phone while you enjoy his warmth. Every once in awhile he’ll give you a kiss while you stir.

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#daisy’s red light district 🚨#haikyuu smut #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #kita haikyuu #kita x reader #hq x reader #hq smut #hq headcanons #haikyuu hc #haikyuu hcs #hq headcanon #hq writing #hq scenario #haikyuu x y/n #hq x gn!reader

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ronnie-azumane · 4 years ago

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Haikyuu guys as stuff my dad did

This idea has been in my brain for a while, so I'm writing it out. Hope y'all enjoy :)

CW: idn, its pretty wholesome

Daichi answers your frantic phone call home expressing that you forgot your backpack and laptop for college when you went home over the weekend. Expressing that all of your notes are in the backpack, he decides to wake-up extra early Monday morning and make the 2 1/2 hour drive to your university, then drive all the way back to your hometown to go to work.

Sugawara came up with the best hiding spot for you while playing hide and seek at your 7th birthday party. He squeezed you in-between the back of the couch and the back couch cushions. Then, he sat in front of it to conceal the awkward lump it made in the couch. It took the others 30 minutes before giving up and telling you to come out.

Asahi asks you to style his hair for a zoom meeting he has later that day. After some deliberation, you both decide to do a mohawk style. He braces himself as you run off to get the brush, hairspray, hair gel, and hairdryer.

Nishinoya still wears the Annoying Orange shirt you got him when you were in 3rd grade. It's faded and has a giant picture of Annoying Orange on it, which faded from popularity in 2010, but he still wears it. In public.

Tanaka makes the dumbest jokes while in the audience of your colorguard/dance competitions. For example, he asked your mom if he should shout "Go get 'em George" to the group of girls performing to confuse everyone. Another favorite joke o his is to chant "the worm, the worm,, we worship the worm" while the previous team is carrying out their floor.

Ennoshida talks with you as you make one of the biggest changes in your life. Midway through your second semester at university, you determine that business is not for you, however, you do not have a backup plan. Talking with him, you end up changing your major to Geography, and now you love every second of it.

Kageyama drinks the milk out of you cereal. You hate the taste of milk by itself, but you don't want to eat dry cereal. To not waste milk, he drinks it after you finish eating your cereal.

Hinata fails miserably when your mom tells him to reapply the medical glue on your forehead. The day before, your sister threw a wooden block at you, causing a major tear in your head. Your mom took you to the emergency room, but they were busy and it was a school night, so they told her to just take some liquid band aid (which we called glue) and close the wound. Your mom told him to replace the glue, and he took ELMERS GLUE and placed it on the open wound. It hurt like a bitch.

Tsukishima takes you to go see the museum of natural history once a month. He knows you're the odd girl out of your class that would rather play with dinosaurs than dolls, so he takes you to see the dinosaur fossils. He also gets a discount because his place of work donated a significant amount of money and resources to one of the exhibits.

Yamaguchi helped set up your setup once you moved to zoom university. He attached your laptop to a monitor his job had extra, so now you feel like a badass whenever you use the two screens.

Oikawa out of nowhere invites all his high school friends over to stay the week at your house. A trip that probably should have been planned in weeks, even months, is planned in just a weekend. Everyone ends up sleeping on air mattresses and blankets on the floor due to your mom just finishing up replacing the floors in the house (she was not too happy with the sudden trip, but was welcoming anyway)

Iwaizumi makes you watch Godzilla with him whenever it's on TV. Some of his fondest memories include receiving Godzilla themed ornaments from his mom ever Christmas. He also unironically watches those cheesy fan-made Godzilla fights on YouTube for hours on end. Man just likes Godzilla.

Hanamaki and you wear funny hats to a volunteer cookout. The organizers told every one to wear a hat so that their hair didn't get in the food, but you two take it a step further. You wear a banana hat while he wears a hotdog hat.

Matsukawa taught you how to make all kinds of breakfast food at a young age. Whether it was a simple as a fried egg or as complex as French toast, he worked with you until the recipe came out perfect.

Kyotani scares the other parents off when it comes to the silent auction selling the class are projects. Now the shelf you and your kindergarten classmates fingerprinted flowers and bugs on sits proudly in your closet holding crafting supplies.

Ushijima scolds you for leaving the lights on. Most parents do that already, but he takes it to a new extreme. Your mom explains that he would never turn the lights on in his apartment when he was in college and would simply get his homework done before dark. Sometimes, if he had something to do, he would light a candle to finish something up.

Tendou recalls a story in which he stole a bus battery with his buddies to power an air conditioned tent at boy scout camp. He also recalls the year he and his friends tried to build a pool in the wilderness at the same count, only to get caught and reprimanded for it before filling it with water which totally had nothing to do with a camp counselor finding it and having a Vietnam flashback

Goshiki watches anime with you. He always acts like he is uninterested in whatever show is on, but he soon gets super into it and it will be the only thing he talks about for a week.

Kuroo sits at the table with you until 2am working on that math assignment you have been struggling with. You've definitely run out of tears to cry, and had to redo the assignment twice, but he is guiding you through the answers

Yaku isn't a fan of all the pets you and your mom have collected over the years. I mean, in his defense, at one point we had 8 cats an 3 dogs. However, he is also super cuddly with them, always giving them nose boops and belly rubs.

Kenma plays Xbox, Wii, and the ds with you. He doesn't find the bulk of the games you play with him entertaining, but he is willing to run through LEGO Star Wars with you. His personal favorite to play is Mario Kart and he doesn't let you win >:(

Lev is trying to convince the family to let him take the position in Alaska with higher pay. When mom raised the concern that the long winters wouldn't do well for your mental health, his counter argument was, "Yeah, and that sucks, but hear me out. We could have a pet Polar Bear." We didn't move to Alaska

Bokuto was definitely the most enthusiastic dad at the girl scout father daughter dance. He twirled you around in your pretty little JC Penney dress and made sure you two were the center of the dance floor. At one point, he lifted you above his head with each foot in a hand like a cheerleader. Truly terrifying.

Akaashi drives out to the 24-hour pharmacy to pick up some cold medicine when you couldn't sleep due to a stuffy nose. He also checks up on you every hour when you are coughing with some mysterious disease (due to the lack of tests and priority of the high-risk, I will never know if I had Covid when I got sick in late March)

Aone gives you the biggest hug after you get released from the graduation ceremony. He isn't the best with words, so this hug speaks so much to you.

Terushima has been taking you to Mardi Gras in New Orleans since you were a baby. He doesn't care that it's mostly an adult party, he believes that everyone in the family should enjoy a good ol' Mardi Gras

Atsumu carries you on his shoulders all the time when you're small. He just thinks it's the cutest thing.

Osamu makes sure to host a crawfish boil every year. Whether its the neighbors, family, both, or just the household, you can expect some good, spicy crawfish with corn and potatoes whenever he cooks.

Kita teaches you how to drive a stick shift. He's frustrated that you cant move three feet before stalling, but then realizes that the issue was that you were in third gear, not first. He is now impressed that you were even able to start moving at third gear.

Sakusa takes you along with him to work. His job is full of tough men, so when they see him with you in a little blue dress-up tutu and a plastic tiara on your head, their hearts just melt.

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lardguz · 4 years ago

Text

All You Can Eat Bluff-et

WHEW. This took me a lot longer to write than I anticipated because I got kind of stuck near the end (just like a certain fatass lawyer in this one, hehe) but YEAH. Wow! Hope you guys like gay lawyer feeder/feedee relationships!

Phoenix Wright sat on the couch in his office, formerly known as the Weight & Co. Law Offices, blankly staring at the TV screen in front of him. It had been two weeks since he was found presenting forged evidence to the court and subsequently stripped of his attorney’s badge and defense attorney title. Since then he’d not really had much to do, not being used to being unemployed for the first time in years. He had cleaned the office from top to bottom multiple times in the first few days following his sudden dismissal, trying to keep his mind off the creeping existential dread. His friends had stopped by frequently to check on him when they heard the news, and he put on a reassuring smile to them all, but now? The apathy was beginning to set in. Phoenix sat there, wearing just a dress shirt, an undone tie, and some slacks, watching the news talking yet again about his disbarment, with his hand rummaging absentmindedly around in a bowl of potato chips. He kept bringing handfuls of the crunchy snacks up to his mouth, loudly chewing on them without realizing how much he was eating.

Phoenix had been eating like this for as long as he could remember, but without constant cases keeping him on the move, and all the time in the world to just sit on the couch and mindlessly watch TV, his snacking habits were starting to show on his body. His middle was starting to protrude just the tiniest bit, slightly straining the button nearest his tummy on his dress shirt. As his fingers scraped the bottom of the bowl with nothing left to eat in it, Phoenix got up off the couch and turned off the TV. At that precise moment, he heard the familiar Steel Samurai ringtone that his former assistant, Maya, had begged him to put on his cell phone echoing from across the office. Trotting over to his messy desk, he picked up the phone. “Wright and Co. Law Offi—er, wait. No. Hey, this is Phoenix Wright speaking?”

“Wright, I’m outside your office door,” spoke a familiar voice with a slight British accent to it, “Open up. How long have you been hiding away in there, anyways?”

Phoenix audibly sighed. “Just a couple of days, Miles. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be right over.” He hung up and made his way over to the office door, hastily running his hand through his hair to make sure it wasn’t a mess.

There outside his door stood Miles Edgeworth, the famed prosecutor, long-time rival to Phoenix Wright, and his boyfriend. The silver-haired man had bags in each hand which seemed to be very heavy. Phoenix leaned in to kiss his partner and then welcomed him into his office. Edgeworth looked around at the shabby state of the room, empty snack bags littering the floor, and huffed in mild disgust. “Really, Wright, you live like this? Have you eaten nothing but garbage junk food at all the past week?”

Phoenix rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, you know, I was always more of an art guy in college than a cooking guy? Ehehehe…”

Miles groaned and dropped the heavy bags onto the couch, sitting down next to them. “Well, it is a good thing I brought you some real food then, Wright. Here, come sit next to me. I’ll show you what I’ve brought.” The well-dressed prosecutor patted the cushion beside him gently. Phoenix lowered himself down next to his boyfriend slowly and looked into his cool gray eyes curiously. Edgeworth opened one of the bags and pulled out a few plastic containers of some sort of soup. “This is homemade potato and leek soup, with lots of heavy cream. Very nourishing. It’s still warm, I made it just before I left to come over here. And this,” he said as he opened the other bag, revealing a single much larger container, “is a devil’s food cake. I also made this myself, but I baked it last night. The frosting is also homemade.”

Edgeworth popped the lid off of one of the containers of soup and, pulling a spoon out of the bag, dipped it into the bowl and lifted it to Phoenix’s mouth. Phoenix leaned back a little in confusion, stammering. “I-I am perfectly capable of feeding myself, Miles! You don’t have to—”

He was cut off abruptly as the spoon was inserted into his open mouth. The soup, with beautiful, bright flavors and creamy deliciousness, practically melted in his mouth. His cheeks flushed crimson as his eyes met his boyfriend’s, who lifted a finger to his own lips in a shushing gesture. “You have done so much for me, Wright. Now it’s my turn to take care of you. Understand?” Phoenix nodded quickly, still a little dazed, and Miles removed the spoon, refilling it from the bowl and bringing it to his lips again. This went on and on, as Miles emptied one container of soup and moved onto the other two, until there was no more left to feed to his lonely boyfriend. Phoenix belched softly, rubbing his distended belly, which strained against the buttons of his shirt even more now that he’d eaten essentially a whole pot of soup by himself. Miles rubbed his swollen tummy sympathetically before leaning over to whisper in his ear. “I hope you still have room in there, Wright, because you still have to eat dessert…”

Removing the rich chocolate cake from its container, Edgeworth cut off a large piece and held it to his boyfriend’s lips, encouraging Phoenix to take a big bite of the delicious confection. He opened his mouth wide and took a much larger bite than Miles had anticipated, taking about a quarter of the slice in one gulp. The two men continued in this manner, the prim and proper prosecutor delicately feeding slices of the moist chocolate cake to his now very stuffed boyfriend until no more cake remained. Phoenix undid the buttons on his shirt to allow his strained gut some relief, the orb of flesh firm and hard to the touch. Edgeworth gave his boyfriend some gentle belly rubs to try and ease his aching tummy before leaving for the night, promising to be back again tomorrow with more proper food to keep the unemployed former lawyer well-fed.

A year had passed since the fateful trial that had left the legendary Phoenix Wright unemployed, and not many people had seen much of the former lawyer since. Only his closest friends, and the occasional food delivery person, had been in contact with Mr. Wright since his disbarment. The one-time master of courtroom bluffs was sitting on the couch in his former office as he did every day now, a small stack of takeout boxes stacked on the coffee table in front of him. Anyone who knew Phoenix Wright in his lawyer days would hardly recognize the man on the couch as that legendary defense attorney now. Phoenix was wearing a baggy hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, having long since outgrown his old tailored suits from when he still practiced law. The loose, stretchy clothing he preferred to wear at present didn’t leave much to the imagination despite not being form-fitting yet. Phoenix’s chest, once a decently defined pair of pecs, had blossomed into a pudgy pair of moobs that even his XXL hoodie couldn’t hide, and his growing gut sat comfortably in his lap, the bottom of his softening tummy rolls peeking out from the bottom of his hoodie whenever he stretched or moved his arms. Speaking of which, Phoenix’s arms were also noticeably jiggly with fat, with rolls that bunched up at his shoulders whenever he reached upwards. He also had a nice, plush pair of love handles that oozed into a muffintop over the elastic waistband of his sweatpants, which his boyfriend Miles Edgeworth had taken quite a fancy to grabbing ahold of whenever they kissed. None of his weight gain on his upper half even held a candle to how his lower half looked, though. Living such a sedentary life for the past year since his disbarment had sent quite a bit of fat to his thighs and rear end. Phoenix’s ass cheeks were enormous, giving him a beautiful pear shape whether he sat his fat ass on the couch or stood up to waddle to the door to get food delivery. Each round cheek was roughly the side of a pillow, and just as soft. His thighs were also thickening at an astounding rate, each one roughly wide enough to get him stuck in some smaller chairs. When he’d weighed himself earlier that week, Phoenix saw that he’d surpassed 350 pounds. If he had still been a lawyer, that number would have stunned and horrified him, but now? He didn’t really mind at all.

The tubby former lawyer scratched at the stubble on his double chin, leaning forward to grab one of his takeout containers stacked in front of him, when the doorbell rang. Phoenix lowered his arm and instead hoisted himself off the couch, his chubby stomach wobbling underneath his sweatshirt as he did so. He walked over to the door to the office, his meaty thighs rubbing against each other uncomfortably as he did so. God, I’m probably going to have to start taking bigger steps when I walk soon, Phoenix thought to himself as he reached the door. He peered through the peep hole, expecting to see Maya or Edgeworth or someone more familiar, but instead he saw a face he never thought he’d see again. Or, rather, the lower half of a face, since the upper half was covered by a very familiar visor. Phoenix hastily opened the door and stepped outside to confront the visitor.

“Godot?!” he shouted, “How did you get here? Aren’t you supposed to be—”

“In prison?” the white-haired man laughed. “Yeah, well, as it turns out, murder in defense of another isn’t a death sentence. Your pretty little boyfriend got my sentence reduced for “good behavior” and “health reasons”. He also said I should stop by and say hey.” The former prosecutor glanced up and down at Phoenix’s body, chuckling dryly. “Good to see you’ve been taking real good care of yourself, Phoenix, despite everything that’s happened to you.”

Phoenix gulped, subconsciously scratching at the bottom of his overfed gut which flopped over the waistband of his sweatpants. “So, you heard about… that?” Godot nodded, and Phoenix sighed softly. “Figures. Yeah, I got played for a fool. Given forged evidence to present in court. I’m sorry for letting you down so soon after I proved to you that I was worthy to follow in Mia’s—”

“Trite!” Godot snarled. Phoenix yelped and reflexively covered his face, expecting to feel a scalding cup of coffee smack into his face upon hearing his old rival’s nickname for him. He peeked around his fingers to see the masked man rummaging around in a plastic bag that was slung over his arm. That was the first time Phoenix noticed that Godot was carrying multiple plastic bags. The older man clicked his tongue decisively and pulled out a small white box, marked with a logo like a coffee cup with three red lines going horizontally across it. He held it out to Phoenix.

“What’s in this?” Phoenix asked curiously as he reached a hand out to take the box. Godot stayed silent, so Phoenix opened the little package. Inside was a large pastry, a cream tart shaped like an attorney’s badge. Phoenix looked down at the confection, then glanced back up at Godot, a look of confusion plastered on his chubby face. The masked man’s eyes couldn’t be seen, but his mouth broke into a sly grin upon seeing the disgraced attorney’s expression. “I needed something to do after I got out of prison, so I decided why not do what I was always born to do and open a nice little coffee shop? We’ve been a massive success, and your prettyboy boyfriend told me you’d been really enjoying sweet stuff lately, so I decided I’d bring a little taste of Café Armando to your office.” He lifted his bag-laden arms to properly show off just how much he’d brought with him. “Got a little something of everything we make back there for you, Wright. Mind if I come in?”

Phoenix swallowed heavily, his mouth watering already at just the prospect of gorging himself on fresh-made pastries. He nodded shakily, unable to form words with his mouth in his dazed state. Godot shouldered past the overweight former lawyer, heading further into the office. He chuckled loudly at the stack of takeout boxes on the coffee table. “Looks like you already got plenty to eat here, Phoenix, but that’s fine, I’ll put my stuff on this side of the couch for you.” Godot dropped the bags of baked goods onto one half of the couch, leaving Phoenix with the other half all to himself.

The portly man sat back down on the couch cushion, his lardy ass spreading out under him to take up the entire couch cushion. He made to reach for one of the plastic bags and grab a box from within, but Godot slapped his hand away. He waggled a finger in Phoenix’s face. “Ah ah ah, that’s not how we’re doing this, Wright. Your man had very specific instructions for me. So you just sit there and look pretty while I handle the hard stuff, tubby.” Godot prodded a finger into Phoenix’s chubby gut to emphasize his point before reaching into one of the bags and removing the box that contained the cream tart from earlier. The older man then swung his legs over either of Phoenix’s thick thighs and straddled his rounded gut, leaning on it lightly while pressing the cream tart to the scruffy man’s lips. Phoenix eagerly devoured the tart in just a few bites, waiting impatiently for the next confection.

The two men continued their feeding session for hours, Godot getting more and more forceful the more Phoenix ate. His fat cheeks and double chins were covered in crumbs and cream, and a few bits of pastries had fallen onto the front of his hoodie, which was now riding up heavily on his distended gut. The soft layer of fat cushioning the outside of the enormous orb was stretched far by the amount of food Godot was stuffing into his former rival. Phoenix’s mouth was constantly full, every time he finished chewing on a pastry another was prompt shoved into his tiring mouth. Godot growled taunts in a low tone the entire time, calling him a fat pig and commenting on how far gone he was after just a year of unemployment. Finally, as he reached into the last bag to grab another pastry to shove into his adversary’s mouth, Godot’s long fingers closed around empty air. Turning his gaze back towards Phoenix’s exhausted, messy face, he grunted in annoyance. “Well, I guess that’s the end of my fun for now, Wright. But before I leave, I got one last thing I need from you…” Before Phoenix could muster a response, Godot leaned heavily against his bloated gut and wrapped his arms around the stuffed man’s chubby shoulders, planting his lips against Phoenix’s cream-covered mouth. Phoenix let out a muffled noise of surprise before melting into the kiss, unable to deny his long-standing attraction for the mysterious masked Godot back from his lawyer days. The two passionately made out for another few minutes, Godot’s sharp teeth digging into Phoenix’s lower lip occasionally. Finally, they parted, and Godot stood up, slapping Phoenix’s engorged stomach as he made to leave the room. Phoenix sat there in a daze for a few moments before the inevitable food coma washed over him, lulling him into a slumber while his stuffed gut digested its feast.

Morning light filtered through the blinds of the former Wright & Co. Law Offices’ windows, shining directly into Phoenix’s eyes and waking him up. The disgraced lawyer yawned and stretched as he leaned back on his couch, where he had fallen asleep sitting up the night before, just as he did every night these days. It was now a little over four years since the once-famous Phoenix Wright had been stripped of his attorney’s badge, and that time had not been kind to his once-slim and fit body. As he yawned, his fat cheeks caused his eyes to squish shut entirely, and his triple chin creased into a quadruple chin. His neck was buried under rolls of fat, showing no separation between chins and neck anymore. His hoodie, once slightly too big for him, was now several sizes too small, and yet he kept wearing it. The only thing it covered was his oversized moobs, which stretched the elastic fabric nearly to its limits just from their girth alone. The sleeves of said hoodie were starting to rip in places on the seams, his pillow-sized fat-coated biceps poking through the little tears in diamond-shaped bubbles that widened as he stretched his arms above his head. Phoenix’s stomach, while nowhere near his biggest asset, was still impressively large, completely visible due to his hoodie not even coming close to covering it now. His gut split into two distinct rolls that were separated by the fold where the upper roll collapsed over his belly button. The lower roll pooled in his lap like a liquid, settling between his overstuffed thighs while also overflowing over the outer edges of them, and flopping over the edges of his knees slightly. His love handles had also become a multi-layered deal, each one soft and squishy and overflowing out of his strained waistband like an overcooked souffle.

Still, due to his sedentary lifestyle since losing his job four years ago, Phoenix Wright was incredibly bottom-heavy. All those months of planting his fat ass on his couch and doing nothing but eating crappy takeout food, sleeping, and watching Steel Samurai reruns on his TV, with the only exercise he got being walking to the door to bring in all the bags of food he got delivered every couple of hours, truly did a number on the lower half of his body. Each of his enormous shapeless asscheeks took up one half of the couch, the cushions completely flattened underneath his incredible weight. The burgeoning bulk of his massive ass strained the fabric of his once-huge sweatpants, with one steadily growing tear going right down the middle of his butt, which would reveal his boxers to anyone behind him if his ass weren’t firmly sat down on his overburdened couch at almost all hours of the day. His thighs were almost as thick as tree trunks, making his pants look like overfilled piping bags, with little rips forming on the seams where his dimpled cellulite poked through. His thighs were so fat that no mater how far apart he spread them while sitting, they pooled under him in a way that they were always touching. The fat from his thighs was also starting to fold over onto his knees, making it gradually harder to bend them when he stood up to get his food deliveries. Phoenix was also starting to notice that his meaty calves were starting to get so fat that his ankles were fusing with the mass of fat that was the rest of his flabby leg rolls. All in all, the former legal legend was nigh unrecognizable to anyone who hadn’t seen him in the past four years and known about his decline into pure sedentary gluttony.

Phoenix felt a buzzing coming from the pocket of his hoodie that currently rested right between his massive pillow-sized moobs, straining his fat arms against his squishy chest. The sheer size of his chest made it hard for his already-overburdened arms to reach things in front of him, especially when it was something so close to his body. Eventually he managed to reach his pocked and pull out his phone and saw that the last of the deliveries had been made, so Phoenix swung his bulk off the couch and began waddling to the office’s door. His soft, flabby gut hung almost like an apron in front of his legs, the lower half of it dangling halfway down his couch-crushing thighs, slapping against them loudly with every heavy step he took. The obese man opened the door and gathered up the piles of takeout containers in his flabby arms, his wobbling gut just barely brushing the floor as he leaned down to pick up the precious packages. He knew he had a double date tonight with his husband and boyfriend, but Phoenix just couldn’t wait that long to have his greedy gut properly filled. He began steadily waddling his way back to his old worn out couch, his shapeless orbs that were his enormous ass cheeks jiggling hypnotically the entire time.

Phoenix slowly lowered his incredible bulk back down onto his sofa, oblivious to the strained groaning of the metal frame beneath his prodigious rear end. He deposited his delicious cargo onto the coffee table in front of his couch and leaned forward, his double-layered tummy splitting into even more rolls as he strained to reach one of the roughly thirty or so containers of food. He grabbed it in his pudgy fingers and sat back, sighing in relief as he opened the styrofoam box. Inside was a triple decker cheeseburger with extra cheese and bacon, with extra fries. Phoenix always gorged on burgers on Wednesdays, it was an old tradition of his and Maya’s to get burgers on Wednesdays nights after working a long case. Now that she was too busy training to be the next Master of Kurain Village, Phoenix opted to just stuff himself with extra large burgers on his own instead. Grasping the massive burger between his sausage-sized fingers, he lifted it to his mouth and took a huge bite, moaning in joy as the flavors of the juicy burger burst over his taste buds. A little bit of grease dribbled down his scruff chins, but Phoenix didn’t even notice. He continued devouring the triple cheeseburger with practiced ease, demolishing the entire thing and all the fries in record time before moving onto the next container, and the next, and the next…

The former lawyer ate and ate for hours, completely lost in the decadence of his burger feast, each one just as fattening and greasy as the last. Phoenix was completely ignorant to the pounds he was packing on in his fast food haze, too busy stuffing his flabby face with his greasy “breakfast”. His fatty arm rolls grew thicker and thicker, ripping the seams of his hoodie’s sleeves to shreds after just an hour of gorging himself. Tears in the stretchy fabric began to form between his massive breasts, each one straining the overburdened sweatshirt in opposite directions. His soft, flabby gut gurgled as it slowly seeped further outwards, filling his entire oversized lap and overflowing over his legs entirely. His enormous ass and titanic thigh rolls finally won the battle against his formerly-loose sweatpants, a series of loud ripping noises and the twang of splitting elastic signalling their end as waves of lard erupted out of them, his meaty love handles and wobbling cheeks resting comfortably on the arm rests of his overtaxed couch as his oak tree sized thigh rolls dangled over the edge of the sofa cushions.

Finally, after just a few hours, Phoenix finished devouring the last of his burger feast, belching into his closed fist after swallowing the last bite. The man lazily looked down at himself, realizing all he could see was his bare tits and the top roll of his gut. Then he felt his soft fatty flesh covering the entire couch, overflowing over the edges, and it hit him: Phoenix had officially grown fat enough to fill his two-person couch just by himself. As that realization was sinking in, he heard a loud noise, like metal bending, and his heart sank. Trying desperately to lower his sagging lard-covered arms to his sides to hoist himself off of the ticking time bomb that was his couch, Phoenix realized he was now so fat that his arms couldn’t bend right at the elbow anymore, his rolls of arm fat folding over the joint and making it essentially useless. Not only that, but he couldn’t even get his arms down to his sides anymore because of his beanbag-sized moobs and layers of side rolls getting in the way. Well, that just leaves me with one option, Phoenix thought to himself as he planted his chubby feet on the floor in front of him. He began slowly leaning forward, trying to inch his way upwards and off of his sofa, but after a few minutes a cold realization dawned on him: his enormously fat ass was stuck between the armrests of the couch. He’d heard of people getting stuck in a dining chair before, but an entire loveseat?! This was ridiculous! Phoenix didn’t have long to think about how incredibly obese he had gotten, as the couch let out one last groaning metallic shriek and gave out under his unbelievable weight. Phoenix let out a yelp as he plummeted backward to the floor with a resounding boom that sent the entire office quaking. Thankfully he had a lot of extra padding to cushion the fall, and he lay there groaning, his flabby shoulders and back rolls pushing his multiple chins and drooping jowls up around his face. Well, at least Miles and Godot will be here in a few hours, Phoenix thought to himself. I may as well sleep off those burgers while I wait for them. The gigantic man yawned loudly as he fell asleep, pinned beneath his own hundreds of pounds of lard, snoring loudly the entire time.

Phoenix woke with a start as he felt something laying on top of his squishy chest. He opened his eyes and was greeted with the familiar red glow of his boyfriend Godot’s visor inches from his fat-wreathed face. Standing over him and looking mildly amused was his husband, Edgeworth, holding a few bags of food in his arms. The chief prosecutor tssked softly as he shook his head at his obese partner. “Really, Wright, I’ve been warning you about that couch for months now, and yet you kept ignoring me. Now look where that got you, stuck laying on your back, pinned by your own greedy ways.”

Godot laughed softly as he leaned forward to kiss Phoenix’s fat lips. “He has a point, Phoenix, you really have let yourself go. You’ve become quite the hungry little hog, haven’t you?” The masked man grabbed heaping handfuls of Phoenix’s flabby jowls as he shoved his mouth against the helpless former lawyer, making out with him with such an intense ferocity that Phoenix didn’t really know what hit him. Their lips parted with a whimper from Phoenix, craving more, but it was cut off by Edgeworth sticking a sticky cream-filled donut in his husband’s greedy mouth. “There will be plenty of time for that later, dear, but for now, I’m sure you must be starving. Let us take care of that little issue first before we get you up off that floor and find out just how big a butterball you’ve become.” Miles passed the rest of the box of donuts to Godot, who was still laying on top of Phoenix’s enormous bulk. He positioned the box on Phoenix’s chins for easier stuffing access and began pressing the fried sweet delights into his mouth one after another, barely giving him any time to swallow one before another was fed to him. Miles sat on the floor beside Phoenix, leaning against his pillowy arm rolls as he began stuffing his husband’s face with large fancy cupcakes, frosting and crumbs flecking his droopy jowls and his many stubble-covered chins.

The tender dual-feeding session was over quickly, with two feeders and one voracious feedee making short work of the boxes of baked goods. Edgeworth leaned over his morbidly obese husband’s arm fat to kiss his round overstuffed cheek. “All finished? Then we should probably get you off the floor now and see how much you weigh, hm?” Godot whined from where he still lay on top of Phoenix’s mounds of man-tits. “Aww, but I’m having fun up here! He’s so soft and fun to pinch and lay on now “ The masked man grinned mischievously. “Plus, it’s so fun to see from above just how far the mighty Phoenix Wright has fallen.” Miles gave Phoenix’s flabby gut a hearty shove, sending the entire expanse of his husband’s fat-swaddled body wobbling so hard that it knocked Godot off of his chest. The two men each grabbed one of Phoenix’s lard-coated wrists and heaved, taking a solid five minutes to get the jiggling mound of pure fat that was once the best defense attorney around back on his feet. Edgeworth then led the pear-shaped butterball to the scale he’d bought last year, watching the numbers go up and up. They finally stopped, and Edgeworth read the display out loud. “Seven hundred and sixty-two pounds. Good god, Wright, you really have gotten enormous.” He pulled Phoenix into a hug, squishing into his pillowy soft body. “I’m so proud of you, dear.” Godot grabbed a fistful of his boyfriend’s chair-sized ass cheeks appraisingly, before grunting in approval. “Yeah, I’d say you’ve become a pretty prize hog, Phoenix. Good work. Looks great on you.”

The two much smaller men escorted their doughy partner as he lumbered his way back to the broken sofa. Phoenix was breathing heavily, worn out from just waddling over to the scale and back, but the couch was completely busted. He had nowhere to sit now. Edgeworth patted his squishy shoulders reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Phoenix. I can get you a special reinforced couch delivered tomorrow. But more importantly, I have a job opportunity that came my way for you.”

Phoenix looked at his husband quizzically. “Job opportunity? What kind?” Miles chuckled. “Well, it involves a lot of eating as a front, but… how good are you at playing poker?”

A young brown haired lawyer was pacing around the defendant lobby of the courthouse. Today was his first ever trial as a defense attorney, and his client was nowhere to be seen. The chubby man was very nervous, loudly muttering to himself in a voice that had clearly been driven hoarse from practicing all night the night before. “It’s fine, Apollo! Everything is just fine! Your client is probably just stuck in traffic, that’s all! He’ll be here in time for the trial! It’s fine! You’re fine! I’m fine!” He took a deep breath and let loose a yell that could probably be heard from across the entire courthouse. “I’M APOLLO JUSTICE, AND I’M FINE!!!” Breathing heavily after such an incredibly loud scream, Apollo wiped his forehead with the back of a pudgy arm and walked over to one of the benches in the lobby, collapsing onto it gratefully. It was then that the rotund young man noticed the array of tables on the other side of the defendant lobby, each one piled high with mountains of food. “What the…” he mumbled to himself, “Who is all that food for…? Is- Is that for me?” He hoisted himself off the bench and walked over to the tables, his fat tummy growling hungrily at the sight of all that delicious food. Apollo was by no means a skinny man, having been well acquainted with stress eating ever since he started law school. Reaching out for a cream-filled donut with one chubby hand, he stopped when he heard noises coming from out in the hall. Loud noises, like a dinosaur was stomping around out there. Curious to know the source, Apollo turned around at the exact same moment the door to the defendant lobby opened. His eyes were greeted with the sight of none other than the Chief Prosecutor himself, Miles Edgeworth. Apollo yelped in shock and bowed his head respectfully, but Edgeworth stopped him. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Justice. I’m not here on prosecutor business. It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, though. I’ve heard much about you from your mentor, Mr. Gavin.”

Apollo’s chubby cheeks were bright crimson, flustered to receive such high praise from such a legendary prosecutor. “U-uh, th-thank you, Mr. Edgeworth. I mean! Uh! Chief Prosecutor, sir!” Miles chuckled, a sound that Apollo was certain not many heard. “Please, Mr. Edgeworth will do. Now, I’ve heard you’ve taken over the case that Mr. Gavin was originally meant to take?” Apollo nodded. “Yes, Mr. Edgeworth. Once I heard who it was I would be defending, I insisted! He was always a hero of mine when I first decided I wanted to be a lawyer as a kid. Even after what happened seven years ago, I still believe he’s innocent!”

Edgeworth nodded, satisfied by the fledgling defense attorney’s passionate answer. “Excellent. Well, then, your client shall be arriving shortly.” Apollo looked up at him, clearly confused, so Edgeworth continued without pause. “I said I wasn’t here on prosecutor business, correct? The only reason I came here was to make sure your client could get here on his own.”

Apollo hummed in even further confusion. “What do you mean, Mr. Edgeworth? Is he… injured?” Miles shook his head gently. “You’ll see soon enough. Good day, Mr. Justice, and good luck with your trial.” With that, the Chief Prosecutor left the defendant lobby, his coat tails swooshing behind him. Apollo stood in the middle of the lobby, absolutely baffled, when he realized the loud stomping noises in the hallway had started again, and were getting louder-- and closer. He stood and watched as the door to the hallway was opened, not by a hand, but by an enormous flabby stomach as wide as the door was pressed into it slowly. The wobbling double-decker behemoth of a gut oozed past the door frame, soft enough that it could still fit through despite being wider than the doorway itself. Then came the rest of the doughy man’s front, his enormous drooping moobs and upper belly roll the only thing covered by his tent-sized sweatshirt. His neck was a thick ring of no less than eight flabby chins, all covered in a stubbly beard. His eyes squinted from behind jiggling oversized jowls that drooped down to his shoulders. The mammoth of a man continued shuffling his way through the doorway, squishing all his doughy rolls against the frame. His arms, which were just cylindrical dimpled pillows of fat that were slowly absorbing his round hands at the wrists, grasped at either side of the door frame to try and lever his massive bulk through the door easier. But suddenly, his flowing rolls of lard stopped moving through the doorway, and the flabby behemoth strained and pushed against the walls with his swaddled arms, trying desperately to get the rest of his bulk through the door. Apollo shook himself and trotted over to help the comically oversized man.

As he got closer to the wedged ball of lard, Apollo really got a good look at just how massively obese this guy was, even with only half his body visible. The young lawyer wasn’t skinny at all, but this guy even put his soft and round physique to shame. Apollo was pretty sure he could see the man’s feet peeking out from under the bottom of the exposed rolls of his incredible gut, which came down to just above his ankles. Looking down at his own stomach, which only just barely drooped over his belt, he couldn’t help but feel a little impressed, and maybe jealous, that someone could get just so ridiculously fat.

Apollo coughed nervously before addressing the panting, wobbling blob of a man. “Uh, sorry to bother you, sir, but uh, do you… need help getting through the door?”

The blubbery behemoth responded in a voice that was deepened by all the fat caking his neck and interrupted with wheezy breaths every few words. “Yeahh… tha’ woul’… haah… helph a lot… thin’ my assh ish… haah… shtuck…” Apollo had to take a few seconds to mentally translate what the enormous man was saying through his speech being slurred by his flabby jowls getting in the way of his mouth. “Oh, your, uh, b-backside is stuck? Here, let me grab your arms and try and pull you through, okay sir?” The doughy butterball nodded, his cheeks and chins jiggling as he did, and he reached his overburdened arms as far forward as he could. Apollo had to lean into the man’s cushiony stomach rolls to reach his arms, feeling himself sinking into the warm, soft adipose. He grabbed onto the man’s fat-ringed wrists and began pulling as hard as he could, trying to ignore the way being enveloped between the man’s blubbery tits and tummy made him feel. After a few minutes of pulling the immense man’s nearly useless arms, Apollo finally felt the wobbling flab all around him begin inching forward slowly. He kept tugging at the monstrously sized man’s round hands as he in turn shuffled his titanic thunder thighs through the door, every roll and fold of fat covering them touching at the middle, all the way down to his ankles. Once he got his double door-wide hips and thighs through the door, it was just a manner of getting his fat ass inside, which was easier said than done.

Apollo let go of the man’s flabby arms to take a few steps back and think of a new plan of attack. He scanned the blubbery blob’s body, observing the parts he could now see that were stuck on the other side of the door before. It was no wonder he’d gotten stuck in the door. It was a single doorway, and this man, who was so fat that he’d probably be immobilized by his own weight soon if he kept getting fatter, had a lower half that was wide enough to take up five chairs at a dinner table. One overstuffed thigh was almost as wide as the doorway itself on its own, let alone two of them. His squishy love handles oozed over the top of his sweatpants that probably had more X’s in their size than Apollo cared to even imagine, giving the already definitively pear-shaped blubber bag a overflowing muffin top behind his apron of stomach rolls. His arms rested at a ninety degree angle because of his beanbag-sized tits and plush love handles colliding with fat-coated arm rolls that were the size of his own fat head. Damn, how huge must this man’s butt be if it’s still stuck in the doorway after all the rest of that managed to get through?! Apollo thought to himself, when he noticed the whale-sized lardball eyeing the food tables that he’d almost taken a donut from earlier. “Who’sh tha’… haah… food f’r...? Haah… haah…” the behemoth wheezed. “The food? Oh, I’m not sure. It was here when I got here. No one said whose it was.” Apollo could only stand and watch in awe as he observed what happened next. The monumentally obese man began wobbling his bulky form forward and backward against the door frame, slamming his rolls against it repeatedly as cracks began to form around the wooden framework. He then began slowly inching his thunderous legs forward, having to shift his blubbery bulk back and forth in a painfully slow waddle, his lard-caked thighs touching at all points no matter how far apart he spread his legs to “walk”. As he moved his door-sized legs forward, the cracks around the door frame widened, creating loud snapping noises as he dragged his rolls of fat further and further into the defendant lobby.

Finally, with one resounding crunch, the door frame gave way, parts of the walls surrounding it coming with it, crushed to pieces by the enormous blob of a man and his incredible ass cheeks. The flabby titan’s doughy body surged forward as he freed his backside finally, giving Apollo a chance to finally see the probably half-ton of lard in all his glory, and boy, did it make sense how he’d gotten so stuck in that doorway. The man’s ass was easily wide enough to get stuck in a double door, let alone a single one! Each doughy cheek probably took three chairs to sit on on their own, and they sagged so far down that they were touching the floor! Apollo was stunned. How could someone get this fat and still be up walking around? The swollen mass of fatty rolls wobbled constantly as he stood still, wheezing from the effort of busting through the doorway using his hundreds of pounds of fat as a battering ram. After getting his breathing back to the normal level of heavy breathing for one his massive size, the colossal mountain of man-flesh turned his attention back to the tables piled high with food across the lobby, drooling at the sight of it all. He began shuffling his jiggling bulk towards the tables slowly as Apollo watched in fascinated awe. Each heavy step shook the entire room, his double-decker gut rippling with shockwaves from slapping against his meaty cankles with every step. His shapeless flabby ass cheeks wobbled hypnotically as they bumped against the floor with every movement. His beanbag chair moobs slapped against his flab-caked arms, which rested at an angle even when waddling across the room. His cascade of chins and sagging jowls shook with every heaving breath from the exertion of walking so much. As soon as the man’s gut rolls reached the tables before the rest of him, he flung his doughy body at the plates of food, his fat hands grabbing any food within reach and stuffing it into his greedy face, chewing loudly and getting his chins covered in food. Apollo cleared his throat and spoke to the whale of a man. “Um, excuse me, sir, but, wh-why are you here? This is the defendant’s lobby, not a buffet.”

The barely-mobile butterball spoke around a mouthful of food. “Mmmmph… sho… Milesh… mrrrrmph… dihden… shay…? Youh… ahre… hffff… my… lawyuh…mmmmph…”

Apollo’s jaw practically hit the floor. Gazing at the mound of blubber before him, wearing a tiny sweatshirt stretched across his moobs and sweatpants what couldn’t even contain half of his ass fat, the young defense attorney stammered out a response. “W-what?! So then… y-you’re the Phoenix Wright?! The famous defense attorney?” The man’s swollen fatty head wobbled in something resembling a nodding gesture, his neck too fat for an actual nod. “Wh-what happened to you? Last I heard, you’d been disbarred seven years ago! How did you end up like… like that?” The enormous Phoenix Wright paused his gorging himself to explain. “Haaah… haah… I wohrk… ash a… haah… tashte… teshtuh… urrrrp… fuhll… tihme…” The blob-shaped man smiled cryptically, before immediately returning to stuffing his face with the frantic speed of someone who thought they would starve to death. Apollo rubbed his temples, more stressed than ever. How was he going to defend someone who couldn’t even go ten minutes without eating? This case was going to be an ordeal, he could just tell.

#my writing #fat!ace attorney #fat!phoenix wright #ssbhm #male weight gain

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laos-soft-bunny · 3 years ago

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Kenshi: baby Faced.

So fluffy. So much fluffiness the clouds are jealous.

———

You are dancing in the kitchen to Ed Sheeran’s “thinking out loud” while making a cake for Kenshi’s birthday. Kenshi was upstairs taking a shower after a long day of fighting. He knew how much you loved the beard but even how much more you loved the soft face. Of course Kenshi being who he was, the sword was his weapon of choice to shave his face. He was blind but very intelligent. He hated surprise birthdays but for you, he made a small exception. He tried his best to avoid your thoughts of what icing to put on the cake. That was very complicated though. Because he constantly heard your voice. “Chocolate or butter pecan” Kenshi taunted to himself as he decided to butt into your head just a little bit. Using his telekinesis he whispered in your head “hm butter pecan sounds pretty tasty”. You yell from the kitchen “KENSHI! Stay outta my thoughts about your cake!” You can’t help but laugh. Kenshi smiles and sends you a cute little “no” through his thoughts. You shake your head and smile like an idiot, trying not to think anymore on his surprise party you had halfway done.

Kenshi decides to rest his head against the wall and let the water run down his body. The hot water releasing tension in his muscles. Meanwhile down in the kitchen you had balloons tied to the chair, the cake on the table, and boxes of pizza on the table. Sure it wasn’t much but Kenshi was not a hard man to please at all. You sneak into the bathroom and place the cute matching pj set out on the counter. It was a lazy night at home and you figured for his birthday you’d do something cute. You were thinking about dinosaurs while you were close to him, from the shower a loud laugh erupted. “Dinosaurs.. really” Kenshi said out loud, with a laugh that could melt ice. unaware you were right there, trying to keep quiet. You quietly left out of the bathroom and he shook his head. Your footsteps were not missed this time. “Hmm what are you doing baby~” his thoughts appeared in your head again. “Trying to be sneaky?” He asked you, but no response. Until seconds later he heard your thoughts. “Damn it he caught me”. Kenshi tisked softly and took his time washing his hair.

You finished setting the presents on the table and grabbed his favorite bottle of wine to set on the table. Kenshi kept his thoughts to himself while he finished his shower, cleaning off the sword with precision. It was just his thing that when he was clean, so was his blade. Kenshi placed the sword back in its sheath that was hanging on the wall. Letting out a content sigh he turned off the water and rubbed a hand over his face. As always he missed nothing. Kenshi could hear the flame from the candle in the bathroom and the smell of pumpkin pecan waffles filled the room. Your favorite candle. It threw him off for a second. “Ah she’s lit a candle” he whispered to himself. He lifted it with skill with his powers and let it land in his hand, inhaling the scent. That was secretly his favorite too. He set it back on the sink, and his hand grazed over the soft, fluffy pjs that were neatly folded. Kenshi smiled and started to dress.

You were sitting at the table reading a book waiting on your love. Kenshi came down the stairs, his sheathed sword in hand. He hangs the sword on the wall, before he approaches the table. You get up to greet him. Elvis’s can’t help falling in love was playing on the tv. Wrapping his arms around you, Kenshi begins to sway softly with you, singing softly “I can’t help falling in love with you”. You smile and give him a soft kiss. You guide him over to the table. The cake smell catches his nose and he lets out a soft, content sigh. “It smells delicious love” he comments, giving your hand a kiss. You are leaned around him, arms over his shoulders, as you reach to light the candles on his cake. “Those candles say 29 right” Kenshi asks, titling his head slightly. He didn’t feel 29. You made him feel like a child in love. “Of course baby.” You whisper giving him confirmation. “Make a wish, my handsome swordsman” you whisper giving him a cheek kiss. “I have everything I could ask for already” he whispers back, smiling and blowing out the candles.

Kenshi smiles and plucks the 2 candle straight out of the cake and starts eating the icing off of it. “Oh butter pecan.. no wonder it smells so good” Kenshi said as he licked it clean. Butter pecan was his favorite. You pulled the pizza box open and Kenshi almost swooned. It was from his favorite pizza place. “Oh I’m getting spoiled today aren’t I” Kenshi asks you, licking his bottom lip. “God you know I hate spoiling but you make me feel like a god” Kenshi says, giving his head a little tilt toward you beside him. You smiled and said “only for the best man in the world. You deserve to be spoiled”. He takes a bite of the pizza and the cheese just melts in his mouth. You had the wine already poured and he picked up a glass with his free hand and brought it to your lips. You drank gently and then laid your head on his shoulder. “You pulled out all the stops today with my favorites didn’t you babe” Kenshi gives a playful taunt to you. you think to yourself “I’m so thankful he’s enjoying this.” Kenshi interrupts your thoughts with his own. “It’s you. I enjoy anything you do. And cherish it.” You blush and giggle. You and Kenshi eat your fill of pizza and wine then he brings the knife off the counter with his mind. He’s always impressive when he moves things without even trying.

Kenshi cuts the cake with ease and gives you the first bite off his fork. He loved your baking and he wasted no time in eating a slice of that delicious heaven. Kenshi didn’t know there was gifts until you plopped a box in his lap. He let out a heart melting laugh and asked you “what is this. I feel the wrapping paper but it’s like nothing is there.. did you wrap air”. You playfully slapped his arm “I’m not that skilled. Air is pretty hard to wrap” you told him in a fit of giggles. Kenshi runs his hand over it and shreds the paper after tilting his head toward the gift. “A sword sheath?” He asks, feeling the material in his hand. “Genuine leather. Wow that was light”. Kenshi remarks and his fingers find his name carved into it. “I figured you needed a new one. Your other one is roughed up” you told him, with a smile, watching him adore the gift. “It’s perfect. I can’t wait to put my sword-“ he began saying As the sword flew across the room into his palm. “Into it” he finished the sentence with a laugh as the sword slid into the new holder. You just laughed with him. His skills were never unimpressive. He was so smooth. Speaking of smooth. Your hand went to his cheeks. “How did I not notice this?” You whispered and smiled to yourself like a giddy child.

Kenshi’s face lights up. He loved those cute giggles you made. He opened his other gifts and after opening the last one, he had you scooped up in his arms, swaying you to the music coming from the living room. He set you to your feet and wrapped his arms around you, dancing with you. You laid your head in the crook of his neck and slow danced with him. “This has been the best birthday a man could have asked to have” Kenshi whispers into your ear, and placing a kiss to your forehead. “Happy birthday Takahashi” you whispered back to him. “I love you forever” he whispered as he dipped you down and gave your neck a tender kiss. His eyes shined with love and adoration as he brought you back up, and rested his forehead against yours. He was glad this was his life with you.

#mortal kombat #kenshi #kenshi takahashi

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emeraldbabygirl · 4 years ago

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N.Flying reaction to you being on your moon

So I decided to write a thing. I’m not sure if this is a reaction but I know it’s not a headcannon..at least I don’t think it is. And I wanna start with this one and from here on out write the titles at the top and fix any previous works that are framed like this so it looks better? I’m still trying to figure out how I want my layouts to look like. Btw for some reason tumblr is whack and it’s not showing me any gifs of N.Flying except for like five and they’re all recent from the Moonshot mv and it’s not what I’m looking for. It’s been happening with me a lot not whenever I search for a gif it only spits up a few and they are recent like everything else got deleted? Idk it could be a bug on my end or just tumblr doing its stupid thing so this reaction unfortunately won’t have gifs :( I’m sorry

Seunghyub: Seunghyub was a man that would come running to you at the drop of a hat. He was very gentle and understanding with you while you were on your moon and he loved showering you with cuddles and kisses in hopes it would cheer you up cause he knew how moody you could get. You came home from work and not meaning to sound like a bitch you grumbled at his friendly greeting. Seunghyub was too smart to frown as he knew you couldn’t help it. He followed you down the hall entering you room and then the bathroom to draw you a nice bubble bath. He figured the light might be to harsh if you had a headache so he lit a couple candles around and found you in your room attempting to crawl into bed with your work clothes still on. “Darling come here I drew you a nice bubble bath.” He said pulling you out of bed. You grumbled and attempted to fight him like a cat afraid of water. “Come on now you don’t want to sleep in your clothes. You’ll feel better after a bath huh?” You huffed in defeat as Seunghyub led you into the bathroom. Helping you with your clothes he held your hand as you stepped in the warm water. You immediately sighed and began relaxing. Seunghyub let you close your eyes as he gently washed your hair and scrubbed your back. “Thank you for this Seunghyub really. And the candles are cute.” You smiled warmly at him. Seunghyub hands are covered in bubbles but he still cups the side of your face to kiss you. “Anytime Darling.”

Chahun: For the most part you were calm as far as mood on your period but your cravings for random foods and your appetite always increased. Chahun has picked you up from work and you were passing every fast food place and restaurant in the universe. Well that’s what it felt like. “Hunnnnn I want fried chicken..or a hamburger. Look there’s a sushi restaurant right there let’s get something to eat pleaseeee” you whined pressing your face against the window. “It’s late love, we’re going home. I’ll fix you something then okay?” Chahun said. You appreciated and loved Chahun cooking for you but you wanted greasy food right now and you felt bad about him always cooking despite you knowing full well how to. “Chahun..don’t you think you cook too often for me? I mean..wouldn’t you like a break? Besides I really want to go out.” The rest of the ride was silent. You sat at the table in sweats and watched Chahun shuffle around the kitchen. You loved watching him cook you just felt bad that he was always doing it and even when you weren’t hungry he still insisted. You felt even worse when you were on your period. Chahun finished up and plated food for both of you landing a kiss on the top of your head before placing your food in front of you. “I know you want fast food and I know you think I cook to much for you but I think home cooked meals are better on your tummy, especially during your lady time. Also you are my girlfriend and I enjoy cooking for you as a sign of love. Now eat up and then we can do whatever you want for the rest of the evening.” You smiled taking a bite of food. Chahun was too sweet.

Jaehyun: Jaehyun always did his absolute best to cheer you up whenever you were having your monthly and most of the time he could get a smile out of you. Tonight though you were laying on the couch in tears from the cramps you were having and Jaehyun couldn’t seem to cheer you up. He tried jokes, dancing goofy, breaking one of his sticks on purpose but nothing was working, you were in too much pain. Jaehyun kneeled in front of you moving your hair away from your face so he could wipe the tears that were falling. “Sweetie I’m sorry you’re so much pain..is there anything I can do?” Jaehyun was sad seeing you like this. “Rip out my uterus please” you said. This sent Jaehyun into a laughing fit. The sudden outburst from him and seeing him roll around on the floor from how silly you were being put a small smile on your face but that went away when you got a cramp the felt like you got kicked really hard in the stomach. Jaehyun settled down and noticed your silent suffering. “Hey, let’s lay down on the bed it’s probably more comfy. I can make you some tea and..” Jaehyun stopped talking. You probably didn’t feel like getting up. Jaehyun decided to just sit with you and comfort you as best he good. He heated up a hot pack and placed it on next to your side. Running his hand through your hair helped you relax a little and the hot pack slowly started to help with the cramps. Jaehyun covered you up with a blanket as you drifted off to sleep and quietly cleaned up the living room.

Hweseung: Hweseung was use to how moody you were. He comforted you whenever you cried wheather it was cramps or you got sad, he bought you your comfort foods when you were hungry and cranky and he even put up with your random laughing fits. He knew how your emotions could get on your time of the month but he was confused this month as you kept initiating sex. You weren’t normally like this and poor Hweseung didn’t know how to go about it. “Fuck me Hweseungggg” you blurted out while you to were on the couch watching tv. Hwesung was so surprised he nearly spit out his tea. “W-what?” Hweseung said after catching his breath. Did he hear you right? “Come on I’m hornyyyy” you whined starting to attack his neck with your lips. “Babe, do you really feel like having sex right now? It’s messy and you might hurt more. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable..also you don’t want to get pregnant now do you?” Hweseung was very aware of the ovulation cycle and knew that today would be the best time to have sex if you were looking to make mini yous. “Yesss let’s make lots of babies please Hweseung. Fuck me I’ll feel better.” You said against his neck. Hweseung sat as you cuddled and crawled all over him. Hweseung himself wasn’t fond of the idea of period sex at all. He definitely thought it was a bad idea while you were menstruating but he didn’t want to upset you. After contemplating for awhile and going over the possibilities of you actually getting pregnant he decided he would go through with it. But he took to long as he could hear your light snoring as you must’ve conked out from exhaustion. Hweseung sighed in relief seeing you out with your head on his lap. You looked like a cat, it made Hweseung smile. He repositioned your head in a more comfy direction and rubbed your lower back while he continued to watch tv. He chuckled to himself at the thought of you falling asleep during sex. You were just too tired and you needed your sleep.

Dongsung: Dongsung was really good to you around your time of the month. He would give you hot packs if you were having cramps, cook for you or order anything you wanted, draw you baths or set clothes out for you after a shower. He would tend to your every need and you were thankful but he was always running around too much. “Dongsung,” you said coming out of your room after changing from your work clothes. Dongsung practically rushed to your feet with a concerned look. He was always so adorable it made you sad that he felt he had to tend to your every need. “Is everything okay babe?” He asked worry in his voice. You sighed. “Can we just watch a movie tonight. You always work so hard to help me and I just want you to stop and relax. Can we just have an easy night tonight? Please?” Dongsung nodded quietly and grabbed your hand and you both walked to the living room. “Can I still make popcorn though?” You smiled out how perfectly silly he was. “Yes of course, but hurry up please I wanna cuddle.”

I did Hweseung’s last so sorry if it’s kind of crappy towards the end. It took me two hours to finish this cause I was distracted from vibing to N.Flying lmao. Anyway I wanted to make this cause I’m in my N.Flying feels again and I just thought this would be a nice lil thingy. (Also side note I feel like Hweseung would be really sweet and neat during sex in general and even more so if it was period sex even though period sex is gross and messy but I just wanted to add all the aspects and things around your moon time)

#n.flying #seunghyub #lee seunghyub #cha hun #chahun #jaehyun #kim jaehyun #dongsung #seo dongsung #hweseung #yoo hweseung #n.flying fanfics #n.flying reactions #kpop fanfics #kpop reactions #fanfics #reactions

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shadyteacup · 4 years ago

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Hello Teacup! Congratulations to your 300+ followers, they're well deserved!!!! 🥳☺️ We haven't interacted yet because I tend to be shy, but let me tell you that I enjoy reading your works a lot 👉🏼👈🏼.

I'd love to request the fluffy prompt number 8 for Aku pls. I just read it and thought the combination could be hilarious 🤭

Hi there! Interacting with u has been so much fun♡💕

This is such a cute req uwuwuwu

Warnings: none♡

Word count: 1058

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke + "I love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me dinner, you suck.”

Spring onions

It was quite a busy day for your dearest, today. He had called you today during lunch to tell you that he had been assigned quite an extravagant mission today, hence, he might come home later than usual. You had rushed home after your shift had ended to cook him a lovely dinner. You had been experimenting in the kitchen lately. You were tired of ordering takeout, but seeing how Akutagawa was almost always busy, he could not take over cooking duty. It was up to you to make your meals healthy, and you were going to ensure that both of you got the right amount of nutrition for a healthy body.

“Spring onions? We don’t have those!”

You rushed to the fridge, rummaging through the drawers in search of the leafy green. The vegetable drawer was filled all sorts of exotic stuff, save for spring onions.

Sighing, you close the fridge, bunching up your hair with your fingers.

“It’s Chinese food we’re talking about here, of course, we need spring onion. God, I’m so dumb!”

Akutagawa loved Manchurian. You had intended to cook some of that tasty dish and toss up some fried rice to go along with it. But you cannot do any of that without bloody onions.

You defeatedly picked up the paper menu of the Chinese restaurant that delivered to your address and placed your order. Sighing, you flopped yourself on the sofa, reaching for the tv remote and randomly tuning into a channel.

“What do we do now, chef?”, a sweet voice echoed from the screen. A man wearing one of those crazy chef hats grinned at the camera and held up an egg.

“Now, we add the eggs! Then we beat the batter properly. That way, our cake will turn out soft and spongy!”

You sat up straight.

“Of course, cake!”

You could bake for your beloved! Rushing to the kitchen, you put on an apron and rustled about, searching for some flour and cocoa. Opening Pinterest on your phone, you searched for that chocolate chip cake recipe that you had pinned a few weeks ago.

Grinning at the pin, you got to work.

...

Akutagawa came home to the wonderful fragrance of vanilla and chocolate. He rushed to the kitchen to see you invert the cake onto a container.

“Wow.”, he said, eyes trailing over the golden-brown dessert.

“Welcome home!”, you said, holding up your mitten clad hands to wave at him.

He hurriedly changed into home clothes and rushed to the kitchen. He was so tired. All he wanted now, was a warm meal. You handed him a plate of the takeout you had ordered, ushering him towards the table that was set up with candles and a bowl full of delicious looking slices of your tea cake.

“You did all this, for me?”, he said, astonished and touched.

“Yup! I wanted to lighten up your mood. Also, considering today’s mission, I figured you would be beat, and some lovely cake would do the trick.”

He reached forward to gently grasp your palm in his. Kissing your knuckles, he thanked you.

You tried your best to prevent your face from turning a deep red hue.

“S-shut up, no need to thank me. When did you get so soft?”

“When I met my darling.”, he said, eyes trained on his meal, trying to avoid your gaze.

You giggled at his flirty words. Nobody had expected THE Akutagawa Ryuunosuke to be a hopeless romantic. He flirted with you 24/7. It was very entertaining to watch him say such sweet words, only to blush and hide his face behind a cough to avoid you because of how flustered he gets.

Placing a slice of the warm cake on his plate, you urged him to take a bite.

He bit into it and froze. You grinned, your eyes shining brightly.

“Is it that good? Good enough to make you pause??”

He chewed slowly, smiling ever so slightly.

“Yay! Here, have some more!”

You were about to place another slice onto his plate when he stopped you.

“What’s wrong?”

"I love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me dinner, you suck.”

You blinked at him, trying to understand.

Sighing, he held your hand, giving you a pitiful look.

“You’ve been trying so hard to cook some healthy food for me, I love you for that. Its just that, cooking isn’t quite for you.”

“Hah?! Everything I’ve made so far was fabulous!”

“You burnt the chicken.”

“That was an accident!”

“The soup tasted like tar.”

“I added a wrong powder, how could I have known?!”

“The omelette was undercooked and overcooked at the same time. How did you even manage that?”

“That’s the pan’s fault! It isn’t non-stick, so the underside got burnt, but the top layers weren’t cooked and- ”

“The cake doesn’t have sugar.”

“Bullshit. I remember adding it!”

He sighed, offering you a slice.

“Here, see for yourself.”

You huffed, biting off a large chunk, only to spit it out.

“Blegh! That’s horrible!”

He rubbed circles on your back comfortingly.

“There, there.”

You glared down at the cake.

“But I remember adding sugar...”

He chuckled, patting your head.

“You remember adding a white powder. It probably wasn’t sugar.”

You gasped.

“I added salt!”

He nodded solemnly.

He hugged you, pecking your forehead.

“Hey, it’s the effort that counts!”

You snuggled into his chest, gazing at his jet-black hair. The icy white tips looked so elegant. They kind of reminded you of Elsa. Also, flour. Now that you think about it, he was just like the cake. Super salty, but soft hearted.

“I love you, frosty.”

He snickered.

“Frosty?”

“Yeah. Your hair looks so beautiful, especially the white ends. Besides, you’re always freezing cold. So, Frosty.”

You smile up at him innocently.

He sighed, kissing your nose.

“Do you remember that time you had tried eating cupcakes and that little boy ran into you? The frosting was all over your face! You looked so adorable.”

He grumbled, “Why must you remember that?”

“Because it makes you even more of a Frosty!”

“Sh-shut up.”

“But it’s true! I’m going to text Gin about this. We should all call you frosty!”

“Don’t you dare!”

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ajbwasntwriting · 4 years ago

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Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 1. Darling Princess

After the sneak peak tested well I decided to post the first chapter. I have many more already written and in the making but I’ll only post them if this gets a good reaction so please if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

Sucking on another cigarette the stale tobacco burned your throat in a way you would’ve been disgusted by years ago. You looked out your window down at the gate, walkers pulling at it to try and get in. It had been a couple of years since Negan took power and more than long enough for you to feel trapped. You held the smoke in your lungs, a small part of your brain wishing it would ignite inside you and let you combust, before letting it out slow and smooth. Luxuries like this were meant to last. Another luxury was the leather loveseat you were sitting on, and the black and blue mosaic coffee table your feet and ashtray were on, and the acoustic gibson on your lap.

You placed the smoke between your lips to free your hand so you could strum the strings. You were playing an old rock balled your old man had taught you what felt like a life-time ago. He didn’t teach you to play guitar but when you came back from scouts playing campfire songs he insisted on teaching you some real music. You thought back on how many of his guitar strings you broke before that Christmas he bought you your own Washburn. The strings seemed to break less when the instrument was more your size. Those memories felt so distant now. As if they belonged to another person or were part of a movie you watched. The lyrics of the tune you were playing were on the cusp of coming back to you when your door opened violently somewhere behind you.

“My dearest daughter” Negan spoke as he entered your private room. You likened his new way of talking to that of a TV presenter. Always having to keep people on their toes. You used to think it funny when you were a kid but it wasn’t part of his personality then. “What are you doing here? Dinner was half an hour ago.”

“I’m not hungry” you shot back not even turning to face him, which would have been easy since the chair sat with its side to the window, but the walkers chewing on the fence were far more interesting.

“Y/N, don’t lie to me. You said the same at breakfast.” He sauntered over. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Lucille wasn’t with him.

“Food I didn’t earn doesn’t sate my appetite” you shot back, leaning forward to put out your smoke in the ashtray. That must have stirred something within him because the next thing you know you were grabbed by your arm and dragged out of your room, the guitar hitting the ground with a sorry sound. You let him drag you without protest, knowing better.

You were pulled into a plush dining room, immaculately furnished with white cushioned chair and a long oak table, set with silver cutlery. There were five sets in total for you, your father, and three of his ‘wives’. You figured this was some sort of ‘happy family’ play he’d act out but you didn’t know who the viewer was. You? The wives? The men? Or maybe knowing you didn’t want to be here was entertainment enough.

You were shoved into a chair next to the head of the table across from Frankie. She looked comfortable while nursing her drink but you reckoned that wasn’t her first. In front of her sat a bottle of vodka, distilled on-site by worker number 12. Fat Joey was filling the bowls with soup when your father shoved your chair in. He plopped himself into the chair next to you at the head of the table.

“Now isn’t this nice. A big happy family dinner before your old man takes off tomorrow.” You didn’t dignify him with a reply, instead motioning to the bottle of vodka in front of you.

“May I have some, Frankie?” she looked at the bottle then smiled at you

“Go ahead, Princess”. You picked up the bottle and filled your glass half-way to spite her for that nickname.

“Thank you” you tried to be civil, as badly as you wanted to just walk off with the bottle, you sipped your glass instead.

You silently started the soup. The veggies were cut into large pieces. Perfect, chewing gave you a reason not to talk to the dickhead to your left. Your eyes were too buried in your soup to see the other two wives staring at you and your father who was boring holes into your head with his eyes.

“How was your day, Y/N?” Tanya perked up

“Same as yours” you replied with a mouth full of carrot and potato

Silence

“Where are you going tomorrow Negan?” Nicolle added.

“Ladies.” Your father spoke out, his tone showing his distinct lack of patience. “I’m not an idiot. I can tell that our darling daughter doesn’t want to share our company.”

“I made that obvious in my room.” Your spoon fell gracelessly into your bowl. “Why am I here?!”

He reached over and rubbed your cheek affectionately. “Because I love you. And!” he punctuated the final word by raising a finger in front of your face, a silent cue to wait. He stood up from his chair and took off out of the room and down the hall. You took this moment to talk to his wives.

“You don’t have to be nice to me,” you said before starting to shovel soup into your mouth.

“Like hell, we don't.” Frankie retorted, earning a short child from one of the others. You chuckled and swallowed the food in your mouth. You picked up your glass and gestured it at Frankie

“Take notes, Ladies. Frankie doesn’t try bullshit on me” Frankie gestured her glass back. You guessed she’d been in a similar situation, forced to get along with people because it was easier. She didn’t try to be your friend because you knew you wouldn’t appreciate it, which in a weird turn of events you appreciated.

Your father arrived back. It was now you noticed he was a lot cleaner than usual, even the signature leather jacket had left him. Now you were alarmed. In his hands was a pink box with a purple bow. He placed it in front of you and kissed the top of your head. “Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

“Is it my birthday?” you asked, not quite sure. Time had become a blur since the end of the world. You pushed your bowl away to bring the box in front of you.

“Give or take a few months. I know I’ve missed a couple what with...everything...so this will count for at least one of them.” He placed a hand on your shoulder giving it a little squeeze, your own hand finding its way on top “There’s a lot more gifts coming for my princess, don't you worry.” You couldn’t help the smile that came to you, giggling slightly. You looked up at him, seeing nothing but unconditional love being sent back your way

“Dad, it’s alright.” You smiled and turned back to your gift. The wives were now watching, captivated by this little bit of humanity at the end of it all. You gingerly opened the bow and lifted the lid off.

Inside lay a military knife, clearly hand-made on-site with a beautiful leather handle and your name carved into the side in cursive. You released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. You picked it up, finding it fits in your hand perfectly.

“It’s beautiful” you near-whispered, watching as the candle lights hit against the metal. In a moment it was lodged in the table a mere inch from Tanya’s hand. You kicked back your chair, making your father step back, and grabbed the vodka bottle in one motion. “Now if only I had a reason to fucking use it” you spat as you stormed out of the room.

Back in your room, you sat in the corner with your head against the cold-glass window, looking down at the dead, only illuminated by the moon. You had killed so many of them before arriving at Sanctuary. Hell, you’d say you saved your old man’s ass more than he saved you...but he was a people’s person. Ruthless. But a people’s person. ‘Let me do my thing and I’ll have these assholes sucking my dick in days’.

That was a different age. Back when your father was a teacher. Back when your mother was sick. Back when your father cheated on her with anything with a pulse and she took it out on you. Back when your mother’s treatment and your father’s lifestyle drained your college fund and you had to enlist. Back when she’d attack you, both emotionally and physically, and you took it cause you knew she was in pain. Back when you had come home from a 16-month mission because her condition had worsened. Back when the world went to shit. Back when you had to put her down because your sleazeball of a father wasn’t man enough to do it. You looked down at the dead and thought, if you reached your hands through the wires...you could be back with your mom.

Your door opened slowly, heavy footsteps coming your way. There was no need to look. Only one person would enter your room without knocking. “You scared Tanya back there, Princess.” your father spoke in a low voice.

“She can take it” you croaked, a clear sign you had been crying. He kneeled down beside you. In the reflection of the window, you could see him holding out the knife.

“Please take it.” You turned around, your back now pressed to the window.

“Why?”

“You need to be able to protect yourself”

“Give me a gun then”

“No.”

“Why? Scared I’d leave.” You took a swig of your drink.

“I see you’re upset-”

“Do you?! Do you really?” you cut him short, stumbling to your feet using the window to push yourself up. “Why am I upset? Because I eat food I don’t deserve? Because you make people die for me? Because you have me trapped in a fucking tower like Repunzel or some shit!?” That earned a chuckle from him, which only served to piss you off. “I should be down there earning my bit just like everyone else.”

“Do we have to go over this again?” He sighed dramatically. He cupped your face, the knife now dangerously close to you. “You're my daughter Y/N. My darling baby girl. My precious princess”

“I was twenty-six when this shit hit, dad” you mumbled through your squished cheeks. He gave them a little loving slap.

“You're valuable to me, which means some people might want to hurt you. You eat to stay alive, people die because they’re stupid, and you live in this room on this floor so you can be kept safe.” you blew him off with a wave of your hand and an angry sigh. You pushed passed him to your bed, twirling to sit on it and start taking off your combat boots. He walked over and lodged the knife in your headboard before kneeling down to look up at you. “I have to go out for a while. Find this Rick Grimes asshole and get some payback for the fifteen men he killed at our outpost.”

A chill went up your spine “The one near the hilltop settlement” you whispered.

“That’s right.” You looked him in the eye, not noticing how your lip quivered.

“You don’t have too.” you didn’t know if it was the booze or genuine worry for human life but you found yourself begging. “We have more than enough peo-” he shushed you soothingly, his hand coming up to your cheek, rubbing soothing circles.

“Oh but you know I have too, and while I’m gone I don’t want anyone to get ideas on what they can do to you so” he nodded towards the knife. You pulled it out of the wall, looking it over before nodding, mouthing ‘okay’ and depositing it in your nightstand table. He kissed your forehead before leaving, wishing you a good night. Once again alone you took two large gulps of your drink and laid down.

Edit: For creative reasons Y/N is now 26 at the beginning of the apocalypse instead of the original 24

#daughter x negan #daughter reader #daughter reader x negan #twd negan #the walking dead negan #the walking dead #twd #twd reader insert #twd imagine #twd y/n #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #the walking dead tv #twd tv #slowburn #AJ's Negan's Daughter AU

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okaybutlikeimagine · 4 years ago

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Forever’s Not So Long

(hi, major apologies but I actually wrote something canon compliant and it hurt lol. also preface: this is not me advocating for or demeaning religion or Catholicism. my family is Catholic but I don’t call myself religious. I just listened to DeVotchKa and cried over Billy)

TW: mentions of Catholicism, questioning religion, implied/referenced domestic abuse, implied/referenced child abuse, major character death

(it’s also on AO3 if you’d rather read it there)

---

Billy never understood it: going to church every Sunday when he had cartoons and corn flakes and PJs at home. He never understood having to wear his fanciest, itchiest shirt, especially because only the one would do so his mother had to wash it and iron it every week- even though she burned herself on the iron a handful of times through all her distractions. He never understood wanting to go somewhere where they told you what to do. It was all they ever did there, and there were few things he hated more than being told what to do. Stand and sit and stand and kneel and sit and stand and sing and speak speak speak. There were too many words he didn’t understand. There were too many people talking at once. There was too much and yet not enough going on to the point that he felt under stimulated and overwhelmed and desperate to crawl out of his skin and that incredibly itchy shirt.

There was no sense to be found in his grandmother either, and the way she clutched at her bible on her way to church. They used to drive her every Sunday, but then they moved further away and trips to church got less and less frequent until they stopped altogether. Still, she walked herself to church every week, some weeks every day. Billy only knew because his mother complained and worried herself sick over it. His grandmother insisted she wanted to. She had to.

“Just because you lost your devotion doesn’t mean I’ll lose mine.”

It took a couple years for Billy to understand the words.

And still it was nonsensical. So many questions of why sped through his head.

Billy would spend some weekends at his grandmother’s house and on those weekends, she’d drag Billy to church with her small wrinkled hand on his limp and sore arm. It didn’t matter how old he got- he was 9 and insisting his parents had let him stay home before and still she made him walk with her there. Stand and sit and stand and kneel and sing and speak and speak and speak.

“It’s good for you.” She insisted. Billy thought wistfully of TV and his grandmother’s pet cat that would lay next to him on the couch.

And on those Sundays, as Billy stood bathed in the bright light of the morning sun slipping through the colorful windows, somewhere in the middle of all those serious people, in his itchiest shirt that had wrinkles in it because his mother had been too sad to work the iron lately... his grandmother wept. Every time. Wept silently, tears spilling down her cheeks in rivulets of quiet emotion Billy couldn’t understand for the life of him. Eyes shining brightly, drowning in something indistinguishable, speaking the same words as everyone with a hushed voice like a promise to the world or herself or maybe someone Billy couldn’t see.

Billy never understood. More than that- he never forgave. He couldn’t help but turn angry eyes onto the building around them and the man at the front and the book gripped tightly in her hands. Too many factors in his grandmother’s anguish over something he couldn’t even understand.

But some moments etched themselves in Billy’s mind, and brought themselves to light on quieter days, in quieter moments of reflection and wondering. Moments when she would grasp his face… when she held out her shaking hands and stilled them on his cheeks, wet with tears because he was just a toddler and he watched a cat die in the street and he couldn’t understand. When she looked deep into his eyes and mumbled something that sounded like one of those promises and shed a tear for him and pulled him close. When she brought him over to light a candle to whisper a promise. When she gripped his shoulder and guided him to the kitchen to get a treat. When she prayed over her ice cream and over his too… maybe it made sense.

The time she introduced him to friends at church that smiled bright and friendly smiles and said “what a good kid”. The time she guided him through the church in the early morning when they got there before the service and she explained every picture and every story. The time she made him that fish pot pie that warmed him up from the inside out, because Easter was quickly coming and she explained why they couldn’t eat meat as they sat in front of the window and listened to the rain.

All the times she gripped her beaded cross over his bedside when he would fall ill, and closed her eyes tightly and rocked back and forth with it when one of the sicknesses got more serious. When he recovered just fine, and she laid a necklace with a woman on it over his neck and onto his chest- that same woman he saw everywhere in the church, the Mother. And then she looked at him with teary eyes and a watery smile as she allowed him to run off to play.

Maybe… maybe then, it made sense. In fractured moments of love and cherish, he could understand somewhere inside of him. Sometimes the devotion he saw in her eyes and felt in her actions made his heart feel right in ways words couldn’t describe. And those times, he could almost understand, as her passionate belief licked his wounds.

And he tried to hold onto that. Damn did he try to hold onto it- he’ll tell that to anyone. But it angered him still. Kind and beautiful moments never overshadowed the pain. It drove him wild with confusion and sadness and maybe something close to fear if he thought about it. At times he saw her as a woman possessed- obsessed and clinging to words and wishes and pleas of humanity. She clung to her book instead of taking her medicine. She yelled at his mother as she cried to her, begging her to listen. She walked and walked and walked even when she could barely keep herself up. She accepted rides only when she was begged to.

She gave her book to Billy’s mother one morning, after she had finally convinced them all to join her at church again. She handed it over with shaking hands and healthy eyes- healthier than Billy had seen them in a long time. Bright and clear. A smile that was a comfort. A look that was so serene.

She died suddenly the next day. His mother got a call from the neighbor who had gone over to check on her and ask if she wanted some baked goods. His mother wept the rest of the day and tried desperately to hide her tears behind smiles in front of Billy.

And Billy feared the book. Then he hated it. Then… he craved it.

A classmate mentioned the death of her own mother in class. She walked like she was in shock still. There was sadness in her movements. Billy learned the word “mourning”. He felt the despair encapsulate his heart as if he was mourning too- could imagine the pain and the sorrow and feared ever losing his mother. He remembered when his grandmother helped him understand death, so he wandered to his parent’s room and over to the book. He snuck in and stole it away and read what he could- the start of the world and the good deeds and the stories his grandmother once told him in the church.

He read about sacrifice.

Seven feet…

He read about hope.

You told her…. The wave was seven feet.

He read about humanity, and compassion, and understanding.

You ran to her… On the beach.

And he wanted that with him.

Yelling matches began. Infrequent until they weren’t. Crashing and shattering began. Quiet until it wasn’t- until it made its way nearer and nearer to his room. Until words became wails of despair and agony to “stay away from him”. When Billy began to clutch the book in shaking hands, began to rock back and forth, began to mumble words to himself he still wasn’t sure he understood.

Until he started taking sacrifice seriously. When his mind decided things were literal.

Stop it! Don’t hurt her!

Because she sacrificed. He heard so much. He figured sacrifice happens in lots of ways, in many forms. And he could sacrifice, too- get between it as well as his small body would allow. For the good in the world, and he saw a lot of good in the world, and she was the brightest.

So he could sacrifice.

But then she stopped. The book didn’t prepare him for when she would give up.

He wrestled with it for years.

How long? How long?! I miss you…

He thought sacrifice was a thing that always happened for the good. She told him he was all the good in the world- he was the sun and the moon and the stars and the Earth. He was every fantastical being. He was the light in her days.

But then she was gone- in a sudden and dizzying whirl of memories and pain, she became intangible. He watched, tired and dizzy from sleep, in the late late hours of the night as a cab raced her away from their home and into the darkness. It was an attempt to sneak away. Not even one last hug.

She left without her son, and Billy couldn’t fight the thoughts that in her flight, he became her last sacrifice.

I don’t understand… why not? Please Mom, don’t do this…

And he fought with himself more than anyone. In less than a month he was dodging jeers and anger and resentment and pain. He found himself mourning. He clung to the book while his ears rang from the yelling. He clutched it with red and shaking hands, clawing into the cover with desperation. He held it to his chest and begged for it to help him. He laid in bed and listened closely for the sound of the liquor bottles being slammed onto counters and he held the book. He mumbled the words he knew. He wondered if his grandmother could hear him up in the better place- if she was disappointed that he got the words wrong or just proud of him for trying.

Phone calls were frequent until they weren’t. Bruises weren’t frequent until they were. Billy clutched at his chain and the pendant and let hot tears hit his arms for the only Mother he had left.

And then the anger rose again. He quickly realized how he never forgave, and never should. How he couldn’t. Tears to books weren’t worth it- they only wrinkled the pages and blurred the words.

Sacrifice wasn’t worth it. Not when it involved leaving him in hell anyway.

Loud music drowned it out. He could make his ears ring all on his own.

Fights numbed it. He could bruise his body up on his terms, or bruise another body just the same.

Pushing away feelings fixed it. It can’t hurt to be someone’s sacrifice if you don’t care about them.

There were seagulls.

And he didn’t care.

He shoved the book in the back of his closet. He berated himself for ever thinking the words were real. He kicked himself for believing words and pleas were safeguards against anything physical. He sat and wondered to himself angrily, angry as all of Hell and every wretched being inside it, how he could remember his grandmother’s empty tears and think it was sane. Think it was reasonable. How he could experience her death and think it was understandable.

Fuck feelings and wanting and pleading. He didn’t care.

Not then.

But now...

She wore a hat… with a blue ribbon.

Now now now...

A long dress… with a blue and red flower.

Days have been gray for years. He also left his sun. He didn’t pack it with him.

She left him then she left him and then he left her too. Left it all behind.

Y-yellow sandals… covered in sand.

But he never found a way to leave behind the memories. Even when they fade in pulses, they don’t leave him. In the dark of night, he sees them. In the light of day, he sees them. In the sunshine and the shadows.

He sees them now.

She was pretty.

He sees her and her smile. Feels her and her warmth. His body has been so cold for so long… has been freezing for days but maybe also for years. He’s been cold for so long. But the chill of the ocean that he remembers like he turned 9 only yesterday… he remembers that differently. He remembers that’s different.

Her laugh is a song and her eyes hold prayers. The sand is so soft beneath his feet. The seagulls are calling him home.

He feels tears and he sees them too… on another face, bloodied and saddened and desperate as the flames of Hell themselves. Desperate, perhaps more like the clouds of a more promising place, beckoning him to something better.

Maybe desperate like the Earth. Like the trees and the leaves and the grass. Desperate like a human.

She was really pretty.

Yes… yes she was.

She was the sun… she was the sun and the moon and the stars and the Earth. She was every fantastical being. She was the light in his days.

And just because light fades, doesn’t mean it can’t come back. The book has told him. Told him light can return. Told him light is there if you only search for it. Told him sacrifice is for light.

Oh god that book… Where is it....

He’s been in the darkness for days. Weeks months years. There’s been so little light. But there was one… one that came into his mind when he was wallowing and forgetting himself. A girl, who held her hand out and looked at him like a human. Made him feel human for the first time in a long while. Let him shed a tear before the monster took over him. Let him show her all the fears of his life.

And that light is here now, talking him out of himself… now now now-

And you… you were happy.

Yes.

Sacrifice is for others. Sacrifice is for those who depend on you.

Sacrifice is for the light brushing his cheek. For the child in his heart still, begging in pleas he’s borrowed from his grandmother.

He stands on shaking legs, with the light of the sun in his heart and with hot tears filling his eyes, and he wishes with all of him that he had that book. His fingers twitch at the memory of feeling it in his hands. His heart lurches at all the memories- memories of women who held him close and begged to some invisible force that his life be easy.

He remembers, briefly and vaguely, the pleas of his grandmother. That he be happy and healthy and safe. That life be easier for him than any of them because he deserved it. She begged and pleaded all the time. She hoped and she wished.

His body aches standing here, staring down the monster that mirrors the evil that’s taken over his body and made it its own. And still, he’s within himself again. He sees it as clearly as he can with tears and with headaches and with every last memory and every last strike of pain.

There’s fear coursing through him… but that’s what comes with sacrifice. He knows that better than anyone, he thinks. He allows himself that last, tiny bit of selfishness.

Sacrifice isn’t easy. It’s pain and it’s fear- it’s the worry that maybe it won’t work. Maybe it won’t be worth it. Maybe the pain searing his hands at holding every evil thing back is only giving mere seconds of grace before the world ends anyway, putting all his actions in vain.

But this monster is him too. It’s the thing consuming him. With every strike it takes to his body, it’s attacking itself, and he knows this. Even mere seconds of grace can be worth it… maybe sacrifice isn’t always about success, just for the chance of hope. Isn’t that right? Just for a chance...

It’s violent… does sacrifice always have to be so violent?

His body falls… does sacrifice always have to end with someone fallen?

There are shrieks, distant and muffled…

Light fades and enters and fades, pressure appears on his arms and his name is being spoken. His mind briefly registers the face, the face of a girl he’s sacrificed himself for enough times he couldn’t count. A girl he’s stood in front of, metaphorically, to block any pain from reaching her. A girl he’s inflicted pain on, despite.

“I’m sorry.” is all he can force out, even through the desperation licking at him to say more. Say it all. Say everything.

In his last breath, the pain fades until all he can feel is the stickiness of the pendant on his sweaty and broken chest- the Mother pressed to him.

And he thinks of his grandmother. Thinks and wonders, with the wispy, fleeting thoughts going dark and black… thoughts of a place of hope and how his grandmother must be there- waiting with her clear eyes and kind smile and shaking hands to help him through it. To grab his arm and show him around. Just like she always did.

He wonders if he should thank her for the book.

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taurean-brat · 4 years ago

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Cafuné - Angel Reyes

Summary— Cafuné, an unique, untranslatable Afro-Brazilian Portuguese word meaning “to run your fingers through your lovers hair”. Angel x Spanish Speaking/Latina!Reader

Warning(s): Fluff, a little sad (?), mention of sexual situations, the grey sweats and shirtless Angel.

Final Word Count: 2.3K This was supposed to be something short. Like maybe 1K short. Smhh

A/N: Also this is not beta read. I wrote this cause it’s cloudy and cold out and I was listening to the song Cafuné by Micro TDH. It’s a very beautiful song and one of my favorites for when I’m in one of these moods with a candle lit and the room dark and Now I wish I was being held, but sadly I ain’t got a man.

_______________________________________________

The moment you opened your eyes, the grey and cloudy light flooding your room through your slightly open curtains, you knew what kind of day was in store for you and wanted nothing more than to just wish you hadn’t woken up. Or that you lived in an alternate reality… or something. You hated these gloomy, cloudy days for the feelings they elicited in you, and you knew it would only get worse as the day dragged on.

Days like this were rare for you, where you just wanted to be wrapped up tight in your mans arms and do nothing all day, the feelings of listlessness and overwhelming sadness being washed away just by knowing you were safe in those arms. But staring at the empty side of your bed where your husband slept, you knew it wasn’t happening.

Not because he wouldn’t drop everything to come home and be with you if you told him, but because you didn’t want to burden him with the neediness your emotions elicited in you.

With a sigh, you throw the covers off you, shivering at the cool December air, and just briefly you’re taken back to growing up in New York, where it was more than likely snowy and cold enough to freeze hell over.

The reminder just made it worse and with a groan, you pull yourself out of bed, making quick work of making the bed and then heading to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth, staring at your usually vibrant hazel green eyes look more of a glassy grayish blue.

Leaning over the sink, you stare closely at your reflection, your dark curls framing your face in the half up half down you’d thrown it in as they hell over your shoulder and down into the sink.

“Come on, Y/N, it’s just a few hours.” You say to yourself looking for the strong woman you usually see in your reflection and not the sad girl you’re not so used to seeing anymore. “Just throw on his favorite hoodie, some leggings, and wait a few hours. Then you can cuddle with Angel all that you want.”

And that’s exactly what you did. You made quit work of throwing on some pink fuzzy socks, black leggings and his favorite hoodie, which happened to be light pink color with a small red rose stitched over the heart and the words “almost dead” in black, gothic lettering across the top. It made you giddy every time he wore it, your giggling nonstop. It wasn’t because men wearing pink was wrong— if anything the fact he’s not afraid of wearing it just makes you love him all the more— but rather because your man, the badass, 6’3”, built as fuck biker can rock the color. And it did things to you.

Immediately, you felt somewhat better, just standing there inhaling the unmistakeable scent of him for a few minutes before you moved along to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee and eat the french toast you found covered on the counter, still warm and you wondered how you didn’t wake up at the smell. Just looking at it, you knew he’d made it exactly to your liking with extra cinnamon, and very obviously lots of powdered sugar.

Making quick work of eating your breakfast, and serving your coffee (two splashes of French vanilla creamer and three teas spoons of sugar), you washed your plate, putting it to dry and then grabbed your speaker off the table.

While you still wished you were in Angels arms, the simple gesture of him making you your favorite breakfast, warmed your heart, and you couldn’t resist sending him a text as soon as you sat down on the couch and turned the tv on:

To: Mi Santo Diablo:

Thank you for leaving me breakfast, Mi Rey. Te Amo hasta que no queden estrellas en el cielo.

You made quick work of taking a picture of your small smile, face half hidden in his hoodie and attaching it to the text before pressing send.

While waiting for a response you turned on your speaker, connected it to your phone and put on some upbeat Spanish music while you put on a show on mute in the background (a habit you’d picked up as a teenager so you wouldn’t feel so lonely while studying late at night). You’d started cleaning up as the music started. While it wasn’t something you wanted to do today, it was better to keep yourself busy than disappear into your mind.

You spent the next hour cleaning the kitchen, and moved on to vacuuming the rug in the living room when you heard your phone go off and you knew it was Angel, so you opened it quickly

From: Mi Santo Diablo:

You’re welcome, Mi Dulce. You deserved a day to sleep in. Yo también te amo. Hasta que el sol deje de arder.

You smiled and went to send a series of emojis when another text came in.

From: Mi Santo Diablo:

You look bella in my sweater, bebe. Can’t wait to have you in my arms.

You deleted the text you were gonna send and then proceeded to sending a few puppy eye emojis with some of the emoji with the floating hearts around the face, making use of the echo feature so it would fill up his screen. Before you went back to cleaning.

By the time you were done, cleaning, doing laundry, and putting said laundry away, the sun was starting to set and getting dark.

Walking back to the kitchen, you go about making vodka sauce and white rice to make penne ala vodka. Usually you’d wait for Angel, but you hadn’t eaten since breakfast since you skipped lunch. Plus, he called to say he’d be a bit late and to eat without him. And while you didn’t want to, and it made you frown, you did so because you’d likely pass out if you went any longer without eating.

You ate your food pretty quickly, as always when it was a pasta dish, setting some aside for Angel in the microwave and another one for him to take to the clubhouse tomorrow before putting the rest of it in the fridge and washing the dishes.

While still in the kitchen, you lit a few candles, setting one on the counter and taking the other with you to the coffee table in front of the couch as you watched the last rays of the sun disappear.

Sitting on the couch, you grabbed your phone off the table and lowered the music a bit so it wasn’t blaring so loudly the neighbors probably felt it in their bones. You found a not quite so upbeat song, but wasn’t so sad either. It just depended. It was one you’d found a few months back and you couldn’t help but falling in love with the lyrics.

Putting it on repeat you laid on the couch and just stared blankly at the fire, listening to the song, and singing along certain parts.

You were so caught up in just singing along quietly, staring at the fire of your candle, that you didn’t hear the door open and close behind you. Nor did you hear the footsteps walking towards the back of the couch nor feel the warm chocolate brown eyes staring you, full of love as you sighed and curled up a little more as the song restarted, putting your face deeper into the hoodie.

To Angel, it was cute finding you curled up on the couch in his clothes. Filled him with a lot more love than he thinks he’d ever be able to show you but he’d be damned if he didn’t try every now and then to do so. It also made him want to fuck you in them until you could only say his name and were creaming all over him

But seeing you now, curled up as small as you could make yourself and likely a hairsbreadth away from startle to cry, he knew that wasn’t what you needed, so before he did anything he walked back up to your room, changed out of his clothes and put on some grey sweats, forgoing the shirt.

It wasn’t long before he was standing in front of you, blocking your view of the candle and watching, slightly amused as you blinked and trailed your eyes up his legs, stopping briefly on his very obvious dick print before they trailed up his chest and then to his face before meeting his eyes.

“Move, I wanna lay down.” He says without much else, watching the small smile make its way to her face, likely about to say something, before he decided to make his way on to the couch. His girl was small, fun size, a huffing voice sounding very much like yours said in his head, and that made her easy to just pick up and carry around. So he did just that. Picked her up and then stretched himself out on the couch, before sitting her on top of him. The annoyed huff she let out was followed shortly by giggling

“Excuse me, I was laying there.” She says and he scoffs.

“Nah, mami, you were curled up like a little kitten.” He says and smirks, “Big difference.”

The pout on her face is cute and he can’t help but laugh, as he brings her down to place a kiss on her lips.

“Rude, mi amor. Very rude.” You says, quickly getting comfortable, hiding her face in his neck as his arms wrap around her in a tight embrace. And when he thinks you’re gonna be quiet, and just enjoy being in his arms, you lift your head up, eyes narrowed at him. “Also, who the fuck gave you permission to look like such a fucking thot, huh? Wearing my favorite grey sweats without my permission.”

It made him laugh, his arms tightening around you a little more but not enough to hurt you.

“Hush up, mi dulce, you Ain’t one to talk. Wearing them fucking leggings.” He’s quick to move his hands down to your tights clad ass and squeezing before he lands one hard smack on each cheek, causing you to yelp and then giggle as he brings his arms back around you rubbing up and down your back slightly before embracing you again.

“Alright, fair point.” You say, looking up at him, your eyes full of love, and if humanly possible you’d likely have hearts for pupils whenever you stared at him. You kiss at his neck and what you can reach of his jaw for a few before you just decide to lay there, the song once again restarting.

Angel lays there, just listening to you breath, feeling you inches arms, and he doesn’t know what he’d do without you, nor where he’d be. You were one of the few constants in his life. The one person he knew he could always count on to have his back and support him and he loved you for it. Always will. And hearing your even breathing on his neck, the small puffs of air warm against his neck only certified his resolve to make sure nothing ever happened to you, that he never did anything to hurt you. At least not intentionally. He knew he’d found forever with you. And he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Listening to the song playing, he sang along so quietly he doubted you could hear him, aware of your sleepy state:

Yo quisiera darte las constelaciones

Más millones de caricias en un manantial (yeh)

Si te fallo quiero que no me perdones (no)

Porque no mereces que nadie te trate mal

Tu presencia es necesaria por razones

Que hasta el sol de hoy no encuentro ni cómo explicar

Pero estoy agradecido por montones

Porque te encontré cuando no hallaba qué buscar

Tu cabello se posa sobre mi pecho

Y es valioso el hecho de sentirte respirar

Lo creas o no, me siento satisfecho

Pues, tú me mostraste lo importante que es amar

Tus ojos me reflejan el sentimiento

Justo en tus pupilas se deduce que es real (real)

Si no quieres decir nada dame un beso (dame un beso)

Y no me sueltes nunca más

Me siento fenomenal

Porque siento que es real

Listening to him sing the words so quietly, nearly sounding like a prayer to you, warmed your heart, and the tight feeling present in your chest from the moment you woke up seemed to just evaporate as you felt his arms tighten their hold on you, one arm staying around you and the other traveling up to card his fingers through your hair, his lips against the top of your head. And you couldn’t help yourself:

“Te amo, Angel Ignacio Reyes. Hoy y Para Siempre.” You said, with a slight squeeze of your own arms around him before you gave in to the tiredness you’d felt for hours now. Knowing you were safe.

Slipping away into unconsciousness, you smiled as you heard his reply.

“Te amo, Y/N Y/M/N Reyes. Hoy y Para Siempre.”

_______________________________________________

Tags: @calif0rnia-lovers I saw you post something about being tagged in anything involving hoodie szn or just hoodies in general I think @blessedboo @angelreyesgirl

Please lemme know if you want to be tagged(or if not)🥺🥺 also I hope you enjoy it!! Comments and creative criticism welcomed🥰🥰🥰

#mayans mc #mayans fandom #mayans mc fanfic #angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x oc #clayton cardenas #alright lemme disappear from here for abit #that fandom blog sounds like a good idea rn #hennyways enjoy #peace out #this is also getting posted to ao3

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imaginethisdarling · 5 years ago

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Quarantine date’s

word count: 2.2k warnings: none, pure fluff, and okay onee swear word at the end but lets not be fucking children lol summary: ehhhh date inside since we cant go nowhere

ps:hope you are all doing well, and if not i hope you soon be.

“Babe I have an idea.” Henry spoke out of nowhere. Y/n moved her head from his chest to look at him. “Considering you past few ideas, do I really want to know?” she teased and Henry looked genuinely hurt.

“I still don’t see what’s so bad about jumping from our balcony onto the trampoline but fine, then I won’t share it with you.” he pouted and moved his gaze back at the movie they were watching.

Y/n laughed but kept staring at him; she knew he would give up and tell her anyways so there was no point in getting into the movie when she will be interrupted once again.

“So, I was thinking.” Henry started and Y/n giggled. One : zero for Mrs. Y/n, Cavill.

“Since we can’t leave the house and I can’t take you on a proper date, we could have a date indoors.” Henry suggested taking his eyes off the tv to look at Y/n.

“We are kinda already having a date babe. Its called a movie date; all three of us are snuggling and Kal is really enjoying it, we are watching a movie, have snacks; both are in our pj’s. I mean it couldn’t possibly be better than this.” y/n said.

“Yeah and it is great” he raised his hand to make sure not to make it sound like he was having a bad time, “but I was thinking more of a formal date. You know, I cook, you take an afternoon off and relax, get ready in peace. That sort of things.”

Y/n sat up on the sofa and turned her body to face Henry, raising her index finger. “wait, wait, wait, let me get this straight. You are telling me that I have to get up and do my hair, my makeup, get dressed in something that ain’t your t shirt and sweatpants? Yeah buddy, I’m not sure that will work.”

Henry giggled. “come on you lazy ass. You don’t have to put makeup on for all care; you are beautiful any way you chose to be.”

Y/n stared him dead in the eyes “I look beautiful with no makeup? Right now? With this dark circles around my eyes making me look like I come from a family of raccoons really? Really henry? I thought you were supposed to be a better liar.”

Henry laughed at her response “are you calling me a liar? that’s a low blow.”

“I know I ain’t calling you a truther, that’s for sure.” She giggled back.

“Well, I just thought it could be fun, you know.” Henry sighed.

“but I’m already having fun this way.” y/n whined leaning her head against the sofa.

“Okay it was just an idea. Come here, lets finish this movie.” he said extending his hand for her to snuggle up to him again; she quickly did so.

Five minutes into the movie she couldn’t stop but feel guilty. He just wanted to do something nice for her, during this awful times. All they did all day was lay inside, cook, make love, eat some more, maybe workout but mostly cardio, walk Kal every night, watch every movie and tv show possible.

And now he comes up with a different idea and she had to be a lazy twat who isn’t willing to put on a dress for like an hour. When did she become so grumpy sounding like? How does he even put up with her? Well if that ain’t love I don’t know what else is she thought.

“fine, we will have a date tonight.” She mumbled against his chest; henry laughed. “don’t worry babe, we don’t have to it was just an idea.”

“I said we are having a date tonight so you better think what you will cook.”

Henry laughed “yes ma’am.”

Once the movie finished Henry got up making his way into the kitchen, yelling on his way “pick you up at 8 in our bedroom.” Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at her silly boy.

Y/n made her way upstairs into the bathroom. While the man cooks her some nice and healthy meal, she might as well enjoy a little bath time.

Once she got inside her nice and bubbly bath she started thinking what was she going to wear. How formal should she go? He did say it should be formal, but how formal though. But also, when she brought up not wearing sweats he didn’t say she could wear them meaning not that kind of formal.

Should she wear that black dress? Naah the times are already depressed enough for her to wear a black dress. What about that red cocktail one? No, she already wore that too many times for their dates. A white one? Eh, she is bound to spill some food or wine on herself so maybe not that.

Then it dawn on her; she had a perfect dress she never had a chance to wear, so why not tonight. It was sleeveless, long coral blue dress. A deep heart neckline, slit on the right side of the dress, all the way to her hip, right side of the top covered in silk the other in fabric; decorated with a little silk here and there.

It was actually a dress her mother made, and she never even tried it, so tonight will be that night.

She got out of the bath, combing her hair; she decided to tie it up into a high ponytail with few strands of her hair left down. She decided on light makeup, a little of bit of foundation and concealer to make her look human again. Tiny bit of glitter on her eyelids and only lip balm.

She knew henry way to well; he was bound to kiss her during their “date” and he hates when he has lipstick left on his lips, so for his sake she wears none; or she just forbids him from kissing her. Easy peasy lemon squeezy

Heels. Almost went barefoot; she decided for simple, low heel silver shoes.

she put on a perfume she knew henry preferred, silver earrings, a necklace and she was ready to go. She looked red carpet ready, sadly only their grey carpet in the living room would see her.

She looked herself up and down one more time in the mirror deciding she was ready. Does she need a purse? What would she put in, her phone? Well yeah, she needs her purse for her phone.

She looked at the clock and saw it was nearly 8. C’mon Mr. Cavill, the lady awaits.

Few moments later he opened the bedroom door smiling from ear to ear. “You look gorgeous.” Henry said smiling making his way towards her, but Y/n put her hand on her hip the other one out to stop him and took a step back. “So now you ain’t even gonna knock?”

Henry stopped in his tracks, looking at her confused, “why would I knock in my own house?”

“Because, Mr. Cavill, you were the one that wanted to have a formal date indoors and formal date you shall have. So now get out, knock and make this a proper date.” y/n said with a stoic face, never cracking a smile but henry wasn’t that lucky.

He had to bit his tongue to not burst out laughing; he only nodded and exited the room.

The moment he closed the doors she could hear him burst out in laughter and she couldn’t help but join in. after few more moments of their laughter, henry composed himself and knocked on the door.

y/n walked over and opened the door, taking in his appearance. His curls were messily put on one side of his face; his face was clean shaven even though she preferred when he had a little stubble going on; he was wearing his black tuxedo.

Only then she noticed he had a bouquet of roses in his hand, where did he get those, she wondered. He smiled and handed them to her. “You look gorgeous.” He smiled and brought her in for a quick kiss.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He extended his arm and she took it, closing the doors behind her and following him down the stairs.

He dimmed the lights and along each step was a lit candle, creating a beautiful atmosphere. He smiled seeing her surprised reaction, but if she thought that was beautiful she wasn’t ready to see the dining room.

He decorated it with even more candles, adding flower paddles, which again made her wonder where he got those. On the table there were two plates, one across the other; two glasses on each side, one for one and one for water; a bottle of red wine sitting in ice; soft music playing from somewhere probably the tv in the living room, making this even better ambiance than any restaurant could pull off.

“wow.” Was all she managed to mutter out. “You really went all out didn’t you.”

“All the best for my lady.” Henry said kissing her one more time.

He pulled a chair out for her and disappeared into the kitchen, fetching their dinner, while Y/n put the flowers into the vase that was already on the table.

The smell of the food made her love it even before she saw what he had prepared.

He made her favourite dish and she couldn’t wait to devour it. They ate with a small chat here and there. Once they finished their food, he brought out the desert and she nearly melted; another one of her favourites, he knew her so well.

As they finished their desert, Henry got up and Y/n gave him a questioning look. He extended his hand asking, “May I have this dance with you?”

Y/n giggled admiring his old fashion ways; it was so sweet. Sadly, not many guys are like him left and she made sure to enjoy every gentlemen gesture he had instore.

“Yes, you may.” She replied and took his hand.

He walked them into the living room that was just as nicely decorated as the rest of the house. She was in awe, still not being able to comprehend when did she get so lucky to get herself a man like Henry.

She put her hands around his neck while he put his around the waist and they slowly swayed to the sound of the music.

She could’ve stayed like this forever, in the arms of the man she loved, she would never get bored; he was the only reason why she didn’t go nuts during the quarantine or cut her own hair.

“You know I love you right?” he asked and she only giggled. “and I love you too.” She replied.

He separated them so they could look into each other’s eyes, never losing the contact, still slowly swaying to the music.

“My whole life I felt like I’ve been searching for something; something more in my life, to fulfil me to, to be mine and mine forever. And I fulfilled that with Kal for a while, but that wasn’t enough, I wanted more, I needed more; until I found you. you spun my world around the moment I’ve seen you three years ago, in that bar, looking like a goddess in the sea of mortals. I knew nothing about you, yet I knew I needed you in my life, I knew you were just the thing I was looking for; and I went for it, and every night that I get to sleep next to you, I get to fall asleep with you in my arms, I thank God for giving me the courage to walk up to you. I never had a problem with walking up to any girl I wanted, but with you.” he paused and laughed a little, “You made me so self-conscious I nearly didn’t. but I did, and here we are today, three years later; happier than ever. I’ve never been so in love with a person as I have been with you. you make me a better man, a happier man. You get me out of the bed when I don’t want to see anyone, you make me smile when I only want to be grumpy. You make me want to live and be more, so I could be more with you. and that is why.”

he paused letting go of her, reaching his hand into his pocked and took out a small velvet box.

He got on one knee opening the box, revealing the most beautiful ring Y/n has ever seen. She was in so much shock, she just didn’t see this coming; her eyes were full of tears, her hand covering her mouth.

He looked at her, taking her other hand and smiled “I want to ask you if you will make me the happiest man alive and become my wife?”

A tear rolled down her face but she couldn’t find her voice from how surprised she was, to say that little word so she just nodded.

“Yes, yes, yes of course I will.” She said finding her voice.

He put the ring on her finger and kissed her passionately. “I love you so much.” He mumbled against her lips. “So fucking much.”

She tried to reply but she only choked on her tears so she kissed him again, providing an answer.

“Can’t wait to spend the eternity with the best woman on this planet.”

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