wthzoe - Tumblr blog

wthzoe · 2 years

Text

STRONG - bakugou katsuki

WORD COUNT: 1.3K

SYPNOSIS: you realising how strong your pro hero boyfriend is

CONTENTS: pro hero!bakugou x gn!reader, fluff, size difference, established relationship

AUTHOR’S NOTE: yeah m posting after half a million years, so what? i havent proof read it but i hope you enjoy

thinking about katsuki getting so so big in his prime, like he can probably shield three or four people from his back alone. and you know it, you can see it but you still couldn’t wrap your head around the strength of the muscle tower of a boyfriend of yours.

that is until one day when you stand outside of his agency watching him saying something to the receptionist and nodding as a greeting before making his way to the huge glass doors to get outside. you jump a lil on your toes as you feel excitement and pure joy rushing in your whole body knowing from this moment till the next sunrise him and his attention is all yours. you can’t help but grin widely, your body aches to jump in his arms, to wrap your arms around his neck and to fill his ear from praises of how well he did today no matter what- until his head and body starts feeling light as if he’s floating on soft clouds you built from your soft praises.

and so you do just that. as soon as he is out of those ridiculously large glass doors you’re sprinting towards him, he spots you instantly like he always does, as if there’s a detector of your presence fit inside his head.

he takes two steps forward with his arms wide open and so so inviting for his and only his baby, and he may or may not have let a chuckle rumble out of his chest despite being out in public and right out of his agency at that. and if you will ask him, he won’t shy away from telling you that’s what you do to him, that it’s how his soul lets himself loose before his mind catches up to him.

you make him lose his mind.

and when you finally leap into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck, feet dangling above the ground cause he’s just so tall, head going right in the crook of his neck, his muscles toned and you feel him everywhere around you, as if all there is in your lil world is him.

you feel him before you hear him.

“hi baby, how are ya doin’?” he asks in his deep voice, as his one hand comes up to brush away the hair strands that had fallen forward in your face while his other is wrapped securely around your waist. and you’re looking at him with the same lovesick eyes from years ago when you had fallen for him and he’s looking at you with equally sweet eyes that will make anyone from around you guys question if this is the same dynamight whose one look is enough to make anyone rip their own heart out in terror before he does it from his own hands.

he waits for your reply just to watch with a brow raised when your mouth opens and closes itself and your eyes start roaming around his broad chest as you press both your palms against it. with your eyes still stuck staring at his chest you tap two fingers twice against him and as if he’s trained, he sets you on the ground carefully still holding onto your waist.

“you okay babe?” he asks once again, brows slightly furrowed as he tries to make out what might have left you speechless like this.

and then oh he gets it.

he gets it when you lick your bottom lip and try to push him back with both your palms laying flat on his chest, you try to make him move, to make him budge from his spot just for him to stand there still and towering over you.

“…wow” you whisper out breathlessly. he smirks before inquiring, “whatcha doin’ sweetheart? you want me to let you go hm?” and he knows, he knows what you’re doing and how you want anything but for him to let you go but he wants to hear it from you.

“no no suki, don’t want you to let go. it’s just..” you take a step forward and hold his arm that is encircled around your waist so he holds you to himself closer, “you’re so so strong suki- i mean i knew you were! but how did you not move an inch when i threw myself on you?” you ramble out

and now he’s smirking all wide showing his sharp canines, “you think im strong baby?”

and it’s like a silent request for you to tell him more, to praise him more. you hum as you look up at him, “i do baby. you’re so strong and i love it so much” you tell him with your whole chest leaving no room for doubt and you watch how his eyes light up and feel how his chest puffs under your palm. if it wasn’t for his brain to still have somewhat of control he would have beamed at you all wide. sure he has been told that a lot of times, hell he hears it after saving lives everyday.

but it’s different when it’s you telling him that.

you start trailing your palms up and down his chest before pushing once again and he grabs both your palms in one hand chuckling, “what? are ya plannin’ to keep tryin’ to make me budge?”

“i mean if you’ll let me..” you trail off and watch as a smirk spreads across his annoyingly attractive face “try your best sweetheart” he mumbles with a low voice, raising his brows in a challenging manner.

the next few minutes you spent trying to move him with all your body weight, leaning on his left arm and then right arm. trying to shove him forward from behind, so on and so forth. all while he’s either chuckling to himself or grinning.

and when you finally get tired he watches you with a little smile as you try to catch your breath

“think i felt myself move a cm if that coun-” a light smack on his peck from you is enough to shut him up and he tries really hard to keep his laugh in as you send him a glare. “‘suki, i am tiredd” you whine out slightly pouting at your defeat

katsuki leans down before he takes your face in both of his palms, fingertips gently swiping along the apples of your cheeks and then he presses a really sweet kiss on your lips, you kiss him back immediately and a chuckle rumbles out from his chest. he pulls back and throws you over his shoulder making you squeal

“i get it you’re really strong suki” you groan out, acting annoyed but he grins all wide knowing better when he feels you touch his back muscles even when you’re upside down.

the next day the internet and both of your social handles break with “pro hero dynamight seen grinning wholeheartedly for the first time” and it’s pictures of you trying all the tricks you can master in your head to make him move while he stands there grinning, eyes crinkled at the corner, teeth on display and everything plus of you thrown over his shoulder as he walks with his chest puff and grinning so bright as if he had just won the battle of his life. and in a way he believes he did cause he has you.

you find him on the couch of your shared apartment, scrolling through one of these articles and for the first time you see katsuki going through an article about him without scowling and your heart spreads love, all warm, throughout your body when the same grin from the picture spreads across his face once again as he stares at your pics surfacing the internet.

comment your @ with 'add me’ if you wanna be added in my taglist

if you like it, reblog it or you’re a pussy /j

8K notes · View notes

wthzoe · 2 years

Text

a piece of you with me kageyama tobio/reader (haikyuu!) word count: 1.5k tags: soft boyf tobio, domestic bliss, long distance relationship woes, mans has never worn an ankle sock and you cannot change my mind

Kageyama Tobio has only ever owned two kinds of socks.

White ones, and black ones.

Same brand.

Same style.

He receives a new 5-pack of each colour for every birthday from his mother and father, retiring the oldest 5 pairs of each shade to replace with the new ones each time.

He owns 30 pairs total, which may seem like a lot, but he’s a strong proponent of a midday sock change, and his training schedule as a professional athlete necessitates more than one pair per day between training and morning runs and practices — plus he’s bad at remembering to do his laundry.

You know a lot of things about Kageyama, that’s a normal part of dating someone. But you learn new things about him all the time, like how when he was a kid he had a reoccurring dream about being a magician’s assistant, or that he sometimes gets hives if he eats too many strawberries but eats them anyway in the summer time.

Or how he only owns two kids of socks.

It’s still relatively early in your relationship when you figure this out, less than a year in — you’re at Tobio’s apartment, having let yourself in with the key he’d given you after only a few weeks of dating, much to your own surprise, and you decide to put in a load of laundry when you get a text letting you know he’s running a bit later than expected and you spot the overflowing hamper in his room.

You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor sorting the clean laundry to fold when you notice that the socks are easily divided into two practically identical piles, save for the shade of the cotton.

You blink down at the two masses of fabric.

“I’m home,” Tobio’s voice cuts across the apartment, pulling you from your stupor. He calls your name, and his head pops through his bedroom door before you can reply, only to find you staring at the socks in your hand - white in left, black in right.

“Did you do my laundry?” he asks. It might have sounded cold to anyone else, but you’ve learned to decipher the nuance in his tone well enough to detect appreciation, if not a little bit of incredulity in his words. “You didn’t need to do-“

“Do you only own two kinds of socks?” you can’t hold the question back any longer.

He looks at you strangely for a moment.

“Technically it’s one kind. Just two colours,” he explains.

Like that’s any better.

But this is just another part of him that makes him who he is — and like the childhood dreams and occasional hives, you accept it and move on.

Until the next Christmas rolls around.

Call it divine intervention, but in the midst of some last minute gift shopping on your way home from work one day, you spot them: a pair of bright blue socks with little white volleyballs printed on them. You make your way home with them tucked safely in your bag — to your shared apartment, now that half of the things in Tobio’s apartment are yours.

When Tobio opens the little gift on Christmas morning it takes him a moment to even figure out what they are.

"What am I supposed to do with these?” he asks you with a furrow in his brow.

"Wear them?” you laugh, sipping your steaming cup of coffee.

And so Kageyama suddenly finds himself the owner three kinds of socks, but he only wears two — the third remaining tucked safely in his otherwise monochromatic sock drawer, unworn.

Something else you learn about Kageyama relatively early on in your relationship is that he’s pretty good at goodbyes. A necessity, you gather, from a professional athlete who is constantly travelling for away games and training and various other opportunities.

What you learn about yourself is that you are not good at goodbyes at all.

Tobio is exceedingly patient as you gather with the rest of the Adlers players and their families outside the arena to say your final goodbyes before the group of men boards their team bus for the airport, to catch a flight to Europe where they’ll be playing for six weeks.

Six weeks.

It feels like a lifetime to you, but Tobio thinks otherwise. He tells you as much as you hold him tightly outside the arena, your puffy face buried into his chest, eyes red and watery from the tears you’ve been shedding from the moment the alarm on your bedside table went off at 5AM.

“That’s not even two menstrual cycles,” your boyfriend reminds you, in what you’re sure he thinks is a helpful way, patting your head gently.

“Tobio, don’t talk to me about menstrual cycles when we’re saying goodbye,” you whine, your words lightly muffled by his coat. While you appreciate that he’s been trying to learn more about you lately, you didn’t expect him to absorb the information he’d found on the female reproductive system quite so readily.

“Okay,” he says, and you can’t see his face but you think he might be smiling a little bit.

When he's unpacking his bags in his hotel room a million miles away he finds them, the bright blue socks with volleyballs on them that you’d secretly tucked into his suitcase when you were helping him back the night before he left.

And he wears them when he misses you while he’s gone (i.e. a lot.)

Five weeks and six days later, it’s like the middle of the night when you feel Tobio’s side of the bed dip, and a familiar warmth wrap itself around your half sleeping form.

“You’re home early,” you croak out wiping at your eyes so you can see him better in the dim light of your bedroom.

He hums, his eyes already closed as he rests his head on his pillow next to yours.

“You should change out of your travelling clothes,” you point out to him after a moment.

He simply kicks off his sweatpants and pulls off his sweatshirt, hardly rising from his horizontal position on the bed. You catch a peek of bright blue on his feet and you pause, looking over at him.

“Nice socks,” you say, smiling, as he slips under the covers with you.

He simply grunts, pulling you down to rest your head on his chest, right over his heart.

“I think they might be lucky,” Tobio says sleepily, already halfway to unconsciousness after his long day of travelling, and weeks apart from you.

“Is that so?” you ask with a quiet laugh.

“Yeah, when I was wearing them I always won,” he replies, and your heart flutters in your chest when you realize his choice of hosiery was not due to simply running out of other clean pairs. “Maybe it’s cause I missed you less because i had a piece of you with me.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as he presses a soft kiss to the crown of your hair, and you know he has no idea how sweet what he just said is.

So you start buying socks for him all the time, in every fun colour, pattern and texture you can find.

And he always wears them.

No one understands the sudden fashion change, because he's Kageyama — Shoyo even sends you a frantic text when the two of them are at lunch one afternoon asking why your boyfriend is wearing socks with blueberries printed on them.

But you’re the only one who knows it’s because they remind him of you.

Years later, one of the pairs of socks gets a hole in them, and Tobio is devastated. It’s the first pair you ever bought for him — the pair he wore to his first olympics, the pair he wore when he asked you to marry him, and the pair he was wearing when you met him at the altar.

“Can you fix them?” he asks you, his eyes wide and desperate as he cradles the precious pair of socks in his hands.

“Tobi, I only paid 100 yen for these — it’s a miracle they lasted as long as they did,” you wince, examining the way that the toe of one of the socks has ripped almost entirely off, and the other is only faring marginally better.

“Please,” he asks, earnest and resolved, “can you try?”

You smile softly and nod.

And a few days later, you bring them back to him — and he looks up at you with wide, glistening eyes as he cradles the bright blue fabric with little white volleyballs printed on it that you had carefully cut and stitched back together.

Into a teeny tiny pair of baby socks.

2K notes · View notes

wthzoe · 2 years

Note

ushijima uwu

hello miss mae this almost KILLED me just so we're clear

18+ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT tags: car fuckin', mafia/gang AU, mentions of violence/death, implied breeding kink word count: 1.7k

"Where is she?"

You hear the rumble of your husband's voice before you see him, but an unmistakable feeling of relief washes over you all the same--the mere knowledge that he's near, that he's safe, is enough to mollify the tight squeeze of anxiety in your chest.

The doors to the Wakatoshi's office fly open, and in he strides, his frantic underlings skittering to the edges of the room as he makes his fierce entrance. His eyes scan the room for you, and when he sees you the fury burning in his gaze softens.

"Toshi," you murmur, your lip wobbling.

He approaches where you sit upon the leather sofa in the centre of the room, crossing the expansive of the sumptuous office in no more than three long strides. He drops to his knees the moment he reaches you and cups your face in his large hands, his eyes raking over you for even the most remote sign of harm.

"Are you alright?" he asks you quietly, a stiffness in his tone like he can't bear to hear the answer, though he desperately needs to know.

"I'm fine," you say with a sniffle, your hands reaching up to rest atop his own as he cradles your cheeks. "Goshiki and Shirabu got me out of there safely before anyone could hurt me."

Your husband��s eyes turn to the young men flanking either end of the sofa who hadn't left your side since you'd been brought to Ushijima's office after the ordeal. There's appreciation in his gaze--though only those closest to him would be keen enough to spot it—and he nods at them in thanks.

Then his eyes are back on you.

"Tendou," Ushijima calls back to his second-in-command, though he keeps his gaze fixed forward.

The red-haired man leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe perks up a little, twirling his gun idly between his unusually long fingers. The pistol is loaded, you're sure.

"Prepare my car and have it brought around back."

Tendou salutes him with a flourish and a little laugh, though your husband doesn’t turn to see it, slipping from the room after shooting a sly wink your way.

Wakatoshi helps you up to your feet, and you cling to his hands as you still feel a little unsteady. He eyes the coat wrapped around your shoulders.

“Whose is this?” he asks you, dropping one of your hands to pinch the material of the suit jacket between his index finger and thumb.

“Mine, Sir,” Shirabu speaks up from behind you, a waver of sheepishness in his voice though he tries his best to hide it. “She was trembling when we brought her inside.”

There’s a twitch at the edge of Wakatoshi’s jaw so subtle you may have missed it if you didn’t know him so well.

He peels the coat off you, throwing it in Shirabu’s direction. The younger man falters as he tries to catch it, not expecting the sudden gesture. Your husband then removes off his own suit jacket and pulls it around your frame instead--it’s significantly larger than Shirabu’s, and it smells like him, comforting and familiar. You pull the lapels around you tightly, nestling into the warmth.

“Getaway car’s all set!” Tendou singsongs, appearing in the doorway again, bending backwards at an angle that seems unnatural.

Without so much as another word, Ushijima places a hand on the small of your back and leads you swiftly towards the door.

Tendou joins the two of you in the elevator down to the ground floor, still twirling his gun as he whistles a little tune to himself.

“What have you heard from Semi?” Ushijima asks, and you know he’s not speaking to you.

You watch the apples of Tendou’s cheeks lift as you eye his profile.

“It was Seijoh.”

Ushijima’s hand not resting on your waist curls into a fist at his side.

“Seems that pretty-boy king of theirs has really got it out for you, Boss—”

There’s something too chipper about the way Tendou speaks, given the circumstances. It’s always unsettled you, but particularly now: so shortly following an attempt on your life.

“—and your darling little wife too.”

You know that if anyone else had made the same comment, they wouldn’t have made it out of the elevator alive.

It’s quiet the rest of the way down to the lobby, and you watch the floor numbers tick by on the digital screen above the doors to pass the time, from 12 all the way to L. Finally, with a chime, you reach your destination.

Wakatoshi tucks you against his side, stepping out of the elevator ahead of you but keeping you near—shielding you while still holding you close, just like he always does.

He pauses just before the doors slide closed again with Tendou still inside.

He glances back over his shoulder, his tone low as he calls one last order to his trusted right-hand man.

“I want them all dead by the time the sun is up.”

Tendou giggles, gleeful and deranged all at once.

“You got it, boss!”

The car is waiting just where it should be, Kawanishi behind the wheel and Reon waiting with the door open to usher you in.

“You’ll be taken to the safe house in Shiroishi. Yamagata and Soekawa have already gone ahead to prepare,” Reon says as Wakatoshi helps you into the backseat of the spacious, reinforced vehicle.

He pauses before following you into the backseat, exchanging words you can’t make out with Reon outside before taking his seat next to you as the door swings shut.

You make eye-contact with Kawanishi in the rearview mirror fleetingly before Wakatoshi presses a button and the privacy window rolls up between you, sealing you into the backseat with your husband, leaving the two of you finally alone.

It’s quiet for the first few minutes of the car ride, and you sit with your arms still wrapped around yourself, holding Wakatoshi’s suit jacket tightly against your frame.

“I’m sorry.”

They’re the first words your husband has said to you that aren’t phrased in the form of a question, but they’re heavy as they hang in the air.

“Why?” you ask quietly, turning towards him. You're surprised to see him seated with his elbows resting on his knees as he hangs his head.

His tie is loosened, the top few buttons of his neatly pressed dress shirt undone.

He looks weary as he lifts his face to meet your gaze.

“You were in danger,” he says quietly, “and I was not there to protect you when you needed me.”

Your heart pangs at the remorse you see behind his eyes, reaching out to take his face in your hands.

“Toshi,” you say, your voice soft and soothing as your thumbs trace the line of his jaw. The lights passing outside the tinted windows glint lustrously in the diamond on your ring finger. “There’s no way you could have possibly known that this would happen; you can’t be everywhere at once.”

“I should have been there,” he argues, staunch in his belief that he has somehow failed you.

“Your men were there to protect me, and they did. There’s nothing more you could have done that would have protected me any further.”

Wakatoshi’s hands ball into fists where they rest atop his thighs, a sharp breath sucked in.

“If anything had happened to you—“

He doesn’t finish the thought.

He can't bear to.

You pull yourself up to your knees on the leather upholstery, hands still resting on either side of his face, and press your forehead against his.

“I’m fine,” you breathe, assuring his as best you can. “I’m here and I’m fine, Toshi.”

You reach for one of his hands, pressing it to your chest so he can feel the steady beat of your heart underneath you ribs—as sure a sign as any that your words ring true.

Wakatoshi tilts his head up a little further, so his lips ghost across yours.

“Can you ever forgive me?” he asks.

“There’s nothing to be forgiven,” you reply, sealing the words you avow to him with a kiss.

The drive from Sendai to Shiroishi is not long, and it is only made shorter by the speed at which Kawanishi travels the roads.

But still, in spite of knowing that you were soon to arrive at your destination, it does not stop Wakatoshi’s hands.

Not from wandering, or from pulling you firmly into your lap. It doesn’t keep your dress from being hiked up around your waist, nor your panties from being dragged down your thighs.

And if your husband’s hands are worshipping you, then his lips deify.

“You mean more to me than anything,” Wakatoshi breathes the words into the skin of your neck, carefully stretching you open as you tremble atop his lap.

You whimper as his long, thick fingers curl inside of you, diligently preparing you for the cock you’re stroking with your own hand when your hazy mind allows it. He’s always so careful with you, so considerate, so conscientious of preparing your body to take him so you’ll never feel any pain.

“I’d do anything for you,” he murmurs, mouthing his way up along your jaw. He kisses you once, then twice, then one time more. “I’d give you anything.”

“I just want you,” your words are strained but ardent, punctuated by a moan as his fingers graze a spot inside of you that makes your thighs flex and your toes curl.

“You deserve so much more,” he says, finally pulling his fingers back from your dripping, aching core. He smears the slickness of your arousal down his cock, another effort to ease your strain, before lining himself up beneath you.

“My wife,” Wakatoshi says, pressing a kiss against your heaving chest, just over your heart. “The mother of my children.”

“We don’t have any children,” you say breathlessly, but with a little laugh. The sound hiccups in your throat as Wakatoshi drags the head of his cock along your slit, the soft head nudging against the swollen bundle of nerves thrumming at the top.

Slowly, agonizingly, Wakatoshi pushes his way inside—it’s so tantalizingly unhurried that you feel every ridge of him as he carves into you, your walls tightening around the intrusion even in spite of how long he’d spent working you open in preparation.

Finally, mercifully, you find yourself fully seated upon his lap—the thick press of his cock inside of you so full and overwhelming that you can do nothing else but whine. He catches your lips in another kiss, swallowing the sound and savouring it as he lets you adjust.

He hums, giving a tentative roll of his hips against yours, and your hands tangle in his hair at the sensation, tugging lightly against the strands.

He pulls away, but not entirely, his swollen lips still close enough that you can feel them pull into a little smile.

“Oh," he murmurs against your mouth, and your breath hitches as he gives another thrust, this one less hesitating than the first, "I’ll make a mother of you yet.”

953 notes · View notes

wthzoe · 2 years

Text

what's stopping me from writing a peaky blinders fic

0 notes

wthzoe · 2 years

Text

Describe your handwriting without using the words “messy” or neat”

#ngl i write like a gd honor student #like i have my sht together but i dont really #my friend said my math notes made them wanna study

62K notes · View notes

wthzoe · 2 years

Text

haikyuu but all of us are dead!au can u imagine

#haikyuu #haikyuu au

0 notes

wthzoe · 2 years

Text

spring in winter [sawamura daichi x f!reader]

word count: 952

a/n: i finally have a little bit of time for myself. this was written in like thirty minutes and is not proof read but i hope you still enjoy 😅 also, this is posted in mobile so i cant add a keep reading yet. also also, i didn't mean this to become specifically female reader, i got too carried away and projected lmao.

it was a chilly winter afternoon, and nothing pissed you off more than losing to a rock-paper-scissors game to choose who gets to buy the office coffee. not to mention you were underdressed for the weather. walking out of the building with a mere trench coat over your formal office wear, which mind you consisted only of a simple long sleeve button up and a knee-length pencil skirt.

shivering, you trudged the five-minute walk to the nearest cafe. there were a few slips here and there but nonetheless, you arrived in one piece. the warmth from the cafe's heater and the lovely smell of coffee soothed your initially pissy mood as soon as you entered. after placing your order, you took a seat at one of the tables right next to the window, admiring the snow you were just cursing a while ago. a few minutes later, the cafe's door bell rings accompanied by a gleeful giggle coming from a toddler, probably not older than three. you made eye contact with the little girl carried by (a rather beefy) man with short brown hair.

and so, just as any other person who makes eye contact with babies would do, you decided to make funny faces at her to make her laugh. the first ones were mild, only making her smile and squirm a bit. you were debating whether to continue or not, thinking about the many people surrounding you, but you continued anyway. pulling a rather tricky funny face, one that would probably give you a wrinkle or two, the baby finally laughed out loud. it would have been fine and all, maybe even considered an achievement, had the handsome (beefy) man not turned to look at you.

the speed at which your facial expression drops was record time. the man smiled at you before walking your way. you were so sure that your heart had stopped beating, was it his attractiveness or him catching you, a stranger, in the act of making the little girl in his arms laugh? you weren't quite sure. but what you were sure of is that he was so tall, towering over you in your seat.

"hello," he spoke.

"hi..." you trailed off. "i'm sor–"

"do you mind if we sit here with you? the cafe's sort of full."

"oh, yeah, i mean– no, i don't mind." he smiled at your words before sitting down, placing the little girl in his lap.

"i saw what you were doing earlier," and just like that, all the blood in your system rushed to your face. "oh, no. it's okay! it's just that, it's not easy to make her laugh like that. you have quite the talent."

"or a very funny face," you deadpan before taking ir back. "i mean–" his manly laugh took you aback.

"yeah, maybe it's that." he reached his open hand to you. "the names daichi, sawamura daichi and this is chiyo."

you took his hand in yours, feeling his slightly calloused hands. "i'm y/n. your daughter has such a cute name, did you name her?"

"oh she's not my daughter," he corrected. "she's my cousin's."

that was maybe the nth time you've embarrassed yourself within the day, and it's beginning to take a toll on you. you burried your burning face in your hands, screaming internally. "i'm so sorry."

"it's okay, i do get that a lot. and if it makes you feel any better, it's fine by me. sometimes i take her to work and pretend she's my daughter."

you peek from between your fingers, seeing his reassuring smile. you lowered your hands which surprisingly made chiyo giggle, probably thinking you were playing peek-a-boo with her. this unknowingly made you smile again, prompting you to repeat the action.

"peek-a-boo!" you quietly exclaimed, which makes her laugh. after about four more rounds of playing, your name was finally called.

you quickly mumble a goodbye to both of them before rushing to the counter, not wanting to inconvenience the workers. with a huff, you gather the courage to face what can be considered a snow storm outside. a few steps later, maybe five, you hear your name being called by a familiar voice. you turned to see daichi and chiyo, the latter holding a scarf in her tiny hands. once they approach you, you see daichi nudge chiyo lightly, making the girl reach out to you. it took an embarassing amount of seconds for you to realize that she was trying to wrap the scarf around you but there wasn't much you can do but to lower yourself, what with your hands being both occupied and all.

daichi assisted chiyo with his free hand, "it's too cold out here for that outfit."

"sorry..."

he chuckled softly, "well don't apologize to me. apologize to yourself and dress warmer next time."

"okay. but how do i return this to you?"

"i'm glad you asked." daichi reached into his pocket for a folded piece of napkin. he gently placed said item in your coat's pocket. "i wrote my email address there so you can contact me. maybe next time we can meet up again in the cafe, just you and me."

at that, the numbing cold of the relentless weather was long forgotten. it was like spring emerged faster than it should have.

"i'd like that." you answered.

"that's great," he beamed. "now go, i don't want you catching a cold. see you soon."

"you too," you turn to the little girl in his arms. "bye, chiyo. i hope we meet again soon, too."

after one last smile, you finally turned to run back to your office. the spot where the napkin lies remaining warm on your chest.

19 notes · View notes

wthzoe · 3 years

Text

i feel so called out 😭

[15:23] after hours of sitting down completing your assignments, finally you unlocked your bedroom door, revealing your disheveled state. dark circles around your eyes were visible, tiny bumps started appearing on your face, you didn't even remember the last time you took shower.

serves you right, you and your tendency of completing tasks last minute finally took a toll on you. claiming that you could do things better when the pressure is on you won't touch your reports until the deadline was exactly 5 hours away.

jaemin's attention to the television quickly shifted towards you as he heard creaking sound of your door. your boyfriend was generous enough to not disturb you but you were positive that you'll get an earful from him later.

reaching his hands out he motioned you to get closer and sit on his lap, which you complied to. you curled yourself into his lap as you encircled your arms around his neck. his fingers absentmindedly stroking your thigh. you leaned to his shoulder, sighing heavily.

"finally, i have done my assignments. these past few days were very hard."

he cupped your face, prompting you to look at his concerned expression, "i've already told you to finish it sooner, you won't listen."

you whined, "i can't help it, my brain cells only work when the next day is the deadline. you could give me a year to complete a report, i would start writing a day before i need to send it."

jaemin shook his head at your words, completely unamused with your love for procrastination. he was amazed at how you could get perfect marks when you spent the whole night cramming for the exam, but he wasn't happy about you neglecting your sleep and health.

he intertwined his pinky fingers with yours, his stern gaze piercing directly through your soul it made you gulp.

"repeat after me, i, y/n," "i, y/n."

"will promise to," "will promise to."

"finish my assignments earlier."

you remained silent as you grinned sheepishly at him, making jaemin pinch your side hard.

"baby!"

a/n this is for procrastinators out there we rock! (｡￫∀￩｡) requested by anon, 38 & 44 from this prompt (requests are closed)

like and reblog!

614 notes · View notes