#It's like - THIS is the only thing that's remained constant in your life and you're gonna change it - distort it - for what?
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hoonieyun · 1 day ago
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collecting tears - jongseong
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jar of tears that were shed for jongseong
park jongseong x reader "y/n"
genre: angst, breakup, the one that got away
warnings: profanity, mental illness/depression, overall 18+
summary: no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get jongseong out of your head. two years after your tear filled and emotional breakup, he's still on your mind but it seems he hasn't thought about you since that night.
I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier olivia rodrigo - happier word count: 2007
text in italics are flashbacks
You saw him in everything. 
You saw him in the way your glasses reflected the light as it sat on your vanity.
You saw him in the way your guitar collected dust in the corner of your bedroom. 
And you saw him in your reflection as you stared at your tear stained face and dark circles under your eyes. 
The memory of Jongseong that you held onto hurt more than the idea of being without him, because being without him only led to the memories of when you were with him, something that no longer exists in your life. 
Jongseong. 
The events of your tear filled and emotional breakup replays in your mind often, Jongseong’s tired face and the broken picture frame scattered into thousands of pieces in your bedroom. You could hear the argument in your head like it was playing through a speaker that followed you wherever you went. The last words you ever spoke to him ringing in your ears as a constant reminder that your inability to process your emotions and failure to stabilize your mind was the reason you were so lonely, even two whole years after your breakup. 
It’s a gloomy afternoon in the middle of September. The weather foreshadows the inevitable dreary, dull, and dark outcome of what your life would be for years to come. You had been in bed all day, crippled by your anxiety and depression, making it difficult for you to make any rational decisions or clear judgement of what you should be doing. 
Your phone fills with unanswered calls and texts that would remain unanswered until you convinced yourself enough that you weren’t a burden to others. Something that you wouldn’t be able to shake off for almost half a year from today. A feeling that still lingers and creeps up onto you every now and then. 
“Honey?” a voice asks from beyond the darkness of your bedroom. You quickly wiped away your tears and did your best to make it seem like you weren’t crying the whole day. Pulling yourself up and dragging the blanket further up your body to cover yourself as if your boyfriend, Jongseong, was anyone you should be hiding away from. His tenderness and soft demeanor was the first thing that attracted you towards him, his good looks was just a plus. 
“Honey, are you still sleeping?” Jongseong asks as he slowly pushes the door of your bedroom open, a slight creak sounding from the hinges as light emerges from the other side of the door, Jongseong’s silhouette outlined by the light. “Hi… No, i’ve just been in bed. Doing some thinking…” you say, trying to avoid the fact that you were just crying and hoping that he doesn’t notice as he makes his way closer. 
Your bed dips as Jongseong takes a seat next to your figure, still hiding under the blanket. It goes without being said but Jongseong knew you all too well.
He knew when you were really happy over fake happy because true joy spreads across your face when your eyes widen and you blink a thousan times, like you were trying your best to contain your joy but ultimately failing. 
He knew when you were upset because you would sniffle your nose as a way to avoid awkward silence or having to voice out your feelings. 
And he knew when you were sad because you’d rather surround yourself in the comfort of the darkness instead of reaching out to the hand that could pull you away from the dark. Much like how you were right now. 
Jongseong would’ve never abandoned you. He vowed that he would always be by your side no matter what, had you let him. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” he asks, already knowing the answer but he’s made it a habit to encourage you to vocalize your feelings so that it would be easier for you to process them. You only hummed in response but you knew that you should’ve told him how you felt in that moment because it only manifested into something worse. 
He sighs at your response, he would be lying if he said that sometimes he wished it was easier, but what was love if it didn’t have some ups and downs. Jongseong just hoped that it was up more than it was down. You scoff at him. Your anxiety was already talking you closer to a ledge and you didn’t need this from him right now. You were convinced that he only came here to make you more upset and the voices validated that outrageous claim over the evidence that Jongseong only had love for you. 
“You don’t need to be here. You can leave.” your harsh words piercing into Jongseong’s heart, a feeling of guilt over hurt as he had hoped his presence alone would be enough to make you feel better but it only made you feel worse and he didn’t know why. 
“Why would I leave? I want to be here, let me take care of you.” Jongseong says, inching closer to you but you quickly recoil away from, widening the distance like your mattress was meters long. “What’s wrong? Y/N, talk to me…” Jongseong urges but his pleas of wanting to be let in only read as judgement. Like he was judging you for the way you were instead of trying to understand you. Your mind forces a lie for you to believe over the truth, that Jongseong loved you and he wished you knew how much he did. 
He loved you more than anxiety loved to cling onto the smallest piece of doubt in your mind. 
He loved you more than you loved the darkness. 
And he loved you more than words could say but no amount of words could ever tell you that. 
“Just leave, I don’t need you here to think I’m someone to take care of and be seen as a burden!” you say, voice now a bit louder as frustration begins to build inside of you. “Honey, you’re not a burden and I’d never treat you like that.” Jongseong says as he settles his hand over your thigh, rubbing it softly over the blanket. 
“Why do you do that? Huh?!” you ask, scattering away from his touch and dragging yourself out of bed to stand in front of him. 
“You think you can just come in here and act like I’m some poor and unfortunate thing that needs to be fixed or that needs to be looked after. I know you see me as a burden Jongseong, you just don’t want to say it because you’d rather convince yourself that you love me instead of facing the truth. 
What did you even come here for? To make sure that I wasn’t doing well? So you could come and swoop in to save the day? You see me as nothing more than just a sick puppy to take care of. You’ve only stayed as long as you have because you pity me more than you love me.” the words just continue to spill out of you. the voices inside of your head had fully convinced you that everything you were saying was the truth and you were only just helping Jongseong face it. 
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He loved you more than anything and he couldn’t process the fact that you only saw him as someone that pitied you over someone that truly loves you. Because he did. He loved you… or was he starting to believe that what you were saying was in fact the truth. 
“How could you say that?” Jongseong says, voice low and discouraged. Great, now you had upset him and intead of focusing on yourself you now had to worry about your boyfriend’s feelings. 
“I- You know what. We’re done. Get out.” your voice was dull but it stabbed Jongseong’s heart like it was nothing. “What?” he says in disbelief and you don’t even give him time to process as you're grabbing his wrists and doing your best to drag him out of your apartment. His body was heavy as he tried to stop you but there was something, aside from you, pulling Jongseong out of your apartment and away from you. 
Was it wrong to say that maybe there was a small chance he had been waiting for you to push him away? That he had been secretly hoping you would finally get tired of him so that he no longer had to deal with you? Was that so wrong for him to want to be happy in the chance that it meant not being happy with you?
As he pondered these questions, the slam of your front door knocked him out of his thoughts, eyes glued onto the brown paint of the front door. Jongseong contimplated to knock on the door, beg for him to be let in, but he chooses not. Dropping his hand to his side with a sigh as he turns on his heel and walks away from your apartment. 
And ultimately walking away from you, forever. 
You, on the other hand, waited on the other side of the door, tears welling in your eyes the longer you waited for Jongseong to try and make his way back in. Hoping that you would hear his voice that you loved so much, ask for you to open the door so he could take care of you. 
Because maybe, even if you thought you didn’t need it, you did need to be taken care of. And Jongseong was the person who had done that for as long as you could remember. 
But the longer you waited the more sadness and regret filtered out the insecurity and doubt. Leaving you to stand in your home, alone, and never to see Jongseong again. 
You drag yourself back into your bedroom, flickering the light on and the first thing your eyes fall to is the framed photo of you and Jongseong. The photo was of the day he asked you to be his girlfriend. A photo of you sitting in the middle of a field for a picnic that he had planned. Flowers and your favorite food and snacks sitting next to the both of you on the picnic blanket. 
The anger you felt from the photo surged throughout your body and without even thinking you swipe the photo off your vanity, tears flowing from your eyes as it crashes to the floor into thousands of pieces. 
You would have hoped that two years after your breakup that you would’ve gotten better and gotten over him, but you fell back into the cycle of shrouding in darkness when a photo of Jongseong appears on your SNS. 
He’s smiling, hair done in the way you liked, in a suit that made him look like a prince, and an arm around the waist of a girl you didn’t know. Your eyes trailed over from his arms, to her waist, to her arm, and then to the ring on her finger. 
It felt like your heart shattered in that moment. Like you were offended and hurt that Jongseong would ever choose another girl over you as if you gave him a choice like you hadn’t made that choice for him. 
More tears well in your eyes as you glance over to Jongseong again. His smile was so beautiful and that was when you realized you had never seen him smile like that when he was with you. He seemed so happy and it hurt even more knowing that he was happy without you. 
But there was no one to blame but you. 
You forced him away and what a waste of a life for Jongseong to never choose happiness. 
You only ever wished that he would be happy. 
Just as long as he’s not happier without you. 
Maybe in another life. When you weren’t so convinced that everyone hated you and that you were deserving of Jongseong’s love. 
Maybe in another life. 
copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved
all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.
the credit for the lyrics used in this piece of writing go to their rightful owners
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thornedswan · 1 year ago
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When your mistrust starts very young, it sure ain't fun
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springseasonie · 9 months ago
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Notice Me | LHC (M)
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Friends to lovers
Summary: You and your friends go to a college party, and tonight is the night where you are finally going to try and catch your crush's attention, who also happens to be one of your good friends. He doesn't think that he thinks of you in that way, but what happens when he sees you with another guy at the party?
Warnings: sexual content, protected sex, auralism, guided masturbation (kinda), sensory deprivation, super vanilla, reader is legally blind (trust it's important 🙏🏾), long haired haechan, violence (minor fight scene), special appearances: Karina and Yunjin
Word count: 7,5k
Song recs: moment by Victoria Monet
A/N: wrote this on a random whim. Def not my best writing but oh well. Hope you guys like it. I will start working on request after this one I promise 🫶🏾 feedback is loved and appreciated
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“Are you guys sure I don't look crazy?” 
“Yes we're sure! Now let's go, we're already 45 minutes late and Mark is yelling at me in my messages!” 
Karina grabbed your hand, pulling you into the frat house followed by your other best friend Yujin. A chill ran down your spine and also your legs, never having this much skin exposed. This was new to you– dressing in skimpy clothes and college parties. But that wasn't the only thing new to you. Having a crush is also very new. 
The only reason you're even here is because of him. Haechan to be exact, who is a part of your friend group. He's the exact opposite of you– loud, cheerful, outgoing. But maybe that's why you like him so much. Opposites attract. 
And that's why you're standing in the middle of the doorway, looking like a deer in headlights in the shortest skirt and tiniest top ever. Tonight was gonna be all about catching his attention. It was going to be about making him look at you like a woman and not a friend. 
You walk through the crowd of people, their bodies constantly smashing yours. The constant bumping makes your glasses slide down your nose, making you fear that you may lose them. Most people think you're being dramatic when you say you can't see without them, but you're as blind as a bat.
Mark and Haechan soon come into view, standing in a circle with their other friends from the basketball team. 
“But don't you guys remember- woah..” Mark turned his head, stopping mid sentence when he saw Karina, and Yujin walking towards them. 
“Hey guys,” Yunjin said excitedly. 
Everyone said their hellos, but you couldn't help but notice the way their eyes lingered on you, all except Haechan. He spared you one glance and one hello before going silent, sipping whatever it was in his cup. You felt yourself die inside, the way he was treating you like an acquaintance all of a sudden. Was it too much? Did you go too far? 
“Sorry were we so late, it takes a long time getting ready,” Karina says, fixing her hair. 
“I'm sure it did.” Mark is still eyeing you like you've said something weird. None of them has ever seen you like this. You're always pretty much covered up. Hoodies and leggings are your daily attire. 
Mark turns his attention to you, scoffing in disbelief. “And look at you, walking in here looking like a sexy Velma.” 
“Oh shut up, she looks good. Right Haechan, doesn't she look good,” Yujin inquires. 
The male glances at you then back to Yujin then at Mark, whose brow is raised waiting for his answer. “You look…nice Y/N.” 
Nice? That's it? “Thanks,” you say, hands glued to your sides. 
Karina sighed, shaking her head at the dry response. “You guys suck at compliments,” she said. “Anyway, let's go get something to drink.” She took a hold of both Yujin and your hands, pulling you to the kitchen. 
Eyes never left your figure since you walked in the building. There were other girls dressed just like you, but for some reason all attention remained on you, and you didn't like it. So used to being a background character in your own life, you'll never get used to attention. 
“God you look hot, we did so good,” Yujin whispered to you, her voice slightly muffled because of the loud music. 
“Do I? He didn't have much of a reaction,” you argued, a frown tugging at your lips. 
“Everyone's been ogling at you all night, even Mark. You definitely look hot,” Karina reassures. “Besides, maybe you'll meet someone else here that you'll like. Haechan doesn't know what he's missing.” 
“Yeah, honestly if he doesn't do anything tonight, you need to move on sister,” Yunjin adds. “Can't keep dwelling on the same guy for 3 years.” 
But you don't want to move on. And if he rejects you, you know that you can't regardless. You'll still like him, because he's a good guy and always has been. There's probably nothing that could make you think anything less. Karina continued to pull you to the kitchen between the bodies when you suddenly bumped your shoulder into someone, causing them to drop something. 
“Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-” 
“It's no problem,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “No big deal. It was just my phone.” 
You didn't even notice you lost the hold of Karina’s hand at this point, your attention being on the man in front of you. “D-did it break? I'll pay for it.” 
“No, it's doing just fine,” he said, placing the phone in his pocket without sparing a glance. He eyed you up and down, his gaze undressing you right in front of him. “What's your name?”
“Y/N,” you answered, gulping slightly out of nervousness. “Yours?” 
“Johnny.” Licking his lips, he narrows his eyes slightly while speaking to you. “You new around here? I've never seen you on campus before.”
“Well, I actually don't go here,” you say, words leaving your mouth a little too fast. “I have a couple of friends that do. They invited me to this party.” 
“Cool,” he said. “Can I… get you a drink?” 
Your eyes widened, a bit taken back by the sudden request, but you didn't disapprove of it at all. Johnny was cute, tall, had a nice voice and seemed like a nice guy. So why not take the offer? “Yeah, sure. That would be great.” 
 -
“Man, he sure is chatting her up,” Mark remarks, watching you and the unknown guy stand and talk while sipping on your drink.
“How can he not? She looks great tonight,” Yunjin comments. “Doesn't she Haechan?” 
Haechan furrows his brows, side eyeing her as he man-spreads on the couch they're all sitting on. “Why me specifically?” 
“Why not?” Yunjin shrugs. 
Haechan rolls his eyes, looking down at his lap trying to focus on anything but the scene in front of him, but he can't help it. You did look good, you looked great. But for some reason he couldn't say it. His stiffness towards you when you came in was because of how different you looked. Haechan wouldn't say he had a crush on you , more so complicated feelings. He didn't yearn for you, but he wouldn't hate it if something sprung from your friendship. 
Haechan knows that his female friends are attractive. Guys always talk about Karina and Yunjin, telling him that he should pursue them or sleep with them, that he's wasting his time being friends. He's never looked at them in that way, but with you it's a different story. You're easy to talk to, and you have lots in common with him. He also loves your glasses. It's something you don't like about yourself, but he thinks they make you look pretty. You've always been pretty to him, probably his exact type on paper. Someone who's smart, calm, a bit of a homebody, true to themselves. 
But disregarding any of that, he didn't have a crush on you. He wasn't into you in that way, despite what everyone else in the friend group thinks. His eyes narrow watching you cross your arms, throwing your head back while laughing at something. “So funny,” he mumbled. 
“You said something,” Yunjin asked. 
“No.”
“Sure… you know, if you like her you should-” 
“I don't like her. We are just friends,” he cuts her off.
Yunjin sighs, making her head. “Haechan you are fooling no one but yourself. I'll let you in on a little secret. Y/N has a crush on you,” she says, hoping that would help him open his eyes. 
Haechan stays silent, expression remaining stoic and straight as he stares directly at the male putting his hand on your hip. That's when he feels a slight sting in his chest. The small ping of jealousy. 
“How would you know that,” he says after a few beats of silence between them. 
“Why do you think she dressed up tonight? God, use your brain.” 
Before Haechan could respond, he watched as someone walked past you, bumping you on the shoulder. He watched as the drink fell out of your hand, almost like a cliche movie. 
The liquid splashed all over the guy’s chest, but he didn't seem too upset. In fact, he looked happy to Haechan, especially when you dabbed the paper towels all over his chest
“God, I am so sorry,” he heard you say panicked. Just as soon as you thought you were done panicking someone else walked beside you, bumping you in the shoulder. You must've been getting bumped all night because your glasses fell. 
“Shit,” you said. You dropped to your knees, feeling around the floor for your frames. “I-Im sorry can you please-”
You look up at Johnny, but you see nothing but a flash in your face. “J-Johnny?”
“God, has anyone ever seen you like this,” he laughed softly. “You're so hot, I could just-”
You heard a loud smack above you, followed by gasp and tons of commotion.
“What the fuck? Who the fuck are you,” you heard Johnny yell. 
“She's looking for her glasses. Aren't you gonna help,” you heard a voice similar to Haechan say. 
Johnny laughed, scoffing at the guy you couldn't see. “Is she your girl or something? You should keep her on a leash before I take her to my place and show her what a good time is.”
“Excuse me,” the other guy grumbled. You were still searching for your glasses, but from what you could tell, a group started to form around the 2 guys and yourself 
 “You heard me. Get your bitch or-”
A loud sound was heard coupled with oh’s and ah’s from the crowd. 
You heard another sound. This time, it sounded like a punch. There was a fight happening, and you were on the ground still looking for your glasses. Just as you reached in another direction on the floor, you felt hands pull your body up. 
“What the fuck was he thinking,” you hear Karina groan. She turned your body, placing your glasses back on your face. For the first time in a minute you can see, and you do not like what you see. 
Haechan and Mark were currently trying to fight Johnny and his two friends. “What is going on? Why is everyone fighting all of a sudden?” 
“Let's just get away from all this, and we'll tell you.”
You were pulled away, Karina and Yujin dragging you outside to the driveway away from the loudness of the party. “So what exactly is going on?” 
“Okay, so basically-” Karina started to speak, but Yujin cut her off quickly. 
“Everyone was watching you and that guy hit it off the whole time, but Haechan looked like he was gonna kill someone. So I said, you know if you like her you should tell her. And he was like I don't like her , we're just friends. Then he saw you trying to clean off that guy's shirt. Then your glasses fell and you got on the ground and-”
“I'm sorry, but what does that have anything to do with what just happened in there,” you say exasperated. 
“Well when your glasses fell and you got down to look for them your-”
“Oh my God.” Karina looked at her phone shocked. You and Yunjin stood next to her to see the screen, and was immediately horrified. 6 different people recorded and took pictures of you looking for your glasses on the floor. Every post had people calling you names ranging from desperate to slut. You didn't realize at the time, but almost your entire ass was out, and your cleavage could be seen clearly. 
“Fuck,” you groaned. “i'm going to kill myself.” You placed your face in your hands, covering the embarrassed expression. 
“Yeah,” Yunjin said, lips pursed right after. “That's what happened.” 
“Why did you guys let me do that” you whined. 
“We were on the couch, surprised. We thought you were trying to seduce the guy, but then we saw him pull his phone out and everything went to hell,” she explains. 
At this point you're pacing the driveway, trying to figure what to do about the party, the post, Johnny, Haechan, everyone. “Well now we have to leave,” you said. “We've been here for less than 2 hours and we have to leave.”
“Okay, well let me call them,” Yujin said. Just as she pulled out her phone, a voice was heard behind her. 
“No need,” Mark said, making his presence known. 
The three of you turned back to see them with their clothes messed up, cuts and bruises on their faces, and tired. 
“Oh my God,” Karina says with her hand over her mouth. “Are you guys okay?” 
“We're fine…well I'm fine. He's a bit..” 
You look over at Haechan who's standing there with his hands in his pockets. You don't know what came over you, but you took a couple of steps towards him, anger filling your mind. 
“Why would you do that,” you said. Your voice startled him, making him look up from the ground. 
“Y/N I-”
“I had no idea what was going on, and you two getting into a fight scares me to death,” you told him. “How did you even get all the cuts on your faces?” 
“Him and his friends had rings and stuff on,” he mumbled, shrugging. “Shit happens.” 
There weren't many times Haechan has seen you upset. The last time you were this mad was when Mark accidentally deleted your essay from your laptop doing his homework. 
“We have to leave right now,” you sighed, arms folded at your chest. “I won't know what to do if you get into another fight and you're already hurt like this.”
Without thinking, your hands reach up to his face, taking his chin between your fingers as you check his face for any other injuries that you can't see. Haechan thought he was crazy when the butterflies erupted in his stomach, but they erupted again when you looked at him with pity, like you cared about him. He hadn't felt that way in a long time. Getting attention from girls came easy to him, but none of the girls he's dealt with made him feel the way you do. 
 “I'll um..I'll get an Uber for us-”
“No I'll get it,” you said. “We're going back to my house, you can't take care of all these by yourself.” 
There it was, more butterflies. 
“We'll go back to Mark’s and help him out,” Karina said, side eyeing Yunjin. 
Yunjin quickly nodded, picking up the message Karina was sending. “Yep! Absolutely! We'll see you tomorrow!” 
“What? I don't need help. I'm a grown man,” he whined. Karina and Yunjin nudged Mark who didn't seem to understand what was going on, making the man look at them confused.
“Grown men don't get into fights at parties,” you snap. “We'll see you guys tomorrow.” 
-
“Wait in the bathroom. I'm going to change super quickly.” You shut your door behind you, locking it before kicking your shoes off. Before walking to your room, you turn to Haechan who looks as stiff as wood. “You look uncomfortable.” 
Haechan watched as you walked away from him, going to your kitchen instead of your room. You grabbed a mug, filling it with water. He's never been so uncomfortable with you, but right now he feels like he could explode. You look so good in your current outfit, the way your hips sway when you walk, the way the shirt hugs your chest. He feels like he shouldn't be looking at you like this, but he feels like he's the only one who should be allowed. 
“Here.” You hand him the mug, looking at him in the eyes like usual. 
Haechan gulps, forcing himself to stop, keeping his eyes on yours and not let the travel any further. “Thanks,” he says, taking it out of your hands. 
“Take your shoes off and relax,” you say. “I'll meet you in the bathroom in 5 minutes.” 
He watches you walk away, holding his breath until you shut the door behind you. “Fuck,” he sighs. The one thing he can't do is get hard standing at your front door. Haechan knows he wouldn't be able to explain that, let alone lie to you about it. The only thing he could do is sit in your bathroom like you asked, and wait for you to put normal clothes on. 
But Haechan is only a man. When you walked into the bathroom with short shorts and a laced lined camisole, the only thing he could do was pray for his presumed innocence. Pray that he didn't make a fool of himself in your house. 
You reached up in your medicine cabinet taking out the pain meds and supplies for his injuries. It took you 10 seconds to get everything out, but for him it felt like 10 years. The way the fabric rose as you lifted your arms, watching you lean your hips on the edge of the counter giving him the smallest piece of your ass to stare at. And the way your nipples poked through the shirt– he was going to pass out right then and there. 
There's nothing Haechan wanted more than to get behind you, feel up on your body. Whatever you were planning for the party worked because now he can't keep his mind off of you, and soon, it'll be his hands. To think you wore that outfit for him, he never would've guessed it. 
“I can change if you need me to,” you said softly, startling him. 
“N-no you don't need to change,” he said, watching you take two pills of pain meds out of the container. 
“Take these.” You handed him the pills, watching him drink them down as you leaned on the counter. Haechan was sitting on the toilet seat, so the sight of him taking deep gulps with his eyes closed was a treat to say the least. You shouldn't be eyeing him like this, but God, was he attractive, even with bruises and cuts. “Are you feeling any better?” 
“Gotta wait for them to kick in first,” he joked, but there was no smile on his face. 
You grabbed an ointment for his bruises, opening it and squeezing some on your fingers. Haechan watched you as you tended to his wounds, concentrating on not trying to hurt him. He loved the way you would bite your lip whenever you were trying to concentrate, he always did. 
The silence was comforting for a while, but then his thoughts got the best of him. Both of you actually. Your chest was in his face, his eyes wouldn't leave yours. The less talking there was, the more sexual tension filled the air, so you needed to get rid of it. But your mouth moves faster than your brain and for some reason, you felt it was the perfect moment to come clean about your intentions with him.
“I have something to confess,” you said softly. 
“What is it?” 
“I wore that outfit for you tonight,” you said, fixing your glasses on your nose bridge. 
He smiled to himself, but you didn't see. “I have something to confess.” 
“Hm,” you hummed. 
“I already knew that.” 
You let out a soft gasp, laughter soon following. “How did you know?” 
“Yunjin,” he said simply. You let out a sigh, shaking your head making him chuckle softly. 
“That girl can't keep a secret to save her life.” You moved on from his bruise, now tending to the scratches on his cheeks. Taking your fingers you apply the cream on the scratches, making him wince. “I only have a little bit left. This is why you shouldn't get in fights Mr. Lee.” 
“Well, I..” he hesitated. “I fought for you.” 
For a second you felt your heart drop. The guy you liked for 3 years fought for you, and you had absolutely nothing to say. “Thank you” was all you could manage. “But…why?” 
“He was…an ass.” Memories of the guy recording you why you were down struck his brain, pissing him off all over again. “He was treating you like some kind of sexual fantasy. And I don't like that.” 
You frowned, remembering that videos and pictures of yourself looking for your glasses are now circulating the Internet. “Yeah…”
“And I didn't like the way he was touching you,” he said, wincing at the feeling of you putting the bandage on. 
“You sound like a protective father,” you joke, trying to lighten the mood. “I appreciate you for defending me, but there's no reason to get hurt while doing it.” 
“But I want to,” he says, making you pause. “Y/N, I think I like you.” 
“I-I..uh..” You wanted so badly to say you liked him too, but now you were nervous. Your face was beating up, fogging your glasses. Be cool, be normal. “T-thanks..” 
“Thanks?” Haechan laughs softly. “That's what I get for fighting.” 
“No, that's not what I meant! I meant-”
“I know what you meant, and it's fine,” he reassured you. “I think I liked you for a long time, just didn't know if you felt the same way.” 
“How long is a long time to you?” 
“A couple months,” he answered. 
You sighed, a slight wave of disappointment filling your chest. “I wanted you for 3 years.” 
Haechan's eyes widened slightly, brows shooting up hearing your words. “3 years? Why didn't you tell me?” 
“Because I'm the kind of girl you befriend, not date,” you answered bitterly. 
“That's not true.” 
“All the girls you like are exactly like you. They're loud, adventurous, cool, hot, wear skimpy clothing,” you argued. “I'm just not your type.” 
“Well that can't be true now, because it seems like you are exactly my type,” he stated. 
“For now.” You started treating his last bit of scratches, scrunching your nose to keep your glasses from slipping again. “Why do you think I wore that outfit? I just wanted you to notice me.” 
“But I noticed you. I do all the time,” he revealed. 
“But it wasn't until tonight which made you realize that,” you added. And with that final comment, you finished tending to his wounds, placing the last bandage on his face. “I'm all done. If you wanna go home, I can-” 
“No,” he said. Haechan placed his hands on the back of your thighs, his soft palms sending lightning through your body. “I'm staying here.” 
You could barely think straight with him touching you, the hold on your legs just getting stronger and stronger, his thumbs pressing into your skin. That's when Haechan kisses up your clothed stomach softly and slowly, making your lashes and heart flutter as you watch him from above. 
“Haechan, stop,” you sigh. “Y-you're not thinking straight.” 
He stands up, his lanky figure looming over yours. You swear you feel dizzy the moment his cologne hits your nose. He pulls you closer, his pelvis on yours. You could feel his hard on sitting right on your aching cunt. 
“I know you feel it,” he whispers. “I know you feel the tension here. And I know you feel how hard I am too.” 
Gulping, you look away from him. This is everything you've fantasized about for the last 3 years, but something is telling you no. Something is telling you it's too good to be true. “Maybe..maybe we should wait.”
Haechan takes your chin in his bruised knuckles, lifting your chin to look at him, but all you can see are his pretty lips hovering over yours. “Are you sure you wanna wait? Because I'm not sure I can hold myself back for even a second.” 
His free hand travels up your leg, his fingertips grazing the heat between your legs ever so slightly, teasing you even more. “You have no idea how pissed it made me feel seeing that guy touch and feel on you, knowing it should've been me.” 
“That's why you fought him?” 
The breathiness of your words almost made him spiral. You were breathing heavily, your chest pressed against his so turned on at every little thing he did. 
“Mhm,” he mumbled. “Seeing you walk around in that tiny skirt knowing I couldn't have you..”
“You have me now..” 
“You're right, I do.” 
Haechan kisses you just as you imagined, soft and with care. He kept kissing you, each kiss making you feel high. His hands left your face and leg, grabbing a hold of your waist. You yelp, feeling your body be lifted onto the end of your sink, legs spread apart as he stands between them. His tongue entered your mouth, the kisses slowing down and lingering a bit. 
Haechan places his hands on your sides, soon traveling to your chest. Hard nipples looking through the fabric, teasing him the whole time he's been in your house can finally be his. Haechan hooks his fingers on the bottom of your shirt, begging to pull it up when you grab his wrist, stopping him. 
You pull away painfully slow, a strong of saliva still connecting your lips only for a second. “Can we go to my room?” 
Haechan said nothing, just backing away from your body and pulling you off the counter. He pulled you to your room, still messy as always. He always loved your house, especially your room. Something about it felt like home. There's always little bits of you scattered throughout your space, whether it be homework, a brush, a mug, or even a sock. It doesn't matter how many times he comes over, it always feels the same. 
But this time it felt a little different. He wasn't going to your room to hang out with the others, he was going to have sex with you. Going to make out with you, to be more than friends with you. This was going to change everything about your relationship with him, but it didn't matter right now. All that mattered was making you feel good. 
Haechan sat on your bed looking up at you, mirroring his previous actions in your bathroom. You were more nervous than ever now with him sitting there expectantly. Fixing your glasses, you placed your hand on his shoulder, climbing on his body to straddle him. 
“Can I take your top off,” his whispered peppering soft kisses down your neck. 
You nod, giving him permission. Haechan hooks his fingers on the hem of your top, lifting the fabric off your body. He feels like he's 16 again, like this is his first time seeing a woman's chest, except it's yours, which is much more important. He starts kissing you slow, his hands naturally finding their way to your chest. You shuddered at the way his cold palms molded your breasts, shaky breaths leaving your mouth and into his every once in a while. 
Haechan started kissing down your jaw, then to your neck, making tilt your head to give him more access. His hands leave your chest for a bit, placing them on your back pulling you closer to his body. Your nipples touch the cold of the print on his graphic tee, stimulating you more while he leaves wet messy kisses all over your skin. 
He kisses lower and lower, lips now pressing against the top of your breast. You look down at him, the most dreamy expression ever when his eyes meet your framed ones. You look so cute in them, but still the sexist person he'd ever seen in glasses. 
You let out a soft moan feeling his tongue swipe against your nipples, the feeling being foreign after being on such a long dry spell. He licks the stiffened peak again, then sucking it while staring up at you. 
“So pretty,” he whispers on your skin. 
You're soaking at this point, his touch and voice bewitching you. Haechan holds you tight, sucking your nipples softly. His eyes hung low, the stare making you squirm. You watched as his brows furrowed hearing your soft whines, his hand gripping the fabric on your hip. He releases your breast from his mouth with a soft pop, the cold air hitting the wet peak making you shiver. 
“Do you think of me when you touch yourself?”
Your eyes dart to his face, glasses slipping down your nose bit by bit. “I..”
Haechan smirks, his soft lips kissing your chest once again while his hands roam your body. “I know you do,” he whispers. “You're the most obvious person I know.” 
Haechan slips his hands to your lower back, his fingers dipping lower and lower into your shorts. He can't help himself, squeezing the flesh in his hands like a stress ball making you push into his palms more. 
“I want you to show me,” he says, words muffled in your neck while he kisses it. 
“S-show you,” you question.
“I want you to show me what you do when you make yourself feel good,” he adds. “Is that okay?” 
You were intoxicated in your home and he's barely touched you yet, but his voice and eyes did something else to you. You needed more. You nodded, lips parting slightly when he takes his hands out your shorts. 
“Stand up.” 
You remove your leg from his side, removing yourself from his lap. Haechan stood up, body so close to yours you could feel the heat emitting off of him. He tugged at the bottom of his shirt, lips curling into a small smile. “Wanna help?” 
You nodded slowly, hands lifting his shirt above his head. His eyes disappeared behind the fabric but once it was off him, they connected with yours once again, making your core clench around nothing. You tossed his shirt on the floor, eyes trailing down his soft but toned body. You've seen him shirtless plenty of times but this was different. This felt different. 
Haechan's gaze lingered on you as he unhooked his belt, the sound of the metal clinging sending a shiver down your spine. He let them fall, showcasing black underwear to you. Haechan leans down, kissing you softly as he steps out of the pool of fabric, groaning in your mouth softly when your chest touches his. 
“Now,” he says softly, pulling away from you. Taking your hand, he pulls you to the side of your bed, climbing onto the mattress. Haechan plops down, leaning his head on your headboard in the dreamiest way possible. “I need those off” – he points to your shorts – “and you right here.” He pays the spot between his legs. 
Your fingers dig into your waistline, hesitating for what feels like an eternity. Your heart was beating rapidly,  with every second feeling like years. Haechan watched you pull the last piece of decency off your body, soaking in every bit of bare skin he laid his eyes on. He needed to feel you, touch you, eat you. But first he wanted to see you. 
Climbing on the bed, he sensed how anxious you were, wrapping his arms around your body once you settled between his legs. And just like that, you were like putty in his hands, immediately melting in his touch letting him run his hands all over your skin, groping at you wherever he liked. 
“Spread those legs for me pretty,” he said into your ear, smiling when you obeyed. His fingertips trail lines in your hips, soon moving down your legs. He could barely control himself, hands moving closer and closer to your soaked core, the actions making you bring your knees together. 
“Shit,” you mumbled, face hot as you witnessed your glasses fog bit by bit. 
“Do you always wear your glasses during sex” he asked, kissing behind your ear softly. 
“Y-yes, why?”
“I want you to take them off for me.” Haechan laughs to himself softly when you sit up, turning to him with a confused expression. 
“But then I-I can't see,” you say, a slight whine in your voice. 
“I'll do that for you.” Haechan removes the frames from your face gently, folding them and placing them on your lamp table. “I want you to focus on how you feel and what I say. Can you do that for me?” 
His milky tone, the way his lips brushed on your earlobe, his soft touch between your thighs. You'd do anything he asks for in a heartbeat. “Y-yes.” 
“Good girl,” he praises. “You know what to do.”
Haechan watched you start rubbing your clit slowly, biting his lip softly. His hands continued rubbing your thighs, soothing you as you leaned into his chest more. You feel his heavy breathing on your back, your lids going heavy once you insert two fingers inside. 
Haechan was rock solid at the point, watching your fingers move in and out of you, the squelch your pussy made being music to his ears. “Fuck,” he mumbles in your ear.
You clench around your fingers to his voice, the breath tickling your ears making you squirm between him. Your eyes are closed, so you don't see the way he's looking beside you, watching the way your face twitches at every feeling or sound. His stomach flips when you gasp at the sudden feeling his hands on your chest, small moans escaping to the added pleasure. 
“I love that sound,” he says, the sound of your pussy getting louder when you finger yourself faster. 
“S-stop,” you stutter. 
“Are you embarrassed,” he chuckles softly, nipping at your ear, not taking his eyes off the scene between your legs. You gulp and nod, a small whine spilling from your lips. 
“God you're so cute.” Haechan removes one hand off your chest, creeping his fingers back between your legs. “Almost as cute as this pretty clit right here.” 
“H-haechan..” 
He started rubbing small, slow circles, your moans increasing in volume. You kept fingering yourself, but you needed more. You needed his cock, his mouth, his pretty hands. The thought of him finger fucking you till you came stimulated you, making your hips move on their own, grinding against his fingers.
“Tell me what you're thinking about.” He had pressure on his fingers making a whine leave you plump lips. “What do you want from me Y/N?” 
“I..I want you Haechan,” you answer breathlessly. “I want you to make me cum.” Your hand pumps your hole faster, wetness coating your fingers running down your hands. His breath tickles your neck as he begins to grind on you. Eyes closed, head falling back on his shoulder, you let your hips move on their own. You're so close, the feeling of his chest rising on your back aiding to the pleasure throughout your body. 
“I want you inside me,” you moan softly, brows furrowing. 
“How bad,” he teased, a smile on his lips. He rubbed your clit faster, starting to feel your legs shaking. Your moans increased, whines and whimpers freely falling from your lips. He knew you were going to cum. 
“So, so bad,” you whispered. “I-Im gonna cum haechan..” 
“Cum for me,” he whispered. “You're so pretty when you cum.” 
You pumped your fingers harder and faster, the sound of your wet hole filling his ears. You came around your fingers, pussy squeezing tight on the digits inside you. Haechan kept rubbing your clit, the feeling of his fingers on the sensitive bud making you shiver on his shoulder. 
“There you go Y/N,” he said softly, his other hand rubbing your thigh. “Let it out. God, you make the prettiest sounds.” 
You pulled your fingers from between your legs, hand resting on your other thigh as you breathed heavily against his body. That's when you feel his hand take yours, bringing it to his mouth. Haechan wrapped his lips around your fingers, sucking your arousal off your fingers. 
“Haechan,” you whined, hanging your head low in embarrassment. He chuckled, taking your face and turning it to him. He kisses you softly, the taste of your own cum on his lips. “I need you so bad,” you mumbled on his lips. 
“Lay down for me okay?” 
You nodded, lifting yourself from his body, allowing him to move from behind you. You reached for your glasses, putting them on, clearing your blurry vision. When you looked back up, Haechan was pulling his underwear off his body, hard on so big, it hit his stomach. 
“Holy fuck,” you mumbled to yourself. He was big. Bigger than you imagined, and it makes you wonder where he was hiding it all this time under his skinny jeans. 
“Staring isn't very polite, you know.” 
His voice broke your thoughts, making your eyes snap back up to his face. Dark locks of hair fell in his eyes, that same teasing grin on his mouth. He looked like a dream– bruises and bangs on his face, knuckles red, but still hot. He crawled onto the bed, yanking your body lower on the bed by your ankles. 
“You have some condoms,” he said, eyes scanning your naked body. 
“I-In my drawer.” You point to your bedside table, eyes following him as he bends over you to open the drawer. You were practically drooling at this point, the thirstiest you've ever been and it was starting to become too real to be true. Haechan takes an unopened packet from the drawer, shutting it right after. Your eyes don't leave him as he sits back up and opens the plastic, a gulp going down your throat in anticipation. 
“If at any point you wanna stop, just let me know,” he says, sliding the condoms on. Haechan watches your facial expressions and body language. You were excited, he could tell. But you were also the most nervous he's ever seen you. “Listen,” he says softly. His fingertips glide on the inner side of your thighs, hands pushing your legs up by the back of your knees. “I want you to look at me the whole time. Can you do that?” 
The softness in the way he spoke felt a bit unfamiliar to you, you immediately softened nodding at his request. “Y-yeah.”
Haechan licks his lips, lining himself with you. A small gasp fell from your lips feeling his tip stretch you open. He pushed himself in a bit more, watching your face slowly contort silently. Haechan held your legs up to your chest, eyes never leaving the view of his dick disappearing between your legs.
“Fuck,” he sighed, the feeling of your tight pussy almost making him cum right then and there. He looks back up at your face, your eyes are closed, head resting on your pillow. Your glasses are crooked due to the position of your head, but it's sexy to him. 
Haechan starts thrusting in you slowly, eyes shut as he moves taking in the feeling. But you keep looking at him. You keep staring at the way the muscles in his arms slightly flex, you stare at the way his chest moves after every deep breath he takes. He must've known you were staring because he opens his eyes, staring at you fucked out face. 
“Youre.. you're so big,” you mumbled, voice shaky from the pleasure. 
Haechan opens his eyes, staring down at you through his bangs as he thrusted deeper. “Keep saying things like that, and you'll boost my ego.” He snaps his hips into yours, his dick reaching further into you. Haechan speeds up his movements, his hands gripping your legs tighter, pushing them closer to your chest. You tried you best to look at him, but with every movement, you felt your vision go blurry with pleasure. Your moans and whimpers filled the room accompanied with his grunts and the sound of the bed. 
Haechan lets go of your legs, letting himself fall onto your body. He held himself up, one hand on your hip and the other holding himself. You let your eyes close for one second, but Haechan is quick to slap your hip, making you open your eyes. You stare at him, raising your hand and fixing your glasses with your brows furrowed at the feeling of him inside you. 
“Don't look away,” he moans softly. “Keep looking at me..keep those eyes on me.” 
And you did, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. Haechan lets out a small hiss feeling you squeeze around him. 
“Faster,” you moaned shakily, breath tickling his nose. Haechan melts when your face twists in pleasure, brows scrunching with every moment. 
“Fuck, right there,” you whimpers, pulling him closer. Haechan kisses you, you both moaning and grunting into each other's mouths. 
“You like this Y/N? You like when I fuck you good,” he groans, on your mouth.
“Yes, yes.” You nod fast, eyes stuck in his as he plows you into the mattress. The sound of your skin colliding, bed creaking, moans filling the air over stimulated you along with his raspy voice, saying the dirtiest things in your ear. 
He reaches up, removing your glasses from your face and throwing them somewhere on your bed. Too fucked out to even respond, you shut your eyes letting him bury his head in your neck, leaving wet kisses all over your skin. 
“I'm so close,” you moaned, legs starting to shake on either side of him. 
“Cum for me,” he grunts. “I want you to cum around my cock right now.” He reaches down between your bodies, fingers rubbing your clit fast. Haechan has had sex a million times, but nothing could compare to the way you felt squeezing around him. The way your moans rose in pitch when you came, the way you said his name. 
“Haechan,” you whispered, nails pressing into the skin on his back. “Oh my God, fuck..”
He kept fucking you into the mattress, chasing his own high right after yours. “Just a little more baby, fuck..”
You opened your eyes, brows furrowed as you watched his body rise, hands grasping your waist tight. His thumbs pressed into your sides, holding your body close to his while he plowed into you. Even blurry, he was a dream to look at. His hair hung in his face, biting his lip as he chased his orgasm. 
But better get, you looked like an angel underneath him. The sweat on your body, your face, hair, sounds. Perfect. His eyes followed your hand, watching them as one went to your nipple and the other went between your legs. 
“Fuck,” he kissed. The tight feeling in his stomach started getting tighter. Haechan’s jaw dropped, brows scrunched as he came, a strangled moan escaping his throat. 
Haechan stopped thrusting, pulling out of you after a couple of seconds. The both of you sat in the silence of heavy breathing, his hands still on your waist. You reached to grab your glasses, finding them on the blanket and putting them on lazily. That's when you look at Haechan, his blushed  cheeks, sweat on his forehead, trying to catch his breath. 
“Are you-”
“Can we-”
Both of you stop and look at each other. The air starts to feel heavy for some reason, the silence giving you time to think about what you were going to say. Can we go on a date?
You gulped at the way his eyes won't stop staring into yours. His lips part, eyes narrowing when he rubs his thumbs on your sides, soothing your very obvious nerves. 
“Say it,” he says softly, 
“Can we… be more than friends?” 
You blinked, Haechan staring at you with a blank expression. Suddenly he began laughing, hanging his head low after you spoke. 
“What,” you questioned, heart sinking into your stomach. 
“Why did you ask me that,” he chuckled, grinning from ear to ear at you question. 
You swallowed, expression hardening at his words. “Did I say something wrong?” 
Haechan noticed the tremble in your words and immediately stopped laughing, realizing that you were very much serious. Haechan leaned down, his body on yours and head in your neck. He kissed your skin softly, one hand holding him up while the other caressed your skin. 
You watch him, feeling yourself melting into his soft touch. His fingertips dragged along your abdomen, sending chills down your spine. “H-haechan,” you said softly. “Answer my question.”
Instead of answering you, he moved from your neck to your lips. He captured you in a soft, sweet kiss, turned deep and passionate. Something about the way he kisses you at the moment feels romantic, as if he's trying to communicate his feelings without speaking, but you need him to say it. You need him to speak to you.
Haechan pulled away from you, his eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. “Did that answer your question,” he said softly. 
You shook your head, making him laugh softly. “Answer.” 
He smiled, licking his lips before speaking. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”
“Well..” you paused before looking  up at him, eyes staring into his soul. The silence felt like an eternity between you both, but it soon disappeared when you spoke. 
“Can you be mine?”
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whatudowhennooneseesyou · 3 months ago
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𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬 (𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 & 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐅𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝)
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Disclaimer: This is for entertainment purposes only and should not be taken seriously. 18+
Methodology: Traditional and Whole Sign
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Placements:
Leo Sun
Cancer Moon
Sagittarius Rising
Virgo Venus (retrograde)
Scorpio Mars
Is He A Fuckboi?
6/10
People who have a Virgo Venus can enjoy having sex without feelings involved so Mingi probably can be a fuckboi but his Cancer Moon would intervene and he would become emotionally dependent on you very quickly.
His Sagittarius/Jupiter influence means he has a high drive like super fucking high he can go all day if he had the opportunity.
So, I feel in his horny moments he could just fuck a random stranger but afterwards or when it's out of his system, he'd probably feel bad or low-key guilty about pursuing sex if there's no 'feelings' involved.
Red Flags:
Mommy Issues! Mingi is a huge Mommy's boy and he's mentioned in the past about how his relationship with his mother is the most important to him.
This is EXTREMELY common in men who have Cancer Moons and they usually grow up with a mother who 'babies' them and have a borderline codependent relationship with their mother.
So you might struggle with being accepted by his family and consistently fight for approval or validation from the women in his family.
Green Flags:
Your No 1 Support Person! You will feel like you haven't experienced as much support and hype energy from your loved ones like the support you'll experience from Mingi.
He will be devoted to you and worship you and do whatever he can in his power to ensure your life is easier and more enjoyable whenever you're with him.
Whilst Mingi is a high-maintenance partner, his presence as a boyfriend would have a healing impact on you and life will fill like a more positive experience when you're with him.
Ideal Type: If He's Into Women (Which I'm Damn Sure He Is)
Personality Traits:
Extroverted!!! He has a 5th House in Aries so he is attracted to women who are loud, outgoing, extroverted and are not afraid to speak up about their needs.
Mingi is someone who's a constant over thinker so he needs a partner who is okay with being upfront about what their needs and expectations are of him, it's why he has a strong friendship with Yunho because Yunho tells him what to do and he does it.
Protective!!! He really is low-key looking for someone who will embody a 'mother' role and ensure he feels safe, protected and cared for all the time.
If you look at heaps of fancalls with Mingi, the ones where you can tell he's invested in the Atiny are the ones who lead the fancall and just basically hype him up and froth over him.
Physical Traits:
Here's the Link to a fancall with an Atiny where he explicitly says 'you're my type' and you can TELL omg he looks like he wants to devour her in those remaining 30 seconds.
A feminine/girly aesthetic with a slight emo/punk twist combined with a masculine attitude is the best way to describe Mingi's type physically.
If you don't want to click the link, he says word for word to the Atiny 'look so amazing, black (he did say that but the Atiny muted it), and dark, and your accessory and outfit is so beautiful...yeah my type'.
The Atiny later revealed she's British and Dominican so the rumours of Mingi being attracted to women who are of a different ethnic background are probably true (a win is a win).
Sub, Switch Or Dom?
Mingi is a switch with a submissive preference and the only member of Ateez who has a submissive preference and would fall into the category of being an obedient and needy/clingy sub.
He has an 8th House Moon and these people are NASTY in the bedroom usually so his partner would have to be open to trying new things.
In a dominant position, Mingi would become a soft/service/pleasure dom and would probably still need a lot of reassurance even if he's taking the lead.
And men with a Scorpio Mars are the type to fuck and love passionately so whilst he's not a degrading/mean lover...he wouldn't necessarily be a gentle lover either because he struggles with verbally expressing his love for you so he's going to ensure you know he loves you in another way.
Which usually manifests in him fucking you so deep your hips bruise, legs are shaky and there's an ache in between your thighs the next day.
Speaking of thighs...
Kinks: (Just A Few)
Ass and Thigh play!!!
Mingi is an arse and thigh guy all the way, he loves seeing your arse jiggle as he fucks you doggy style and leave hand prints all over your cheeks.
Would enjoy a late night lovemaking session where he can hit it from the side and squeeze and play with your thighs as he fills you with his love.
He'd enjoy pulling out and covering your arse with his sticky cum, watching it drizzle down your thighs while he takes a few sneaky pics for his phone collection.
You think he's been a bad boy and want to punish him? It hurts his feelings that he can't fuck you but he'd be more than okay with pushing his dick in between your thighs and just getting off in that way.
And don't think this is just for you no honey, this goes both ways.
You riding his thighs? Using him like a personal toy just to get yourself off? He'd have to force himself from not cumming in his pants with how hard it would make him.
Scratch his thighs, smack his arse, you can low-key bite the meat of his arse and leave a bruise there and he would enjoy it all the same.
You just need to validate him and tell him how good he is, how proud you are of him, how wet he makes you feel.
'Look how wet you made me right now mmmh? You deserve a reward for being such a good princess for me right?'
On a more taboo level, Mingi could also be into kinks like anal, arse play (both giving and receiving), rimming, and I think in the right environment he'd even let you peg him.
Just ensure he receives the most immaculate aftercare, allow him to do the same to you and he'll never leave your side.
He's tied to you for life.
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I won't be publishing anything in September because I'll be writing for Kinktober so pls enjoy this longer post!
It's been a struggle for me to stay motivated on here because my last few posts have flopped with receiving attention and/or interest...considering how long I have been on here.
So adieu until October!
Taglist: @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @gyuhanniescarat @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @hologramhoneymoon @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @berryberrytan @laylasbunbunny @bangchanbabygirlx @i-love-ateez @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @justaaveragereader @ja3hwa @silentreaderthings @daddysspecialdollyworld @abby-grace @wisejudgedragonhairdo @smilefordongil @writhingwrecked @hongthoven @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell
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charlietheepicwriter7 · 1 year ago
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Danny and Damien are twins au, but a slightly redeemed vlad makes Danny the CEO of Vlad Co and DALV and all his other shell companies. Danny is danny, he got pushed into this against his will and is very overwhelmed by CEO duties, so he reaches out to one of his father's sons, Timothy Drake-Wayne, for advice
-------------------
So, danny definitely knows his heritage in this au. He was the spare to Damien's heir, and while their relationship was strained by the constant competition, they still love each other, even when Danny started to show more proficiency in infiltration and subterfuge than assassination. Damien and Danny have a huge fight before Danny leaves, with Damien swearing to never forgive Danny for his betrayal, while Danny is like "what betrayal??? I just cant bring myself to kill someone outside of self-defense??"
(One of the things I hate about Danny and Damien Twin AUs is this depiction that, just because (usually) Danny is unwilling to kill, that makes him weak and a traitor. You think the medical staff in the LoA are assassinating people? Or the lawyers? He's not useless, he's just not good as an assassin)
He was sent to the Fentons at like... seven? eight? to study how the Fentons are purifying lazurus waters from Jack and Maddie, both of whom are partly sponsored by the League of Assassins. He's also learning more about spying from Jack, surprisingly, because no one would expect him of being a top tier spy. He has the occasional mission as a child, but it's mostly shadowing Jack to learn how to spy.
Danny sends letters to both Talia and Damien regarding updates on his training and the Fenton's research, but after a year of no reply from Damien, it's only to Talia. He's feels super hurt by this, and abandoned by the LoA, but the Fentons are kind and familial, and Talia visits once a year. She's unwilling to risk visiting more often, lest she risk getting the JL or the Spiders attention, but sometimes she even manages to visit on his birthday!
(Meanwhile, Talia starts sending birthday assassins to kill Damien so she can spend their birthday with Danyal. She's a really hot and cold mom.
Talia: You can choose me, and have a birthday dinner. Or you can choose your father and have a birthday assassin. You're choice. )
When Slade blows up the LoA, Danyal is given permanent orders to remain as Daniel Fenton until Talia, and only Talia, brings him back to the League. No missions and only one letter every six months. But when Ra's comes back to life and the League is back in power, Talia... never tells Danyal. Because she's seen how happy Damien is being a normal child with their father and wants that for Danyal too. Plus, she wants to continue to have a good relationship one of her children, sue her bruce.
So Danny is completely convinced that the League is mostly gone other than his mother, her zealots, and knows that his brother is living with their father. and he's... relieved. His brother is safe, and his mom told him their grandfather was avenged, so Danny can just enjoy his life. Which he does.
He sends out his six month report days before the portal accident.
Canon stuff happens until Danny is sixteen and Vlad, the fruitloop, steps down as CEO and strong-arms Danny into becoming CEO in his place. Jack and Maddie (who at this point know [or have always known in Jack's case, adn Danny didn't appreciate his dad using his his poker face against him like that] about Phantom) are thrilled.
Vlad is using his "foster son" (Dark Danny, but in this idea, he's Dante Masters) as an excuse as to why he's stepping down, since Dante needs all the attention he can give as a "troubled youth". Danny secretly hopes Dante kills Vlad in his sleep, but signs the papers away.
And there's so much work.
Danny has some idea of what he's doing (Vlad co is a tech company and DALV is weapons manufacturing, plus vlad gave him a crash course on CEOing). Sam and Tuck even help! But he wishes there was someone who could understand the pain of being a CEO while still a teen. But... his father's son, his brother, is one such person. And even though the other would never know, he really wanted to get to know his other siblings. So Danny reaches out for advice to Timothy Drake-Wayne.
Tim is immediately on guard when this Damien clone walks into his office claiming to be the new Vlad Co CEO. The clone acts nothing like Damien, but he still thinks this Danny Fenton is a league plant.
His paranoia doubles when Damien freaks out and confesses that A) Danny is apparently his twin brother and B) that he's been with the League of Assassins this whole time. Damien, who really doesn't want to admit that the reason he forced himself to forget his brother was because said brother didn't want to kill people, says "Tch. I didn't want to associate with the likes of him, so I put him out of my mind." Tim now believes that he's dealing with a master assassin with a huge grudge against Damien and Danyal showing no signs of malicious or aggression in their meetings only convinces him that Danyal is a master actor too.
Which, Danyal is a master actor. But all that other stuff is just Tim reaching.
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dolcettamagica · 7 months ago
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𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲
yandere!nanami x reader
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tags: yandere – extreme possessive and obsessive behaviour, like extreme, cage, angst no comfort, twisted love notes: request by: @superslutny wc: 1.8k
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Nanami sat in his dimly lit apartment, his eyes fixed on the clock ticking away on the wall. Each second felt like an eternity, his mind consumed by thoughts of you. You, his everything, the light that brightened his otherwise dull existence. You were his girlfriend, his confidante, his reason for waking up every morning. But lately, something gnawed at Nanami, something dark and relentless.
Jealousy had always been a shadow lurking in the corners of his mind, but recently it had grown into a raging storm, consuming his every thought. He tried to control it, tried to push it down deep inside, but it clawed its way back, stronger and more insistent than before.
You were the only good thing in Nanami's life, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you. You were beautiful, kind, and fiercely independent. But to Nanami, you were also a prize to be protected at all costs, a possession that he couldn't bear to share with the world.
He would watch you closely, his eyes following your every move, his heart racing with fear at the mere thought of someone else stealing you away. He knew it was irrational, he knew he was being unfair to you, but he couldn't help it. The jealousy consumed him, twisted his thoughts into dark, irrational patterns.
He tried to control it, tried to be the loving boyfriend he knew you deserved, but his efforts were futile. He couldn't help but question your every move, interrogate you about your whereabouts, and demand constant reassurance of your love and fidelity.
You tried to understand, tried to be patient with Nanami, but the constant scrutiny and possessiveness began to wear you down. You felt suffocated, trapped in a relationship that was becoming more suffocating by the day.
One evening, after yet another explosive argument fueled by Nanami’s jealousy, you couldn't take it anymore. With tears in your eyes, you packed your bags and tried to walk out the door.
Nanami couldn’t let you leave.
As you packed your bags, Nanami's anxiety and possessiveness intensified. He couldn't fathom a life without you, couldn't imagine facing the world alone. With each item you placed in your suitcase, his desperation grew, a knot tightening in his chest.
"Please, my love," Nanami pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion. "Don't go. I need you. You're everything to me."
You paused, your eyes filled with a mixture of sympathy and frustration. You knew Nanami loved you deeply, but his jealousy was suffocating you. You longed for space, for freedom from his constant scrutiny and control.
"Kento," you said softly, placing a hand on his trembling shoulder. "I need some time to think. I'll stay tonight, but tomorrow I have to go."
Nanami nodded, his heart sinking with resignation. He knew he couldn't force you to stay, but the thought of you leaving tore him apart inside. He resolved to make the most of your remaining time together, to show you just how much you meant to him.
But as the night wore on, Nanami’s jealousy bubbled to the surface once again. He couldn't shake the feeling that you were slipping away from him, that you were already planning your escape. Every innocent glance at your phone, every moment of silence between you, fueled his paranoia. He can’t let you leave, he won’t let you.
Despite the darkness that now enveloped Nanami's mind, there were moments of light, memories that shone like beacons in the fog of his obsession.
He remembered the first time you met, your eyes locking across a crowded room, a spark igniting between you that would soon blossom into love. He remembered your laughter, the sound of your infectious giggles echoing through the air as you shared inside jokes and silly stories.
He remembered your late-night conversations, the deep, meaningful talks that lasted until the early hours of the morning. You bared your souls to each other, sharing hopes, fears, and dreams with a level of intimacy that Nanami had never known before.
He remembered your walks in the park, hand in hand, the world fading away as you lost yourselves in each other's presence. The warmth of the sun on your faces, the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze—it was in these moments that Nanami felt truly alive, truly loved.
And above all, he remembered the way you looked at him, your eyes filled with a love so pure and unconditional that it took his breath away. In your arms, he found solace from the demons that haunted him, a sense of peace that he had never known before.
Tears welled up in Nanami's eyes as he reached out to you, his fingers brushing against your sleeping form. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you more than anything in this world. Please forgive me."
As you slept peacefully beside him, Nanami's mind churned with a plan born from his darkest impulses. With each breath you took, he felt the weight of his possessiveness pressing down on him, suffocating him with the fear of losing you.
Quietly, Nanami slipped out of bed, his movements deliberate and stealthy. He moved through the apartment like a shadow, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and dread. In the corner of the room, hidden from sight, stood the cage he had meticulously prepared for this moment.
With trembling hands, Nanami approached the cage and swung open the door, the metal hinges creaking softly in the stillness of the night. He returned to the bed where you lay, your form bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, and gently lifted your sleeping body into his arms.
With great care, Nanami carried you to the cage and laid you down inside, your limbs falling limply against the cold metal bars. He fastened the lock with shaking hands, the sound echoing through the room like a final, ominous chord.
The cage stood as a looming testament to Nanami's descent into madness, yet within its confines lay a paradoxical blend of memories and attempts at comfort. 
Constructed from sturdy steel bars, it was large enough for you to move around, to stretch your limbs and turn, yet small enough to serve its purpose—to confine you to Nanami's world, to keep you close at all costs. 
Despite its stark appearance, the cage was not devoid of warmth. Nanami had adorned its interior with small touches meant to evoke the memories you had shared together. A soft blanket, the one you had cuddled under on countless nights, draped over a corner. A stack of books you had read together rested nearby, their pages worn and dog-eared from hours of shared exploration. 
In one corner, Nanami had placed a small photo album, filled with snapshots of your happiest moments—smiling faces, stolen kisses, and adventures captured in frozen time. It was a reminder of the love you had once shared, a testament to the bond that had brought you together.
Despite his actions, Nanami had tried to make the cage as bearable as possible for you. He had stocked it with food and water, enough to sustain you until he could find a way to make things right. He had even left a note, a heartfelt apology penned in shaky handwriting, expressing his love and regret for what he had done.
But no amount of comfort could mask the reality of your captivity, the suffocating weight of Nanami's possessiveness bearing down on you with each passing moment. 
As you began to stir, Nanami stepped back, his heart pounding in his chest. He watched with a mixture of dread and fascination as you slowly woke, confusion clouding your eyes as you realized your predicament.
"What... what's going on?" your voice was barely a whisper, filled with equal parts fear and disbelief.
Nanami approached the cage, his eyes filled with desperation as he tried to explain himself. "I'm sorry, love," he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "I couldn't bear the thought of losing you. I had to do something to keep you with me, to make sure you never leave."
Your eyes widened in horror as the truth of Nanami's actions sank in. You rattled the bars of the cage, your voice rising to a panicked scream as you begged him to let you out.
But Nanmi was lost to his own madness, consumed by his obsessive need to possess you. He watched you from the other side of the cage, his heart torn between love and despair as he realized the depth of his own depravity.
He paced back and forth in front of the cage, his emotions a tempest raging within him. His eyes bore into you, filled with a mixture of desperation and love, as he began to rant, the words pouring out of him like a torrential downpour.
"I love you, darling. God, I love you more than anything in this world," he began, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "I would do anything for you, anything to keep you safe, to protect you from the dangers of this world."
He paused, his chest heaving with the weight of his emotions, before continuing with increasing fervor. "I can't stand the thought of you out there, exposed and vulnerable, surrounded by people who don't understand you like I do. People who don't appreciate you, who don't see you for the incredible person that you are."
Nanami's voice rose to a crescendo as he spoke, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I just want to keep you close, my love. To shelter you from the storms that rage outside these walls, to shield you from the pain and heartache that the world can inflict. Can't you see that everything I've done, everything I've built, it's all for you? Because I love you. Because I need you."
Tears welled up in Nanami's eyes as he spoke, his voice cracking with emotion. "I know I've made mistakes, darling. I know I've hurt you, and I'm sorry. But please, please don't leave me. Don't abandon me to face this world alone. I couldn't bear it. I couldn't survive without you."
He fell silent then, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. He watched you through tear-blurred eyes, his heart laid bare before you, praying with every fiber of his being that you would understand, that you would forgive him, that you would stay.
“This is insane, Kento! This isn’t love!”
And as your cries echoed through the empty apartment, Nanami knew that he had crossed a line from which there could be no return. In locking you away, he had lost not only your love, but his own soul as well.
"I can’t cage my jealousy so I’ll have to just cage you."
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jina-juhi · 8 months ago
Text
Feels like
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you can love again.
Pairing : Johnny × fem!reader
Rating : 18+
warning: smut with plot, protected sex, i tried fluff? fluffy sex? and heart break. and basically all things sex. oh alcoholism. cute sex? plus doggy style plus face sitting:) oral m/f
word count : 4.5k
summary : I could fuck you, right here, right now, but only if you'd ask.
[if you wanna skip to the smut part just go straight down]
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Playlist
all too well, Taylor Swift
you heard me, Heather Sommer
1 step forward, 3 steps back, Olivia rodrigo
graveyard, halsey
right where you left me, taylor swift
wouldn't come back, Trousdale
ghost of you, Selena Gomez
company, Justin Bieber
yours, Raiden
crushing, illenium
begin again, Taylor Swift
feels like, Gracie Abraham
link
When all is said and done, and the person you loved is no longer there, what's left to do? How do you cope when you've given your all, only to find yourself empty, a mere shell of your former self? It's like being left with nothing but bones and muscles, a broken machine barely keeping you going.
So, how do you restart? How do you function when they've taken everything and left you with nothing? How do you shift your mindset to believe that this is all for the better? And most daunting of all, how do you open your heart to love again?
It feels like trying to breathe without air, as if the very essence of life has deserted you, leaving behind a jagged landscape of shattered pieces. It's dangerous to get too close to those sharp edges, so you stand alone and don't let anyone close. Trying to find yourself again.
Stand alone and contemplate what you've gotten yourself into and what you've done to yourself. How could you have ignored the warning signs? They were crystal clear. How could you have not predicted it? Too innocent.
Too gullible to let him in.
Thinking about it now feels pointless. "He was a nice guy, but he was too caught up in himself. He never really saw me. He claimed he did, but I never felt truly understood," you confide while he brews your coffee.
"I never felt loved by him," you add, as he sets the mugs on the counter—one for each of you. It's a chilly evening, and the cafe where he works is quieter than usual. You're a regular here; it feels like a safe haven, a place where you can find comfort in familiarity. You accept your coffee in silence, opting not to say more.
"Take a deep breath," he urges, his voice gentle as he nods, trying to seem strong and supportive. "How?" you reply absentmindedly, staring out the window where the fog thickens by the second. The ache in your heart grows, and despair overwhelms you as you fall back into the familiar trap of negative thoughts.
"He wasn't giving you what you needed. You shouldn't have to beg for love. Believe me when I say it's for the best that he's gone." He says.
"I loved him."
"You did, Maybe you still do, but people change," he interjects gently, his gaze fixed on the coffee between you, his words carefully chosen. "In different ways. You may have promised forever, but forever is a long time. Sometimes you grow together, and sometimes... you grow apart. It's nobody's fault in the end. You just drift away, lose that connection, maybe take each other for granted, and before you know it, the fights start."
His voice falters slightly, betraying the depth of his emotions. "I know it might not make sense right now, but what I'm trying to say is... you deserved more than what he could give you. Trust me, you're better off without him."
You inhale deeply, shaking your head in resignation. Raindrops cascade down the window, distorting the glow of the city lights outside. His words echo in your mind, and as you take another sip of coffee, its comforting aroma envelops you. Yes, he's right. You're undeniably better off without him, yet the ache lingers.
Why does it still hurt, months after the breakup? Why does the pain persist, stubbornly refusing to fade away? Days blur into months, but the heartache remains a constant companion. People change, move on. But the pain always stays. It gets a little better each day. You learn to accept. You learn to love yourself. Yet, just when you think you've moved on, something triggers that familiar ache, dragging you back to square one.
But life doesn't pause for heartache. Despite the pain, the world keeps spinning, and you move forward, one step forward and three steps back, hating, crying, wanting, but never stopping.
~~~
A year and almost a half have passed since then. Things have been getting better. The clouds are clearing up, leaving behind a little less hurt and a lot more clarity. There's a sense of hold, of something stirring within—gratefulness, perhaps, or hope. Or maybe its the sound of a familiar ring at the door. You turn around to see a familiar face, a smile lighting up your face as you recognize Johnny.
"A latte, please," you say as he approaches, his presence bringing a comforting warmth to the room. Johnny nods, his gentle demeanor never faltering as he starts to brew your coffee. Johnny's a gentleman, and a law student. He works part-time in this cafe, not because he's broke or anything. He simply lives the high life. Gym first, then college, and then in the cafe followed by late nights of studying. He's a quiet guy who keeps to himself. Disciplined and courteous. Doesn't really like to waste his time on the things undeserving of his attention.
Your friendship with Johnny began in this very place. You remember it must have been around 10 o'clock at night, you had just split up with your ex. It was a stormy night, It felt like the world was collapsing around you and someone was sucking the breath out of your lungs, alone and broken, you found this cafe nearby. The rain was pouring nonstop, so you decide to take refuge, sitting in the corner, your tears flow with the raindrops tapping against the windowpane.
Jhonny brings you a cup of coffee and a napkin with words of reassurance, "It'll be okay, just hold on."
He saw you when you felt invisible to the world, and he understood you when no one else could. In Johnny, you found not just a friend, but a shimmer of light in your darkest moments.
You still have that note.
Jhonny could hardly fathom the possibility of falling in love, especially with someone as uniquely eccentric as you. Little did he know, his heart had already been quietly captivated by your presence over the passing months. As you walked through that door, disheveled and drenched from the rain, the only word that echoed in his mind was "beautiful." From that moment on, an unspoken longing stirred within him, urging him to reach out and connect with you. He extended that napkin, not just to offer solace, but as a gesture of his desire to understand you, to unravel the mysteries you hide behind those smiles. There was an enigmatic force pulling him toward you, compelling him to take that first step.
You became a regular at the café, grateful for Johnny's caring nature. It seemed like nobody else noticed you like he did. Unintentionally, Johnny had fallen deeply in love with you over the past few months. He paid attention to everything about you - your likes, dislikes, comfort songs, and movies you could watch a 100 times.
He became your confidance, your best friend, always there when you needed him. Watching you cry over someone unworthy filled him with the desire to show you wat true love actually is. Late at night, he found himself thinking about you, wondering if you were okay, if you had eaten, or if you were thinking of him. He felt your sadness as if it were his own and rejoiced in your happiness. But despite his feelings, he couldn't bring himself to confess his love.
Simply put, Johnny wanted you. He wanted to show you what true love was, and that no girl deserved to be treated the way you were, left alone in the middle of nowhere, weeping in the pouring rain. Hearing about your past hurt him, but it also revealed your strength and resilience, which only made him love you more. He wasn't drawn to the roses and smiles you showed the world; he was captivated by the scars and bruises you tried to hide.
The more Johnny got to know you, the deeper he fell.
However, he made a conscious decision to hold back because he didn't want to become a rebound love. Instead, he wished for you to heal from the wounds of your past relationship, to move forward and see him for who he truly was, not just as a replacement for what your ex lacked.
He longed for the day when you would accept him completely, with no remains of the past clouding your judgment. So, he waited patiently, hoping for your heart to mend. Hoping for you to let go. Hoping for you to see him.
Time passed away, six months turned into a year, yet you still struggled to let go completely. Though it was getting better, the ghost of your past still lingered, haunting your thoughts and emotions.
How could you not feel shattered? Johnny was just too good for you, too kind. But when you've been hurt before, love becomes terrifying. Trying to piece things together while pretending to be okay is exhausting. It's hard to focus on anything when you're struggling to keep it together. Knowing you love someone and they love you back, yet being unable to fully embrace it because you're afraid of losing them, of getting hurt again - it's paralyzing.
And then there's the guilt. Even though your past relationship ended a year ago, the promises made still weigh heavily on your conscience. How do you reconcile having Johnny in your thoughts while someone else occupies a part of your heart? It feels unfair to him, but you can't shake the feeling.
How are you supposed to let go and move forward when your heart is still stuck in the past? People say "move on" like it's easy, it's anything but easy. It feels like an impossible task, especially when nobody seems to understand what you're going through.
Except for him. Johnny. He understands.
It's so damn difficult," you thought to yourself, feeling the weight of your emotions. Letting go seemed like the simplest solution, but in reality, it was anything but easy. As Johnny led you towards his flat, the thought lingered at the back of your mind.
He mentioned the party he was hosting with his friends at him appartment, someone got a job or something. The atmosphere inside was luxurious, yet simple. with crimson sofas exuding a regal aura in the soft golden light. The air was filled with the sweet scent of vanilla candles and the sound of champagne being poured, it was cozy.
The gathering was intimate, with only the chosen few invited. Amidst the fancy party, all you could think about was Johnny. You wanted to tell him how you felt, that you'd fallen for him too, about the guilt that shouldn't be feeling. Johnny was the best guy you'd ever met, and you couldn't just let him go because you were scared. Even though your past hasn't been great, you didn't want to hurt him because you knew he loved you too. Since the day you met, he's been there for you. And he still is, always there in every little thing. It feels like you're stuck in between, torn between your feelings for him and the uncertainty.
As Johnny left momentarily, you found yourself walking towards the balcony, away from the small talk and pretense inside, with a bottle of champagne. all you needed was a stunning view of the city's glittering skyscrapers, illuminated by the twinkling lights.
You craved peace of mind, a moment to quiet the storm raging within you. Being around Johnny, even for just an hour, had a profound effect on you, all the thoughts and insecurities on one side, and all the feelings of desire and lust, unlike anything you've ever experienced before.
There was no rush of blood and getting all hot and bothered every time your prior partner looked at you. You would never have felt this shy and nervous in his presence. Yes, there was attraction, but nothing like this, but with Johnny, it is the exact opposite. His mere presence left you weak-kneed and breathless, yearning to surrender to the intoxicating pull between you. He awakens you. He makes you want to succumb to him, give into him.
Yes, you yearn to experience the warmth of love, to be cherished and valued in return. And perhaps, deep down, you crave these feelings from Johnny, who has shown himself to be both kind and breathtakingly amazing. The way he gazes at you speaks volumes about his feelings for you.
It's confusing, isn't it? Frightening even. Because all you've ever known about Love is that it breaks and burns and ends, yet here you are, falling for Johnny despite your fears. It's a terrifying feeling, but there's something about it that makes you want to continue. Makes you want to keep dreaming. But you're afraid to confess your feelings, terrified that you'll only end up hurting Johnny in the process. It's hard to find the words, to admit to yourself, let alone to him, that you're falling for him. But despite the uncertainty and the fear, there's an urge within you, a desire to reach out and claim him for your own. All you want is to grab his face, to feel his lips against yours, and to lose yourself in the sweetness of his embrace.
Hard.
And never let him go. You've been thinking about it, about you. And him. And since, you've been moving on, you've been trying to forget and forgive and embrace and accept. You have come to a conclusion that amidst all the chaos, Johnny was the only one there. And that you have hopelessly fallen in love with him.
~~~
Hey," he says, joining you on the balcony, "you're standing alone?"
"Hey jj," you reply, meeting his gaze.
"You call me 'jj' when you're happy," he remarks, puzzled because your tone isn't cheerful.
"I guess I'm happy, sort of. It's been a while, but it feels good," you admit, looking at him standing beside you. He smiles, his eyes filled with happiness. He's genuinely pleased for you.
"That's great," he says with genuine enthusiasm. "Actually, that's fantastic."
He eyes the glass of alcohol in your hand. "Can I have that glass, though?"
That's great," he says with genuine enthusiasm. "Actually, that's fantastic."
He eyes the glass of alcohol in your hand. "Can I have that glass, though?"
"Nope, I'm having a pretty good time," you say, pulling the glass away from him. He noticed a whole bottle nearby on the floor. "I think you've had enough for the night, darling."
darling.
Even in the dim light, Johnny couldn't miss the blush spreading across your cheeks. He's skilled at noticing your reactions and knows how to tease you.
Trying to steer the conversation away from any awkwardness, you say, "So I was thinking..."
"About?" he interjects playfully, trying to provoke a response.
"Everything that's happened, you know, with my ex, and then with you," you begin, but he interrupts.
"Oh, nothing happened between us, as far as I can remember... unless..." he trails off, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"That's not what I meant," you quickly clarify.
"Okay, okay, just kidding. But I kinda wish you did mean it," he mutters under his breath, a smirk forming on his face.
You feel your thoughts becoming fuzzy as you both dance around the topic. Usually, your brain would shut down any such ideas, but tonight feels different. Instead of being repelled, you feel drawn to him, wanting something you've suppressed for so long.
Despite trying to hold back, you find yourself unable to think of anything else.
As the alcohol courses through your veins, emboldening your desires, you find yourself unable to resist the urge to ask him what has been in your mind for quite a long time, and so you ask "If I were to ask for a kiss, would you kiss me? Right here, right now?"
The intensity in his gaze heightens, his pupils dilating as his demeanor shifts, becoming more serious. "Ask me," he demands, his jaw clenched with anticipation. His eyes linger on your lips before locking onto yours, a silent plea echoing within them.
Overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, you turn away, feeling a rush of emotions flooding your senses. With a deep breath, you struggle to compose yourself, but before you can respond, he chuckles softly. "I knew you didn't have the nerve," he remarks, his tone teasing yet tinged with disappointment. Meeting his gaze once more, you're taken aback by his confidence. As he straightens himself and takes a sip of his drink, his words hang heavily in the air. "I don't know how much longer I can wait for you," he confesses, his voice low and filled with longing, "but if you were to ask me to fuck you right here, right now, I wouldn't even think once." With that declaration, practically deadpanned on your face, he goes inside the flat, leaving you to grapple with your miserable self.
~~~
The night after that seemed to stretch endlessly, a void you couldn't escape. Frustration and regret gnawed at your mind, You turned to more alcohol, a fleeting attempt to numb the pain within, but it only amplified the train of thoughts swirling in your head.
As you sat alone on the balcony, the chilly night air enveloped you, matching the coldness you felt inside. Time lost its meaning, slipping through your fingers as you drowned in a sea of overthinking. Every possible scenario played out in your mind like a relentless storm, each outcome more daunting than the last. What could have happened if you could have just said.
Johnny appears through the doorframe. His presence was unexpected, you thought he was mad yet oddly comforting, a reminder that you weren't completely alone in this chaotic night. "Will you spend the whole night here?" he asked, concern etched in his voice. But you were too lost in your own thoughts to fully grasp his words.
Refusing to retreat from your self-imposed exile, you remained rooted to the spot, the numbness spreading through your limbs. Yet Johnny persisted, his care evident as he gently coaxed you back inside. "It's cold. Come inside, everybody left already," he urged, worry evident in his eyes.
Too weary to resist, you allowed him to guide you indoors, his touch grounding you in reality. As he settled you into his bed, a wave of familiarity washed over you, a stark reminder of the times you'd been here before, always on the edge of leaving. You had been here countless times, yet never truly stayed. But tonight was different. Tonight, you found yourself unable to muster the strength to leave, surrendering to the comfort of his presence, if only for a fleeting moment.
As he guided you to sit on the edge of the bed, you instinctively reached out, clinging to his shirt. "Kiss me," you implored, your gaze locking with his warm brown eyes, overflowing with affection.
His response came with a gentle sigh, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "You're drunk," he stated softly, his voice laced with worry.
"I am, but I can still make sense of it all," you insisted, determination shining through the haze of intoxication.
"We'll talk about it in the morning, okay?" Johnny reassured, his face drawing closer to yours.
"Please," you exhaled, closing your eyes, feeling the weight of your confession pressing down on you. "I know I'm the worst person alive right now but I- I'm just afraid. Please understand. I want you, I do, but it's so scary."
"Shh, it's okay, I know," he murmured, his words a soothing balm to your troubled soul. "I know you're trying."
Foreheads pressed together, your breaths mingled, each exhalation a testament to the vulnerability you shared in that moment. "I'm sorry," you whispered, the weight of your guilt heavy on your heart.
"You don't have to be," he replied, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender gesture of forgiveness. "Look at me."
As you met his gaze once more, his eyes filled with understanding and compassion. "Relax, okay? I'm happy that you opened up about it."
"I'm sorry," you repeated, the words a mantra of remorse.He shook his head gently, his touch comforting. "Let's try sleeping now, shall we? Don't think about it." With his reassurance enveloping you like a warm blanket, you allowed yourself to drift into the embrace of sleep, for the first time with him.
As consciousness reluctantly seeped into your foggy mind, a wave of discomfort washed over you, fueled by the repercussions of last night's poor choices. The harsh glare of morning light pierced through your eyelids, adding to the throbbing ache behind your temples.
Attempting to remove yourself from the confines of the bed proved to be a tough task, your limbs heavy with exhaustion and your head swimming with dizziness. Searching for Johnny's presence beside you, you found only an empty space, adding to the disorientation.
Succumbing to defeat, you surrendered to the comfy embrace of the mattress, sinking into its softness as you lay there, gazing blankly at the ceiling above. Dehydration gnawed at your parched throat. As you drifted in and out of consciousness, the world around you faded into a haze of half-formed thoughts and fleeting sensations. The rhythmic hum of the ceiling fan above served as a lullaby.
In the midst of this surreal feeling, fragments of memories from the night before flickered like distant stars in the night sky. Realization and what-ifs danced at the edges of your mind, their haunting presence a constant reminder of the consequences of your actions.
Yet, amidst the turmoil, there lingered a glimmer of hope, a faint whisper of possibility that perhaps, despite the mistakes of the past, redemption was still within reach. You clung to this fragile thread of optimism, a lifeline in the midst of the storm.
Minutes stretched into hours, the passage of time marked only by the shifting patterns of sunlight filtering through the curtains. And then, as if on cue, the sound of footsteps drew near, with a weary sigh, you opened your eyes to find Johnny standing in the doorway, his expression a mixture of concern and relief. "Hey, you okay?" he asked softly, you nodded sleepily.
As you reluctantly stirred from your sleep, you felt the duvet being tugged away, prompting a sleepy protest. "Erugh, let me sleep," you mumbled, trying to shield yourself from the intruding light.
But his teasing remark about your state of dress snapped you awake, and you jolted up, "You're completely naked," only to realize you were already covered. He pointed out with a playful grin, causing you to blush and scramble for cover.
However, your movements triggered a sharp pain in your head, and you winced, instinctively reaching to soothe it. Before you could fully register the discomfort, another hand joined yours, gently stroking your head. Slowly opening your eyes, you found him sitting close, his concern evident in his gaze.
"Who told you to drink that much? You puked two times," he said softly, his tone filled with worry and care. Giving in to his touch, you leaned into him, finding solace in his presence amidst the pain.
"I... may have overdone it a bit," you admitted sheepishly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude for his concern. He chuckled softly, his fingers continuing to massage your head as you relaxed against him.
"It's okay. Just drink some water and take it easy," he reassured you, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. With a nod, you reached for the glass he held out to you
He's far too good for you. A voice at the back of your head screams at you.
"Johnny..." you say, breaking the silence that hung heavy in the room. His presence alone was enough to make your heart race, but you needed to speak your mind.
He turns to you, his gaze softening as he listens intently. "What is it?" he asks, concern lacing his words.
You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before continuing. "I've been thinking about..." you trail off, unsure of how to articulate the right words.
Johnny reaches out, his hand placing a strand of hair behind your ear,offering silent support. "Go on," he encourages gently.
"I'm sorry," you say, the words heavy with regret. "I know this is complicated, and i am making it even more complicated but I just don't want to hurt you." You could barely manage to say even that.
Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers trail through the loops of your hair, sending shivers down your spine. His hum reverberates through you, a sensual melody that ignites a fire deep within. But then, in an instant, his demeanor shifts, catching you off guard.
His hand tightens around your hair, pulling your head back with a swift, yet gentle force. The sudden change in his touch sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins, heightening your senses to the electrifying proximity between you.
Your eyes meet his, dark and intense, and you find yourself unable to look away. His breath, warm and fruity, fans over your face, stirring something primal within you. In that moment, you're acutely aware of every sensation, every heartbeat, as you surrender to the magnetic pull of desire that envelops you both.
"Can't you see what you do to me?"
Johnny..." you say, your voice barely above a whisper, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming.
He pauses, his eyes locked with yours, waiting for you to continue.
"I... I didn't mean..." you stutter, struggling to find the right words as his grip on your hair loosens.
He chuckles softly, his laughter dancing in the air, easing some of the tension between you. "I know, I know," he reassures you, his tone gentle yet teasing.
"But..." you start, only to be cut off by his next words.
"You talk a lot when you're drunk," he says with a smirk, his fingers tracing light patterns along your skin.
Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, knowing he's right.
"What did I say?" you ask, trying to piece together the fragments of the night before.
His gaze softens, a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes. "That you tend to get... aroused whenever I say your name," he says, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.
You shake your head in denial, but deep down, you know he's right.
He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending tingles of anticipation coursing through your veins.
"Johnny..." you breathe out his name, a mixture of desire and uncertainty swirling in your mind as he hovers above you, his presence consuming your senses.
"Say it," he urges, his voice low and demanding, sending a thrill through your body.
"Johnny, listen to m—" you begin, but he cuts you off with a firm command.
"Say it!" he insists, his intensity leaving no room for argument.
"I want you, for fuck's sake, I want you," you finally admit, your voice tinged with both desire and vulnerability.
Closing your eyes, you release the grip you've been holding onto, allowing yourself to surrender to the overwhelming attraction between you.
You lay back, flattening against the bed, pushing your hair away from your face to meet his gaze head-on. His eyes, dark and intense, never waver from yours, sending a flutter of nerves through your stomach.
"I want you, in every way possible, and it's no secret. I'm just afraid," you confess in a small voice, baring your soul to him.
Johnny's smile is reassuring, his touch gentle as he lays on top of you, ensuring he doesn't overwhelm you with his weight. "Don't be afraid," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. "You'll love me just fine."
In that moment, as you lay entwined with him, all your fears melt away, replaced by a sense of warmth and comfort in his embrace. You know that no matter what lies ahead, you're ready to explore this newfound connection with him by your side.
As Johnny hovers above you, his gaze dark with desire, you feel a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins. His lips brush against yours in a teasing caress, igniting a fire that burns hot and fierce between you.
"I've been waiting for this," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with need as he trails kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.
You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as his hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour with an expert touch that leaves you trembling with desire.
"God, you're so beautiful," he whispers, his breath hot against the skin of your neck as he takes you in, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. You feel his breath against your skin, warm and inviting, as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss.
With each touch, each caress, the tension between you dissolves, replaced by an electric current of desire that pulses through your veins. His hands roam your body, mapping every curve and contour with a reverence that leaves you breathless.
You arch into his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips as he explores every inch of your skin with a delicate touch that sets your senses ablaze. His fingers trace patterns along your spine, sending shivers of pleasure racing down your spine.
Your lips collided with his in a heated embrace, sending shockwaves of desire coursing through both of your bodies. Crashing into each other, feelings of desire over powering you both. In that moment you knew, it was gonna be a hell of a ride and you couldn't be any more excited than you are right now.
After the kiss, you both laid side by side, "By the way you didn't really say any of that." Johnny gently whispers in your ear, and you both end up laughing, cuddling.
~~~
You like it?" Johnny asks, his eyes sparkling with warmth as he watches you take a lick of the ice cream. You nod enthusiastically, a wide smile spreading across your face like a child on Christmas morning. His smile widens in response, a soft glow of happiness emanating from him. It's moments like these that make everything feel so right.
Since that unforgettable day when you poured your heart out to him, your life has been like a dream come true. Flowers, date nights, chocolates – you name it, he's made sure to fill your days with joy and love. From cozy movie nights to endless cuddles, it's like you've found the missing piece to your puzzle.
But it's not all sunshine and rainbows. Like any couple, you have your disagreements. Yet, what sets you apart is the unwavering understanding and support you both offer each other. Johnny never lets you go to bed upset, always there with reassurance and kisses to mend any hurt feelings.
He constantly reminds you that you're doing just fine, and it's true. It's not just about healing from past wounds; it's about the beautiful exchange of giving and receiving love. It's about reciprocating the care and affection you both share, knowing that the more you give, the more you receive.
In a world where it's easy to become complacent, you both choose to love each other every single day. And that, in itself, is the greatest gift of all.
You plead with puppy dog eyes, urging him to let you indulge in more ice cream because, well, why not? 'Pleeease let me have another scoop!' you whine, the anticipation of the creamy goodness making your mouth water. But alas, he declines with a chuckle, warning, 'No way! You'll catch a cold!' You pout, but secretly admire his concern."
Disappointed but not defeated, you pout and playfully stick out your bottom lip, giving Johnny your best puppy-dog eyes. "But Johnny," you protest, "I promise I'll bundle up extra warm tonight! Pretty please?"
Johnny can't help but laugh at your antics, finding your determination to get that extra scoop of ice cream utterly endearing. He shakes his head, still chuckling, and gently takes your hand in his. "As much as I love seeing that adorable pout of yours, I can't risk you getting sick, [Reader]. How about we save the ice cream for tomorrow, hmm?"
You sigh dramatically, but a mischievous glint dances in your eyes as you lean in closer to him. "Fine," you concede, "but only if you promise to share a warm blanket and snuggle with me tonight."
A grin spreads across Johnny's face as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Deal," he agrees, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Anything for you, my love."
As you both leave the ice cream parlor, the cool evening air wraps around you, the gentle breeze a welcome contrast to the warmth of your intertwined hands. As you both step into the cozy cafe, the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, bringing back memories of the first time you met. Johnny's hand tightens around yours, his touch sending a thrill through you that's impossible to ignore.
You find a secluded booth in the corner, and as you settle in, Johnny's eyes lock with yours, a silent invitation sparking between you. "You know," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, "this place holds a lot of memories for us."
You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. "It feels like just yesterday that we were sitting here, nervously sipping our coffees," you reply, your voice filled with affection.
Johnny leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "But this time," he whispers, "we don't have to be nervous." A shiver runs down your spine at his words, and you meet his gaze with a newfound sense of boldness. "No, this time," you say, your voice steady and sure, "we can just be us."
With a gentle touch, Johnny cups your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away. "I like the sound of that," he murmurs, his lips hovering just inches from yours.
Before you can respond, his lips capture yours in a passionate kiss, the world around you fading away as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment. It's a dance of tongues and teeth, of whispered words and soft sighs, each touch igniting a fire that burns hotter with every passing second.
As you finally pull away, breathless and flushed, Johnny's eyes meet yours with a hunger that mirrors your own. "I never want to stop kissing you," he confesses, his voice thick with desire.
A smile tugs at your lips as you lean in to press another kiss to his, the promise of countless more moments like this hanging in the air between you.
~~~
As you sit at your desk, textbooks spread out before you and notes scattered across the surface, you're fully immersed in your study session. The material is dense, and you're determined to grasp every concept before the upcoming exam.
Just as you're deep in concentration, Johnny enters the room with a mischievous grin, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you buried in your books. Without a word, he crosses the room and leans against your desk, his presence a distraction you can't ignore.
"Hey there, studious one," he says, his voice low and playful. "Need a break?"
You look up from your books, torn between the desire to keep studying and the temptation of Johnny's irresistible charm. "I really should finish this chapter," you reply, trying to sound firm despite the flutter in your stomach at his proximity.
But Johnny has other plans. With a swift movement, he slides your textbooks aside and pulls you to your feet, his hands finding their way to your waist as he draws you close. "I think you've earned a reward for all that hard work," he murmurs, his lips dangerously close to yours.
Before you can protest, Johnny's mouth descends on yours in a fiery kiss, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips before delving deeper, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you both. Lost in the heat of the moment, you abandon all thoughts of studying as you melt into his embrace, the world around you fading away until there's nothing left but the two of you and the intoxicating rush of desire.
Minutes, or maybe hours, pass in a blur of tangled limbs and heated kisses, until finally, you break apart, breathless and flushed, the taste of Johnny still lingering on your lips. "Now that's what I call a study break," he says with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
You can't help but laugh, the tension of the study session now a distant memory as you bask in the warmth of Johnny's love and the thrill of his touch.
~~~
As you made your way back from college, the skies darkened, and before you knew it, a heavy downpour unleashed its fury upon you. The rain hammered down relentlessly, soaking you up and down. Despite the continuous ringing of your phone from within your backpack, the rain made it impossible to retrieve. With no umbrella in hand, you quickened your pace towards the bus stop, only to witness the last bus pulling away just as you rounded the corner. Desperation set in as you attempted to sprint after it, but the distance between you and the departing vehicle only widened. Defeated, you exhaled heavily, feeling the chill of the rain seeping into your bones. Seeking refuge at the bus stop, you huddled under its shelter, which wasn't helping much.
As you stood there, shivering and dripping, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease creeping over you. The relentless rain seemed to whisper secrets in the wind. With each passing moment, your mind raced with thoughts of your worried boyfriend waiting at home, unaware of your predicament.
As you glanced down at your phone, the screen illuminated with missed calls and frantic messages from him. Frustration bubbled within you, knowing that you were only adding to his worry by being stranded in the storm. You tried to call him back, but the signal was weak, and the connection kept cutting out. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as you waited for the next bus, the minutes ticking by like hours.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the bus appeared on the horizon, its headlights piercing through the darkness like a beacon of hope. With a sigh of relief, you boarded the bus, grateful for the warmth and safety it offered. And soon you were standing in front of his appointment door.
As the bus finally pulled up to a stop, you hurriedly disembarked, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and relief. You practically sprinted the rest of the way home, the rain still coming down in sheets, soaking you to the bone.
Finally, you arrived at the doorstep of your apartment, soaked and shivering. With trembling hands, you fumbled for your keys, desperate to be inside the safety of your home. But before you could even insert the key into the lock, the door swung open, revealing a worried and furious Johnny.
"Where have you been?!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with anger and concern. "I've been trying to call you for hours! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"
"I-I'm so sorry, Johnny," you stammered, tears mixing with the rain on your cheeks. "I got caught in the storm, and I missed the bus, and...and I couldn't get through to you. I'm so sorry."
Johnny's expression softened as he took in your trembling form, his anger melting away in an instant. Without a word, he pulled you into a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I'm just glad you're safe," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I was so worried about you. Let's get you inside and warm you up, okay?"
You nod, feeling the weight of your backpack against the wall as you follow Johnny into the bedroom. With a quick movement, you pull your hair up, hoping to keep it from sticking to your clothes. Sensing his hands on your torso, you inhale sharply as they glide around to the front, undoing the button of your jeans. Anticipation mounts as he pulls them down, and then he sits, planting kisses on your damp thigh, eliciting a dissatisfied moan from you.
In a swift motion, your undies join the jeans on the floor. "Nice butt," he remarks, drawing a rhetorical look from you. Stepping closer, he removes the t-shirt clinging uncomfortably to your skin, and with it, your bra disappears too. "Beautiful as always," he murmurs, enveloping you in a warm towel and pulling you close, his lips finding your neck, leaving their mark.
"Johnny," you sigh as his hands slip under the towel, teasingly moving between your legs, knowing just where to stop, leaving you breathless. "I'll be right back, change into dry clothes, okay?" he says, his voice a tantalizing promise hanging in the air.
He returned with a steaming mug of tea, fragrant steam curling upwards in the air. He handed it to you with a tender smile, the warmth of the mug seeping into your chilled fingers.
"Here, drink this," he said softly, his voice soothing.. "It'll help warm you up."
"I only need you to warm me up."
"Come here then." He motions you to sit with him in the bed he made, warm and cozy. As you lay there in Johnny's arms, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you like a warm embrace, you couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you.
"Johnny," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "I'm so sorry for worrying you. I never meant to cause you so much distress."
Johnny's arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer to him as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "It's okay, sweetheart," he whispered back, his voice filled with reassurance. "I was just so scared when I couldn't reach you. All I could think about was making sure you were safe."
You buried your face against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing lullaby against your ear. "I promise I'll be more careful from now on," you vowed, your words muffled against his skin. "I never want to put you through that kind of worry again."
Johnny tilted your chin up gently, his eyes locking with yours in a tender gaze. "I know you will," he said softly, his thumb brushing away the tears that had pooled in your eyes. "And I'll always be here for you, no matter what."
With a contented sigh, you snuggled closer to him, reveling in the warmth and comfort of his embrace. Johnny's fingers danced along the buttons of your blouse, a spark of desire ignited between you, fueling the passion that simmered just beneath the surface.
"How about we finish what we started earlier?"
Your heart raced at his words, the anticipation building with every breath. With a smile, you nodded in agreement, your own desire mirrored in your eyes as you leaned in to meet his lips in a fiery kiss.
The heat between you intensified quickly, passion igniting like a wildfire as your bodies melded together in a tangle of desire. Teeth clashed against each other, tongues danced in a feverish rhythm, and hands roamed eagerly, seeking out every inch of skin they could find.
With a swift movement, you straddled Johnny, taking control of the moment as you traced a path of kisses down his neck, relishing in the soft gasps and low growls that escaped his lips. As his shirt fell away, revealing his beautifully toned body beneath, you couldn't help but admire the sight before you, feeling a surge of desire coursing through your veins.
Too shy to say anything, you let your actions speak for you. Lingering on his nipples, you teased and tantalized, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from Johnny's lips. With each flick of your tongue and gentle nip of your teeth, the tension between you grew, pushing you both closer and closer to the edge of desire.
But you weren't done yet. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you continued your exploration, trailing kisses and caresses down Johnny's torso until you reached the waistband of his jeans. With practiced hands, you teased and toyed with him through the fabric, making him harder with every stroke, relishing in the way he squirmed beneath your touch.
As his pleasured groans filled the air, you couldn't resist escalating your actions, eagerly sliding his pants down while he sat up, fixated on your every move. Locking eyes with him, you took him into your mouth, teasingly tracing the tip with your tongue, prompting a soft curse from his lips. Pulling back, you continued to lavish attention on him, savoring every moment as you licked his length, stealing glances up at him. "Enjoying yourself?" you teased, to which he responded with an enthusiastic nod.
Returning to him, you gradually took more of him into your mouth, relishing in the way his hands urged you on, guiding you further down. He pulled you up for a heated kiss, expressing his desire to explore your taste. As his lips trailed down your neck, he urged you to sit on his face, igniting nerves and excitement within you. With his encouragement, you straddled his eager mouth, blushing at his sweet words as his lips planted kisses on your thighs.
Feeling his hands on your hips, he drew you closer, his tongue eagerly finding your clit, eliciting moans of pleasure from you. As his hands explored your body, adding to your arousal, you couldn't help but cry out in bliss as he skillfully pleasured you,
As your pleasure surged, you couldn't contain your cries, feeling the intensity of his actions. "Oh, fuck," escaped your lips as he intensified his efforts, his mouth and tongue working fervently on your clit. His suction grew stronger, his tongue moving with increasing speed, drawing out guttural moans from you. "Oh my god," you exclaimed as the waves of your orgasm crashed over you, "fuck," you moaned as he persisted in his ministrations.
His hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer, he delved deeper into your core, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "Oh god, don't stop," you gasped, your breath ragged as you requested his fingers. With a calm demeanor, he complied, easing his fingers into you, eliciting a blissful moan from your lips. As he continued to pleasure you, his fingers moving rhythmically inside you, your cries of ecstasy filled the room.
"Oh my god," you moaned aloud as he momentarily paused, only to reposition himself behind you. Bending you slightly, he inserted two fingers, drawing out a soft, pleasurable moan from you. With relentless determination, he showed no mercy, driving you towards another peak of pleasure. The sound of slick noises filled the air as his fingers worked expertly within you, pushing your head gently into the headboard to ensure your stability as you surrendered to his touch.
As his hand pressed you down onto his fingers, a fervent moan escaped your lips, the sensation overwhelming you. "Oh my god," you cried out as he intensified his movements, driving you wild with desire. With increasing speed and force, his fingers plunged into you, eliciting a chorus of ecstatic moans from your lips.
Suddenly, he withdrew his fingers, his command clear. "Turn around," he instructed, guiding you gently as you complied, meeting his intense gaze. Enveloped in his embrace, you shared a deep, passionate kiss, his desire evident in his words as he broke the connection. "I want to fuck you," he declared, and you eagerly nodded in agreement, urgency coursing through your veins.
Pushed onto the bed, your legs spread wide, you watched as he knelt between them, his eyes fixated on your dripping arousal. His finger traced circles on your swollen clit, then slipped inside you, claiming you as his own. "Mine," he whispered, his gaze never wavering from yours, and you nodded in submission, a smile playing on your lips. "I'm yours," you affirmed, anticipation building in the air.
With a hungry look, he licked his lips before slowly entering you with his cock, causing you to gasp in ecstasy. "Oh my god," you moaned loudly as he began to move within you, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to the brink of pleasure.
As he increased the pace, driving into you with fervent desire, your cries of ecstasy filled the room. "Oh my god," you moaned loudly as he relentlessly fucked you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. Leaning down, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss, his declaration of love mingling with the sounds of your pleasure. "I love you," he murmured against your lips, his words igniting a fire within you.
Wrapping your legs around his waist, you reciprocated his declaration, your voice filled with desire. "I love you too," you confessed as he continued to ravish you with his relentless thrusts. With a swift motion, he withdrew from you, flipping you onto your stomach. "Get on all fours," he commanded, assisting you into position.
Meeting his gaze over your shoulder, you were met with a declaration of your beauty, sending shivers down your spine. As he entered you from behind, a rush of anticipation flooded your senses. His movements became more intense, driving into you harder and faster, eliciting moans of pleasure from your lips. "Oh my god," you cried out, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body.
Feeling his hand reach around to play with your clit, a surge of pleasure washed over you, intensifying the pleasure building within. "Oh my god," you moaned again, lost in the ecstasy of his touch. With each deep thrust, you felt yourself teetering on the edge, your body aching for release.
As he took control, holding both your hands behind your back, you surrendered to him completely. Your petite frame under his dominance, your face buried into the sheets muffling the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips. Sensing his impending release, you knew you were on the brink of ecstasy.
With a few final, deep thrusts, you both succumbed to the ecstasy, waves of pleasure washing over you in a euphoric crescendo. As he pulled out, licking you clean, you whimpered from the overstimulation, your body trembling with aftershocks of pleasure.
a sense of blissful exhaustion washed over you both. Lying tangled together under the sheet, hearts racing and skin still tingling from the intensity of your lovemaking. As you caught your breath, he peppered soft kisses along your neck and shoulders, his touch gentle and tender. "You're incredible," he whispered, his voice filled with adoration as he caressed your cheek. You smiled up at him. In his arms, you feel safe and cherished, the weight of the world melting away as sleep begins to claim you. Drifting off with the rhythmic beat of his heart as your lullaby, you rest easy knowing that you are safe. And you finally know, what love actually feels like
~~~
hope you liked it. umh? idk tried, if you want to request anything, please do. (it'll take forever but ill respond)
please check out other works m.list
and enjoy, have a good day, night~
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kokoch4n3l · 5 months ago
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'•.¸♡BUY ME THE MOON࿐ྂ SANO "MIKEY" MANJIRO x f!READER
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THREE — skeletons in the closet
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chapter summary: like your father, manjiro becomes increasingly obsessed with keeping you hidden and begins tightening the already overwhelming security
chapter warnings: dark content 18+, inaccurate depiction of politics and political climate, loneliness, making out, kissing, rough sex, vaginal penetration, degradation, humiliation, spanking, fantasizing, creampie, no aftercare, cheating, infidelity, dom/sub undertones, slight choking, soft dom!mikey, guided masturbation, fingering(f), praise kink, (slight)voyeurism, aftercare
word count: 9848
masterlist | previous | chapter 4
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You spend the month alone. You go to school, come home, eat, do your school work, sleep then do it all again. The routine was something you were used to but perhaps after that night with Manjiro, things kind of changed— unfortunately, it was for the worst. You've been feeling more lonely than usual. Manjiro doesn't come around but ever since then, you noticed the increase in guards outside the mansion in the woods and the hidden ones in the background(perhaps next time you see them, you should tell either your father or Manjiro that the hidden guards weren't so hidden).
The days blur together as you fall into the monotony of your routine. The loneliness you feel has deepened since that night with Manjiro, and his absence weighs heavily on you. You had hoped for more after the tenderness he showed, but instead, you're left with an emptiness that seems to grow with each passing day. You feel like a damn idiot.
Of course, you could call him. You could have but you have too much pride. He was the one who left you in your room after that whole fiasco in the back seat of his car(which you can't stop thinking about actually). After you fell asleep in the backseat with him, he probably carried you up to your room and left without leaving a note or even a text— so why should you call him first?
Days turn into weeks, and the ache of loneliness gnaws at you, a constant reminder of the void Manjiro's absence has left behind. You throw yourself into your schoolwork, trying to drown out the lingering thoughts of that night, but every quiet moment brings them rushing back. You can't shake the memory of his touch, the way he looked at you, the brief tenderness that seemed so out of character for him.
Your pride keeps you from reaching out. You tell yourself that if he wanted to see you, he would have found a way. Yet, every day without a word from him feels like a rejection, a confirmation that maybe you were just a fleeting distraction for him. After all, you were a part of an unnamed transaction between him and his father. Sano Manjiro spent a lot of money funding your father's election and having you out in the open now that your father is president is a risk. If people find out your father was a cheater and had a secret kid it wouldn't look good. 
The days continue to pass in a blur of sameness, each one bleeding into the next as you navigate the familiar corridors of your daily life. The loneliness gnaws at you, a persistent ache that refuses to be ignored. You miss the fleeting moments of connection you shared with Manjiro, the way he made you feel seen and cared for, even if only for a short time. But his absence speaks volumes, and the silence only amplifies your feelings of isolation.
Despite the guards and the watchful eyes that you now notice more keenly, your life remains eerily quiet. The increased security is a constant reminder of the world Manjiro operates in, a world you are only beginning to understand. It's as if his presence lingers in the shadows, a ghost that haunts your every step.
One evening, as you sit in your room, staring blankly at your homework, you find yourself wondering if you should swallow your pride and reach out to him. The thought is both tempting and infuriating. Why should you be the one to make the first move? He was the one who left you hanging, left you to fend for yourself in this lonely existence. Your phone sits on your desk, taunting you with its silence. You pick it up, scrolling through your contacts until you find his name. Your finger hovers over the call button, your heart pounding in your chest. But the fear of rejection, the fear of appearing desperate, holds you back. With a frustrated sigh, you toss the phone aside, resolving once again to bury your feelings and carry on.
That night, sleep eludes you. You toss and turn, your mind replaying every detail of that night with Manjiro. The feel of his hands, the sound of his voice, the intensity in his eyes—it all comes rushing back, refusing to let you rest.
A few more days pass after that and now it's 6 pm. You're sitting in the back seat of a Lexus with your usual driver in the front seat as he drives you back from university. Your tote back sits idle in the center seat and your phone is in your lap as you blast music from your headphones. Your fingers fiddle with the lace at the end of your skirt, head resting against the glass as the car speeds past trees and other things. 
As the car glides through the familiar streets, your thoughts drift back to Manjiro once again, his absence a constant ache in your heart. You find yourself staring out the window, lost in memories of that night, replaying every moment in your mind like a broken record. The music blaring in your headphones does little to drown out the noise of your thoughts, the lyrics blending together in a cacophony of sound. You feel restless, trapped in a cycle of longing and frustration that seems to have no end in sight.
The car turns into the clearing where your large mansion in the woods was located and the gate opens up. There are multiple cars in the front which means your father was here. You fiddle with the Viviene Westwood necklace Manjiro gifted you as your driver parks the car in front of the entrance and pause your music, removing your headphones . "looks like your father is here" Your driver says, looking at you through the rearview mirror
You don't say anything and just nod your head. You suddenly don't feel like seeing or talking to your dad even though you have been waiting for him to come home all month since he became president. Your driver opens the door for you, and you step out of the car, your movements slow unlike how you usually are when your father comes to visit. You practically drag yourself out of the car, tote bag in hand. Your heels click against the concrete as you make your way up the steps to the large front doors. Wearing heels to university would seem unnecessary and stupid to other people but you were a rich kid doing fashion design as a major. Everyone in your department dressed up all pretty even for early morning classes. It was fun. You liked dressing up. Where else are you going to wear all your expensive clothes? You were at home most of the time and wore pyjamas so you always went all out when you'd leave your mansion in the woods. "good afternoon, [y/n], how was school?" One of the maids asks as she opens the front door and takes your tote bag from your hands
"It was fine" You mutter as you step inside and immediately tug off your heels
Sure they were nice to wear but after wearing them for hours straight, your feet would start to hurt. You sigh in relief as your feet touch the cool marble floor, feeling a momentary sense of comfort. The familiar scent of the mansion fills your nostrils—lavender and sandalwood, with a hint of something floral. Despite the opulence surrounding you, the loneliness within feels overwhelming. The quiet hum of activity in the house, with maids bustling and guards stationed discreetly, only accentuates your solitude. "Your father is here with Ms. Kaya and a few other guests in his study" The maid informs
You just nod. You don't feel like going to see him right now. Not him or your stupid step-sister and certainly not whatever guests were here. You drag your feet up the grand staircase, the weight of your loneliness pressing down on you with each step. The mansion feels emptier than ever, despite the presence of staff and guards. You make your way to your room, seeking solace in the one place that feels somewhat like your own. Just as your hand touches the doorknob to your bedroom, a voice startles you "Hey, fairy princess"
You jump, turning around quickly and see the same pink-haired guy, Sanzu, from 1 month ago. He was the guy driving if you remember correctly. You would have been nice but right now you are annoyed and tired so you say "What are you doing in my house?"
Sanzu's grin widens at your reaction, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Relax, princess," he says, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just here on business."
You scowl, your patience wearing thin. "What kind of business?"
"Manjiro's kind," he replies cryptically, his grin never faltering.
At the mention of Manjiro's name, your heart skips a beat. You however don't want to make it seem to this clearly crazy motherfucker that you missed his boss. So, crossing your arms over your chest you ask "Why are you bothering me then?"
Sanzu simply shrugs and replies "'m bored and you look like fun"
You're about to say something but someone else shows up. "the idiot is right for once. You look do like fun"
This other guy, you remember from a month ago from the night of the election. He's got purple hair with a few black highlights, styled in a very similar way to Sanzu. This purple-haired guy had a hanafuda tattoo on the front of his throat. "oh fuck off Rindo" Sanzu says looking annoyed, rolling his sleeves up "I was here first"
You see a matching tattoo on Sanzu's right inner wrist. "shut up man, you know I hate the whole business bullshit" the purple-haired guy, Rindo, says to Sanzu
The exchange between the two men leaves you feeling more exhausted than before. You try to mask your irritation as you take a deep breath, your eyes narrowing slightly as you address both of them. "Well, whatever business you're here for, I'm not interested. I've had a long day, and I just want some peace and quiet."
Sanzu's grin only widens, clearly enjoying your frustration. "Oh, come on, princess. Don't be like that. We're just here to have a little fun."
You turn to enter your room and hope these idiots don't follow you inside. Unfortunately for you, they do. It was a little odd though. You've never had someone outright ignore your wishes. It was kind of... Exciting. "what are you, a fuckin' princess?" Rindo mutters as he looks around your room after closing the large door behind him
Your bedroom looked like something out of a princess movie. An unnecessarily large bed in an even more unnecessarily large room. Your sheets were cream-coloured and baby pink. Canopies were hung up around your bed and you had one too many pillows but you swear you needed all of them. You had fluffy white carpets, a vanity, a walk-in closet, your own attached bathroom and a balcony. "Yes" You answer Rindo's rhetorical question anyway
Sanzu chuckles as he watches you, clearly amused by your answer. He saunters over to your vanity, picking up one of your perfumes and inspecting it with a curious expression. "Nice place you got here, princess. Real fancy."
You frown, feeling your irritation grow. But you don't say anything and just sit on the edge of your bed, watching them look around your room in fascination. Rindo smirks, leaning against your dresser as he surveys the room. "You know, most people would kill for a setup like this," he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But you? You look like you'd rather be anywhere else."
Sanzu, now fiddling with a decorative trinket on your vanity, chimes in. "Yeah, what's the matter, princess? All this luxury not enough to keep you entertained?"
You shoot them both a withering look. You don't wanna tell them that you're lonely. After all, it's a very embarrassing thing to admit. Instead, you say "I dunno... It's not that. Just never had anyone in my room before"
Your words hang in the air, creating a brief silence as both Sanzu and Rindo process what you just said. Rindo's smirk fades slightly, replaced by a more thoughtful expression. Sanzu, on the other hand, raises an eyebrow, his amusement giving way to curiosity. "Never had anyone in your room before, huh?" Sanzu repeats, his tone losing some of its teasing edge. 
He sets the trinket back down on your vanity, his gaze shifting back to you. "That's kind of hard to believe, princess."
Rindo pushes himself off your dresser and walks closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Is that why you looked so miserable earlier? All this luxury and no one to share it with?"
You swallow hard, feeling the weight of their scrutiny. You're not sure how to respond, but the truth is evident in your silence. They might be annoying, but they've hit a nerve you can't quite ignore. Sanzu takes a step closer, his playful demeanour giving way to something more sincere. "You know, if you're that lonely, you could always come hang out with us. We might not be your usual company, but we know how to have a good time."
Rindo nods in agreement, his earlier sarcasm replaced by a surprising note of camaraderie. "Yeah, who knows? You might even enjoy it."
You look between them, weighing their offer. It's tempting if only to break the monotony of your lonely existence. And as irritating as they might be, their presence is a welcome distraction from the endless silence of your mansion. "Alright," you say finally, your voice softer than before. "But if I get bored or annoyed, I'm kicking you both out."
Sanzu's grin returns in full force. "Deal, princess. We'll do our best to keep you entertained."
Rindo chuckles a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Don't worry, we'll make sure you have a night to remember."
The three of you settle into an uneasy truce, the tension in the room easing slightly. As Sanzu and Rindo continue to explore your room, their playful banter becomes less intrusive and more like a background hum, filling the empty spaces that once felt so suffocating. You find yourself laughing at their antics despite your initial irritation. Sanzu's mischievousness and Rindo's dry wit create a surprisingly dynamic duo. They might not be the company you expected, but they are, in their own way, a breath of fresh air.
You lose track of time. For the first time in weeks, you feel a sense of normalcy, of connection. It's not the same as what you felt with Manjiro, but it's something, and it's enough to lift your spirits, if only for a while. Eventually, the three of you end up sprawled out on your oversized bed, talking about everything and nothing. Sanzu tells outrageous stories that make you laugh until your sides hurt, and Rindo shares bits of his life that give you a glimpse into the world beyond your gilded cage.
As the night wears on, you feel a strange sense of contentment. You're not alone, not tonight. And for now, that's enough.
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Manjiro sighs as the meeting with the president finally ends. He leaves the room without a word as usual. Sure Saimori Shinichi was president but at the end of the day, it was still Manjiro who had control ad not the stupid rich man. Manjiro had no reason to bow down to this man nor his shitty little daughter he was engaged to who is no doubt following him out of the room. His executives are still in the meeting room with Shinichi, Akashi Takeomi and Haitani Ran continuing to talk to Shinichi about whatever the fuck is going on lately or whatever old men talk about. Manjiro wasn't concerned with any of that. His mind was elsewhere, drifting to thoughts of you. He hadn't seen you in a month, and despite his best efforts to keep his distance, he found himself constantly thinking about that night in the backseat of his car. The way you looked at him, the way you felt in his arms—it haunted him. He told himself it was for the best, that keeping his distance was the only way to keep his goals in sight. As he walks down the corridor, his fiancée, Kaya, quickens her pace to catch up with him. "Manjiro, wait," she calls her voice a mix of irritation and desperation. 
He stops but doesn't turn to face her, his eyes fixed on the large windows overlooking the mansion grounds. Kaya reaches his side, her expression a mix of frustration and longing. "Why do you always walk away from me? We need to talk."
He finally looks at her, his face impassive. "There's nothing to talk about, Kaya. This arrangement is political, nothing more."
She rolls her eyes at his cold tone but stands her ground. "You could at least try to pretend you're interested. My father expects us to present a united front when we announce our engagement to the public."
Manjiro's eyes narrow, and for a moment, a flicker of anger crosses his features. "Your father can expect whatever he wants. I didn't agree to this for him or for you. It's a business deal, and that's all it will ever be."
Kaya's eyes flash with frustration, but she takes a deep breath, clearly trying to maintain her composure. "You might see it that way, but the public will see us differently. We need to at least appear to care for each other, Manjiro."
Manjiro's eye twitches and he walks up to her till their faces are mere centimetres apart. "Do you need something from me right now, Kaya?" 
Kaya stares up at him, her eyes seeming darker than usual, probably with arousal. A tense silence hangs in the air between them as Kaya's breath quickens. She meets Manjiro's intense gaze, her expression wavering between frustration and something more heated. She places a hand on his chest, fingers trembling slightly as she speaks. "Maybe I do need something, Manjiro. Maybe I need you to show me that you're not just a cold, unfeeling machine."
Manjiro's eyes narrow further, his jaw clenching. The space between them seems to crackle with a mix of anger and unresolved tension. "Kaya," he says, his voice low and dangerous, "this isn't about feelings. This is about control, power, and maintaining appearances. Don't mistake it for anything else."
But Kaya, undeterred, presses closer, her hand sliding up to his neck. "Is that really all it is to you? Because I see something different in your eyes right now."
Manjiro's control slips for just a moment, and he grabs her wrist, holding it tightly. The look he gives her is a warning, but she doesn't back down. Instead, she tilts her head, a sly smile playing at the corners of her lips. "You think you're so untouchable, don't you, Manjiro?"
Before he can respond, Kaya rises onto her tiptoes and presses her lips to his. The kiss is fierce, almost combative as if she's trying to prove a point. For a split second, Manjiro hesitates, the unexpectedness of her boldness catching him off guard. But then, as if a switch flips, he responds with equal intensity, his grip on her wrist tightening as he pulls her closer. Their kiss deepens, fueled by a mix of anger and unspoken desire. It's a battle for dominance, neither willing to back down. Manjiro's other hand tangles in Kaya's hair, pulling her head back hard to break the kiss and look into her eyes. They're both breathing hard, their faces flushed. "This is what you wanted, huh?" Manjiro's voice is rough, laced with disdain "To push me until I reacted?"
Kaya's eyes blaze with defiance. "I wanted to see if there's something more behind that mask you wear. And I think there is."
Manjiro's grip loosens slightly, his thumb brushing against her pulse point. "You're playing a dangerous game, Kaya."
She laughs, the sound almost breathless. "Maybe. But so are you."
That's how they end up in one of the many empty rooms in the mansion. Manjiro has Kaya bent over the edge of a bed, her skirt hiked up and panties pushed aside. His pants are unzipped and pulled down just enough to pull out his cock and pound into her from behind. "fuck" he groans, digging his nails into her hips "If you wanted to be fucked like a whore should've just told me instead of being annoying"
Kaya tries to lift her face off the mattress but he just puts a hand on the back of her neck, forcing her right back down. He doesn't want to hear her moan or whimper. From the last time he did this to her, Manjiro noticed the noises she made just gave him a damn headache. He'd rather not hear her at all. His pelvis smacks against her ass each time he thrusts in, making small pat pat pat noises. Oh god did he hate this stupid bitch. He knows exactly what she's doing, using him to raise her social status, to mark her place at the top because daddy doesn't love her enough. Manjiro could care less though. She was a pawn to be thrown away later and considering the amount of men she had on the side, it wouldn't be hard getting rid of her either. "See isn't this better?" Manjiro grunts, smacking his palm hard against her ass a few times "You're much much more bearable when you're quiet"
Kaya's fingers curl into the sheets and her hips jolt every time his palm makes contact with her rear, turning the pale skin a bright pink colour. Manjiro's mind drifts off to you. He wouldn't fuck you like this. Not the same way as he fucks Kaya. 
Oh, definitely not. 
Sweet girls like you deserved to be fucked just as sweetly. 
Manjiro wouldn't just hike up your pretty skirts like he usually does with Kaya. No, he'd take his time to undress you. He'd pull the pretty ribbons out of your hair, and press kisses to your cheeks. He'd take his time stretching out your tight little hole. After all, you were too sweet for him to just shove his cock into your little cunt like he does with Kaya. You'd probably take him so well too. Something tells Manjiro you might just cry so he'd fuck you on your back. He'd maybe change positions later, have you bent over with a pillow under your tummy for better support, and he'd rub your back and press kisses along your spine. 
Oh, he'd be so fucking sweet to you.
Manjiro wouldn't fuck you the same way he fucks your step-sister.
"f-fuckk" Kaya moans, her voice muffled thanks to him pressing her face into the mattress
He feels Kaya's thighs twitch and she convulsed as she comes on his cock. Manjiro keeps going, pistoning his hips faster, rougher into her. He thinks of you, all pictures he had of the men watching you in the background take of you— all the cute little outfits you wear to university and you from a month ago in the backseat of his car, your pretty moans, helpless whimpers and your tight little cunt he needed all his willpower to stop him from pulling out his cock and just sliding in. Finally, at the memory of you moaning his name, Manjiro cums, painting Kaya's insides white. "haa~ fuck" He groans and pulls out, not even waiting for himself to soften
He goes to the attached bathroom without a word and freshens himself up a bit, washing his hands and his face and wiping himself off. Manjiro straightens himself out and leaves the bathroom, then the room, not even bothering to look at Kaya who's fixing her skirt.
He had more important things to do. 
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"wait so... You're number 2..." You say pointing at Sanzu while you sit behind Rindo twisting the purple strands of his hair into small braid "that other guy with the scar on his face, Kakucho, is number 3 and the rest of you are just executives?"
Sanzu smirks and nods, clearly amused by your curiosity. "That's right, princess. I'm number two. Kakucho is number three And the rest of us are executives, each with our own areas of expertise." He leans back against the headboard of your bed, watching you with a mixture of amusement and interest. "It's a hierarchy, just like any other organization."
Rindo chuckles, tilting his head to give you better access as you continue braiding his hair. "And we all answer to Manjiro. He's the one who keeps everything running smoothly, even if he can be a bit... intense."
You glance between the two of them, processing this information. It's strange to think of Manjiro, the person who left you feeling so vulnerable and confused, as the leader of such a powerful organization. But it also makes a certain amount of sense, given the aura of authority he carries with him. "And what exactly do you all do? I mean, besides hanging out in my room and causing trouble?"
Sanzu's grin widens, and he exchanges a look with Rindo before replying. "We handle a variety of things. Security, operations, negotiations. Anything that needs doing to keep the organization running smoothly."
Rindo nods in agreement. "Yeah, and sometimes that means dealing with problems in... unconventional ways."
You pause in your braiding, your fingers stilling as you consider their words. It's clear that their world is vastly different from yours, filled with danger and intrigue. But despite the risks, there's a certain allure to it all, a sense of excitement that you can't quite ignore. You've always been stuck behind these large walls and even larger gates. You can't deny how exciting it is that you finally get people to talk to and it was even better that they seemed so cool. Before you can dwell too much on it, the door to your room opens, and you all turn to see Manjiro standing in the doorway. His presence instantly commands attention, and the room falls silent. "Sanzu, Rindo," he says, his tone even but authoritative, "leave us."
Sanzu and Rindo exchange a quick glance before standing and making their way to the door. As they pass Manjiro, Sanzu gives you a quick wink, while Rindo offers a small nod. Then, they disappear into the hallway, leaving you alone with Manjiro. He closes the door behind him and takes a few steps into the room, his gaze fixed on you. You frown crossing your arms over your chest. "Can I help you?" You ask him
Of course, you were still mad. Radio silence for an entire month. Sure you could have texted or called him first but you weren't the one that initiated the 'spicy' moment in the back seat a month ago on the night of your birthday. Besides, you don't chase. Your ego and pride wouldn't let you. You don't want Sano Manjiro to think you're desperate for him even though deep down you are. You've never wanted someone so bad in your life. He reminds you of this pretty limited-edition doll you wanted as a kid. Of course, your dad bought it for you and yes, you still had it. 
As a child, you wanted the moon more than you wanted dolls. Sano Manjiro reminds you of your limited edition dolls but he also reminds you of the moon. 
Unreachable. 
You can't have him unless he wants you to.
"what's with the long face, sweetheart?" Manjiro asks and sits in front of you "and what's with the tone, hm?"
You just frown. "There is no tone" You reply sharply and turn away from him
That obviously doesn't last long as suddenly a hand wraps around your throat and you're forced to face him again. He was being kind of rough but not in a way to purposely hurt you. Manjiro's hand around your neck wasn't even squeezing or pressing down. He was simply holding you by the neck and— blood rushes to your face, warming your cheeks. "hm? Must be hallucinating then 'cause I'm hearing a tone"
Your breath catches as Manjiro's hand gently but firmly holds your neck, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. Despite his grip, you can feel there's no pressure, just his presence asserting itself. His eyes bore into yours with intensity, searching for something in your expression. You swallow hard, trying to maintain your composure even as your heart races. "Let go" you manage to say, your voice a whisper, a mixture of defiance and something else you can't quite name.
Manjiro's gaze doesn't waver. His thumb brushes lightly against your jawline, a gesture that's both possessive and oddly tender. "I don't think I will," he says softly, his tone low and intimate.
Your mind races, torn between anger at his audacity and the undeniable thrill of his proximity. You can feel his warmth seeping into you, eroding your resolve bit by bit and also unfortunately creating a small wet spot in your panties because you had no fucking idea you were into this shit. "This isn't funny" you retort, your voice trembling slightly despite your attempt to sound steady.
He leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours. "Who said anything about joking?" His words send a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself leaning into him involuntarily, drawn to the magnetic pull he exudes.
"I'm serious," you manage to say, even as your hands betray you by gripping his wrist lightly, not to push him away but to feel the solidity of his touch.
Manjiro's lips curl into a half-smile, the corners of his mouth quirking up in amusement when he realizes you weren't pushing him away. "So am I," he murmurs, his gaze never leaving yours. "I haven't been avoiding you, sweet girl. Just been busy"
His admission hangs heavy in the air, filling the room with an unspoken tension. You search his eyes, seeing a raw honesty that takes you aback. "Then what do you want right now?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper.
He releases your neck slowly, his hand trailing down your arm until he's holding your hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle. "I want you," he says simply, his voice low and rough with desire. "I want all of you."
Your heart pounds in your chest, his words echoing in your mind. You've wanted him too, despite your pride and the barriers you've tried to erect. But now, faced with his confession, you find yourself unable to resist any longer. Without another word, you lean in, closing the distance between you. His lips meet yours in a hungry kiss, a collision of pent-up desire and longing. The kiss is fierce and passionate, a tumultuous exchange of heat and need. His hand moves to cup your cheek, his touch is reverent yet possessive. For a moment, everything else fades away. There's only the sensation of his lips on yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne, the heat of his body pressed against yours. It's a whirlwind of emotions and sensations, overwhelming yet exhilarating. Oh you'd been thinking about the kiss you shared a month ago every night since then and this was probably even better than that. The number of times you've slipped your hand down your pyjamas at night thinking about Manjiro, the way he kissed you, touched you— oh man it almost wasn't fair to think about. When you finally break apart, breathless and dizzy with longing, Manjiro rests his forehead against yours. His eyes are dark with desire, his breathing ragged. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he admits, his voice husky with emotion.
You caress his cheek, your fingers trembling slightly. "Me too," you confess softly, unable to deny the depth of your feelings any longer.
He pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if afraid to let go. "I'm not going anywhere," he murmurs against your hair, his words a promise.
Manjiro pulls you even closer and now you're in his lap, making out all messy and eager. As you tangle your fingers in his white hair you hope you don't seem too desperate. It just feels so nice being with him, kissing him. Especially now that he wasn't treating you like a stain. Instead, Manjiro is sliding your white lace trim cardigan off your shoulders and throwing it somewhere. You're greedily about to slip your tongue into his mouth but he pulls away, making a whine slip from your lips at the loss of contact. You're pushed off his lap to fall against the pillows in a half-sitting half-laying position under him with your legs hooked over his thighs on either side of his hips. "You're quite greedy for someone that has everything" Manjiro says unbuttoning his suit jacket and throwing it in the same place he threw your cardigan
You're heart is beating too fast as you watch him undo the top few buttons of his black dress shirt and roll up the sleeves to his elbows. Sano Manjiro was unnecessarily hot but perhaps that's why you wanted him so bad. "you miss me that much, sweet girl?" He asks, a large calloused hand sliding down your left knee to your bare thigh and the other hand on your midriff keeping you down
Your breath hitches at Manjiro's touch, his hands igniting a fire under your skin. His words wash over you, their effect both thrilling and unsettling. There's no denying the intensity of your desire for him, even as you struggle to maintain your composure. "I..." you start to say, your voice barely a whisper, but he cuts you off with a finger against your lips.
"Shh," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. "No need to explain. Actions speak louder than words."
With that, he leans down and captures your lips in another searing kiss, his mouth hungry and demanding. Your hands roam his back, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. He breaks the kiss only to trail hot kisses along your jawline, down your neck, eliciting soft gasps from you. Your mind is a whirlwind of sensations, each touch from him sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. His hands continue their exploration, sliding under the hem of your blouse, causing you to arch into his touch. He teases your skin with feather-light touches, his fingers tracing patterns that make you ache for more. "I missed you" you confess breathlessly, your voice filled with a mix of longing and urgency.
Manjiro's gaze darkens with desire as he looks at you, his fingers caressing your cheek tenderly. "I know," Manjiro murmurs, his voice thick with emotion as his fingers tug at the necklace he gifted you "How about you show me what you've been doing all this time, hm? What've you been doin' while thinkin' 'bout me"
"s-show you?" you repeat shakily
Your voice trembles with a mix of nerves and anticipation as Manjiro's gaze intensifies. He nods slowly, his fingers still gently tracing the contours of your cheek, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "Yeah," he breathes, his voice a deep murmur that sends a shiver down your spine. "Show me."
You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his stare on you as you try to gather your thoughts. His proximity, the heat of his body against yours, makes it difficult to think straight. But deep down, you know what he's asking for—what you've yearned for in his absence. "show me baby" Manjiro croons, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek "You touched yourself thinking of me didn't you?"
A shiver goes through you. You didn't want to admit to him that you did. You didn't want to admit you thought of the way his fingers caressed your most intimate parts and how he kissed you but he knew anyway. "show me how you did" He coaxes and before you know it, he hooks his thumb into your panties under your skirt and tugs them down your thighs
Your heart is beating fast. Way way too fast. "oh, would you look at these" Manjiro is pulling your white lacy panties off your ankles "These are pretty"
Your panties are white, with lace around the trim and a little white bow in the center. You couldn't even tell Manjiro you wore these for him because for one, you didn't know he'd be here and two, most of your panties are in the same style. They were cute and you liked wearing cute things. Thankfully, Manjiro doesn't ask if you wore them for him but instead "Think I'll keep these" and he stuffs them into his pocket
Your outfit itself was all lacy and cute. Cream-coloured skirt with little pink flowers, a pink ribbed cami top with a bow in the center and lace straps and trim. You were happy you hadn't dressed up in your typical depressed university student get-up like a month ago on your birthday. That had been a bit embarrassing to be seen by him in that outfit. However now that you think about it, this was only the 3rd time you met Manjiro and he's already got your panties off. But then again, the second time he had his hand shoved down your shorts. Maybe this was going too fast...
You liked him definitely but this was only the third time��meeting him. Was it right to be doing this already? There are so many things to think about before doing this but the throb in the little space between your thighs stops any rational thought from truly making sense. So when Manjiro takes your hand and guides it between your thighs, you let him. "show me" he repeats as he flips your skirt up
Your movements are shaky and nervous as you scoop up your slick and spread it over your sensitive little bud. Your hips jolt at even the smallest touch and your eyes fall shut. This was embarrassing and the finger 8s you're drawing on your clit are shaky but when you open your eyes and see that Manjiro wasn't even looking at your cunt but rather your face with a softened gaze, a new rush of confidence goes through you. You let out a small shaky noise as your fingers hastily circle your nub, now a little too focused on just coming. "hey... a little slower" Manjiro whispers
Your fingers stop their pace and you look at him in confusion, eyes watery. Manjiro isn't smiling but his expression isn't cold. Rather it's soft. He looks endeared and the way he's looking at you causes this odd tugging feeling in your chest. "slower baby" Manjiro repeats and before you know it, his calloused fingers have replaced yours, lazily and slowly stroking your clit
A gasp leaves your lips and your other hand flies up to grasp at his bicep. It feels so much better than how you do it. So so good and you think you might as well just fall apart right then and there but Manjiro pulls his fingers away and guides your hand back down. "like that" he murmurs "'kay, pretty? You can do it like that for me right?"
The low tone of his voice makes your head feel fuzzy. You feel like you're drowning in his eyes and the dim lighting of your bedroom and the sun setting outside your window make this whole thing even better. It's almost romantic, even better than what you've fantasized about. 
Manjiro is even better than you've dreamed of. 
Even your dreams can't do the man above you any justice you think as you rub your clit in the same slow way he just did. His features are overall sharp but the slope of his nose is softer. His white hair is a bit messy now and his pink lips are a bit swollen. Everything about Manjiro is so pretty and it makes your head get even foggier. "there we go... doesn't it feel better when you go slower?" Manjiro asks, his thumb rubbing over the skin above your knee "one finger inside baby... take it slow"
He's being slow and coaxing and you feel yourself so easily complying, sliding your middle finger inside. A little whimper leaves your lips at the feeling. It doesn't feel as good as he did it. In fact, it hasn't been feeling as good since Manjiro touched you. Nothing else felt as good. Your fingers didn't feel as good as his did. "'Jiro..." You whimper
"Shh~" he hushes and kisses your cheek "add another"
You do just as he says, slowly thrusting two fingers in and out. It felt better but not as good as when he did it a month ago. "there we go, you're doing so well" Manjiro murmured and wrapped a hand around your throat again "Just wanna watch you make yourself feel good, baby"
He's once again not squeezing, just holding. It feels good. You like the feeling of his hands on you. "f-fuck~" Little whimpers and moans slip from your lips 
Your hips jolt and you grind your clit against the heel of your palm needily. You want more. You want him. You want it to be Manjiro's fingers inside you, not your own. "'Jiro" You whine
"Yeah baby?" he presses a kiss to your jaw "What does my sweet girl want?"
You shiver, whimpering out his name needily and your eyes turn glassy. "P-Please... want y-you to do it"
"hm? Want me to do it for you?" Manjiro presses a kiss to your forehead "Are your own fingers not enough for my sweet baby's little cunt?"
You grind your clit against your palm, so badly needing some kind of friction. "N-No it's not. they're not" You feel like you might cry
"awe my poor baby" he croons and kisses your cheek
Honestly speaking, you thought you'd need to beg or that he'd make you bed but perhaps Manjiro was feeling nice so he simply pulled your hand away from your needy cunt and replaced your fingers with his own. As soon as his thumb touches you sensitive nub your eyes roll back and lips part. Your hips jolt once his fingers start making scissoring movements and curling upwards. "there we go, good girl" Manjiro whispers and presses a kiss to your throat after you throw your head back "you just needed a little help didn't you?"
A string of whimpers leave your lips as his soft words of encouragement fill your ears and it has you falling apart in mere seconds. 
As the night draws on, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this unreachable moon might be within your grasp after all.
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Kaya put a hand over her mouth as she shut the door of your bedroom she had opened a crack. She watched it all. Watched as Manjiro kissed and caressed you, watched as you came apart beneath him and he lifted you off your bed to carry you into your bathroom. She listened as he praised you and he encouraged you to keep going. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of anger, jealousy, and something else—something more vulnerable—churning inside her. She had seen a side of Manjiro she had never witnessed before, a side that made her feel more isolated and unwanted than ever. Kaya knew this engagement was a business arrangement, but seeing him so tender and passionate with you stirred emotions she couldn't control.
Quietly, she turned away from your door and walked down the hallway, her mind racing. She needed to talk to her father, to tell him what she had seen. Perhaps there was still a way to salvage this, to make Manjiro see that she could be the one he desired.
Or wait. 
She stops in her tracks as a better idea crosses her mind. Kaya remembers her father was still yet to tell you about the engagement and she doubts Manjiro told you about it either. Perhaps... Perhaps she could use this to get back at you. Kaya smirked to herself as the plan began to take shape in her mind. She didn't need to run to her father just yet. Instead, she could leverage this secret engagement to her advantage, to twist the knife and regain some control over the situation. She continued down the hallway, her steps light with newfound resolve. There was more than one way to fight for what she wanted. "Dad" she bursts back into the meeting room as her father is still talking to Kokonoi Hajime, another Bonten executive, about their favourite poker games, the rest either smoking or in the midst of getting ready to leave
Her father sighs and Kaya's stomach twists uncomfortably at the irritated way her own father looks at her. "yes?"
Kaya clears her throat and eyed the annoying criminals in the room and they all roll their eyes and left, the pink-haired one with the scars on his mouth whose name she forgot, brushed a little too close past her. "anyways..." She mutters and sits next to her father "Have you told [y/n] about the engagement yet?"
"No, not yet. I was going to see her just now" Shinichi responds, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension
Kaya smiles and musters up the sweetest voice she possibly could. "Maybe for now don't tell her"
Shinichi raises an eyebrow, intrigued by his daughter's sudden interest in the matter especially something concerning you, his favourite. "And why shouldn't I?" he asks, his tone cautious.
Kaya leans in closer, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Because I have a plan. I've seen how Sano looks at her. You told me Dad, that we needed something to keep Bonten in check since they've been getting too bold. I saw two of them laughing and playing with her earlier—"
"Kaya I do not want to put [y/n] in any kind of danger, especially with those snakes. It was bad enough they already knew about her when I've been trying my best to hide her. I don't want to make things worse" Shinichi says rubbing his forehead
Kaya leans back slightly, considering her father's words. She knew he was protective of you, and rightly so. Bonten's world was dangerous, filled with rivalries and power struggles that could easily ensnare an innocent like you. But Kaya was driven by her own desires, fueled by the need to regain control over her crumbling world and jealously that once again you were getting love. Her father loved you more than her and now her fiancé, who for one sure she didn't like at all, but it still annoyed the hell out of her because Manjiro always treated her so cold and rough. “I understand your concern, Dad, but hear me out. We can use this to our advantage without putting [Y/N] in harm's way.”
Shinichi's expression remains skeptical, but he motions for her to continue. Kaya takes a deep breath, knowing she has to tread carefully. "If we keep it a secret, we can observe their interactions and understand what their true intentions are. We can use her as a... a way to gauge their loyalty and plans. If Manjiro is distracted by [y/n], he might make mistakes. We can use their attachment to her to our advantage. Manipulate the situation and you can win back your power and truly be president and not just a man sitting in a chair while a criminal takes control from the shadows."
Shinichi leans back in his chair, considering her words carefully. He knows Kaya is not to be underestimated when she sets her mind to something, but the thought of involving you in the dangerous dynamics of Bonten worries him deeply. "Kaya, this is risky. [Y/N] is not just a pawn in some game. She's..."
"Exactly, Dad," Kaya interrupts softly, her voice pleading now. "She's a leverage we can use and so far, three of them seem to like her"
Shinichi sighs heavily, torn between his protective instincts for you and the strategic considerations for Bonten. He rubs his temples, his expression tight with concern. "Kaya, I understand your point, but I can't risk [Y/N]'s safety just to gain an advantage over Bonten."
Kaya's jaw tightens, frustration simmering beneath the surface. She leans closer to her father, her voice urgent. "But Dad, we need something to keep them in check. They're getting bolder, and if we don't do something soon, they could undermine everything you've built."
Shinichi's gaze flickers with indecision, his mind racing through the implications of Kaya's proposal. He knows the precarious position Bonten is in, with internal tensions and external threats looming. And yet, involving you, his precious little girl, in their dangerous games is something he's always strived to avoid. In fact, he tried avoiding even letting you out of the mansion. You were his little secret, his illegitimate daughter, someone that wasn't supposed to exist— yet his first daughter was encouraging him to use you. "You want [y/n] to be our eyes and ears?" Shinichi confirms Kaya's words which do make sense as it was something you would agree to doing
Kaya nods eagerly, her eyes locking onto her father's with determination. "Yes, Dad. With [Y/N]'s connection to Manjiro and those two others, we can gain valuable insight into their plans and intentions. We can use her presence as a leverage point, without putting her directly in harm's way."
Shinichi's brow furrows deeply as he weighs the risks and potential benefits of Kaya's proposal. He knows Rindo and Sanzu, mostly the latter, are influential within Bonten, and any leverage over them could indeed strengthen his position. Yet, the thought of involving you in the dangerous world of Bonten is a bitter pill to swallow. You were his secret, his beloved daughter, sheltered from the brutal realities of the world. "Kaya, you know how I feel about this," Shinichi begins slowly, his voice tinged with reluctance. "I've kept [Y/N] out of the public eye for a reason and not just because of the backlash I'd get. She's not like us, not like you and me. She's innocent, untouched by our world."
Kaya internally rolls her eyes. Oh, she hated how her father couldn't see how much of a little bitch you were. She hates that you, the spoiled sheltered little brat with nothing to offer, is his favourite and not her. "I know, Dad. But she's already involved. Manjiro and those two are interested in her. We can use that to our advantage. She's not just an innocent girl anymore; she's a potential asset."
Shinichi rubs his temples wearily, grappling with the weight of his decision. "And what if things go wrong? What if they find out we're using her?"
"We'll be careful," Kaya insists, her voice earnest. "We won't put her directly in danger. We'll monitor the situation closely, and if it gets too risky, we'll pull her out. But right now, we need a way to keep Bonten in check. This could be our best chance."
Shinichi stares at his daughter, torn between his paternal instincts and his responsibilities as the president of Japan. He knows the risks, but he also understands the necessity of maintaining control over his new position as president of the country. Finally, he sighs heavily and meets Kaya's gaze with resignation. "Alright," he concedes reluctantly. "But we do this carefully. [Y/N]'s safety is non-negotiable. She's to be kept out of direct harm's way at all costs."
Kaya nods emphatically, relief washing over her features. "Of course, Dad. I'll make sure of it."
Shinichi gives her a stern look, his voice firm. "And Kaya, remember, [Y/N] is not just a pawn to be played in our game. She's family."
Kaya's expression softens, and she nods solemnly. "I know, Dad. I won't forget."
With a heavy heart, Shinichi rises from his chair, his mind already racing with plans and strategies. "Let's proceed cautiously, then. We'll keep the engagement a secret for now and observe the situation. But the moment I sense any danger to [Y/N], we pull the plug."
Kaya nods again, determined to prove herself and regain control over her fate. "Understood, Dad."
So they leave the study and down the hall see the snake— Bonten, standing around, seemingly talking about something. "Sano-san" Shinichi calls "I need to talk to you about something"
Manjiro is fixing his collar, his gaze cold as he looks at the president and his fiancée. "yes?"
The rest go quiet as well, waiting for Shinichi to speak. Kaya doesn't understand how you managed to get three out eight of the top members of Bonten wrapped around your finger when they're all so damn scary. She hates your guts but she sure applauds you for it. "about my other daughter..." Shinichi starts
Manjiro's expression remains stoic, his demeanour unreadable as Shinichi mentions you. Kaya observes him closely, noting the controlled way he holds himself, the mask of indifference he wears so well. It's a stark contrast to the passionate intensity she witnessed earlier in your bedroom, a side of him she hadn't imagined existed. "What about her?" Manjiro asks curtly, his voice devoid of emotion.
Shinichi hesitates briefly, exchanging a glance with Kaya before continuing. "I was planning to inform her about the engagement soon, but I think we hold off on it for now."
Manjiro's gaze flickers, a hint of curiosity betraying his outwardly composed demeanour. "Is that so?" he replies, his voice neutral.
Kaya watches him closely, trying to gauge his reaction. She wonders if he suspects anything if he knows about the plan she and her father have discussed. But Manjiro's expression remains inscrutable, giving nothing away. Shinichi clears his throat, his tone measured as he continues, "sibling rivalry and all. You know how it is with girls" 
Kaya can't help but narrow her eyes a little at her father's excuse. "Kaya, the adults are talking, how about you go see what's for dinner" Shinichi says to her
She bites her tongue and pretends to leave but listens to the rest of the conversation behind a wall. "[y/n] and Kaya have always had fights growing up and telling [y/n] might cause even more problems..." Shinichi says
Manjiro's gaze shifts between Shinichi and Kaya, his expression guarded. He's accustomed to navigating the murky waters of alliances and rivalries within Bonten, but the mention of sibling dynamics brings a flicker of interest to his eyes. "I see," Manjiro responds evenly, though there's a subtle tension in his posture that Kaya notices. 
She knows she's testing the waters here, trying to see how much Manjiro knows or suspects. Despite her envy and frustration, she's also intrigued by the depth of his composure. Shinichi nods, his tone deliberate. "Yes, I'd prefer to handle the situation delicately. Their relationship is... complicated."
Kaya watches Manjiro closely, searching for any sign that he might see through their facade. She knows her father is trying to buy time, to use you as a pawn without you being aware. But with Manjiro, she senses there's more at play—his intelligence and perceptiveness could be a challenge to their plans. "I understand," Manjiro replies, his voice betraying no hint of his thoughts. "Family matters can be sensitive."
Shinichi nods in agreement, his gaze steady on Manjiro. "Indeed. I trust you understand the importance of discretion in this matter."
Manjiro inclines his head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgement. "Of course."
Kaya smiles and pulls her bottom lips between her teeth. She couldn't wait. But Kaya also knows she needs to bide her time. She can't reveal her cards too soon, not when you and Manjiro are still in the honeymoon phase of your blossoming relationship. She'll wait, she'll watch, and when the moment is ripe, she'll strike.
In the meantime, she'll play the role of the supportive sister, the innocent bystander caught in the complexities of family dynamics. She'll observe your interactions with Manjiro, noting every smile, every touch, and every whispered promise. And with each passing day, her resolve strengthens, fueled by jealousy and ambition.
It would tear you apart and she knows it will.
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[END SCENE]
"hey sweetheart" You hear your dad's voice echo in your room as you lie in bed now showered and changed in your pyjamas
You sit up in bed, your heart warming at the sound of your father's voice after such a long time apart. Despite the complications and secrets swirling around you, his presence brings a sense of comfort and familiarity. "Hi Dad!" you exclaim with a bright smile, pushing aside the lingering thoughts of the evening's events. 
You notice the tiredness in his eyes, the weight of responsibility that seems to have settled on his shoulders more heavily than usual. Being president must definitely be hard. Shinichi steps into your room, a small smile tugging at his lips as he takes in your appearance. "You look well," he remarks softly, his gaze filled with paternal affection "my little girl barely looks a day over 10, I can't belive you're 20 now"
You pout as he sits down in front of you. "hey! I do not look 10"
Shinichi chuckles warmly, reaching out to playfully ruffle your hair. "Alright, maybe not 10. But you'll always be my little girl, no matter how old you get," he says fondly, his tone tinged with both pride and a hint of melancholy.
You lean into his touch, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. Despite the complexities of your family's situation and the secrets that seem to hover just beneath the surface, moments like these with your father are precious to you. "I missed you, Dad," you admit softly, your voice carrying the weight of the time you spent apart.
His expression softens, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. "I missed you too, sweetheart," Shinichi replies sincerely, his gaze searching yours. "I'm sorry for being so distant lately. Things have been... complicated."
You nod understandingly, knowing all too well the pressures and responsibilities that come with his position. "It's okay, Dad," you assure him, reaching up to squeeze his hand gently. "I know you're doing your best."
Shinichi smiles gratefully, his eyes reflecting his gratitude for your understanding. "Thank you, [Y/N]," he says softly. "I appreciate that more than you know."
Silence settles between you for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. Finally, you decide to ask him "Why does Bonten know who I am?"
Shinichi sighs. It was time to let the skeletons out of the closet. 
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notes: I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the smut was okay
likes, asks, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡
taglist: @m-ilkiee @reiners-milkbiddies @short-cxke @brisssaaa009 @tenjikusstuff4
@asirensrage @fushiquro @iwasei @kiwixpi @mysouleaten @luminouslaybyrinth @merrymerrykiss
@maraya-007 @dolfiins-art @yuyu12mm @kodzubaby @zantetsuwu @hayatisyourlife @bachiraslvr @bontensbabygirl
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redroomreflections · 1 month ago
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A Quiet Moment
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Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
A Family of Her Own Series
2/7
Masterlist | General Masterlist
w/c: 1.9k
Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.
This Chapter: Natasha and R after Natasha comes home. Natasha is still on the run and this is set sometime after BW movie. -
The night came quicker than Natasha anticipated. Darkness wrapped around the small house like a soft blanket, the only sounds being the constant chirping of crickets outside and the faint creaks of the wooden floor settling. In the dim light of the moon filtering through the curtains, Natasha lay awake, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts, but her body was blissfully still.
The bed beneath her was cool and inviting, but the warmth of you pressed against her side sent a wave of comfort through her. You were close—so close that she could feel your steady heartbeat.
In the rarely used guest room, just a few steps away, the gentle breaths of your new occupants filled the air with a quiet sweetness. Stella, in her little room, lay curled up under a sea of blankets, her small figure rising and falling with each breath. It had taken some time to get her to sleep. Constant promises that Natasha would still be there in the morning remained.
Natasha could picture her, the way she’d insist on sleeping with her favorite stuffed animal, a well-loved bear with one ear missing.
And in the nearby crib, Nick slept soundly, his tiny chest rising and falling softly. Natasha’s heart swelled at the sight of him, so peaceful, the previous night’s fever just a memory. You had moved the crib closer to your bed after Nicky had fallen ill, something you’d informed her of when she’d questioned it. Natasha turned her head slightly, glancing at you.
“You should be sleeping,” You mumble tiredly.
Natasha blinks, turning to face you fully. You look back at her, your eyes hooded, a small, sleepy smile on your lips. She feels a smile tug at her own lips.
“I can’t,” She whispers.
Your smile is comforting as you gently pull her closer, resting your forehead against hers. You cup her cheek, and she leans into the touch.
You let out a soft sigh, reaching out and tracing the curve of her jaw with your finger. Natasha watches you, her heart racing, her mouth going dry.
"Is this okay?" You ask quietly, your finger moving down her throat, following her pulse.
Natasha swallows hard and nods. She wants this, and she wants you. She just doesn’t know what you want, but she thinks she does when you move closer.
“We can’t,” You frown slightly. “I want to but…” You say. You glance over to your sleeping infant just a few feet away.
Natasha knows the feeling of wanting something but knowing it isn't right. She reaches for your hand, squeezing it.
"It's fine," Natasha says, though she isn't sure if she believes herself. “I just want to be here with you.” She assures you. “Are you sure he’s okay?”
“I’m sure,” You nod. “His fever broke just before you came. He was fine. You saw. Even smiled for Melina.” You smile.
Natasha chuckles. A genuine smile appears on her face. The image of Nick smiling up at her was one that would forever be imprinted in her memory.
“I’m worried I’m missing everything with them,” She admits quietly. “I’m leaving you to do everything on your own.”
Your smile is comforting as you gently pull her closer, resting your forehead against hers. You cup her cheek, and she leans into the touch.
"You're doing the best you can, Natasha," You tell her. “This is what we agreed is safer. Stella and Nicky are safe here.”
Natasha frowns. She knows. It was her idea, after all. But, still, a part of her wonders if things could be different.
“Is it what’s best for you? For us,” Natasha begins. “We are married. How can that work if we barely see each other? If you’re only with the kids. It’s unfair to you.”
Your brow furrows, and you lean back to look at her.
"That's not how I think of it," You tell her. "We're doing the best we can, Natasha. The best for us, the best for the kids. This is what we wanted. A family. When all of this blows over we will be together.”
“Oh yeah,” She replies lazily. “Is that what that meant earlier in the kitchen ? It was a warm welcome from you.”
“You mean the part where I hugged and kissed you?” You raise a brow.
“No, the part where you kind of ignored me,” She replies.
“For Stella to have her moment with you,” You roll your eyes.
"And when you kissed my cheek?" She questions.
"You didn't seem to mind it," You reply. "Did you?"
"What if I did?"
"Then I wouldn't do it again." You rub a hand across your face.
“You’re pissed,” Natasha sighs.
“Do you want me to be angry with you ?” You shake your head. “I can ice you out if you want.”
“I want to hear how you feel about all of this,” She reasons. “I want to hear how you’ve been.”
There’s a pause.
“Baby?” She turns to you.
“I’ve been…” You rest your head against the pillows. “I’ve been lonely. Afraid. Exhausted.”
Natasha begins to grab your hand but you stop her.
“It’s not something you can make feel better with a hug and a kiss,” You pull away. You don’t want to but she asked. “These Accords. They’re serious, Natasha. Before that you were in Lagos for who knows how long. Then you’re on the run. You’re still on the run might I add. You come home with these strangers. A new family. People I’m supposed to welcome in when you’ve never told me about them before. You never even mentioned you had a sister.”
“I’m sorry…” She begins. “It’s complicated.”
“It always is,” You shake your head. “That’s what it always has been. Dominic doesn’t remember you, sure, we could work on that if you’re home sometimes. If you’d bother to call. Stella asks about you all the time. The only glimpse of you she gets is on the news if I allow her. She’s two there’s only so much placating she’ll take.”
Natasha doesn’t speak this time. She knows you’re not done.
“And I,” You choke on your words. “I’m here everyday. Being the doting, and loyal wife, I cook, I clean, take care of the kids. Hell, I fuck you when you come home if that’s what you ask of me. I just want you to be clear with me about what this is. What we are to you. If we’re just some side quest I’d have rather been told this before pushing two eight pound babies out for you. For us. Because we’re married. You won’t tell me about the new scars you have. How you’re practically still limping on your feet. Natasha, I don’t know what you want me to say. You’re here for two days.”
Natasha breathes. She allows you the space as she sits with your words.
“I asked Stella about her birthday,” You say finally. “She says her only wish is to have both of her Mommies with her.” You can’t see her face but you know that part has hit her hard.
You take her hand again and intertwine your fingers.
"I just...I want to know what we are, Nat," You say. "I can't do this without knowing. It's driving me insane."
Natasha takes a deep breath and pulls away, sitting up. Her stomach is churning with anxiety.
"I don't know," She confesses, her voice low. "I'm trying, okay?”
“You don’t know ?” Your voice has a harder edge now. “What the fuck do you mean you don’t know.”
“Y-“ She tries again.
“No, you need to talk to me. Explain to me what that answer means.”Natasha looks away, refusing to meet your gaze. She can't stand to see the hurt and anger in your eyes.
"I don't know what to tell you," She says, her tone sharper than she intended.
“Tell me you love me. Tell me you’ll come home. Tell me you won’t miss your daughter’s third birthday or your son’s first.”
Natasha can feel the tears stinging her eyes, threatening to fall. She can't do any of those things. Not the way you want her to.
"I can't," Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I have to break them out. Wanda’s stuck. They’re all in prison because of me.”
She looks over at you, her eyes brimming with tears. She knows that what she's saying isn't fair.
"If I do this, if I free them, they'll come here," Natasha says. You shake your head, and Natasha can see the tears forming in your eyes. She hates seeing you cry. It's worse when she's the cause.
"So, what?" You ask. "We can't just keep hiding. We can’t continue being your secret. I refuse.”
"I'm trying to protect you," Natasha insists.
"But, what about me, Nat," You demand, your voice rising. "You can't just show up out of nowhere. Stay for two days then leave.”
Natasha is silent for a moment, her mind racing, her heart pounding. She needs to fix this. But how can she fix something when she doesn't know what's broken?
"God, I feel so stupid,” Your voice breaks. You quickly wipe at your eyes.
Natasha looks at you, her heart aching. You're her wife. You've always been there for her, no matter how difficult things got. But now, she feels like she's failing you.
“Baby, come here,” She reaches for you.
"Just stop," You snap.
Natasha stops, her hand hanging in the air. Her throat tightens. She's never seen you like this, so angry and upset.
"I can't keep doing this," You whisper. “I don’t have all of the answers for us. I gave up a career. I gave up my life for us. For this. For a family with you.”
Natasha doesn't respond.
"I gave up so much, and you won't even tell me the truth," You continue. "You're lying to me. To everyone. Even the kids."
"I'm trying to protect you," She says again.
"To protect them. If I tell anyone about the farm, about the kids, about us. It's over.”
"Would that be so bad?”
"I-."
"You said you love me," You remind her. "You promised me. That's what you told me when I got pregnant with Stella."
Natasha doesn't know what to say.
“Nat, I don’t want to fight,” You frown. “I didn’t want our only nights together to be like this.”
"I know," She murmurs.
"It's just hard, and you're not making it easier."
"I know."
"I'm sorry," You apologize.
"I know," Natasha repeats. She reaches for you again. This time you come. Somehow you ball yourself into her lap, your face resting in her neck.
“I don’t want to get the call one day that you’re gone,” You whisper.
"I won't," Natasha says, rubbing your back. "I promise."
"You can't promise that.”
"I'll be careful."
"Don't make promises you can't keep."
“I love you, Nat,” You kiss her neck.
She holds you close, savoring the feel of you in her arms.
"I love you, too," She whispers.
The room falls quiet once more, the only sound coming from the occasional gust of wind against the window pane.”How are you feeling?" Natasha asks after a few moments, her voice soft.
"Better," You answer. "Now that you're here."
"I'm sorry I've been gone so much," She says. “Once all of this blows over. Give me a month. Two tops. I’m home for good. I’ll tell everyone.”
"Promise?" You look up at her.
"Promise," Natasha smiles, leaning in and kissing you.
The kiss is slow, soft, and full of love. Natasha's hand rests on the back of your neck, her fingers gently caressing the skin. You needed her. You’ve wanted her all this time and now she’s here.
next part
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animeyanderelover · 19 days ago
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Anon: Can I have headcanons about a reader who is much older? I mean, she is older, smarter, wiser, stronger although she looks young for her age. During her long life, she has experienced a lot of terrible things and therefore cannot tolerate injustice. She is not a hero who wants to change the world, but she will not offend the weak. She has such a specific aura of a mother that you involuntarily go to her for advice (and she gives it) When the character talks about his age, she just smiles and thinks, “he’s still just a child.” Featuring Chrollo, Shalnark, Dazai, Deidara, Kurapika, Pouf, Gojo
This is to be read in a platonic context.
Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, clinginess, isolation
Tags: @swagenemyartisan @cachamata @jamayah @chxxz @leveyani @hyakki-yosai @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59 @shumidehiro @izanami78
You're still just a child
Deidara
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💥​Deidara truly is a walking talking contradiction. On the one hand he often complains to you that he doesn't want to be treated like a child yet as soon as he is even slightly upset or offended by something or someone he comes running to you with a big pout on his face. Despite everything at heart he remains an attention-seeker after all who would hate to witness you paying attention to someone else. He is truly a breathing manchild though as his temper really reminds you of the bratty attitude of a child. It is so easy to make him jealous to the point where he has actually threatened to bomb the people who elicited such ugly emotions out of him only to be scolded and afterwards receiving the cold shoulder from you, something that causes him to actually tear up. As much as he complains about not wanting to be treated like a child, Deidara still insists for you to brush his hair and tie it in the morning whenever he stays the night. He's always without a fail complaining to you about Sasori and their constant arguments about what the true definition of art is, wanting you to take his side of the argument. On every special celebration possible he prepares a firework for you.
Kurapika Kurta
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⛓️​Kurapika is going to go into this a lot more skeptical. It's alright to have friends who are not part of his clan but going as far as to see someone as a mother is testing his loyalty to his clan as Kurapika is painfully aware that you aren't his biological parent. He often shies away from your attention and rejects your help as the feeling of betraying his own clan gnaws at his soul. Still he finds himself subconsciously seeking you out whenever he experiences an emotional tumult, already knowing deep down that you can soothe his overflowing rage. He starts getting quite selfish the more he gets attached to you as he attempts to isolate you more from others. After all it is not uncommon for people to admire you for your strength and your youthful looks despite your age and such people always put him on edge. You are by all means far from naive yet his distrust often outweights his rationality. You never fail to notice his brooding emotions and always put a calming hand on his shoulder, emotionally and literally holding him back. You have never attempted to take the morally high ground when you found out about his desire for revenge, never belittled him and it allows him to express his pain freely to you.
Chrollo Lucilfer
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📖​Intrigue is always the emotion that will serve as the bait to gain Chrollo's attention and it truly is no different in this scenario. You see, Chrollo has always been rather sophisticated with a unique philosophy and he loves having long discussions with you about humanity and all their rights and wrongs. You're neither driven by revenge nor are you someone who sees herself as a hero who has to stop him. Instead you listen to him with that gentle look on your face and it only serves as fuel to Chrollo's curiosity as he rarely witnesses such composure. However, he is not quite sure how he should feel about the way you view him as still a child. Sure, you may be older than him but throughout his life Chrollo has learnt that even adults reverted back to crying babies when he confronted them and promised them death. The concept of a mother is something neither he nor any of the other members of the Phantom Troupe have experienced, the strange warmth within his heart a sensation so unfamiliar that it feels alien. Still, he supposes that it's quite nice. I feel like in this specific dynamic he would actually refrain from stealing your Nen-ability simply because he genuinely respects you.
Shalnark
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📱​Usually his sweet smiles are very deceiving but they are always genuine whenever he visits you. Whilst Shalnark harbored some distrust against you during the beginning as years of being a thief and criminal have given him direct exposure to the ugliness of humans he has learnt to realise that you aren't like common people. You have had your own share of struggles and injustice and it is a topic he learns to bond over with you as well as learning to respect you for your physical and mental strength as a consequence of your past. Indeed, the two of you may appear like a mother and her sweet son spending time together yet there is always a sinister motive that lies hidden. Shalnark always pays you a visit after a successful mission the Phantom Troupe committed as it is a nice change of pacing. Initially he brings you souvenirs as a gift, most of them stolen objects from the robbery. It becomes quickly clear though that you do not appreciate such presents, especially if the blood of innocents sticks to them like invisible karma. If you should have difficulties regarding technology and electronical devices Shalnark is always there to help you and fix stuff for you.
Shaiapouf
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🎻​Shaiapouf gives you intense hatred after you pick him up from the palace where he almost died, blames your kind for the death of his beloved king and heavily blames himself for not having done more. You should have saved the king and not this unworthy and incapable servant. He only complies begrudgingly because you are stronger than he is and his animal genes accept the natural order of the food chain where you stand above him. Born to serve and born to help his majesty to receive greatness, perhaps it is this desperate wish that slowly leads him to push his ideals on you. He notices the spark of potential, starts clinging to the attention and care you give him as he receives a taste of what it must feel like to have a nurturing mother. Shaiapouf hatched already as an adult who knew of his purpose and already possessed great levels of intelligence yet the more love he receives the more he starts reminding you of a child. Still dedicated to serve and protect yet also constantly seeking approval and damning everyone who may even attempt to date you. It is somewhat endearing though, especially if he splits himself and you have multiple mini hims clinging to you.
Dazai Osamu
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🤎​You indeed ended up picking up a stray dog with several issues after stopping him from trying one of his many attempts to die. Dazai keeps up his initial antics as he asks you if you would like to join him, quickly shoot him down by revealing your age which elicits one of his theatrical reactions out of him. The truth is that Dazai never had loving parents and much less a mother who nurtured him and cared for him and even if he would have had one he doubts she would have been able to love him for the monster he used to be and partially still is. It is this inexperience that startles him when he receives tastes of it from you. It is a sensation akin to being submerged in scathing hot water, his mind torn apart between pain and a strange comfort that urges him to drown even deeper. What frightens him even more is your willingness to listen to him in order to understand him better, something he has never received before as most people have just learned to live with his antics and brush them off when he lets them out. Pain makes someone wiser and that applies perfectly to you and Dazai can't help himself but seek you out for advice, searches for the answer of what he was made for by seeking out you.
Gojo Satoru
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🩵​You've known Gojo since he entered Jujutsu High, actually decided to tutor him despite having retired after the world failed you. Partially you see yourself in this young boy and it is this urge to teach him to not repeat mistakes of the past that leads you to take him in, officially becoming his first teacher as he was only ever taught the basics by his own family. You seek out the boy underneath those blue eyes on a personal level no one has ever bothered to get to know him on. What makes Gojo Satoru Gojo Satoru? So used to being treated like a valuable weapon than someone's son it is almost sickening for a while for Satoru and even though he attempts to hide it beneath that careless grin you sense his distress and help him to work through it. After Suguru chose a path of hatred to walk on you are the only person Satoru still has left and on that day he breaks down in tears for the first time and clings to you like a weeping child in need of his mother's love and comfort. He completely turns his back on his biological parents, even coldly states to them one time that he only has one mother which is you. The only approval that matters is yours, the only attention he needs is yours.
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jetii · 1 month ago
Text
Stars Align
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Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader / Tech x Jedi!Reader
Words: 9,053
Tags/Warnings: fluff, found family-ness, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, inappropriate use of the Force (i'd argue it's appropriate actually), kind of dom!Tech, also feral Tech
Summary: It's been over a week since Sarad has returned, and Tech is eager for some time alone to reconnect uninterrupted. If only the universe was so kind.
A/N: A long-awaited smut between my fav couple!! Set shortly after The Possibility of Infinity and months before Charting A New Course.
Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist
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It had been a week since Echo's return, and a week since Tech's reunion with you.
It's strange, how fast everything had changed. One moment, he had been living a life without you, and the next, he's waking up beside you, and eating breakfast with you, and taking long walks with you. And, despite the fact that you had been gone for a year, it all feels so familiar, and so comfortable, and so right.
Like coming home.
But, in a way, it isn't a surprise. You had always been the exception to every rule. The one thing that didn't fit the pattern. The variable that didn't conform to the equation. The constant that defied logic and reason.
The woman he loves.
And now, you're back, and everything has changed.
He's happier than he had ever been. Happier than he had ever thought possible.
But there is also a sense of unease. There are moments where he finds himself questioning his reality. It's an unsettling feeling, and one that has led to more than one sleepless night.
It's a problem, but not one that he can easily solve. It's something he will have to live with, and, eventually, the feelings will fade.
But, in the meantime, he has his family. They had taken the news of your return surprisingly well. He had expected some level of shock, or suspicion, or even resentment, but they had all been supportive. They had listened patiently to your story and had assured him that they were happy for him. And, although the concern in their voices had been obvious, he knows that they meant it.
So, despite the lingering doubt, Tech has taken comfort in their support and allowed himself to relax. To enjoy the time with you. To savor the simple joys of life.
He only wishes he could get you alone.
It isn't that his brothers and Omega are a nuisance. It's quite the opposite. He's grateful to have them around, and their presence has helped to alleviate his fears.
But it would be nice to have some time alone with you. A week is far too short a period to catch up, and there are still so many questions that need to be answered, so many plans that need to be made, and so much lost time that needs to be made up for.
In short, a week isn't enough. Not nearly.
And, as much as he loves his brothers, they seem determined to monopolize every minute of the day. He understands, of course. There is a lot to catch up on, and he isn't the only one who wants to spend time with you. But it's starting to get frustrating, and the temptation to lock himself and you in his room and ignore the rest of the world is growing stronger by the day.
Not that he would actually do it.
As much as he wants time alone with you, he can't bring himself to complain. Because his brothers are happy, and so is Omega, and, after all the tragedy and trauma and loss, he's not about to jeopardize that.
But the fact remains that a week isn't nearly enough.
Tech sighs and pushes his goggles up to his forehead, rubbing the indents they left on his skin. He doesn't know why he's so agitated. He had spent an entire year apart from you, and a lifetime apart before he knew you. Surely, he can survive a few more days.
But, despite his reassurances, he can't help but feel a twinge of irritation at the fact that you are currently out with Wrecker, while he is stuck here, tinkering with the new security system and trying not to think about how long you'll be gone.
He knows it's not Wrecker's fault. It's just a coincidence. A matter of timing. And, in truth, he's glad that you have taken the time to spend with each of his brothers. You and Wrecker especially had always been close, and Tech had expected him to be the first to steal you away.
Still, it doesn't make him any less annoyed.
He glances over at the clock and sees that it's only been an hour since you left. It's far too soon for you to be back. Not that he's keeping track.
He turns his attention back to the wiring in front of him, but his mind wanders. He thinks about you, and about how much he misses you. And, when the memory of the last time the two of you had kissed enters his mind, his fingers slip, and the wire snaps.
Tech curses under his breath and pulls the damaged piece free. He's usually much more careful than this. It's not like him to make such a mistake. But, in his defense, it's been a stressful week. And the thought of having time alone with you, even if it's just for a few hours, is incredibly distracting.
He's being ridiculous. He knows he is. But he can't help it.
He's about to start re-soldering the wiring when he hears the door open, followed by the sound of footsteps. He recognizes the cadence of them immediately, and his heart begins to beat faster.
"Sarad?" he calls, glancing towards the entrance of the kitchen.
"Hey," you say as you round the corner. You look tired, but there's a smile on your lips, and a sparkle in your eyes. When you lean down to press a kiss to his cheek, the scent of grass and flowers fills the air, and Tech finds himself inhaling deeply.
"I didn't expect to see you so soon," he says as he sets his tools aside. He stands from his spot kneeling by the panel and wipes his hands on a rag. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes, everything's fine," you assure him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
"And Wrecker?"
"He's good," you say, a hint of laughter in your voice. You take a step closer to him and wrap your arms around his neck, your eyes meeting his. Your fingers run through the hairs at the nape of his neck, and the sensation sends a shiver down his spine.
"Good," Tech murmurs, his hands settling on your waist. "I'm glad."
"So am I." You push yourself up onto your toes, pressing a kiss on his jaw. He feels his cheeks grow warm, and he bites his lip, suppressing a grin.
"I'm glad to see you too," he whispers as his hands pull you closer.
"I can tell," you tease, your lips moving lower, grazing the line of his jaw. He closes his eyes, and swallows thickly, trying to keep his composure. But, with you so close, and your scent surrounding him, it's difficult.
"I was wondering," you begin, your voice low and warm, "if you'd like to spend some time alone together?"
"Yes," he says instantly. He feels your lips curl into a smile against his neck, and he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. "What did you have in mind?"
"Oh, I don't know," you say, and he can practically hear the mischief in your voice. "We could go for a walk. Or we could watch a holofilm. Or we could find a nice, quiet, empty room."
"A nice, quiet, empty room sounds wonderful," he manages, his voice strained
"Really?" You pull away, and his eyes open. There's a wicked glint in your eyes, and his stomach flips. "I wasn't sure if that was something you'd be interested in."
"No, I'm very interested," he replies, his voice low and breathy. "I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too." 
You lean in and capture his lips in a deep kiss. It's passionate and hungry, and he can't stop the moan that escapes him. His arms wrap around you, and he holds you tightly, relishing the feeling of your body pressed against his. He kisses you hungrily, greedily, as if trying to make up for the lost time.
And you return the kiss eagerly, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, your lips parting for his. Tech takes a step forward, and you move with him, your back pressing against the counter. His hands roam your body, exploring every curve and dip, and when you bite his lip, he gasps, his fingers tightening on your hips. You smirk against his mouth, your fingers trailing down his chest, and lower, lower, lower...
"Hey, Tech!" Hunter calls out. "Are you—oh. Oh."
Tech jumps at the sound of his brother's voice, his heart pounding in his chest. He pulls away from you, his face flushed, and looks over his shoulder to see Hunter standing in the doorway, his expression somewhere between amusement and embarrassment.
"Hunter," Tech says, his voice shaking slightly.
"Hi, Hunter," you reply, not bothering to hide the smirk on your face.
"Uh," Hunter starts. He scratches the back of his head awkwardly, pointedly staring at a spot above Tech's shoulder. "Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt."
"It's fine," Tech mutters, and he can't help the scowl that crosses his face. He takes a step back, putting some space between you, but he doesn't go far. "What did you need?"
"Nothing," Hunter says, shaking his head. "Just, uh, came to check on the security system. I can come back later."
"That would be best," Tech agrees, his tone clipped.
"Alright," Hunter says. He gives you a small nod. "See you later, Sarad."
"See you," you reply.
With a final, awkward nod, Hunter leaves the kitchen, his footsteps fading quickly.
Tech exhales, and the tension leaves his shoulders. He glances at you and sees that you're barely suppressing a laugh.
"You could have warned me," he grumbles.
"And miss that expression? Never."
He rolls his eyes, but he can't help the grin that tugs at his lips. You reach out and take his hand, lacing your fingers through his, and the warmth that blooms in his chest is almost overwhelming.
"So, where were we?"
"I believe we were about to go and find that nice, quiet, empty room," he answers, his free hand moving to your waist, his fingers teasing the skin beneath your shirt.
"Ah, yes. How could I forget?"
You press another kiss to his lips, slow and languid, and Tech can't stop the groan that slips out. You smirk against his mouth, and his hand moves up, his thumb brushing against your side. You gasp, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours. You melt into the embrace, your hand moving to grip his forearm, and his grip on you tightens, pulling you flush against him.
After a moment, you pull back, breathless, and the look in your eyes sends a jolt of heat through him. "I've been wanting to do that all day."
"You're not the only one," he says, his voice husky.
You smile, and his heart stutters. "Really?"
"Yes, really." He leans in and presses a kiss to your neck, his lips grazing your pulse. "I didn't realize how much I missed this."
"Missed what?" you ask, your voice low.
"Being close to you." He sucks gently on your skin, eliciting a soft moan from you. "Feeling your body against mine."
You gasp, your head tilting to the side, giving him better access. He trails his lips down, kissing and nipping the skin along your collarbone. Your hand moves up his arm, sliding into his hair, and your nails dig into his scalp, sending a shiver down his spine.
"I've missed this too," you whisper, your breath hitching as he finds a particularly sensitive spot. "I've missed you."
"Me too."
His hands move lower, cupping your ass, and you arch into him, your body pressed flush against his. He groans, and the sound seems to spur you on. You tug at his hair, drawing his lips back up to yours, and then you're kissing him again, hot and desperate and needy.
He's dizzy, drunk on the taste of you, and the scent of you, and the feel of you. The weeks and months and years of separation seem to melt away, and it's like no time has passed. Like the two of you have always been this way. Like you were always meant to be together.
Tech lifts you up, placing you on the edge of the counter, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Your lips trail along his jaw, his throat, his ear, and he shudders, his breath catching in his throat.
"I could get used to this," you murmur against him.
"What, kissing me?" he teases, his lips curving into a smirk.
"Yes," you reply, your teeth grazing his earlobe. "Among other things."
He feels his pulse quicken, and his hands slide up, caressing the skin beneath your shirt. "Other things?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Like what?"
"You'll find out." Your lips find the sensitive spot behind his ear, and he moans. "If you're lucky."
He laughs, and the sound is strained, breathless. "Sarad, you are cruel.”
"But you love me anyway."
"I do." He smiles, his hands moving up your back. "More than anything."
"I love you, too."
He kisses you again, and the world seems to disappear. Nothing exists except for you. Your lips. Your body. Your hands, gripping him, holding him, keeping him grounded. He feels a rush of euphoria, a sense of freedom he hasn't felt in a long time.
Your hand moves between your bodies, and he gasps as you palm his growing arousal through his pants. His grip on you tightens, and he presses himself against you, craving the friction.
He's aware, distantly, of the door opening, but he's too lost in the moment to care. Tech pulls away from your lips, and moves to the crook of your neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. You whimper and squirm against him, and his grip on your waist tightens, holding you in place.
"Whoa!"
Wrecker's voice cuts through the air, and Tech freezes, his lips still pressed to your skin. "Oh, for—"
"Don't stop on my account," Wrecker says, and Tech can hear the laughter in his voice. "I was just coming in for a snack."
Tech sighs and presses his forehead against your shoulder, willing his heart rate to slow. Your fingers card through his hair, and he feels you shake with silent laughter. He closes his eyes and counts to ten as he runs his hands up and down your thighs, trying to calm himself.
"Alright," Tech says, his tone firm. "Then get out."
"Alright, alright," Wrecker says, still chuckling. He makes his way to the cooler and grabs a few containers of leftovers, humming a jaunty tune. He closes the cooler, and pauses. "Didn’t know you had it in you, Tech."
"Out!"
Wrecker's laughter echoes through the kitchen as he leaves. The moment the door shuts, you burst into a fit of giggles. Tech pulls back and looks at you, and his heart skips a beat. You're grinning, and your eyes are sparkling, and your hair is disheveled.
"I think," you say, once your laughter has subsided, "that the universe is trying to tell us something."
"That we should move to a deserted planet?"
"Well, maybe not that extreme." You touch his cheek, your expression softening. You're smiling, but there's a hint of concern in your eyes. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," he says, a bit reluctantly. "Just...disappointed."
"Hey, it's okay." You cup his face, your thumbs stroking his cheeks. "We have all the time in the world. I’m sure we’ll get a chance sooner or later.”
“Ideally, sooner,” he murmurs, and he leans in, his lips brushing yours. You hum softly, a pleased sound, and he feels his body begin to react.
But, before the kiss can become anything more, he hears the sound of approaching footsteps, and he groans, pulling away from you. Tech rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, willing his racing heart to slow.
"I'm sorry, Sarad," he whispers, his voice laced with frustration. "I know this isn't what you wanted."
"Hey," you say, and your hands move to his shoulders, gently massaging the muscles. "I know it's not ideal. But we're together. That's all that matters."
"It is."
He sighs and steps away from you, his eyes meeting yours. He knows you're right, but it doesn't change the fact that he's frustrated, and tired, and desperately wants to have a few hours alone with you. The past few days have been nothing but chaos, and there hasn't been a moment of peace. And, as much as he loves his family, and is grateful for their support, he's starting to lose his patience.
He's being selfish. He knows that. But, in his defense, it's been a very, very long week.
"I should probably get back to work," he says reluctantly. He's not particularly eager to continue re-wiring the security system, but it's better than sitting here, stewing in his own thoughts.
"Tech," you start, a note of worry in your voice. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean to make things difficult."
"You didn't." He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "It's not your fault. We were bound to have some...difficulties. I just hadn't expected it to be so challenging." He offers you a wry smile. "At least it's not as bad as the time we were interrupted by the droid patrol."
You laugh, the sound music to his ears. "Or the time Crosshair walked in on us."
"Maker, don't remind me," he groans. The memory of his brother's expression had haunted him for weeks, and he had never quite recovered from the embarrassment. He sighs. "That was...an experience."
"Yeah," you chuckle. "I think Cross was more traumatized than we were."
"That is possible," he admits, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "And, at least this time, no one was injured."
"Very true," you agree. You lean forward and press a chaste kiss to his lips, and when you pull back, there's a smile on your face. "We'll get there. I promise."
"I hope so," he replies.
"And when we do," you murmur, your hand reaching out to rest on his thigh, your voice taking on a low, sultry tone. "I plan to do terrible, wicked things to you."
"Terrible, wicked things?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow. He feels a blush creep across his cheeks, but he doesn't look away.
You hum in affirmation, a mischievous glint in your eyes. Your fingers dance across his leg, and he bites back a groan, his blood heating. "Very bad."
"Such as?"
"Well, if I told you, then it wouldn't be a surprise," you tease. "And where's the fun in that?"
"Sarad," he protests weakly, even though his brain is already supplying him with a thousand possibilities. All of them highly appealing. And, based on the look in your eyes, highly likely. "You are a terrible tease."
"How can I resist when I have the most handsome man in the galaxy right in front of me?" you murmur, leaning in to press a line of kisses along his jaw. He swallows, his hand gripping the edge of the counter tightly.
"Handsome?" he echoes, his voice cracking. You laugh, a soft, husky sound, and he shivers, his blood heating. "Since when have you called me that?"
"Since now," you answer, nipping at his earlobe. "Very handsome. And very charming. And very..."
"Very what?" he prompts. You're leaning into him, your breath warm against his neck, and his grip on the counter tightens.
"I was going to say sexy, but I decided against it." You press another kiss to his throat. "Figured you might pass out from the shock."
He scoffs, but his cheeks are burning. Tech glances at the doorway, then back at you. "Sarad, as much as I am enjoying this conversation, if anyone else walks in on us, I am at risk of becoming homicidal."
You laugh and lean back, giving him space. He feels his heartbeat begin to slow, but his face is still flushed, and his hands are shaking slightly. Maker, it's unfair how easily you affect him. He hadn't forgotten how intoxicating your presence was, but he's still surprised by how little effort it takes for you to make his heart race.
"I suppose we should get back to work," you sigh, though you don't sound particularly disappointed.
"I'm afraid so," he agrees.
You hop down from the counter, landing on your feet with a soft thud. Tech reaches out and brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face. Your eyes meet his, and he's struck by how beautiful you are.
"I love you, Tech," you say softly.
"I love you too," he whispers. He leans forward and captures your lips in a gentle kiss, a lingering caress. You let out a pleased hum and the warmth in his chest spreads, filling every inch of his body. He could spend the rest of his life kissing you and never grow tired of it.
When he finally pulls away, the look in your eyes makes him dizzy. He smiles, and his heart aches.
"Now, I really must get back to work. I will see you later, Sarad," he murmurs. Tech presses one last kiss to the corner of your mouth and steps away. "And, if the stars are aligned, I will be able to have you alone for a few minutes."
"I can only hope." You reach out and give his hand a squeeze. "See you later, Tech."
He watches as you leave the kitchen, and his gaze lingers on the door for several moments after you've gone. A part of him wants to follow you, to take your hand and lead you to his room and not leave until the two of you have caught up on a year's worth of lost time. 
But another, stronger part of him knows that he should stay. That, despite his longing, there are more important things to focus on. Like ensuring the people he loves are protected, and that the two of you have a future together. A future where you can be happy, and free, and safe. A future that will hopefully last longer than the fleeting moments he's experienced so far.
Tech sigh and turns back to the panel in the wall, his tools still lying where he had left them. His frustration is starting to ebb, and he's beginning to realize that, perhaps, the timing doesn't matter as much as he thought it did. You're back, and that's what's important. The details can wait. He's spent a lifetime waiting, and he can spend a little more. For you, it's worth it.
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As it turns out, the stars did not align. 
Over the course of the next several days, Tech managed to catch you for a total of fifteen minutes. Fifteen. Not nearly enough time to do more than steal a few kisses. Not nearly enough time to quench his growing desire. Not nearly enough time to enjoy the pleasure of being close to you. And not nearly enough time for anything except a reminder of what he's missing.
So, after nearly two weeks of stolen moments, fleeting glances, and interrupted plans, Tech has had enough. He's going to have time alone with you, or so help him, he's going to tear the house apart.
The timing couldn't be worse. He's still working on the security system, and Hunter is insisting that they take additional precautions. Which, unfortunately, means installing extra sensors and cameras and alarms, all of which are currently spread out over the kitchen table. And, while he understands the logic, and the necessity, he's beginning to lose his patience. Between the endless stream of visitors and the never-ending work, he's beginning to wonder if he's ever going to have the chance to have you alone.
And it's driving him mad.
Despite his best efforts, he's become desperate. And, if he's being completely honest with himself, a little pathetic. Every moment with you has left him aching for more, and it's beginning to affect his work. 
It's distracting, and frustrating, and it's only making him feel worse. So, in the interest of productivity, and sanity, and not wanting to spend the rest of his life regretting not seizing the opportunity, Tech has decided that he's going to spend some time alone with you. Even if it means tearing the house apart. Or, at the very least, making a scene.
So, the next morning, when his brothers and Omega leave for the market, Tech makes his move.
The moment the door closes, he grabs your hand and drags you to his room, shutting and locking the door behind you.
"Tech, what are you—"
"An hour. We have an hour before they return," he says quickly, cutting off your question. "I have calculated the time it will take them to walk to the market, and the time it will take them to purchase supplies, and the time it will take them to walk home. And, with the average travel time, we have an hour, give or take ten minutes. So, we are going to use that time wisely."
"And, by wisely, you mean—"
"Yes." He tugs at the collar of his shirt, feeling uncharacteristically flustered. "If that is agreeable to you."
You raise an eyebrow, and he can tell you're amused by his rambling, but you don't comment. Instead, you cross the room and stand in front of him, a teasing smile on your lips. "You know, you could have just said that you wanted to have sex."
"I'm aware," he replies. "But I was trying to be tactful."
"By dragging me into your room and talking about the amount of time it'll take your brothers to shop for vegetables?" you tease. "That's one way to do it."
He huffs and leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He knows you're teasing him, and he should probably take it in stride, but the truth is, he's a bit nervous. 
It's been a year since he's had the chance to be intimate with you, and, while the two of you have come close over the past few days, there has always been a moment where he was interrupted, or pulled away, or left feeling as if the timing wasn't quite right. 
And, despite the fact that this was his idea, and you clearly share his sentiment, he can't help but feel a sense of trepidation. Like maybe, if he pushes too hard, or moves too fast, you'll disappear again. Or, worse, he'll find out that this is all just a dream. And he'll wake up, alone, in his bunk on the Marauder, wondering if he'll ever see you again.
It's a ridiculous fear. He knows that. And, logically, he has no reason to think that this isn't real. But his heart can't seem to accept it, and the fear is still there, lingering in the back of his mind.
You must notice the change in his demeanor, because the smile slips from your face, and a note of concern enters your voice. "Tech, is everything okay?"
"Yes," he answers automatically. But then he pauses, considering the question. "Actually, no. I am not okay. I'm...overwhelmed."
"Overwhelmed?" you echo, a hint of worry in your tone. "In a bad way, or a good way?"
"Both," he admits. He takes a step closer to you, closing the gap between your bodies. His hands settle on your waist, and the warmth of your skin calms him. "I'm overwhelmed by how much I want this, and how much I missed you, and by how difficult it is to be close to you, and not have you."
"That makes two of us," you murmur, resting your head on his shoulder. "It's been a while since we had a chance to do this."
"It has," he says. He lets his eyes fall closed, relishing the sensation of having you close. It's a strange feeling, the sense of security and comfort he feels in your presence. Like everything is going to be alright. Like the world is as it should be. "And I've missed you. I've missed this."
"Me too," you whisper, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his neck. He shivers at the contact, and his arms tighten around you. "I didn't realize how much until I had the chance to do this again."
"It's been difficult, having to share you," he murmurs. The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, and he grimaces, realizing how petty they sound. "I know it's selfish, but—"
"No, it's not," you interject, pulling away so that your eyes can meet his. "You've been patient. I know it's hard, especially with everything that's happened."
"It has been hard," he admits, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I've wanted this for so long. Wanted you. And now that I have the chance, it's..." He trails off, trying to find the words. "Difficult. Frustrating. Overwhelming."
"But good," you say softly. "Right?"
"Very good," he affirms, his voice low. "I love you, Sarad."
"And I love you."
You lean in and capture his lips in a gentle kiss, your hands resting on his shoulders. Tech relaxes into the embrace, his arms encircling you, pulling you close. His lips part for yours, and you sigh against his mouth, your hands moving up, cupping his face. He can feel his heart begin to beat faster, his blood heating, but he doesn't move to deepen the kiss. Not yet. 
Instead, he savors the sensation, the feel of your lips against his, the taste of you, the scent of your skin. It's been so long since the two of you have had the chance to do this, to just exist, and he wants to memorize every second. Wants to imprint the memory of this moment on his mind. Even though the two of you have had years of practice, there is something about this moment that feels special. Something about this moment that feels different. And he wants to remember it.
When you finally pull away, you're breathless, your eyes dark with desire. Tech lets his gaze drift across your face, taking in the sight of you, the flush in your cheeks, the curve of your lips, the look in your eyes.
"Stars, I missed you," you whisper, your thumbs stroking his cheeks. Your voice is raw, husky, and the sound makes his heart stutter. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get here."
"I'm just glad you did," he replies, his hands moving down, gripping the hem of your shirt. "I'm glad I didn't have to wait any longer."
You let out a soft moan as his hands slip beneath the fabric, his fingers caressing your skin. He smirks, pleased by the reaction, and his grip tightens, his nails scraping against your hip. You whimper, and his lips find yours, hungrier this time. Greedier. More desperate.
The two of you move as one, a dance as old as time. Your hands tug at his clothes, pulling him towards the bed, and his mouth follows yours, refusing to let go. You stumble and fall, and the momentum carries you both onto the mattress. Tech's back hits the blankets, and you land on top of him, and the two of you laugh, the sound music to his ears. You're smiling, a brilliant, blinding grin, and he feels his chest ache.
"What is it?" you as, your voice breathless.
"Nothing," he answers, and the word comes out as a whisper. "I'm just...happy."
"Me too."
You lean down and capture his lips in a hungry kiss, and his hands slide up, his fingers tangling in your hair. You arch into him, and he gasps, his hips bucking up involuntarily. He can feel his cock start to harden, and his hands move down, gripping your ass tightly. You groan and grind against him, and his head falls back, a choked sound escaping his throat.
"Oh, fuck," you gasp. Your breath is hot against his neck, and your hands are everywhere, roaming his chest, his arms, his legs. Your lips press against his jaw, his throat, his collarbone.
"Sarad," he pants, his body straining.
"Yeah?"
"Get rid of the clothes," he commands. "Now."
You laugh, a soft, delighted sound, and you pull back, sitting on his thighs. Tech's eyes are glued to your body, watching as you tug at the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly, tantalizingly. His cock throbs as inch after inch of skin is revealed, and when you pull the garment off, he can't help but stare. 
You're beautiful, and his mind is filled with images of his hands exploring your body, his mouth worshipping your skin. Some of them are new, fantasies he's been nursing since you returned. Others are memories, long-forgotten moments of passion that were buried deep in his mind.
His hands move on instinct, his fingers brushing across your ribs, your stomach, along the edge of your bra. He reaches behind you and undoes the clasp, letting the fabric fall away. He watches, transfixed, as your nipples pebble, and his hands cup your breasts, squeezing gently. You let out a breathy moan, and his blood heat.
"Tech," you murmur, squirming under his touch. "I'm supposed to be getting you naked."
"So, get on with it," he says, his tone low. His thumbs brush over your nipples, and your hips jerk forward, a sharp gasp escaping your throat. "We're wasting time."
"Wasting time?" you ask, a smile playing at the corner of your mouth. "Or enjoying ourselves?"
"Both," he answers with a smirk.
You huff and lean down, your lips meeting his in a heated kiss. Your fingers find the fastenings of his vest, and you pull it off, tossing it to the floor. He helps you tug off his undershirt, and your hands immediately go to his chest, your nails scraping against his skin. He groans, and you bite his lip, sucking gently.
He grips your waist and flips you, switching positions. You gasp, and he can't help but chuckle at the surprise on your face.
"Tech," you start, a slight whine in your voice.
"What?" he asks innocently, his hands trailing down, undoing the button on your pants.
"I thought I was supposed to be the one in charge," you grumble, lifting your hips to help him pull off the fabric.
"You can be," he says. His eyes lock onto yours, and he holds your gaze, his hands stilling on your thighs. "After."
"After what?"
He doesn't answer. Instead, he leans down and presses a line of kisses along your jaw, down your neck, to your shoulder. He lingers at the juncture, biting and sucking, and you moan, your hips jerking up, seeking friction.
He chuckles, a low, raspy sound. His hand slips between your legs, his fingers brushing against the wet fabric of your panties. You whimper and push against his hand, and he can feel his cock throb in response.
"Please," you gasp, arching up, your hands gripping his shoulders. "I need—"
"Tell me," he commands, his fingers dipping below the fabric, tracing the outline of your cunt. You shudder, and he smirks.
"Tech," you breathe, and the sound of his name on your lips is intoxicating. He presses a kiss to your pulse point, and his fingers slide lower, teasing your entrance. You groan and roll your hips, and he can feel his cock stiffen, straining against his pants.
"Tell me," he repeats, his teeth grazing your skin.
"Tech," you whine, your hands reaching down, fumbling with his belt. "Fuck, please. I need you."
He smiles and pulls his hand away, leaving you trembling. You groan in frustration, but he ignores it. His fingers make quick work of his belt and his pants, and he strips them off, kicking the garments aside. Your hands immediately move to his briefs, pushing them down, freeing his cock. He sighs in relief as the pressure is released, and you reach down, your fingers curling around his length.
"Ah," he gasps, his hips thrusting involuntarily.
You smirk, a mischievous glint in your eye, and his hands find yours, pulling them away from his cock. He pins your wrists above your head, and you let out a soft whine.
"Tech," you complain, writhing beneath him.
"You're not the only one who can tease," he reminds you. He gathers both your wrists in one hand, and his other slides down, his fingers dancing across your ribs, along your stomach, to the band of your underwear. You squirm, and he presses a kiss to your forehead, a silent promise.
His fingers hook into the fabric and tug, and you lift your hips, helping him. The garment slides down, and he tosses it aside. He takes a moment to admire you, the sight of you spread out beneath him, your body flushed and wanting. His eyes drift to your core, and his breath catches in his throat.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "Absolutely perfect."
"Tech," you whisper, and there's a note of embarrassment in your voice. "Don't—"
Your breath hitches as his thumb finds your clit, and he smirks. You let out a frustrated groan, and he feels his ego swell.
"Do not tell me not to compliment you, Sarad," he says, his lips finding your ear. "Especially when you're like this. Especially when I'm the one who has done this."
"I know," you say, a soft moan escaping your throat. "It's just...embarrassing."
"It's true," he whispers. He presses a kiss to your neck, and his thumb makes lazy circles, his fingers drifting lower, teasing your entrance. "I can't help it."
"Tech, please," you gasp. "I don't want to talk. I just want—"
You break off with a cry as his finger pushes inside, and he lets out a low, satisfied hum. Your hips jerk up, and his hand tightens on your wrists. He can feel your pulse racing beneath his fingers, and the sight of you, the feeling of you, sends a rush of heat through his body.
"What was that?" he prompts, his tone low, teasing. He sets a slow pace, pumping his finger in and out, curling it slightly. You whine and arch into him, and he can't help but chuckle.
"You're a terrible tease," you grumble, breaking the kiss.
"I learned from the best," he replies. He slips another finger inside, and his palm rubs against your clit. Your hips buck up, and he increases his pace, fucking you faster, harder.
"Oh," you gasp, your eyes fluttering shut.
"Look at me," he commands, and you obey, forcing your eyes open. "I want to see you."
"Tech," you moan, your hands grasping at his shoulders. "I—"
Your words are cut off by a gasp as his fingers find that spot, and he knows he's found it when you start to shake. Your legs tremble, and your walls clench around him, and he can tell you're close. He's so caught up in watching the expressions play across your face, he doesn't realize how close until it's too late.
"Oh, fuck!"
Your orgasm takes him by surprise, and he freezes, his fingers still inside. He watches, transfixed, as you come undone, a series of gasps and moans escaping your throat. You're shaking, and your eyes are squeezed shut, and he can feel your pussy clenching around his fingers, a flood of warmth spilling out.
He pulls his hand away and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. When you finally stop trembling, he releases his hold on your wrists, and your hands immediately move to his chest, running across his skin.
"Oh, Tech," you whisper, a soft smile on your face.
"Good?"
"Very good," you agree. You push him onto his back and straddle his thighs, your hands tracing circles on his stomach. "Very, very good."
"Glad to hear it."
You hum softly, a contented sound, and lean forward, your lips finding his. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, savoring the sensation of your skin against his. It's been too long, and he's missed the simple pleasure of feeling you in his arms.
"I love you," he whispers, and his heart skips a beat. He hadn't expected the words to slip out, but he's not surprised. He's felt them for years, and they're always there, lingering in the back of his mind. And now that he's allowed to say them, that he's allowed to express them, it's as if they've become stuck in his throat, unable to be contained.
"And I love you," you murmur, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. You sit up, and the sight of you, perched above him, takes his breath away.
"Sarad," he starts, his voice catching. He clears his throat and tries again. "Are you—"
"Ready?" you finish. Your fingers trace the outline of his cock, and his breath hitches. "For you? Always."
"Always is an optimistic term," he quips, and you laugh, a low, husky sound.
"Always," you repeat. You reach down and wrap your fingers around his cock, stroking him gently. He bites back a moan, his hips thrusting involuntarily. "No matter what."
He doesn't respond. Instead, his hands find your waist, and his grip tightens, urging you forward. You comply, shifting closer, lining him up. He can feel the tip of his cock press against the warm, wet heat of your cunt, and his heart skips a beat.
When he finally enters you, the world stops. It's not the first time, but it's no less powerful, no less breathtaking. You sink down, taking him inch by inch, and the warmth, the tightness, the rightness of it all nearly overwhelms him. He's not sure how long it takes for him to fully enter you, but it feels like an eternity. And, when he finally bottoms out, the two of you moan in unison.
"Stars," he breathes as his fingers dig into your hips. "You're—"
"I know," you murmur, rolling your hips.
He lets out a strangled gasp, his hands gripping you tighter. His eyes lock onto yours, and the world narrows, everything fading away except for the two of you. This moment, this moment that has been building for so long. That has been haunting his dreams and fantasies. That has been his lifeline.
The two of you move as one, a familiar dance, the steps practiced over the years. But, this time, there is an urgency, a hunger, that wasn't there before. An intensity that's new and thrilling and terrifying all at once. He's not sure why, but he can feel it, can see it in your eyes. And, somehow, it makes everything better.
Because, when he's with you, he's whole. He's complete. And, for a brief moment, the galaxy is as it should be.
You lean forward and capture his lips in a searing kiss, and he responds, his tongue sliding against yours. Your hands move to his shoulders, and Tech sits up, pulling you flush against his chest. You moan, and his hands move down, cupping your ass, encouraging you to move.
You roll your hips, and his head falls back, a strangled gasp escaping his lips. You're hot and tight around him, and he can feel his control start to fray. He grits his teeth and fights the urge to come, wanting to draw out the pleasure for as long as possible.
"Tech," you breathe, your forehead resting against his.
"Yes?"
"I want—"
"What do you want?" he asks, his voice rough
"You," you murmur, a smile on your face. "All of you."
He doesn't need to ask what you mean. He already knows. He can read the question in your eyes, can feel it in the way your body moves against his. Tech nods, and you kiss him, hard.
He lets out a groan, and his hands grip you tighter as he feels a warmth spreading through him, starting at the base of his skull and radiating down. It's a strange feeling, but not unfamiliar. A distant memory, long forgotten. He closes his eyes and allows the sensation to take over, trusting you, knowing that you'll guide him
When the world comes back into focus, the two of you are joined in more ways than one.
Tech can feel you in every part of his mind, a soft, warm presence, pulsing and throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He can sense your thoughts, can feel your emotions, can see the images flickering through your mind. 
He's overwhelmed, and dizzy, and euphoric, and, for a brief moment, it's almost too much. He gasps, his heart racing, and he buries his face in your shoulder, trying to ground himself.
"Tech," you murmur, a note of concern in your voice.
"Good," he pants. His eyes lock onto yours, and his mouth quirks into a smile. "Very, very good."
You grin and press a kiss to his lips, and he can't help but laugh, the sound muffled against your mouth. The joy he feels is heightened, bent and reflected back at him, and he's not sure where the emotion ends and yours begins. It doesn't matter. Not really. Not when he's so wrapped up in you.
"You're thinking about this too much," you tease, nipping at his bottom lip.
"My apologies," he mutters. He tilts his head up and catches your mouth in a kiss. His hands squeeze your ass, and he gives a small thrust of his hips, earning a low groan from the back of your throat. "Better?"
"Much," you murmur, arching into him.
Tech smiles and deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours. His fingers dig into your skin, and his hips rock forward, a shallow thrust. Your legs wrap around his waist, and he can feel you pull him closer, your body molding to his.
Your mind is still connected, and he can feel everything, every thought, every sensation, every emotion. He can see the images flickering through your mind, fragments of memory, fantasies, and desires. And he can't help but share the ones that play in his own mind.
The two of you move in sync, a steady rhythm that quickly grows frantic, the tension building between you. Tech can feel the pleasure, both his and yours, and the pressure starts to build, the coil of arousal in his gut threatening to snap.
Your arms wrap around his shoulders, and his grip tightens, pulling you closer, desperate to feel every inch of your skin against his. The pace becomes frenzied, and your mind is filled with the sound of his name, a litany of praise and curses and sighs.
"Sarad," he groans, his fingers digging into your flesh.
"I know," you pant, your voice strained. "Tech, I—"
"Do it," he commands, his voice rough. His fingers find your clit, and he starts to rub, coaxing you higher. "I want to feel you."
"Stars, I love you," you gasp, and he can feel your pleasure, hot and sharp, echoing through his mind.
"And I love you," he murmurs. He presses a kiss to your temple, and the warmth in his chest spreads, filling every part of his body. "Now, come for me."
Your back arches, and your hips jerk forward, a choked cry escaping your lips. Tech can feel you fall apart, and he's quick to follow, his body tensing as his climax rushes through him. He bites his lip, a strangled moan slipping out, and his hands grip you tighter, the only thing anchoring him in the moment.
He can't tell how long it lasts. Can't tell where his pleasure ends and yours begins. It lasts forever and yet no time at all, and when the two of you finally come down, he's left shaking.
"Holy shit," you murmur, your voice breathless.
"I concur."
His eyes lock onto yours, and a wave of affection washes over him, the emotion amplified by the lingering effects of your connection. Tech leans forward and captures your lip in a gentle kiss, savoring the moment.
He holds you close, his arms wrapped around your waist, his head resting on your chest. You sigh, a contented sound, and the feeling is echoed in his own heart.
"That was..."
"Something else," he finishes. He smiles, and the corners of his eyes crinkle. "You are...extraordinary."
"So are you," you say softly, and he can feel a wave of love and admiration wash over him. He closes his eyes and relaxes into the sensation, allowing it to fill him, to overwhelm him.
It's a strange feeling, being so close to someone. Knowing them so completely. But, despite the strangeness, it's not an unpleasant one. In fact, it's quite the opposite. It's exhilarating and exciting and, if he's honest, a little intoxicating.
And, for a brief moment, he wishes that it could always be like this. That the two of you could remain joined, minds and bodies and souls. That the two of you could always be so close, so connected.
Tech smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek, and the two of you sit there, wrapped in each other's arms, content to simply exist. The warmth between you is comfortable, comforting, and he can't help but wonder how he lived without it. How he survived so long without the simple pleasure of having you by his side.
After a few minutes, the spell is broken by the front door opening and closing and a chorus of voices.
"Tech?" Hunter calls from the kitchen. "You in here?"
"Shit," you mutter, pushing away as a pair of footsteps approach the bedroom. Tech's heart leaps into his throat, and his hands fly to your waist, keeping you from leaving the bed.
"Hunter," he calls, his voice strained. "Give us a minute."
There's a pause, and then the sound of a sigh.
"Yeah, I figured," Hunter grumbles, and the words are followed by a chorus of snickers.
Tech scowls and rolls his eyes, and you can't help but laugh. He glares at you, and you try to school your expression into a more neutral one, but he can see the amusement dancing in your eyes.
Hunter's footsteps fade, and the two of you sit up, the movement synchronized. You smile, and his lips twitch in response, a ghost of a grin.
"I suppose we should get dressed," you murmur, running your fingers through his hair.
"Unfortunately."
He leans forward and captures your lips in a soft kiss, and you respond, arching against him. Your hands grip his shoulders, and he pulls you closer, deepening the embrace. The feeling of connection lingers, a faint echo, and he finds himself drawn to you, like a magnet.
When you finally pull away, the two of you are breathing heavily, and the sounds from the kitchen are forgotten. Tech's hands move to your waist, and he kisses the corner of your mouth, his tongue flicking out, tasting the sweat on your skin.
"We should join the others," you mumble, though you don't sound particularly enthused by the idea.
"I suppose," he sighs.
Tech releases his hold, and you climb off him, a soft sigh escaping your lips. He watches as you gather your clothes, a wry smile playing at the corners of his mouth. You look so beautiful, with your cheeks flushed and your lips swollen, and his hands itch to reach out and pull you back to him.
"There is a house for sale, on the edge of the village," he says as he moves to the edge of the bed, reaching for his pants. "It's secluded, and has a garden."
"Sounds nice," you say as you tug on your shirt.
"It is," he replies, his fingers fumbling with his belt. "It's small, and the roof is in need of repair, but I think we can make it work."
"We?"
He glances up, and the smile falls from his face. You're looking at him, an eyebrow raised, and his mind races, trying to decipher the meaning of your expression.
"Yes, we," he answers, a hint of hesitation in his voice. "Unless, you would prefer—"
"Oh, Tech," you say softly. You abandon the rest of your clothing and cross the room, throwing your arms around his neck. He stiffens, caught off guard by the sudden display of affection, but he quickly pulls you into his lap. Your lips find his, kissing him deeply, and he can't help but smile.
"Was that a yes?"
"Of course," you murmur. You pull back, and your hands move up to cup his face. "I'd love that."
"Good," he whispers, leaning into your touch. "Then it's settled. Once the house is ready, we'll move in. And then we can finally have some privacy."
"Privacy," you repeat. The corners of your mouth quirk upwards. "I like the sound of that."
"As do I," he says, his hands trailing down, gripping your hips. "Very much.”
You smile and lean forward, capturing his lips in a kiss. Tech relaxes into the embrace, relishing the feeling of your body against his. Of the warmth and comfort and love that flows between you.
When the two of you finally break apart, he rests his forehead against yours, a soft sigh escaping his lips.
"What did I do to deserve you?" he breathes, his eyes fluttering closed.
"You were you," you reply, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Kind, and sweet, and brilliant. And handsome, and charming...and sexy."
He chuckles, and his fingers squeeze your waist, pulling you closer. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For this," he says, his hands moving up, cupping your face. He looks into your eyes, his heart swelling. "For coming back. For loving me."
"Tech..."
"Thank you," he repeats, and the words come out as a whisper. "I don't know what I would have done without you."
You don't respond, not right away. Instead, you take his hand and press a kiss to his palm, a gentle, reassuring gesture. When you finally speak, the words are soft, and filled with promise.
"You'll never have to find out."
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risingoftime · 1 year ago
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A NIGHT TO REMEMBER ⟡ HOBIE BROWN
Hobie hadn’t realized that he butt-dialled your number while fantasizing about how it would feel to fuck you. In the midst of it all, he realizes that he might have an audience.
a/n: cause i can’t get him out of my head₊˚ෆˎˊ˗ 18+
part i | part ii
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Hobie’s life had been in a constant state of unrest. If he wasn't fulfilling his duties as Spiderman, he was practicing and performing with his band Spider-Slayers. It had been a late night, and the only thing that brought him to peace was you. He found himself thinking about you more than he would like to admit. He had tried his best to keep his distance, knowing all too well what happens when people get entangled with him. But Hobie couldn't stop envisioning your sultry voice and soft lips. He wondered how your perfect frame would look bent over, pussy exposed all for him. Hobie was curious about how you would sound while getting fucked, if you moaned or whimpered when cumming and if he could make you do both. Shifting in his bed, Hobie became increasingly aware of his growing erection.
His dick throbbed at the thought of you and was already hard in his boxers. Hobie had never felt a desire as strong as he had for you. His hand releases his boner from the constricting fabric, already sensitive with need. Hobie wrapped his hand around his dick, pumping himself vigorously at the thought of fucking you. His precum acts as a lubricant while he imagines how your pussy would feel taking him in. Oh, the things that he would do. Hobie’s hips made languid movements, keeping pace with each thrust into his hand.
“Oh fucking hell, you feel so good.” His lips remained parted, letting out a breathy moan. Hobie visualized his cock deep inside you, your pussy taking it all too well and milking every last drop of Hobie’s cum. “Just like that,” he gasped. His toes began to curl from the image of your eyes rolling back and begging him not to stop. You're so beautiful it pains him to slow his palms from bobbing up and down his thick length.
Hobie’s hips begin to stutter, and his core tightens as he grows closer to orgasm. His free hand grips the sheets as Hobie’s body tenses at the tingling feeling that erupts. Opening his eyes slightly, Hobie watches as his dick jerks with each cum shot, soiling his boxers and rubbing the creamy white liquid against his skin. The noises from the friction between his hand and dick make wet slapping sounds. Hobie’s breath hitched as his body trembled at the mercy of the thought of cumming inside of you.
Once he could get ahold of himself, he washed his hands and cleaned the mess he had made. Hobie hadn’t realized how slowly time has passed when fantasizing about you. Looking around his room briefly, he could not locate his phone. He heard a lewd voice coming out from the sheets on his bed. Throwing the fabric around, Hobie found his phone had called your number by mistake. Your heavy sighs and whimpers ricochet through the phone speakers like a sweet melody to Hobie. It was evident what you were doing on the other side of the call. His dick was already pulsating and hardening. Unable to remain quiet for long, Hobie cleared his throat.
“Hello, love.”
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kakitetan · 3 months ago
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Yandere! Glisten x GN! Reader | His One And Only Desire
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Synopsis: Toodles was helping Dandy with some work in the museum and gets lost. You decide to help Rodger find her, which inspires other toons to help find her. Along with all this, one by one, everyone gets infected by ichor. You're the last one, and you find Glisten.
WARNING: Contains mentions of gore, obsession, stalking, murder, torture, and child endangerment. Your discretion is advised.
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You were a toon, and so were your friends. There were eight, then seven, then six. Then one, you. You were the last one, you regret it. You should've listened, but with that optimistic mindset, everyone had disbelief. You made a mistake, you didn't even know what death was before this, and that reflection of innocence was shattered. Staring at your reflection in the haunting elevator, was a constant reminder of how this all began...
"What? Toodles is missing?" You repeated, "I'm afraid so... She went to help Dandy with some machines. I have to go look for her." Rodger spoke, and you felt for him. Toodles meant a lot to him, he was practically a father figure. Plus, she must be so scared! The museum is so big!
"I'll come too!" You said, "Why, I might as well tag along." Glisten spoke up, inspiring your other friends to tag along as well.
You never saw it coming...
"Great! I can help supply you guys, why now there's nothing to fear! Toodles will be just fine!" Dandy said.
Why was it that Dandy was never worried in the first place, he just grinned at you and your friends. All he wanted in exchange for his help, were some tapes and supplying the museum with an odd black fluid. Dandy always had a smile on his face, no matter what the situation. He seemed almost amused by the difficult situations you seemed to constantly find yourself and the rest of the toons in. It was unnerving, the way he could remain unruffled when everyone else was in a state of conflict, and his confidence bordered on arrogance. With his relaxed attitude, he was the star of the show. He acted like it too... All he wanted in return for his help was some tapes and the occasional delivery of a strange black fluid to supply his museum's exhibits.
On the first floor, Boxten found Toodle's plush. Toodle's beloved plush toy lay abandoned on the floor, its battered stuffing peeking out of a tear in its side. Boxten paused to pick it up, feeling a pang of sympathy for its owner. The worn edges and faded fabric hinted at many nights of comfort and companionship.
"She would never leave this lying around," Boxten spoke, giving the plush to Rodger. He had no words.
We had never experienced anything like fear, grief, or anything like that. We had lived a life of privilege, shielded from the harsher realities of the world. The closest thing to sadness we ever experienced was Shrimpo's bullying. That was tame compared to the sinking feeling of loss, and fear. It was strong, it took the words right out of everyone's mouths. But nothing could have prepared us for the feeling that washed over us at that moment - a heavy, sinking sensation that left us all breathless and afraid. We stood there, frozen and speechless, as the realization of what was happening slowly sank in.
When we got back to the elevator, Poppy tried to lighten the mood. Poppy, ever the optimist, attempted to alleviate the tension by making a light-hearted remark as we gathered in the elevator.
Boxten's voice cut through the silence as he voiced his concern. "I'm scared maybe we missed something on the last floor," Boxten spoke.
"Boxteeenn! You worry WAAAAYYYYY too much! Everything's gonna be okay!" She cheered.
Boxten's voice cracked as he countered Poppy's question. "We didn't check everywhere, what if there's something important we missed?" His words hung in the air, the fear of the unknown hanging over him heavier than the silence.
"You're doing it again!" Poppy replied, causing some of the toons in the elevator to laugh.
The next floor took us by surprise as we came face to face with copies of ourselves. They were aggressive and unsettling. Twisted Boxten let out a distressing, gurgling sound as if he were submerged in water. It was a chilling noise that lingered in your mind long after the encounter. Your arm was still scarred by the arms that grew out of his box.
Out of everyone to take it harshly, it was Boxten.
"I can't-- can't do this!" He was pacing in the elevator.
"Boxten... It's okay." Poppy spoke, placing her hand on his shoulder
"No! It's not, Poppy!" Boxten snapped, slapping her hand away. She gasped.
Poppy stared at him, her eyes brimming with tears, reflecting the deep well of emotions within her.
"Alright, enough. It's hard for everyone, let's just stay calm. I'm sure Dandy will know what to do." Rodger spoke, it calmed everyone down, but that was only temporary.
We never did get an explanation...
"What? Monsters? What are you guys talking about?" Dandy spoke.
"There's been monsters of us, explain yourself," Glisten leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms in a display of defiance as he spoke.
"Now now, there are no such things as monsters. That's only in nightmares, right, Astro?" Dandy replied to the group, Astro held up his blanket to cover his face. Astro didn't like being put in the spotlight.
"Why don't you all give me the tapes, and I'll give you some candy in exchange?" Dandy spoke.
And before we knew it, it became a cycle. A repeating cycle.
We lost Poppy first.
"Boxten!" She yelled, trying to reach out for him. He saw a twisted version of himself, grabbing Poppy, and then eating her alive.
"BOXTEN! HELP ME! IT HURTS! BOXTEN! HELP ME!" She screamed, blood filling her lungs. Her screams became more gurgled, he watched in horror.
His little legs trembled in fear before he ran off from her mutilated body.
After that encounter, Boxten fell silent. It seemed as though he had relinquished his voice, leaving the air heavy with his unspoken words. The departure of Poppy and Boxten only seemed to thicken the atmosphere.
Before the elevator door opened, Goob took out a box of bandages and bandaged your cuts. He carefully began to unwrap them and apply the adhesive strips to my injured wrists, wrapping them with a gentle and practised touch. His hand slumped back and forth to each one, he always had a bit of difficulty controlling his arms.
"I couldn't help but notice your arm was bleeding." Goob smiled at you, you smiled back.
"Thanks, Goob! You're the best." You spoke with a grin.
We tried to defend ourselves from the twisted versions of our friends, but it became clear that they were stronger, faster, and more dangerous than us. Every blow we landed was met with a counterattack, every dodge was followed by a swift and brutal strike. We fought desperately, trying to keep them at bay, but the twisted copies seemed almost untouchable. Our every move was countered, and our attacks met with swift and brutal responses. Every time one of us gained an advantage, the twisted versions would quickly find a way to turn the tide back in their favour.
"It's okay! I'll distract them." Goob offered, carrying the line of twisteds. His self-sacrifice helped keep many toon's fear at bay, however, that didn't last long.
Goob left next...
Astro found his mutilated body, Astro's normally shy demeanour was replaced by a quiet resolve as he stumbled upon the mangled body of his friend. Astro closed Goob's eyes, a silent tribute to the fallen toon, before forcing himself to move on and continue onward, dragging his blanket along.
The elevator became quieter after those three were gone... The air felt thicker than ever before. The elevator ride to the next floor was sombre and still, the loss of our friends weighing heavily on everyone left. The air felt thick and oppressive like a heavy blanket suffocating any attempts at lighthearted conversation. Every glance at each other felt like a constant reminder of the reality of the situation.
As everyone diligently worked in quiet concentration, you found yourself engrossed in turning a pipe handle. Lost in the repetitive motion, your heart leapt into your throat and you were brought crashing back to reality, you were startled out of my trance by a sudden, piercing shriek. The ear-piercing shriek took us all by surprise, jolting us out of our thoughts and back into reality. No one spoke aloud, but the shared look of alarm and confusion was enough to tell me that we all felt the same way - startled and uncertain as to the source of the noise. Footsteps pitter-pattered into the room.
"GOOB! You're back! I just knew you were okay!" That sounded like Scraps..
You walked out of the room you were in, into the large corridor. Scraps was running over to the twisted version of her brother.
"SCRAPS, NO!" The words ripped out of your throat like a furious roar, and you were filled with urgency as you saw her charging towards danger. Your voice was raw from the force of my yell, and though it burned your throat, you couldn't let her put herself in harm's way.
Goob picked up Scraps, squeezing her mercilessly, tightening.
"No! NO!" You yelled as Goob grabbed Scraps and squeezed her mercilessly.
"GOOB! It's too tight! You're hurting me! IT H--" Scraps yelled, her little body straining under the pressure. Scraps' screams were abruptly silenced by a sickening SPLAT. Her blood, flesh, and cartilage stained the walls. Scraps of flesh splatted onto you, but your hand was still reached out for her. Her body parts fly off from the impact, hitting every surface imaginable.
But Scraps didn't exist anymore.
As you took a step back, Goob appeared unfazed by the fact that he had just taken the life of his sister. With a chilling calmness, he extended his arms towards you, and in a panic, you turned and sprinted back towards the elevator, desperate to escape the terrifying scene. The doors close behind you with a metallic clank, providing a momentary reprieve from the horror that awaits outside. But even as you attempt to distance yourself from the carnage, the echo of Scraps' final moments lingers.
One by one, everyone left this world.
Everyone except for you, you aren't even sure why you're still going. In a trance-like state, you exit out of the elevator. You had been alone for a while, so suddenly hearing a familiar voice speak caught you off guard.
"D-Did I just hear someone?" Glisten spoke.
You never ran so fast, running over to him. Your heart pounds fiercely in your chest as you approach Glisten. Your speed slowed down as you saw his appearance, half of his face was broken, and his hands were tied by his belt. Half of his face is disfigured beyond recognition, and Glisten's torso is mutilated., a mangled mess. He looks up at you with vacant, hollow eyes, the light within them extinguished forever. Blood trickles slowly from the gaping wounds, staining the floor beneath him. Despite the horrific sight before you, you can't help but feel a pang of pity for this once graceful man reduced to have such a horrific fate.
You felt vomit in your throat, tasting a bit of the candy you had earlier. The sight of ichor instantly made you sick to your stomach. Causing your stomach to churn violently. Your body recoils instinctively, refusing to accept the sight before you. Ichor, the thick, dark fluid of life, spills from Glisten's wounds.
His voice, once commanding and confident, now comes out as a weak plea. "Oh, it's you.." he murmurs, barely above a whisper. "Stop! Please don't run!" Glisten begged, stumbling towards you, his movements slow and laboured. One of his eyes is a ghastly shade of pink, the other staring blankly ahead.
You nodded, showing any fear wasn't a good idea. This was scarier for him than it was for you. "What.. What happened?" You asked him. Yet, despite everything, you extend a sliver of compassion, reaching out to offer some semblance of comfort amidst the horror that was around the both of you.
"I was attacked earlier, I found myself here. I'm so glad you're here, Y/N. I don't want to be alone.. Please... Don't leave me, please stay." He begged.
You nodded again, albeit lacking confidence. You didn't want to say it, but you knew what you had to do. "Don't worry, I'm not hurt at all. I'll keep you company. I just have to do these pipes." You said to him, reassuring Glisten.
"Alright.." He responded.
You navigate the dimly lit corridor, your steps deliberate and sure. Reaching out, you grasp the cold metal of the first pipe, twisting the handle firmly. The pipe groans in protest, releasing a torrent of ichor that cascades downwards.
"How have you managed to avoid getting infected?" Glisten asked.
That perked your attention, it was a hard question to answer, due to his own circumstances. You felt your mouth dry up.
".. I'm very careful." You responded, trying to play it safe. You flashed him a smile, that faded as you turned back your attention to the pipe.
"That's smart.. But I believe even the most cautious people would break under these circumstances." Glisten said.
You glanced at him, thinking. You wondered if this was even your Glisten or some kind of clone. In all honesty, you were going mad. This was hell. How could you not tell the difference anymore?
"Why haven't you given up yet?" Glisten asked.
You turned the pipe handle in thought, before turning your head in thought. "I think I have, I'm just bad at showing it." You answered back.
"Nonsense, Y/N. That doesn't sound like something someone who has given up would say." Glisten responded.
You were just trying to be honest, "It’s true, I can’t accomplish my dreams if I have no one to share it with, and.. Everyone is depleting so fast. But.. I still continue to do these pipes. I don’t know why I do it, ever since I’ve been here, I feel like I’ve been out of touch with myself. I’ve been running on adrenaline." You expressed, gripping the pipe harder. This whole time, you were just trying to do it for Toodles, but now you have no one to live for, no one to continue for. You've just been working in a trance-like state.
It made no sense to you.
Glisten listened to your confession, his single red eye reflecting a depth of empathy that belies his twisted exterior.
"You're doing this for yourself and for those who came before," he says gently, stepping closer as if offering comfort despite his monstrous appearance.
It made you uneasy, but you didn't step away. This is one of your friends and the only one you have left...
You fake a smile, "Mhm." You nodded.
Glisten stared at you, admiring you. Feeling a sense of connection with you, Glisten allows himself to relax slightly. For the first time in what felt like ages, he allowed himself to open up.
"There used to be so much life here," he murmurs softly, looking around at the desolate lobby. "People laughing, music playing..."
A melancholic smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he remembers happier times.
"But now... it's just us." He said rather quietly.
A chill ran down your spine at that sentence alone. You never felt so unsafe with someone you trusted before. You catch a glint of your reflection in his mirror, you make your way to another pipe. He followed you like a lost puppy. You struggle to come up with something to say in response, trying to hide your fear.
"That may be true, but it can always happen again. Even if things seem rather dull right now, it doesn’t have to stay that way forever." You walked over to another pipe, turning the handle, letting the ichor pour into the pipe. Just what was this stuff anyway, and why does Dandy need it so badly?
Watching you guide him towards the pipe, Glisten can't help but admire your determination. Despite all odds, they refuse to give up. "Even amidst this chaos," he whispers, gazing down at the swirling ichor filling the pipe. "You find ways to bring back some semblance of normalcy." His pink eye follows every movement of your hand as it manipulates the pipe handle. "It's... inspiring," he admits quietly, feeling strangely uplifted by their actions.
This didn't sound like Glisten at all, maybe he's just saying this out of fear, or maybe even regret.
"I guess so, I’m not really sure why. Even before all of this, Shrimpo used to bully me for it. He said I was just being stubborn. I think it’s pretty funny at times, kinda like now. I’m not stupid, I see what’s going on around me, but I believe that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I try to think that way anyway.. I have nothing else to lose." You confess to him, you were being honest.
Glisten listens intently as you share your thoughts, a flicker of respect igniting within him. The resilience and optimism in their words strike a chord deep within his own psyche.
"You know, I never thought of it that way," he muses, his gaze drifting to the floor as he ponders your perspective. "Maybe holding onto hope, no matter how slim, is what keeps us sane." He said, which was a huge contrast to his appearance.
You look at him again, as he stares at you with fear and admiration.
Slowly, he raises his head to meet your eyes, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "If anyone can find that light, it's you," he says rather sincerely, his voice carrying a note of encouragement. "And I'll be right here beside you, trying to do the same."
That caught you off guard again, as much as you wanted to bring him with you, you couldn't. Maybe he was saying all of this as a means of survival.
As you stood there silently in awe, the pipe slowly filled with a dark, viscous ichor. You then proceeded to explore the expansive corridors, scanning for additional pipes. He followed you silently, fidgeting with the bonds on his wrists.
Observing your silent resolve, Glisten watches you move around the room, searching for more pipes to fill. A strange warmth begins to spread throughout his chest — a sensation he hasn't felt in quite some time.
"Hey," he calls out after a moment, "Do you want some help?"
As you paused in your tracks, his words echoed in your mind, stirring up a sense of unease. Despite feeling unsettled, you made a conscious effort to conceal your internal turmoil. You managed to mask your inner thoughts with a smile as you turned to face him. "Oh come on, Glisten! The last person that should be working is you, you’re hurt. Focus on resting, okay?" You choked out.
Glisten pauses, considering your words carefully. They carry a weight that he hadn't expected, stirring up emotions within him that were long buried.
"I appreciate your concern," he replies, his tone sincere despite the slight edge of frustration seeping through. "But right now, I'd rather focus on helping you."
You didn't look at him, staring at his reflection through the pipe. He didn't blink, he stared at you.
He stepped closer to you. "And besides..." A soft sigh escapes from between his lips as he gestures vaguely around them at the desolation surrounding them. "...What else do we have left to do?"
"Pipes, pipes, and more pipes. But really, I got this. Maybe if you rest, your body can heal too. So don’t worry about it, okay? I got this." You walked over to the next pipe, turning the handle. Your smile faded when he wasn’t looking.
Noticing your subtle change in demeanour, Glisten remains silent for a moment. He watches them work, admiring their dedication while also sensing their underlying unease. Glisten's eye narrows slightly as he notices the shift in your demeanour, a flicker of understanding dawning on his battered face. He observes you working, his gaze lingering on the focused determination etched across your features. At the same time, he senses the unease simmering just below the surface, a tension that threatens to erupt at any moment. The air grows heavy with unspoken questions and fears, the silence between you two becoming almost palpable.
"Are you alright?" he finally asks, breaking the silence. "It seems like something's bothering you."
His gaze lingers on your face, searching for signs of distress that might indicate otherwise.
"You don't have to keep smiling all the time, you know." he continues gently. "We're in this together." He spoke
There it was again, together. He must've been delirious or something, or delusional. Maybe both! You weren't taking him with you.
".. No, I’m just listening for any noise that may cause concern. The darkness.. I’m afraid of the dark, so I’ve been having to rely on my other senses for comfort in these situations." You confess.
Hearing your admission, Glisten feels a pang of sympathy. Despite everything, their vulnerability touches him deeply.
"That must be hard." He acknowledges, his voice softening even further. But you're braver than you realize. Moving closer, he offers a comforting touch on your shoulder. "Just remember," he insists firmly, 
"We're not alone here. And I promise, I'll do whatever I can to keep you safe." He murmured darkly.
You faked another smile, "Thanks Glisten." The pipe finished filling up, moving on to the next one, the last one. Turning the handle to fill it up.
As you move onto the final pipe, Glisten finds himself drawn to watch them. There's an almost hypnotic quality to their movements, their dedication serving as a stark contrast against the eerie stillness of their surroundings. As you move toward the last pipe, Glisten's attention becomes fixated on your every movement. Something is captivating about your unwavering commitment, a relentless pursuit of survival that contrasts sharply with the oppressive quietude of your environment. His battered form leans against the wall, watching intently as you twist the final handle, triggering another wave of water that cascades down.
"Almost done," he murmurs appreciatively, "And then we can rest."
If only he knew that statement was far from the truth...
A faint glimmer of satisfaction shines in his red eye as he takes in the sight of all three pipes filled with ichor. The sight of the three pipes brimming with ichor elicits a minuscule flash of satisfaction in Glisten's single functional eye.
"But until then," he adds with a tired smile, "I'm just glad you'll stay with me forever, Y/N."
You stayed silent, filling the pipe with ichor, twisting and turning the handle. You didn't want to break him, not now. You knew it was inevitable, but you had to focus on your survival. The silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating, broken only by the rhythmic sound of the ichor-filled water gurgling through the pipes. You maintain your focus, twisting and turning the handles with mechanical precision, your mind numb to the grisly nature of your task. There's a certain detached efficiency in your actions, a desperate attempt to cling to sanity in the face of unimaginable horror. You know what must come next, but for now, you push those thoughts aside, channelling all your energy into the singular goal of survival.
Observing your focused concentration, Glisten allows himself a moment of quiet contemplation. Their steadfast commitment to making the best out of such dire circumstances is nothing short of remarkable.
"Incredible," He cooed. He steps closer, his presence offering a silent testament to their shared struggle.
As your hands leave the wheel, the reality of your situation crashes over you like a tidal wave. You can't bring yourself to meet Glisten's gaze, the shame and guilt gnawing at your insides like ravenous twisted. Your eyes drift downward, fixating on the grimy floor beneath your feet, as if searching for answers in the cracks and stains. The silence between you two is deafening, a physical manifestation of the chasm that has opened up, threatening to swallow you whole. It was all eating at you.
"Glisten?" You asked him, your voice wavered.
Startled by the unexpected sound of his name, Glisten snaps back to attention. His heart skips a beat as he locks his one eye with you, their gaze heavy with unspoken questions and concerns.
"Yes?" He responds softly, leaning in slightly to better hear them. "What is it?"
Your head perked up, turning your head to face him.
".. I think you’re incredible. You do defy beauty. Now, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, alright? I’ll whack them if they try." You said, trying to add confidence to your tone. What was left of your sanity, and confidence felt like it was thrown out the window when the light turned green. Suddenly, a loud shatter noise filled the room. The ichor was consuming Glisten, your unease turned into fear in an instant. Your initial unease morphs into sheer, primal fear as you watch in horror the ichor begin its relentless assault on Glisten's ravaged form. He recoils instinctively, his body tensing as the corrosive substance envelops him, seeping into his wounds and devouring his flesh with alarming speed. Panic sets in, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he thrashes about, desperately trying to escape the inexorable grip of the ichor. Glisten instinctively recoils. As the ichor engulfs him, panic surges through his system.
"H-HELP ME! DON'T L-LEAVE ME!" He stammers out, struggling to maintain control as the familiar intoxicating rush of the infection takes hold. His words trail off into a guttural growl as he loses himself to the transformation.
With a burst of adrenaline-fueled desperation, you sprint towards the elevator, your heart pounding in your chest like a war drum. Behind you, Glisten's frantic cries echo through the corridors, each plea slicing through your already fractured composure. Every step you take seems to drag behind you, weighed down by the guilt and fear that threaten to consume you whole. The chase is a race against time and your own failing sanity.
His one and only desire.
Feeling your retreat, Glisten lets out a low, menacing snarl. His remaining eye blazes with an unholy glow as he struggles to retain his sanity. you crash into the wall trying to make your way to the elevator, causing him to bump into it, trying to catch you. Your head was dizzy, running, sprinting to the elevator!
You ran into the elevator, chasing the elevator doors, you knew at that point, that wasn’t Glisten speaking, but rather the infection of ichor. He was already gone.
As you back away, Glisten's form begins to contort under the influence of the ichor. His yellow appearance darkens, taking on a sickly hue as his once-toon features morph into something far more monstrous.
You jump into the elevator, as the elevator doors slam shut, sealing you inside, you tumble forward, your body crashing against the cold metal walls. You manage to pull yourself upright, turning your head to catch one final glimpse of Glisten's agonized form. His crimson eye blazes with pain and desperation, reaching out his arm to you. The door shut all the way, crushing his arm. You heard his guttural scream of agony, the elevator began to ascend. It pulled his arm down, and he screamed in agony, choking on his spit and the ichor that consumed him. His skin was being crushed by the weight of the wall and elevator, it became too much. The sound of his flesh and bones cracking filled the air, before completely detaching itself from Glisten. His arm lay on the floor, in a pool of ichor.
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AUTHORS NOTES: Soooo I'm completely aware this came out of no where, and literally no one asked for this, buuuuttttt I decided to do it anyways, because MAN I love my Roblox games. I also just couldn't get this idea out of my head, hrrrmmmmm!! I know I know, "TAN WHAT ABOUT YOUR SEBASTIAN SERIES!! IM WAITING?!?!?!???!!" YEA I KNOW. I KNOW. But, I did want to write something new, something FRESH as some squids may sayy. So yea! Enjoy!!
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osmanthus-wine-addiction · 19 days ago
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09 Edging
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Zhongli x Reader / NSFW / Zhongli is a cold-hearted meanie in here, but you deserve it for being a flirty little brat / Possessive Zhongli / Filthy smut because the prompt demands it
Your beloved was such a polite and considerate man. Everyone who was familiar with him held that impression, including you. Mister Zhongli was always soft-spoken, always fair, always generous with his praises and compliments, giving credit where due.
So naturally, it would come as a surprise to be proven wrong. Although his tone would always remain gentle and patient, his actions would show you that this man was capable of being the cruelest bastard in all of Teyvat if he found a good reason to.
Alright, so maybe you had brought it on yourself. Maybe you deserved to be reminded that your beloved was the archon of Liyue at one point and authority was such a familiar thing to him. Nobody dared to cross him, intentionally that is. You, in all your misguided confidence, decided to not only ignore his request to keep your distance from a particularly charismatic guest at the gathering, but proceeded to flirt with them right in front of his face. Now, Zhongli was never outwardly a jealous man. You'd have to dig deep, peel back quite a few layers to get there. Tonight, with just a few careless words and a bit of wine, you had managed to awaken that slumbering dragon in him.
"Please… please, I need…" You choked on your words, begging like you had never begged in your life.
"I was under the impression that you could do without me, dear. How come you are going back on your words?" The cruel gentleman asked as if he hadn't just denied you an orgasm for the fourth time.
You grit your teeth, panting and heaving like you had just fought and lost a battle with an impossible opponent. Frustration was a form of arousal, you found out after he pulled out the first time. Each time he put a stop to your impending climax, the next one came with an even more vicious urgency. Your heart would beat so frantically, it felt like it would explode as your back arched off the bed.
"I was wrong!" You wailed, crying and sobbing as if you were truly ridden with remorse. "Please… let me have it… I'll be good! I promise! Z-Zhongli!"
"Dear. Look at you. If you had heeded my words, I would not have to resort to disciplining you in this manner."
"Please…" You whimpered as he continued to exert punishment on your swollen, overstimulated hole.
"Poor thing." He cooed, reaching out to tidy your disheveled hair a bit. "Do you want it so badly?
Zhongli leaned over you, close enough for the tassel dangling from his ear to tickle your face. You nodded desperately, eyes glassy from crying so much.
You were so tired, so frustrated. His constant edging drove you delirious with need. Your voice was hoarse from all the begging and whining. Your body shook as he drove into your wet and waiting hole, pumping in and out with brutal strokes. There was no more need for gentleness and patience. You want him to fuck you deep and hard until your mind becomes incoherent mush. Then perhaps you could momentarily forget how mean he was being to you.
"Please… please… Just let me come…"
A steady stream of pleas spill from your lips, mingling with his shallow breaths and grunts. You throw your head back, words replaced by whimpers. He brings you so incredibly close, you could almost taste the sweet release.
Just when you're about to tip over, the feeling vanishes. Your slicked walls clench helplessly, but he's already pulled out. Tears roll down your cheeks as you sob uncontrollably. Your mind was still a complete mess, unable to comprehend that another orgasm has been snatched from you. All you can do is lay there underneath the cruel bastard, crying like the tortured little thing you are.
Zhongli's conscience finally returns. He kisses you softly on the forehead and whispers apologies into your ear as you catch your breath. Very slowly, he reenters you. Your poor hole had been abused all night, puffy and raw despite being drenched in your slick.
"Are you alright, my dear?" He asks you.
"No." You replied, voice coming out halfway between a whine and a sob. "Are you going to let me come this time?"
He chuckles, placing another kiss on your tearstained cheeks. "It seems you've learned your lesson. I have no reason to further punish you."
You wrap your arms around his neck as he fucks you slow and deep, lips finding yours as he works up a gradual pace. Your breathing gets short and your lips part to let out a high pitched moan. Zhongli groans as he feels you clenching needily around his cock. This time, he intends to bring you all the way to the finish.
"Heartless." You huffed in between moans.
"I could say the same about you as well, my dear. You can be quite insensitive when you have one too many glasses."
Zhongli pins your thighs against your body as his cock impales you over and over. Whimpers spill from your lips as he drives into you at a maddening pace.
You tremble as the familiar sensations begin to wash over you. Pleasure clouds your mind like a thick fog. Everything stills for a split second. All the pent-up frustration and tension culminates into a single, tight coil that comes undone all at once. Convulsions rake your body as your walls cave around him.
Warm cum floods your insides, seeping out and soaking the sheets beneath you. Zhongli pulls out with a groan, cock drenched in cum and slick. Thick ribbons of milky white spilled from your hole, some of it still connected to his cock in glistening threads.
Turned out you weren't the only one tortured tonight from the amount of cum still leaking from his tip. How he managed to last this long, you didn't need to know. All you needed to know was that you should definitely watch your alcohol intake from now on, unless you wanted to purposely invite the wrath of a very jealous, very possessive god.
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mysticheathenn · 4 months ago
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Mystery Pick-A-Card Pt. ll
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Hi, Hexlings!
This pick-a-card reading is about whatever the cards have to say. I shuffle the cards and whatever message comes out is your reading. I couldn't decide on what reading should be next as so many messages wanted to come through, so I decided on this way. This may be about love, academics, friendship/family, money, or careers. Whatever the cards have to say, will be said.
This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.
Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.
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TW Ahead Read With Caution
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Pile l:
What is your Mystery Reading? Tarot: Page of Swords, 5 of Swords, The Chariot (Clarified by The Reversed Empress), Justice (Clarified by 9 of Cups), Ace of Wands
"There's no kindness in your eyes The way you look at me, it's just not right I can tell what's going on this time There's a stranger in my life You're not the person that I once knew Are you scared to let them know it's you? If they could only see you like I do Then they would see a stranger too" - Hilary Duff, Strangers
TW: Body image, Self Esteem, Anorexia, Dysmorphia, Etc
Even though Strangers by Hilary Duff is a love song about a toxic relationship this is about you having a toxic relationship, but with yourself. You are so skilled at faking smiles and pretending everything is okay while you suffer on the inside with your constant negative talk to yourself. You could say things like how ugly, fat, and disgusting, you are to yourself and spew all of these lies that aren't true. Some of you could possibly be dealing with body dysmorphia where you see yourself as one way one moment and another moment you do a complete 180 or 360 depending on what it is about your body you are speaking negatively/positively about. Some of these feelings, thoughts, and emotions may have come from your childhood/adolescence where your family constantly pointed out changes in your weight causing you to have these feelings or body disorders. This makes me sad because I don't need to know what you look like to know that you are handsome/beautiful/spectacular/ and everything that's as sensational and bright as the sun. This reading has left me in a pickle as I have never pulled cards dealing with this subject before and don't want to overstep or cause any damage, as I'm not a psychologist/therapist so I can't give you the guidance you need in order to see yourself for all its glory, but your guides want you to know it's time to start seeing the light. They can't help you if you don't try to help yourself first by seeking help for the thoughts that plague your mind on a daily basis. You may like to listen to sad songs when you're sad so you can remain in your sadness because being happy with who you are is too unbearable to think about. It's time to begin your journey of healing and surrounding yourself with people who see you for who you really are and not the versions in your head that you see or the versions your family likes to place on you because of their own f*cked-up views and opinions about themselves. Try seeking out help from a therapist/psychologist, or a trusted friend. Also, remember that you are more than just your looks, you have a personality that I am sure shines bright as gold and a beautiful future ahead where you are thriving and seeing yourself as truly divine.
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Pile ll:
What is your Mystery Reading? Tarot: The Devil, 7 of Cups, 8 of Cups (Clarified by The Star), 9 of Pentacles (reversed)
"There's things I wanna say to you But I'll just let you live Like if you hold me without hurting me You'll be the first who ever did There's things I wanna talk about But better not to give But if you hold me without hurting me You'll be the first who ever did" - Cinnamon Girl by Lana Del Rey
TW: Self-Sabotage, Vices, etc
This reading can go so many different ways but the overall message is that there is something in your life that isn't good for you that you can't see to walk away because you either feel you have no better options or you don't want any other options. For some of you, this could be a relationship you refuse to let go of because of fear and for others of you, this could be vices like drugs, alcohol, or even self-sabotaging things for yourself because you don't see how bright your future or how brilliant you are. Some of you are so far down the rabbit hole that you don't see a way out, you have let this thing or person consume your every being to the point there is no moon or sun in your work only complete darkness. It's as if you have fully accepted that this is your life now and the thing about that pile ll is this doesn't have to be your life. You have The Star card in your reading showing you that you are more than capable of being someone other than the version you are now or even finding better elsewhere if this is about a relationship. Freedom is just a few steps away you just have to be the one to see the light at the end of the tunnel instead of always pulling the blackout curtains over any and all kinds of light that touched your domain. You have options...you just rather not take them because of having to deal with the pain that comes along with it. Again this could be vices that you pick up every time life gets even the smallest of inconvenient for you and others it's a relationship that you wholeheartedly either believe is as good as it gets for you because of your low self-esteem or because you don't want to leave this person in their darkest hour not realizing that they too are slowing taking you under. Your light is so bright pile ll and it's been trying to show you in your darkness but you refuse to answer or grab its hand. It's time to walk away from the things that keep you mentally, emotionally, and even physically stuck and walk away. Do some healing or find other solutions that can help with your vices. Similar to how chain smokers replace cigarettes with snacks...replace what this toxic energy is with something better.
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Pile lll:
What is your Mystery Reading? Tarot: The Lovers, The Hierophant, The Devil, The Moon, 3 of Swords
Two Messages - TW: Toxic Relationships (Romantic & of the Self)
So many Major Arcana cards pile lll. You may have been drawn to Pile ll, this reading somewhat mirrors that pile also. The only difference is that you acknowledge your unhappiness while Pile ll...well...yeah. Anyway, pile lll I sense your unhappiness within your relationship and possibly within yourself too. With the lovers and devil card in this reading, I sense that this is mainly a relationship reading but if not take what resonates and apply it to you being single. Single messages are later in this reading. Overall you are unhappy with how your relationship is, it's as if you romanticized what it would be like with this person and decided to go with the flow of everything even when things didn't feel right and now you are unhappy because you don't want to "disturb the peace" in your relationship but you also are feeling yourself chip away each and every day. Maybe this is the kind of relationship you thought you wanted because society or your family have always had this kind of relationship and you thought this is the way it has to be not realizing that you have a say in how your relationship should be, feel, and look like. You don't have to sit in silence and possibly cry yourself to sleep every night wishing things were different when you can just leave if the relationship is not serving you the way your soul wants to be fed. For just a few of you this may be an abusive or toxic relationship and this relationship while it is abusive you have only known chaotic and toxic love so anything else just doesn't feel right because you are so used to chaos and drama not realizing that's not love. For those of you who are single, this feels more so of you not feeling one with yourself. You're catering to everyone else but what your soul has been telling you all along. There is so much hidden potential in you that you don't realize because you are listening and entertaining others. Going back to those who are in abusive or toxic relationships if you can and only if you can seek help. There are so many people out there willing and wanting to help you get out. Last for those who are single and try and tap into the parts of you that are screaming for you to release and see where it takes you. I am going to let you know that you tapping into yourself will cause friction to those who are only around you for their own benefit...are you ready to lose those around you when you stop entertaining others' opinion of you.
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Pile lV:
What is your Mystery Reading? Tarot: Ace of Pentacles, 7 of cups, Strength, Ace of Cups, 8 of Pentacles, Hanged Man
This is the only good happy-toned reading out of the remainder of the other piles and I can't tell you how happy I am for you. Whatever it is that you have been working on specifically dealing with career as I see a lot of money and emotions cards. Needless to say, that emotional fulfillment is coming in for you pile lV. Please don't doubt that what you are doing is a waste of time because it's not. If you aren't working on something you may have had several opportunities or ideas come to you that you have questioned whether they will lead you to financial stability and abundance and with the 8 and Ace of Pentacles card it is a yes. Yes, one of your ideas will bring you the money you have been trying to manifest or pray for. Some of you that may have multiple ideas or opportunities may not be sure as to what you should take that will lead you down this road and it's the one that gives you the most emotional fulfillment. If you still aren't sure close your eyes and picture yourself doing each opportunity and if it doesn't give you a feeling of peace washing over you...onto the next idea or opportunity. This path will also force you to have strength pile lV as this is not a quick road to riches and stability. You will be tested and have setbacks as well as being stuck in limbo but overall this will be worth it and is exactly what you have been wanting in your life...it's just going to take a bit of work to get there but financial abundance is on it's way to you, just have patience, dedication, and focus on the prize.
Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.
Stay safe and be blessed
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parvulous-writings · 8 months ago
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Could I request headcanons for Wyll, Rolan, and Zevlor react to being stuck in close proximity with gn crush?
Warnings: None!
Notes: These may be a little short/uneven, but these were so cute to write!! Anon, you've become such a prominent asker, that I'd love to give you a nickname of some sort, if you're comfortable with that! <3  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!
Wyll
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Wyll is a gentleman about the whole situation - or at least he tries to be. He gives you as much space as he is able to, even though he's squishing himself into a corner, he's more than happy to do that so that you're comfortable.
He tries to keep up conversation with you, to try and distract from the somewhat uncomfortable situation; mostly mundane questions, like 'What's your favourite...' or 'Have you ever...' It's also partly to distract you from the fact that his cheeks are burning hotter than the hells. Who'd have thought it'd be easy to fluster the Blade of Frontiers, even if it were only slightly, by being so near to him?
He cannot take his eyes off of you. Not even for a moment. He tries, at first, but finds it astronomically difficult, and eventually just gives in. He loves gazing at you - your presence brings him such peace, even in such a compromising position such as this.
Once the two of you are found/make your way out of the confined space, Wyll apologises - even though it was not his fault - and offers to make it up to you at some point, by however you see fit.
Rolan
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Rolan is entirely speechless. He cannot find the words to say anything to you, not even a half-handed snappy quip. His eyes rarely meet yours, and are rather more often aimed off to the side, or somewhere above your heads. It's... Quite awkward.
You try anything to break the silence between the two of you; "Can you move your leg, please, Rolan?" Followed by a quiet shuffle as Rolan tries to move a little bit further from you but still remain comfortable. It is of little use on either front, but he tries. Any question of "how are you feeling?" Or "You okay?" is met with either complete silence, or a quiet grunt of acknowledgement.
Rolan doesn't know what to do, he's never been in a situation like this before - much less a situation where he can't find the words to express himself. His heart is pounding against his ribcage, harder than he can recall it ever being in his life. He's entirely tense, and he has no idea what to do; his normal confident facade has completely crumbled away, leaving little besides anxiety, and a slightly fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever you speak.
The first chance he gets after the pair of you can separate, he all but disappears from view - for several hours. You had wanted to talk to him about it, but couldn't find him anywhere. Eventually you do find him, but as soon as you bring up the situation, he turns his gaze from you; "I... Would rather not dwell on the situation... If it's all the same to you." He's just too flustered still to be able to process any of it.
Zevlor
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Zevlor is constantly asking how you're feeling. "Are you sure you're well?" followed a few minutes later with, "Is there anything you need? ... Yes, I am aware I can't go and get anything, but I'm sure you understand the sentiment..."
He constantly asks you if you're alright, comfortable, etc. Neither of you know how long you're going to be stuck in this situation, so is completely understanding of the constant need to shuffle to keep your limbs from going dead. This being said, he'll always tell you if he's going to try and move himself, just so that he can try not to kick you, and you can brace yourself just in case of this outcome.
He tells you of his time in Elturel before it's descent into Avernus, his time as a Hellrider, all sorts. He finds it very easy to share things with you, since he's so sweet on you - it would usually take some probing for anyone to get that kind of information out of him. But, since he would like to establish more of a relationship with you, he's willing to part with some of it.
Once the two of you are out in the open again, Zevlor double checks that you're okay. "I would have hoped to have had some of those conversations in a more... Traditional way. But, I suppose, one cannot deny the deft hands of fate, hm?"
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