ᝰ. 𝔶𝔬𝔲’𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔶𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔦𝔩𝔶
“I wanna live inside your skin—w-what?”
requested: loona x gn! reader. in which, loona has a partner that can’t get enough of her touch
content: fluff, angsty loona, outta pocket remarks, raw unedited and proof read, vulnerability
note: im trying this new quote thing, think its cute. anyways, i tried—swear, but im not the overly touchy type so forgive meee. reader kinda creepy but I feel like she might like the nerdy, emo type 🤷♀️
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི So embarrassingly and shamelessly annoying that, somehow, your worst than her adoptive father. More times than she can count she’s burning up with an embarrassed blush by your actions or blowing a fuse that she later regrets.
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི It’s not really her fault—entirely—she was molded into the person she is by her rough upbringing. Soft, sweet cuteness and raw emotions like love wasn’t something she was used to. Never in her life did she think she would be. Hell, she never thought she would find someone willing to give her that, to look at her that way.
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Then you fell into her lap one day. Not her usual emotionally unavailable type. Someone who actually likes who she is, even after her showing you her mood swings and high level of nonchalance. You stayed, and continue to loyally as you wait for her to break down her Fort Knox guarded heart.
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི The day it broke was one of the happiest days of your life, second to meeting her. It was basic, but wholesome if it was coming from loona: you were both watching tv when she fell asleep, head rolling to fall on your shoulder, which she never does, but it just goes to show how she’s grown to be vulnerable in your presence.
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི You’re fucking vibrating while trying not to wake her, testing the waters and wrap your arms snuggly around her, pulling her closer and softly play footie with hers. Maybe this doesn’t sound like much to others, but they don’t understand that the only skinship you’ve had with loona since the beginning of dating was hand holding.
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Call it selfish, or desperate—you didn’t give a flying monkey’s ass but she just opened up a whole can of warms. But being openly touchy with loona was not for the weak. Blitzø is still adjusting to someone else important in her life. He’s very salty that she accepts your hugs less…aggressively.
“If you were a worm, I’d still love you but I’d probably kill you—accidentally, because I would never wanna leave you alone or let you go! Ever!”
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Surprisingly she likes petting, but it gets outta hand when you pet her randomly—around others and not in the confinement of your rooms. She’s blushing furiously and you’re explaining she’s just soft to touch. Your comfort sense. BUT SHE’S NOT SOFT. Stop saying embarrassing things, she has a rep to uphold. Okay, she’s not!
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི She no longer rides shotgun in the imp van when you tag along. She’s in the back with you—by the window, of course—gazing out at the scenery all movie like. One ear bud in hers, the other in yours and she has a hand softly in yours. And it so sweet coming from her, it has you all mushy inside that your scooting impossibly closer to the point you shift her onto your lap, ignoring the glares blitzø sends through the rearview mirror.
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Sometimes you’d purposely rile her up, angry or horny didn’t matter, all so she can back you up into a wall with a finger pointingly jabbing into your chest. To anyone else, she might look scary because no one would want to be on the other end of a hell hound; you were hopelessly in love with this one, you’re delusional in thinking she would never hurt you and take the risk.
“I wanna carve our initials—like they do in movies—but instead of trees, my body because I’m yours.”
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི The first time you cuddled, she was the first one tapping out. It was so fucking hot, her fur and your body heat on top of hers. But you being how you were, refused to let her leave your company, even when you were sweating down your temple and your shirt’s sticking to your skin. If this relationship was going to continue, she better get used to it cause you weren’t letting her go.
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི If you go on missions and this one was particularly dangerous, her hands are on you the second your back within her reach. She’s desperately searching your body for any serious injuries, all while tears gather on her lashes and fighting back her hands from trembling. Will deny she’s crying while burying her face in your neck, calling you names and sweet nothings in the same sentence. You just turn into a puddle in her arms as she makes a fuss over you—no one’s ever done this before—you could get used to it.
“If I were to die today, I’ll be the ghost that whisper sweet nothings in your ear. Even in death you can’t get rid of me.”