#Just take that simple joy from my presence
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rest-your-head-in-my-lap · 3 months ago
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Toy with me a little Squeeze me, fidget with me absentmindedly- or devote all your focus to it, brush your canines along my neck and maybe Maybe if you entertain me enough I'll pretend you really can control me, for just a bit.
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pestercide · 1 year ago
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Sudden urge to drop off the face of the Earth (have zero online presence) and just focus on my art and myself then suddenly come back like nothin happened but now my art looks super different and I'm prolly mentally better too
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bratbby333 · 7 months ago
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i will possess your heart – satoru gojo
-this story contains very heavy nsfw content! please read at your own discretion!-
𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 content warnings dead dove fic- heavy stalking, violent obsession, manipulation, forced voyeurism, forced exhibition, drugging, mentions of blood, knives, use of restraints, plot twist, extreme dub-con 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 synopsis for as cocky as Satoru is, it’s oddly fitting. in his mind, everything belongs to him, including you. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 word count 8k
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Satoru fumbled with a tripod as he positioned his camera onto the stand and proceeded to hit record. He was thorough, making sure his chair was perfectly centered before he sat down, staring at himself in the viewfinder while he fussed with his hair, inhaling deeply. A wide grin cut across his face before dropping back into lackluster neutrality. He looked down at his lap, his fingers ran up and down his denim-clad thighs. He snapped back onto the camera blank-faced before a deranged smile pulled at his cheeks.
Click
January 16th, 4:06 AM
I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point. I’m plagued by the shadows, my entire life enshrouded in darkness. I don’t remember what things were like before. Day by day, it’s all the same. I cannot escape it—this anchoring feeling of despair. The emptiness eats away at me. I’m in search of release…of some sort of freedom from this pain. I need to fill my life with meaning, to find purpose in this accursed world…I think I’ll go out for coffee today. People watching brings me so much joy. They seem to live much happier lives than me.
Click
January 16th, 6:38 PM
My daydreams must’ve blended into reality because there was no way I created someone as beautiful as she was outside my imagination. I’m certain of it. She was sitting at the bar of the cafe down the street from my apartment, dressed in business casual—she probably works nearby. How kismet. The coffee was bland, as were most things in my life, but she awoke something in me. I hope I see her again. She somehow managed to clear the cobwebs around my heart. I think my life has finally found purpose. She is my driving force. I wonder what her name is.
Click
January 19th, 6:11 AM
Feeling well-rested today. Four hours of sleep is my new record. I plan to go to the coffee shop again. Back to the place where my eyes were first blessed with the mirage of her…where I first fell in love. I hope she’s there. People are so fun to observe when they don’t think they’re being watched…it’s simple psychology. The Hawthorne Effect. When humans notice they are under observation, they change. So inauthentic. But her? She never notices. She sits so obliviously, allowing me to take her in with ease. So good to me. She’s a breath of fresh air. I hope to work up the courage to speak to her soon. My heart soars at the mere thought of being in her presence once again. It’s so refreshing to feel something after all this time. I’ve been numb for so long, but she has set my heart on fire. She is everything to me, my sole purpose for existence.
Click
January 19th, 8:27 PM
I saw her again today. She didn’t see me. Just how I like it. She typed away on her computer like normal…she’s a hard worker, it seems. Driven and strong. And here I was thinking such beauty was a thing of legend. It's refreshing to have been proved wrong–that rarely happens. Oh, how I crave her. I know she’d make me feel whole again. She can save me from all this, I can feel it. 
Click
January 23rd, 5:13 AM
Only two hours of sleep tonight. But, for some reason, I feel better than ever… I normally do when I find a reason for living, again. It’s her…it must be because of her. She keeps me going; my muse, my inspiration. She’s worked wonders on me already and she doesn’t even know it, yet. I’m going to the cafe again today, I cannot wait to see her. Maybe today I will finally speak to her.
Click
January 23rd, 9:53 PM
She never showed up today…I wonder what’s going on. Maybe she had other things to do. It’s fine, really. I’m annoyed, honestly. I waited around all day. I’ll keep checking until I see her again. 
Click
January 28th, 7:06 PM
My sweet girl has gone missing. I haven’t seen her in quite some time now. This is just ridiculous. The woman I love…is she avoiding me? No, no that cannot be. 
Click
February 2nd, 8:31 AM
I haven’t slept well in days. I’ve been awake for twenty six hours now…my mind feels like it’s filled with static and yet, I feel sharper than ever. I’ve gone to the cafe every day. Still no sign of her. I’m slipping back into my old ways, the darkness is going to return any moment. I’ve begun to hear the laughter in the shadows again. They’re making fun of me, I just know it. I need her…oh, I need her so bad. How could she do this to me? Does she not know how much I suffer when she’s not around? If I don’t see her again soon, I will never recover.
Click
February 5th, 6:21 PM
I finally saw her again today. My heartrate spiked and I nearly leaped from my seat to kiss her, to hold her, sway her side to side in a deep hug. Instead, I slipped a tracker into her purse as I walked by her chair. I must know where she works, where she lives, and what she enjoys in her free time. She slipped away from me so easily…can’t let that happen again. I need to know every little thing about her. She is my one and only after all. It would be ridiculous to love someone so deeply and know nothing about them. She is too beautiful, I cannot let her wander around unsupervised. There are some crazy people out there—you never know what could happen. I can’t lose her. I must keep her safe. I will possess her heart. No one else can have her but me. 
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦��.
Satoru observed her for months, shadowing her all around town. He knew the woman’s routine like the back of his hand, before he ever learned her name. Sunday’s she went grocery shopping, Monday after work was her pilates class, every couple of Thursday’s she was at the nail salon, and Friday’s were seemingly payday–he picked up on her pattern of going out to nice restaurants every other week. Satoru eventually got an upper-level management position at a company that shared the office building with her job–he is incredibly intelligent and overqualified, after all; they would be foolish to not hire him. Now he could really keep an eye on her.
That was when he finally learned her name–the two of them taking the same elevator. She didn’t recognize him as the man who seemingly had the same routine as her–it’s one of the many reasons why Satoru loved her so much: her naivety. She looked into his eyes for the first time that day, her voice was soft and angelic, and the name that fell from her lips sent waves through Satoru’s body, the same name that would now be coupled with his gasping moans every evening as he stroked himself to the thought of her. 
With Satoru’s new job that brought him one step closer to her, he knew he could no longer watch her in the way he used to. His movements had to be more calculated, putting more distance between them than he normally would or hiding behind the deep tint of his car windows. If she saw his face too frequently, she surely would have caught on. Satoru smiled at the possibility of her never catching on…how she’d greet him with a smile and a friendly hug each time they “coincidentally” bumped into one another, giggling about their lives' odd synchronicities. Such a sweet girl. If only she knew.
He stopped into her job, a small gift bag hanging off his slender fingers, desperate to watch her eyes light up with the sweet gesture of an unexpected gift. He asked to see her, only to be informed by the receptionist that she had the day off.
It was no worry, he didn’t let that dull his excitement. “I’m a friend of hers, brought this in to surprise her. Do you mind showing me to her desk, I’ll just leave it there for her when she returns to work,” he said kindly. The lady working the front desk blushed under his piercing gaze and handsome features, nodding shyly and walking him to his lover’s designated area. 
Satoru thanked her, stepping into the cubicle to place his gift by her computer. His eyes glazed over her workspace. It was decorated with trinkets and family photos. He picked one up, his thumb tracing over her face. His pretty girl. That smile could bring about world peace; it definitely quieted the angered voices in his head. He scanned her desk, a moment of envy shooting through him at the thought of her dainty fingers dancing over the keyboard rather than tangling in his hair. He groaned internally, looking over his shoulder to ensure no one was around, before ducking down, rummaging through his beloved’s drawers. Stowed away in the bottom of the unit was a fuzzy, white cardigan. He brought the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply, stifling the filthy moan that nearly echoed through the cubicle. He quickly tucked it into his jacket, took one last look around, and headed toward the exit. 
In the safety of his vehicle, Satoru whipped the clothing out from under his wing, bringing it to his face once more. He undid his belt buckle with haste, shoving his dress slacks halfway down his thighs before his large fist swaddled his cock with the fuzzy white cardigan. He nearly sobbed at the contact, the smell of his car filling with her beautifully floral perfume. He brought the free edge up to his nose, taking another whiff as his hand worked furiously against his shaft. He had never finished so quickly in his life, staggered whimpers and choked moans fell from his parted lips as fat ropes shot up onto his abs and chest. His cheeks were flustered a violent red as he wiped his sticky shame away with her top. After he came, then did his clarity, and Satoru’s body ached with the thought of how good it would feel to finally be sheathed within her sticky walls, rather than her soft clothing. I’ll be with you soon. Soon, my love. 
These feelings were getting unbearable. His overactive brain had him teetering on the edge of insanity. He needed more. His imagination was no longer enough to satiate the hunger that gnawed so deeply in his core, the distanced watching and hopeless longing for the love of his life created jagged rifts in his already damaged psyche. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. A few deep breaths and the promise he made to himself to take action soon quelled his burning desire. But for how much longer could Satoru repress the demon that clawed through his body?
Satoru surveyed her while she ran to the bank, walked her dog, or took her car to the wash. But his most favorite place to watch her was from the bench just outside her bedroom window, engulfed in darkness. Pretty girl lived on the second floor, her silly little brain assumed she didn’t need curtains. She never saw him, but he always saw her. All of her. Drinking in the way her clothes were delicately removed from her pretty little frame, the way she turned and posed in the mirror–so good to him. How her skin glistened after she got out of the shower, the water droplets running along her body in the same way Satoru wanted to. 
He fell into a state of bliss, feeling spoiled by the show he was getting tonight. The lotion that she worked into her body, the beautiful set of lingerie that she dawned. His eyes buzzed around his sockets, elation flooding through him. Gorgeous, gorgeous girl. But his body went rigid and his jaw locked tight at the appearance of another man behind the love of his life. He sat upright, shoulders stiff and heart pounding in his ears at the thought of his sweet being in danger, he cursed himself for not being more aware of her surroundings on her behalf. But when his darling girl turned to the unknown man with a smile, greeting him with a gentle kiss with the lips that were supposed to be just for Satoru, his heart shattered into a million pieces. 
Oh, no. This just won’t do, my love. You are mine. 
Jealousy coursed through his veins while he looked into her room, rage balled in his fists as he watched a random man have her in the one way Satoru couldn’t. Not yet, at least. He must’ve been new in her life, judging by the way his nervous hands explored every part of her skin. Satoru laughed at this–he knew he could please his woman so much better. But betrayal nipped at the back of his neck; how could she do this to him? Had his loyalty fallen on unappreciative shoulders? No, that couldn’t be. Satoru knew she was better than that, he picked her for a reason, after all. She was just playing hard to get. 
You rejected my advances and desperate pleas, and now you throw your relationship in my face. It’s punishment enough that I can’t have you, but I won't let you let me down so easily.
Feeling at a loss, swallowed whole by his hungered desperation, he did what any rational person would. He moved in next door.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Satoru Gojo was your next-door neighbor. He moved in only a few months after you did. You were elated, chalking it up to a lucky roll of the dice that you had met by chance at your job; he had started working for the company that shared the office park with yours. It really seemed like things were on the come-up for you. He was kind, confidently intuitive, funny, and supportive. Mildly egotistical, but it worked for him. He always invited you over for dinner and movie nights and was a strong, dependable shoulder for you to cry on. You had just moved to the city, feeling utterly lost and absolutely gutted about being so far from your support systems now, and he was your first friend. You felt safe knowing he was just a wall away. 
On a random Sunday, you opened your front door to see all the food you loved sitting at your doorstep–weird, you were just about to leave for the store. You turned your head, seeing Satoru peeking out from his cracked door, grinning at you. 
“Was this you, Satoru? You didn’t have to…this is incredibly thoughtful,” you beamed, stepping over the grocery bags to give him a tight hug. “You’re the best, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” But Satoru did, he knew exactly what you could do for him.
When you needed a ride to work, he jumped in to save you. The two of you worked in the same building after all. It was a crazy coincidence that your new neighbor turned best friend worked just a few floors above you. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? But it worked out perfectly for the two of you. 
There was a month where you were short on rent, and there was Satoru, paying the rest on your behalf. 
You weren’t catching on. Sweet, naive girl. Oh, how he loved you. I need to work harder to get her attention.
Satoru was not a patient man, but for you, he would do anything and everything to get you right where he wanted you, expertly playing the long game. It began with the fated sighting of you sitting in a cafe, and snowballed into something bigger. At first, he only ever observed you, maybe the minor occasion of overstepping, but as time went on, he couldn’t sit idly by. It was time to make his move.
His disruptions in your life started inconspicuously. Leaving for a date? You found your car tires slashed and windows shattered in the parking deck. Now there’s a police investigation. Bummer…gotta cancel the date. Had a guy over? Satoru’s apartment flooded. Weird… that was the second time this month. 
“You gotta talk to the landlord about this, ‘Toru,” you sighed. He had to stay at yours that evening. 
You cried on his shoulder, telling him that some guy stood you up on a date you had been anticipating for weeks. There was an electrical fire in that man’s apartment that night. Must’ve been faulty wiring...or something.
His apartment flooded again. He was back at your door. You welcomed him with open arms, of course. He’s so good to you, the least you could do is help him out, as well. 
Satoru, you’re slipping. That’s too many times in one month. Ease up or she’ll catch on.
Friday night, in a wild happenstance, he bumped into you while you were out with another man, enjoying a nice dinner together. He smiled warmly at the two of you, before politely dismissing himself. His cheery smile dropped into a demented grin once he stepped out of the restaurant as he anonymously called in a bomb threat to the establishment. You were so shaken up at the entire ordeal you practically begged Satoru to stay with you that night. He’d be a fool to turn you down.
Satoru got everything he wanted. You were just a tough nut to crack, is all. No big deal. He loved a challenge. After all, how could you not love him by now?
But nothing was working. You couldn’t catch the hint, even with everything he threw at you. He was always the one there for you, even when you weren’t aware of it. What more could he do to prove that he was the only person you needed? I’m reliable, witty, and loving… how can she not see this? He finally snapped. The last straw? Hearing your pleasure-filled cries while getting fucked by another man, your “boyfriend”. The lewd sounds ricocheted around your room, shooting through the thin walls of your apartment and straight into his listening ears.
Tsk, tsk. Now you’ve done it. Always been such a tease. 
For as cocky as he was, it’s oddly fitting. In his mind, everything belonged to him, including you. And with that, his demented plan was in full effect. He had hoped to spare you, prayed that you would fall in love with him before he lost his composure completely. But your sweet, naive nature had proved to be a difficult wall to break down. 
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Click
The sound of your front door’s lock disengaging echoed through the empty hallway. Satoru stepped in, inhaling deeply as he shoved your house key into his back pocket. It was far easier to gain access into your home than he had originally anticipated; he was fully prepared to break in, but all he had to do was tell your landlord you went out of town and you forgot to leave a key with him before you left. The manager of your apartment complex knew how close you and Satoru were, so it was an easy lie to tell. But it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You weren’t out of town, he wasn’t house sitting, and you had no intentions of having company this evening.
Seated at your desk, he opened your laptop and navigated his way to your iMessage settings, ensuring you could only send and receive texts from your laptop. Clicking on the messaging app, he stifled the gag that threatened to escape his throat as he clicked on the thread between you and your boyfriend, his contact name “my love” in your phone. He rolled his eyes, before drafting a quick text: 
-Hey, baby. I have a half-day at work today…dinner and wine at my place tonight? ;)
He grinned at the quickness of your boyfriend’s response.
-I would love that. What time, my love?
Satoru scoffed at the pet name. He doesn’t deserve to call you that. Poor bastard needed to learn his place. Heat rose in his chest, jealousy emanating through his skin as he crafted his response.
-3pm…Can’t wait to see you.
Everything was going according to plan. Satoru glanced at the clock beside him: 11:17 AM. It was time to get set up, he had a big day planned for you, and his first guest would be arriving in a few short hours. 
A knock rang through the apartment as Satoru finished lighting his final candle. He smiled wide, sauntering over to the door. He swung it open, grinning politely at your boyfriend. “...Hey, man…didn’t expect to see you here…” he said warily as Satoru stood to the side and gestured him in, a quizzical look painted on your partner’s face as he stepped through the doorway. The door shut and the lock was reengaged. “Where’s…” but before he could get his question out, his chin was met with Satoru’s right fist.
Satoru made quick work of dragging his body upstairs. He dug through the unconscious man’s pants, pulling out his cellphone. Satoru was disgusted to see that you were his lockscreen. This pitiful man wasn’t worthy enough to be with you. He rolled his eyes, unlocking the man’s phone and sending you a text: 
-Hey, beautiful. Come straight home tonight. I’m making dinner for us. See you when you get off work.
You smiled at the familiar ding of your phone, the notification effectively distracting you from your tedious paperwork. Your heart soared at the message, sighing deeply and shifting your weight around in your office chair. Your hand rubbed at your face in an attempt to hide your blushing cheeks. 
“What is it?” your coworker asked. 
“Oh, nothing. I thought my boyfriend forgot our anniversary cause I hadn’t heard from him all day…but he just texted me saying he’s at my place and is making dinner for us tonight.” A giddy smile couldn’t help but drag across your face. 
Satoru looked at the clock: 3:28 PM. You would be home in an hour or so. Just a few more things had to be done, everything had to be perfect.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Your heart rate spiked as you got closer to your apartment door, keys jingling against your palm as you fumbled with the lock, excitement making your movements a bit clumsier than usual. You entered and kicked off your heels, and as you turned to toss your keys onto the small table in your foyer, you noticed a small card that said “Read Me” placed perfectly in the center of the tray. You were perplexed as your eyes scanned over the note. “Go to the living room” was all it said.
You blushed, a nervous smile pulling at the edge of your lips as you crept to the other room. Your eyes went wide at the sight; deep red roses were placed in the center of the coffee table and every accessible surface around the couch was adorned with beautifully flickering candles. Another note was on the table, your fingers fumbled with the edge of the card as you opened it: “Have a seat, take a sip, and press play.” You settled on the couch, noticing a glass of alluring red wine to the right of the roses. You took a few deep, fulfilling swigs of your drink before grabbing the TV remote. Your face twisted a bit, examining the glass in your hand, the flavor of wine different than the one you were used to. It was a special night after all, your thoughtful boyfriend must have wanted you to branch out this evening. Where is he, anyway? As you pressed play, you called out for him, only to be cut off by your own confusion as Satoru’s face appeared on your TV screen. You watched with perplexity as Satoru recentered his chair, smiled, relaxed his face, and then smiled again.
No…no, no, no. What is this? You were locked in place, the melodious sounds of Satoru’s voice cascaded out of your surround sound system. He looked different though, his eyes were dull and low, his voice monotonous–his alarming difference in demeanor sent a chill down your spine. Your groggy mind inferred that this must’ve been an accident. Maybe it was casted to the wrong TV. I shouldn’t be seeing this…these are Satoru’s video diaries. 
You so badly wanted to tear your eyes away from the screen, this seemed like such an invasion of privacy. But you were entranced, staring intently toward the TV, though you didn’t really have a choice, your body was completely numb now. 
“January 16th, 4:06 AM
I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point…” you fought to keep your eyes open, to piece together what the hell was happening, until your body eventually succumbed to sleep.
When you finally came to, you were laid out on your bed, fully nude. Soft grunts lingered in the air as you worked your hardest to refocus your eyes, your head pounding. You shifted your weight onto your forearms, your neck straining as it felt like your brain was filled with lead, eyes searching your bedroom for the culprit of the moans. One glance to the left, a quick look to the right, before you stared straight ahead at the wall directly across from the bed. Your body lurched in fear as your heart sank, the source of the sounds now looking you dead in the eyes: The man you had been seeing for the past couple of months, gagged and tied to a chair, his bloodied face twisted up in agony. 
You tried to call out for him. Your feeble attempts to drag your heavy body closer in order to console him were interrupted as the room was suddenly illuminated with the streaming lights of a projector. Your movements halted as you shielded your eyes immediately, the bright interruption feeling like a flashbang to your sensitive head. 
“We didn’t get to finish my show and tell,” a voice spoke up from the dark corner. 
“Satoru?? Wha…what is going on?” you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes while your hands attempted to cover your modesty. You tried your hardest to sit upright, your head spinning, unsure if Satoru was the culprit or your savior. Your body felt like it was anchored to the floor, your head throbbing with every word that tore through your chest. 
“There’s no need for all that yelling, sweetheart,” Satoru grinned, crouching down next to you. You winced as his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that trickled down your cheeks. 
Click
Metal cuffs clamped down on your wrists before you could even register what was happening. A million unanswered questions spun through the room as you frantically searched through his blue eyes, hoping to find any sort of insight into the torment he was inflicting upon the two of you. 
“This is what’s gonna happen, okay? I need you to listen to me.” His voice was sickeningly sweet, each syllable that left his lips more damning than the last as he dragged your limp body up the bed, securing your wrists to the headboard and angling your body toward the projected video on your wall. A crazed grin lit up his dull face as he raised his hand, pointing the remote toward the projector. “You’re gonna sit here and look all pretty f’me while you watch these tapes, and if you move, if you stop paying attention for even a second…” Your stomach churned at how gently he was able to give such vile instructions. He turned his attention towards your partner, the blade of a knife twirling through the slender fingers of his free hand, “...He’s dead. Understand, angel?” 
You nodded reluctantly, unable to do anything else but comply with his demands. Your head was spinning, trying to digest the fact that this was the same person who had paid your rent and entertained your rants after a hard day of work. You listened as his voice continued to drabble over the static of the projector, recalling how bland that day had been until he saw your face. How he must’ve dreamt of you because there was no way your beauty could exist outside of his imagination. To you, it had been a normal Tuesday afternoon. To him, it had been the start of the rest of his life. 
The longer you watched, the more the realization set in that the sweet gestures he presented to you were not out of the goodness of his heart, but from the darkness of his spirit, driven by his wanton lust. Your face was slack, eyes wide in horror. Disappointment crawled through your chest at your own naivety. How could I be so oblivious? So trusting? 
Satoru’s eyes bored into the side of your face as he sat beside you, his hands rubbing deep circles into your bare thighs, pure elation shooting through his veins at his sweet girl finally having a look into his mind. The look of terror that painted your beautiful face made his heart leap with joy. Satoru’s giddy demeanor dropped as pained grunts emerged from the tethered man against the wall. He stood, closing the distance between the two of them, his fist encircling your boyfriend’s throat. You began to protest, to plead with Satoru to leave him be, but the rage that filled his eyes made you shut your mouth. “Uh uh…eye’s on the screen, my love.” Your head snapped back toward the videos, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as the muffled wailing of your boyfriend filled the room. 
As the final video played, Satoru returned to your side, kneeling on the edge of the bed as he  stroked the back of your head and rubbed at your cheeks. “Can’t you see all that I’ve done for you?” He grabbed your face, digging his fingers deep into the space under your cheekbones, forcing your lips into a pucker. “You belong to me, my love.” A deep growl rumbled through his chest, “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, his hot tongue bullying its way through your tight lips. Small whines echoed through your mouth and into his, and Satoru greedily swallowed up your sounds with ease. Whimpers of protest came from the wall across from your bed, but they were quickly drowned out by the wet sounds of smacking lips and battling tongues.
He broke away, a thick trail of spit still connecting the two of you. Satoru released your cheeks with a gentle shove, throwing his leg over yours to straddle you. He dropped his head to your neck, his white hair brushing against your skin. You winced as he licked a thick line from your collarbone to your ear. “I finally get to have you,” he whispered, nipping at your flesh, “You ready to give yourself to me, princess?” Your eyes widened in horror, your gaze affixed towards your boyfriend, blood trickling from the fresh cuts on his cheeks. Your head shook side to side, tears brimming in your eyes once more as your thoughts raced through your mind, causing a traffic jam in your throat. “I…no, I can’t…he’s…” Satoru’s palm covered your mouth, a groan erupting from the back of his throat as his eyes rolled deep into his skull. He sat back, staring down at you, his free hand running its fingertips between your breasts. “This has nothing to do with him…It’s just me and you now, my love.” Your head snapped up to stare at your captor as the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your nipples. A stifled moan teased the back of your throat, an exasperated look of fear in your eyes as you stared up at Satoru.
Your cheeks flushed as you held his gaze. He grinned back down at you before rolling the hardened bud between his fingertips. Your chest arched toward him, a shameful hum dancing from your lips as he played with you. A deep laugh erupted from the blue-eyed man at your unintentional reaction, his head thrown back with pure joy as he continued to pull at your nipples. He leaned into your neck once more, his teeth grazing the outer shell of your ear. “I knew it,” he purred, “Knew you wanted me, too. You were just playing hard to get, isn’t that right?” You shook your head once more, your words constricted in your chest. “N-no…I never wanted you,” you retorted, head thrown to the side, attempting to distance yourself from him, but to no avail. The weight of him anchored your lower half to the mattress while your tethered wrists held you in place.
A deep chuckle rumbled through Satoru, “So if I feel your pussy, it won’t be absolutely soaked right now?” A pathetic whimper escaped your throat as you shook your head furiously. The rolling motion against your nipples halted and his hand trailed lower down your abdomen. “Hmm…let’s see then, shall we?” he taunted, tracing your skin before rubbing your folds and dipping into your core. “I knew it…you’re fucking drenched f’me, sweetheart.” He shoved two fingers in, shallowly teasing your hole before withdrawing, bringing his sopping digits between your faces, turning his wrist as the dim light of the room illuminated the wetness, making it glisten ever so slightly. He examined them before meeting your fearful gaze. “Why did you lie?” He sucked his middle digit into his mouth, his tongue lapping hungrily at your sweet juices as his eyes fluttered shut. A hum emanated from Satoru as his other soaked finger pushed past your lips, “Here, have a taste, pretty girl,” his long digit dancing around your tongue. “So fucking sweet. You have no idea how badly I’ve been craving this.” 
“I’ll ask you again, princess…Why’d you lie to me? I thought you were better than that,” he teased, an insincere pout twitching at his lips as he cradled your chin. Your body thrashed as his hands pawed down your body, plunging two fingers deep inside you again. Your back arched toward him, his knee between your legs was the only thing keeping you open for him. “I…It wasn’t..ahh!– I wasn’t lying…I–”. Your words fell on deaf ears as a wicked smile crept across Satoru’s face.
“Shhh…shhh my sweet girl, just lay back and enjoy,” he smirked as he crawled down your body, laying himself flat on the bed with his head nestled between your legs. Satoru’s body no longer shielded you from your boyfriend, your teary eyes darted across his face, a silent apology being sent his way. Small gasps escaped your lips as Satoru continued to pump into you, the tips of his curled fingers toying with your sweet spot. When you stared down at him, the look of pure desire peered back at you, the dampness between your legs skyrocketing at the sight. A scarlet dusting of shame brushed across your cheeks at your clear enjoyment of all this, even though it betrayed every natural instinct you had. His tongue darted out from between his lips, the tip circling your swollen clit as his fingers dipped in and out of you, his movements spurred on by his own desperation.
He was delirious, suckling against your clit while his fingers worked into you with fervor, moans and growls echoing through the room as he drank you in. You so badly wanted to break away, to console your boyfriend who had an unintentional front row seat to you falling apart on someone else’s tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, his digits hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Pleasure ripped through your body as a tightening sensation crept its way into your stomach. The rattling of your cuffs echoed through your bedroom as you fought against your restraints, desperately wanting to tangle your fingers in Satoru’s hair.
Your hips bucked toward his mouth, your body aching for release as your pelvis thrusted against his flattened tongue. You didn’t dare look away from Satoru, for you knew there was another set of eyes affixed upon the damning scene that was unfolding. He continued to hum and suck and pump into your core as you tightened around him, his slender fingers quickly coaxing your orgasm from your writhing body. Your eyes screwed shut as your gushy walls spasmed around his fingers, your release painting Satoru’s overly-eager face. He lapped at you some more, working you through your orgasm as he cleaned you up with his wickedly talented tongue. 
A deep growl broke through Satoru’s chest as he removed his head from between your legs, the back of his hand dragging across his chin, catching the last of your release before he licked you off of him. He sat upright, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, “Hope you were taking notes,” a smug grin on his face as he addressed your watching boyfriend. He redirected his attention to you. “Did so good f’me, angel. Dreamt of that for so long…” he grinned, his tongue darting out to trace along his lips, hoping there was still some of you coating his face “...I could do that all fuckin’ day.” 
Your shaking chest heaved as clarity settled into your mind. Satoru untethered your wrists from the headboard, shifting your body so that you were on your hands and knees, head positioned toward the wall your partner was leaning against. Strangled sounds rang from your boyfriend’s chest as you finally met his gaze. Humiliation prickling under your skin at the realization of what you had just done. But you had no time to dwell on it as Satoru repositioned himself on the bed.
“He’s gonna watch me destroy you, my sweet girl,” Satoru was kneeled behind you, lining himself up with your embarrassingly soaked entrance. He grasped your hips roughly, sinking into you in one fluid motion. You choked out a sob as you dropped your head in shame.
“You’re so pretty when you cry. He can’t help you…can’t save you. Go ‘head, keep cryin’ for him,” he cooed, his thrusts deep and slow inside of you. Jagged moans escaped your throat as the thick head of his cock brushed into your sweet spot. “He can’t make you feel as good as I do.”
He leaned down, reaching around to cradle your throat in his hand, squeezing tightly as he turned your head to the side, his sharp eyes running up and down your contorted face. “Can’t you see that you belong to me, how my poor heart aches for you? How badly I’ve needed you?” His thrusts were agonizingly slow but incredibly deep, the pressure in your tummy betraying your desire for this to stop. “That’s it, my love. Feel you clenching down on me…you’re getting off on this, aren’t ya?” His hips rocked deeper into you, the new depth had your hands clawing at the sheets of your bed as pleasure worked its way through your trembling body.
“He doesn’t treat you the way I do. He never will. No one is better for you than me, princess,” he seethes, his hand cupping your chin, holding your head up, “Now look in his eyes while I use you.” His pace picked up, pulling you back on to him with his anchored hand around your neck. A broken sob cut through your constricted throat as he fucked into you, the visceral sound of flesh smacking against flesh and whines and cries spun through the otherwise stiff air of your room. He palmed at the fat of your ass, pulling your body to meet his rough thrusts. A choked cry left your lips as you maintained eye contact with your boyfriend, crimson droplets running down his face, mimicking the pattern of your tears. You mouthed a silent “I’m sorry” to him before your eyes shut tightly, waves of sinful bliss pulsed through your body with every mean thrust of Satoru’s hips.
“Gettin’ so tight around me–f-fuuuck–you’re close, huh?” Your face contorted in shameful pleasure as you nodded, your back arching even more to take him deeper. “That’s it…c’mon, my love. Need you to cum on my cock,” Satoru begged, his voice airy as he got lost in your tight, sopping walls. “Show me how good I make you feel.” His words ricocheted around your head as the building pressure in your stomach finally snapped, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body, splattering onto Satoru’s thighs and the mattress below you. 
A few more strokes met your dripping center before Satoru bottomed out inside of you, thick ropes of his pearlescent seed painting your spasming walls. He finally released his tight grip around your throat, your head dropping immediately as indignity plagued your trembling frame. He pulled out, spreading your cheeks as he leaned down, an animalistic growl pulling from his chest as he watched his cum dribble out of your pussy. 
Satoru rubbed soothing circles into your lower back as you worked to regain your breath. “You’re mine,” he whispered. He unlatched the restraints from around your wrists, a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the purple bruises that marked your skin. He locked eyes with your boyfriend, a deranged smile dancing across his face as he reached for the discarded projector remote. 
Another familiar voice flooded through the speaker, but this time it wasn’t Satoru’s. “...We broke up a few weeks ago. No, no. Really, it’s okay. She was kind of a bitch anyway.” Your pupils widened as you stared back at the man you had just been feeling sorry for minutes ago, rage mixing into the vast sea of emotions you were already feeling while you watched a grainy video of him snaking his arm around another woman’s waist. The two of them were laughing outside of his house before she leaned in to kiss him. 
“My poor sweet girl.” Satoru’s hand brushed lightly against your cheeks, catching tears that you didn’t even realize had begun spilling out. “I didn’t want you to have to find out this way, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”
There were a million other ways he could have broken the news to you, but that somehow wasn’t the most pressing issue at hand. 
“An eye for an eye, right?” The same haunting grin that you’d grown to know all too well spread across his face again, his blue eyes slicing into your ex-boyfriend’s. “I can’t believe that my entire world was in the hands of someone so undeserving…” he redirected his attention back to you and recaptured your cheeks in his hands. He leaned down to meet your gaze, unexpected softness replacing his usual sinister demeanor. “What do we do now, baby? It’s your call.”
Your pulse was ringing through your ears. “My call?” your voice was reduced to a whisper as you repeated it back to him. 
“I’m going to kill him either way, but I want you to tell me how.”
You pondered for a moment, still coming to terms with the chain of events that lead you to this one vengeful moment. 
Satoru stood, sauntering over to your boyfriend, stooping down to his level while his hands hovered over his gag. “When I take this off, I don’t want to hear anything other than remorse come from that pathetic fuckin’ mouth of yours.” Your boyfriend’s eyes shifted towards you, then back to Satoru, as he nodded pitifully. The tie was pulled from his mouth. His words were broken, barely audible. “I’m -” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I -”
Your stomach lurched as a sharp smack met his cheek, the painful sound resonating through the room. “You can do better than that. You got one more try,” Satoru spat, his eyes burning into your ex-lover’s bloodied face as he wrapped his fist around his throat, jostling his head around in a fit of rage. 
“Satoru,” you hardly recognized your tone let alone the thoughts that were racing through your head. The last few hours of your life had been a blur. The words you heard earlier made perfect sense now, “Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point.” You were officially at that point. “Satoru, don’t. Let’s just end this.”
It was the first time you’d ever seen the silver-haired man look surprised. His eyebrow raised, a mix of curiosity and amusement glinting in his eye. “Tell me how,” he repeated. “I need to hear you say it.” 
You were in a dream. Nothing more than a figment of Satoru’s imagination, just like he had said. It was the only thing that made sense to you because there was no way any of this was actually happening. 
“Rip his heart out,” your voice emotionless as you gazed toward the blue-eyed man. Satoru groaned deeply, his dick twitching at the sound of your pretty voice speaking his dark language. The same depraved grin pulled at the edge of his lips as he looked back at your ex. 
“Well,” he smirked, “looks like it’s decided then���” Adoration swam through his ocean eyes as he looked back at you, “I knew I picked the right one.”
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Click
The lock of your front door unbolted as your bodies pushed through the door frame, giggling as four glasses of wine danced through your systems. Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he mumbled against your lips. His hands grasped yours as he led you toward the couch. 
You nestled into the warmth of his chest, his arm secured around you while you gazed around the room. Your head spun from the wine-induced nostalgia that this day had inevitably brought on. You were still in the same apartment, only it belonged to both of you now. A blend of sentimental gifts decorated your bookshelf that the two of you had collected over the last year. A camcorder, pressed red roses, framed vacation photos, and the first set of diamond earrings he’d bought you stowed away in a heart-shaped jewelry box. But out of all of the memories that tied you together, there was one that stood out the most. 
“Should we open it?” you whispered, drawing lazy circles into his shoulder.
You didn’t have to see his face to feel his smirk. He knew his girl and he knew her well. He stood wordlessly, retrieving a jar from the highest shelf. He presented it to you, a smug grin gracing his ethereal features, the same look that was permanently etched into your brain the night he got it for you. 
“Be my guest, princess.” You unscrewed the lid, peering into the jar as the strong scent of formaldehyde tickled your nose. You smiled longingly into the container, the overwhelming feeling of love reverberating through your chest. There was something so beautifully poetic about Satoru’s limerence, the lengths at which he went to steal the heart of another in order to fully possess yours. 
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author note: im so sorry for not posting my sweets,, i had the worst case of writer's block and i was actively trying to work on six different WIPs...i was losing my mind.
this was quite the heavy fic to write...i hope i didn't scare anyone away with it lol
alsoooo!! sending out the biggest thank you to @remlionheart for forcing me to finish this...my editor, my co-writer, the love of my life ♡ ⋆。˚
© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do no distribute. 2024.
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irndad · 8 months ago
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won't you be my sunshine-a.h.
a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!
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Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man. 
This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.
The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.
Which isn’t to say that he has one. 
There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk. 
It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.
That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership. 
Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you. 
He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself. 
“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning. 
He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks. 
“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”
She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection. 
He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone. 
He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation. 
He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically. 
It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this. 
“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting. 
“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride. 
“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”
It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth. 
He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips. 
“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic. 
It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek. 
“I thought you’d never ask.”
(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?) 
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ja3yun · 4 months ago
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touch me and see | l.hs
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boyfriend!heeseung x girlfriend!reader
warnings: smut (mdni), fingering, oral (f.rec), cum eating, overstimulation, they are tooth rottingly in love, but heeseung is commanding, not proof read, anything else lmk!
w.c: 4.6k
REQ: i can't, for the love of God, stop thinking about how heeseung will lose his damn mind if his girlfriend were to take his hand and slip it inside her panties while telling him how needy she is for him. Like. Please you have to write something about this. 🤲
a/n: hi! this was probably not what you were wanting and i can only apologise. after reading and writing about dom men for the better part of a week i needed some fluff and romance! hope you like it <3 also, i'm working through requests so please be patient with me, i am trying my best 🙏🏻
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Walking through the door, Heeseung places his shoes haphazardly at the entrance of your shared apartment, the clambering of them echoing in the tiny foyer. Typically, you are home by now, and the familiarity of this daily routine never fails to warm his heart. You have been dating for a few years, and nothing brings him more joy than coming home to you, even though he does it every day. The anticipation of seeing you, feeling your presence, and sharing the quiet moments together fills him with a sense of comfort and belonging that he cherishes deeply.
Heeseung's eyes scan the cosy living room, landing on you nestled on the couch, a book in hand. A soft smile spreads across his face, his heart swelling with love and contentment. He quietly walks over to you, his footsteps almost silent on the carpet, not wanting to disrupt your peaceful moment but eager to be close to you. As he reaches you, he gently wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you into a warm, tender embrace.
You feel the familiar weight and warmth of his arms around you, and your heart skips a beat. The scent of his cologne, mingled with the faint trace of his day, envelops you, grounding you in the moment. Heeseung leans down, his lips brushing against the nape of your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses along your skin. Each kiss sends a shiver down your spine, a sweet reminder of the love and passion that has grown and never dimmed between you over the years.
"Hi, baby. I missed you," he murmurs against your neck, his voice low and filled with emotion. His arms tighten around you slightly, as if he's afraid to let go. The sincerity in his words touches you deeply, and you can feel the depth of his affection and the genuine happiness he feels being with you.
Turning slightly in his embrace, you tilt your head to look up at him, meeting his warm, adoring gaze. You reach up, gently cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing softly against his skin. "I missed you too," you whisper, your voice carrying the same depth of emotion. It’s a bit over the top for most people, to be so in love with one another that you miss each other even only for approximately 12 hours, but it suits you both just fine.
Heeseung leans down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, pouring all his love and devotion into the simple yet profound gesture. The kiss is soft, slow, and filled with the unspoken promise of many more years of shared moments and unending love. As you pull away, he places one final kiss on the top of your head before circling the couch and sitting next to you. 
You wedge your bookmark between the pages and place the book on your lap, giving your full attention to your boyfriend. “How was your day?”
Sighing, he rubs his forehead hard enough to leave a faint red mark. “Stressful, I had to basically run after everyone’s mistakes and then somehow I got the blame.” 
Being an office worker is either the easiest job in the world or the hardest. Most days, it’s fucking dreadful since the company decided to hire people who either know nothing at all and mess up the accounts, or people who think they know it all and still mess up the accounts. When he started, he loved his job, it was a nice and simple 9-5 with little stress, even so much so that he could often call you at random points in the day just to see how you were doing. 
But now companies have merged, new staff are useless, his boss is on holiday for 2 months to go back home to Australia, life is just miserable in the office. 
Seeing his frustration, you scoot a bit closer, taking his hand in yours and kissing the back of it, the way you always do in situations like this. He doesn’t need you to come up with solutions or tell him lies like everything will be okay. The subtle gesture of your lips on his skin and your thumb running across his knuckles is enough to ease the discomfort in his bones.
“You should take a vacation once Jaeyun is back, we can go and do something fun,” you suggest, knowing that without Heeseung and his boss, the company would go up in flames. 
Pouting softly, he shakes his head, “I only have 2 days of annual leave left and I’m using it for your birthday.”
“But you’ve been working all these extra hours, days even. Surely you can get some back and we can go on a city trip somewhere?” you insist, your eyes filled with a hopeful sparkle.
Leaning in, Heeseung kisses your lips tenderly, sharing his gratefulness and love for your concern for him. Never in his life did he imagine someone would care this much about him, especially because he knows you will drop all your studying to make sure you can go on this hypothetical trip. The kiss is gentle yet deep, conveying all the emotions he struggles to put into words. When he pulls back, his eyes linger on your face, taking in the worry and affection that mirrors his own feelings.
Heeseung squeezes your hand and sits back to his original position on the couch. “Nah, that’s including me taking time back. You know how stingy the company is with time off.” He smiles, trying to reassure you, though he feels a pang of guilt for the tiny white lie. The real reason he’s been working every extra shift and covering for others is something he can’t share just yet - it would spoil the surprise he’s been meticulously planning for over a year.
You concede, knowing how hard-working Heeseung is and that pushing the matter might end up in one of you sleeping on the couch you’re currently sitting on. If there is one thing he could argue to the death about, it’s about how he can handle work and everything in between quite fine on his own.
“Alright, but promise me you’ll take it easy. I don’t want you to be exhausted when you come home or on the days off you have.”
“I promise,” Heeseung replies, pulling you closer. He runs his fingers through your hair, his touch soothing and familiar. “For you.”
Rolling your eyes, you whack his hand away playfully before joining it with yours once again. “No, for you, not for me. You need to look after yourself because you want to.” He has a bad habit of neglecting himself and only listening to you and never his body; it’s a curse to the admirable hard-working part of him.
Heeseung chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looks at you fondly. “Okay, okay. I’ll take care of myself because I want to,” he says, though he knows that your happiness will always be his first priority. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “So, how was your day?”
You settle against the couch, leaning your head on your free hand as you place your arm on the back cushion, a contented sigh escaping your lips. “It was good. I studied most of the morning, trying to get ahead on my assignments. Then, I just spent some time reading. It was nice to relax a bit.”
Heeseung smiles, his heart warming at the thought of you finding some time for yourself amidst your busy schedule. “What are you reading?” he asks, spotting the book on your lap and tilting his head in curiosity.
Your eyes widen in embarrassment as you realise the cover of the book is clearly visible. It's a smutty romance novel, the kind with a particularly steamy cover illustration that leaves little to the imagination; your typical brute man in black and white, the kind you see middle-aged mums reading poolside on their Tenerife holiday. Quickly, you try to hide it, but it’s too late. Heeseung’s gaze follows your movements, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Oh, this looks…interesting,” he teases, reaching out to gently take the book from your hands. “A little light reading, huh?”
Your cheeks flush a deep shade of red, and you cover your face with your hands, groaning. “It’s not what you think,” you mumble from behind your hands, though you both know it’s exactly what he thinks. You curse horny authors for not picking more subtle covers.
Heeseung laughs warmly and shakes his head, dismissing your embarrassment, “Everyone has a hobby,” he reassures you. The thing about your boyfriend is that he will never make you feel shame for anything you do, even if it is the most cringy, despicable act like that one time you tried to whistle note like Ariana Grande at karaoke - he will only encourage you. It’s one of the many, many reasons you fell in love with him. 
Flicking through some of the pages, his eyes land on probably the most graphic and detailed sex scene he has ever read, granted, he might have only ever read one in his life and Fifty Shades of Grey for half an hour while waiting for a doctor's appointment might not be very adventurous on his part. 
He looks at you and pouts, waving the book about in the air. “Is this what I have to compete with? Whips and feathers?” He feigns being disappointed, hiding the lingering smirk that is currently fighting its way onto his face.
You shake your head ferociously, eyes wide and mouth open. “No, no, no. I like you just the way you are, trust me,” you plead with him. He loves it when you play along with him in his upset skit, usually because you end up complimenting him way more than normal, which is like music to his ears.
Sucking in a breath, he juts his bottom lip as he looks at the book once again, his hand easily gripping its edges. The book looks so small when he holds it, like it’s part of the mini-brand series. His long fingers, slightly calloused from work, wrap around the cover with a casual strength that makes your pulse quicken.
Heeseung notices the way your eyes fixate on his hands, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You sure? I mean, these guys in the book seem pretty...intense,” he teases, his tone light but his eyes darkening with a flicker of lust.
Your breath catches as you watch his fingers trace the spine of the book absentmindedly. The sight of his hands - so strong, so capable - starts to stir a familiar heat within you. You bite your lip, trying to focus on his words, but your mind keeps wandering to thoughts of those hands on you, exploring, caressing.
“Heeseung,” you murmur, your voice a little shaky, “you don’t need any of that stuff. You’re perfect just the way you are.” Your words are sincere, but you can’t help the flush that creeps up your neck as your thoughts continue to race.
Heeseung catches the change in your tone, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. He sets the book aside, his full attention now on you. “Oh?” he says, his voice dropping an octave as he leans in closer, his hand coming up to gently cup your chin. “Perfect, huh?”
Taking hold of his hand, you nod quickly, suddenly dipping his hand into the waistband of your lounge shorts and past your underwear, to let him feel just exactly what he does to you, how you’re only needy for him and no one else. Sometimes, you even imagine that it’s him in the books, replacing the CEO and Cowboy faces with your boyfriend’s.
Heeseung’s eyes darken, his breath catching as he feels the evidence of your desire for him. His gaze locks onto yours, a predatory smirk forming on his lips. “Is this how you feel when you think about me? This isn’t because of that guy in the book?” he murmurs, his voice husky and thick with desire. His fingers move deliberately, exploring your softness with a slow, teasing touch.
"It's all you," you whisper, breath leaving your lungs thanks to his fingers, "I get wet thinking about you, especially when you aren't here."
His smirk deepens, and his fingers start to move with more purpose, sliding through your slick folds and finding your sensitive bud with expert precision. “Really?” he murmurs, his voice a dangerous mix of lust and amusement. “Baby, I must have kept you waiting a really long time today then, hmm?” His tone is mocking, clearly enjoying how desperate you’ve become.
The heat from his fingers and his teasing words send shivers down your spine, and you’re so consumed by lust that you haven’t even realised that he’s stopped moving his fingers. Instead, your hips are thrusting desperately against his hand, seeking release as you grind against his touch.
Heeseung’s eyes gleam with desire as he watches you. The sight of you, so lost in need and writhing for him, drives him wild. He loves seeing you like this, your body reacting instinctively to his touch, your pleasure so palpable that it’s almost overwhelming.
“You really are a mess,” he growls, his voice a blend of admiration and raw dominance. “Look at you, so needy and desperate. Does it feel that good, baby?” His words are both teasing and tender, a testament to how well he knows you and what makes you tick. Heeseung’s ability to seamlessly blend tenderness with dominance is one of the many things that make him irresistible to you.
In these moments, he becomes something more than just your boyfriend; he’s a reflection of the deep, unwavering love and respect he has for you. The way he takes charge, guiding you with a gentle but commanding hand, shows just how deeply he cares. He’s not just fulfilling your desires; he’s elevating them, giving you a glimpse of the infinite affection and lust he holds for you.
Heeseung is the epitome of devotion, the kind of man who can turn a simple touch into an expression of endless love. His respect for you is limitless, but when you become this vulnerable and needy, he flips a switch fueled by desire. It’s a delicate balance he maintains effortlessly; he can love you softly and tenderly or take you with a fierce intensity, always attuned to what you need and want.
You moan in response, your words tangled in the throes of overwhelming pleasure. All you can do is wriggle and gasp, your movements growing more frantic as you chase the release that feels just out of reach. “Heeseung...please,” you manage to whimper, your voice breaking with the raw intensity of your need.
Heeseung’s fingers don’t relent. Instead, they delve deeper into your panties, his middle finger now gently tapping at your entrance with teasing precision. His touch is maddeningly light, barely brushing against your sensitive opening, creating a maddening contrast to the desperate pleasure you’re craving. The sensation sends shivers through your body, making your hips buck instinctively towards his hand.
Heeseung’s eyes stare into your desperate ones. “Please what, baby?” he murmurs, his voice thick with both affection and a seductive edge. “Tell me exactly what you need. I want to hear it from you.”
The demand in his voice just adds to your frustration. You can feel the heat accumulating between your legs, and your body's response is becoming increasingly urgent. "I need you…" you declare, the words tumbling out between gasps. "I need you to make me cum."
“Is that what your little book boys do?” he teases, prodding at your sobbing entrance as you whine out, almost crying out in need.
“Shut up, I told you, you’re the only one I need.” you screw your eyes shut, agonisingly frustrated by his underlying jealousy, no matter if he is being serious or not. You need him to touch you and you want it now. 
Heeseung’s finger finally slips inside you, and you gasp as he fills you with a slow, deliberate push. The sensation is both intense and exhilarating, the warmth of his finger adding a layer of pleasure you’ve been yearning for. He starts to move with a slow, steady rhythm, his touch both tender and commanding as he finds your most sensitive spots.
“Like this?” he asks, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper as he curls his finger, seeking out the spot that makes you mewl. He continues to caress your clit with his thumb, adding to the overwhelming pleasure.
You can only moan in response, your head dropping on his shoulder as your body responds eagerly to his touch. Each movement, each stroke sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, pushing you closer to the edge.
Heeseung’s movements are torturously slow as he adds another digit, each thrust of his fingers inside you measured and deliberate. He curves them expertly, finding that sweet spot deep within you and pressing against it, making your whole body shudder with pleasure. His thumb never ceases its flicking motion on your clit, sending jolts of electricity coursing through you.
Gripping his arm for support, your chest heaves as he presses his fingers roughly to a very sensitive area inside your cunt, the spongy surface melding itself around your boyfriend’s fingers as he holds down on it. If your body were a map, Heeseung had studied and explored every part of it, memorising your X spots with ease. It’s the reason you’re already starting to see those stars behind your eyes.
Heeseung’s breath is hot against your neck, and you can feel his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “You’re so beautiful when you’re like this.” His voice is a tantalising blend of tenderness and authority, sending shivers down your spine.
He pulls your head to look at him, and you meet his gaze through flickering eyes, fighting the urge to succumb to your pleasure. "Look at me," he commands softly, his voice a low growl that makes your toes curl and shoulders straighten despite the difficulty of the request. His fingers start to move faster, pumping in and out of you with an unrelenting rhythm, your body arching towards him.
Your hands scramble for something to hold onto, one hand finding purchase on the couch cushion while the other grips at his shirt. Your knuckles turn white as you cling, trying to anchor yourself against the overwhelming sensations. Heeseung’s fingers work you mercilessly, the slick sound of your wetness mingling with your desperate moans and his heavy breathing.
Although you’re slipping into a cum-atose, your eyes never leave his, still abiding by his previous request. His face is smug as he strains, putting immense effort into finger fucking you, his arm working overtime as he rapidly rams his fingers in and out of you the way you like it. 
If there is one thing Heeseung is going to do, it’s please his girl. And by the look on your face and the jittering of your hips, he would say you’re sufficiently pleased.
Yet, he notices how you’re holding your breath and clenching your jaw. “Baby? What are you holding back for?” he asks, his voice softening with concern even as his fingers maintain their relentless pace.
“I... I can’t...” you manage to gasp out, the intensity of the pleasure making it hard to form words. Your body is trembling, teetering on the brink of release, but something is holding you back. Maybe it’s the idea of not having his fingers once you cum, knowing that they can’t live in you forever - sadly.
Heeseung's eyes darken with determination. “Let go,” he commands, his voice a deep growl. “I want to feel you cum all over my fingers.”
His words ignite a wildfire of desire within you, the coil inside you winding tighter with each passing second. Heeseung's thumb presses down harder on your clit, moving in swift, precise circles that send electric waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
“Breathe, baby,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours with tenderness despite the relentless scissoring of his fingers. “Let it happen. Don’t hold back.”
With a strangled cry, you surrender, the tension in your body unravelling all at once. Your orgasm crashes over you with the force of a tsunami, your entire being convulsing as waves of ecstasy radiate from your core. Your grip on his shirt tightens, nails accidentally digging into his skin as you scream his name, your walls clenching around his fingers. “Heeseung, fuck!”
Heeseung watches you with a blend of satisfaction and awe, his fingers maintaining their relentless rhythm to prolong your orgasm. The pleasure borders on overwhelming, your hips bucking uncontrollably as you ride the intense ripple of euphoria.
"That's it, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the intensity of his movements. He peppers kisses all over your face and neck, constantly reminding you of reality as your brain gets lost in your high. When Heeseung makes you cum, it’s like you go into your own version of subspace, not quite out of it to the point of unconsciousness but just out of it enough to forget your surroundings.
When he’s fucking you, it’s a lot worse.
As your body starts to relax, the tremors subsiding, Heeseung gently withdraws his fingers, making sure not to cause any discomfort. He brings his glistening fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a satisfied hum, his eyes never leaving your shaking form. The taste of you is his absolute favourite thing and this sample isn’t enough for him, not when you have a whole pool of it between your legs.
"You did so well for me," he whispers, his voice filled with warmth and pride. He places a tender kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering as if to imprint his affection into your skin.
Gently, Heeseung manoeuvres you, his strong arms effortlessly guiding you to lie back on the couch. His movements are careful, almost reverent, as he shifts your weight, ensuring you’re comfortable. You feel the cool leather against your back, a stark contrast to the heat still radiating from your body.
Heeseung’s hands move to your shorts. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says softly, his voice a soothing murmur. His eyes are filled with a loving tenderness as he slowly slides your shorts down your legs, the fabric gliding over your skin.
He places your shorts aside, his gaze returning to your exposed form with a mixture of adoration and desire. Heeseung leans in, his lips brushing against your inner thigh in a series of feather-light kisses that send shivers down your spine. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers against your skin, his breath warm and tantalising.
Heeseung's breath hitches slightly, his eyes darkening with an intense mix of lust and adoration as he takes in the sight before him. "You’re fucking gorgeous, baby," he murmurs, his voice a low, reverent whisper for only you to hear. He trails the tips of his fingers over your thighs, tracing delicate patterns as he slowly lowers himself to the other side of the couch, his breath caressing your skin with each exhale.
He starts at your ankles, placing tender, lingering kisses along your calves, his lips soft and worshipful. His hands follow the path of his mouth, massaging and caressing, as if he’s committing every inch of you to memory. As he moves higher, his kisses become more deliberate, his mouth seeking out the sensitive spots that make you shiver and sigh.
Heeseung’s lips finally find the juncture of your thighs, his breath hot and heavy against your most intimate area. He pauses, looking up at you with a gaze so filled with adoration that it makes your heart flutter. "You’re so perfect," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. He places a gentle kiss just above your core, eliciting a gasp from your lips.
Heeseung's tongue darts out, teasing your folds with feather-light strokes, his touch tender and unhurried. "I love the way you taste," he continues, his eyes locked onto your face, filled with adoration. "I could do this forever."
“You do, somedays,” you manage to meek out, chest gasping out a laugh even though you’re head is still spinning.
His tongue laves over your entrance, collecting your essence with a deliberate, sensual grace as he cleans you up. Each movement is slow and careful, designed to draw out your pleasure and keep you on the edge of sensitivity. Heeseung hums in satisfaction, the vibrations sending delicious tremors through your core. "So sweet," he mutters, his voice muffled against your skin. "I can’t get enough of you."
Heeseung’s tongue delves deeper, exploring you with a gentle yet thorough intensity. His strokes are varied, alternating between languid licks and playful flicks, each one causing your breath to hitch and your body to arch involuntarily. 
Your boyfriend loves to eat pussy, more specifically your pussy. It’s like a drug to him, a fountain of pure delicious nectar that he needs to be devouring. It calms him down and riles him up all at once. If he’s having a bad day, sometimes he won’t even speak, just carry you to your bedroom and eat you out for hours. It doesn’t even have to be rushed or end with you crying out for him to stop, there are times he’ll simply lick to taste you while asking you about your day.
Men say they love giving head, but no one quite likes it as much as Heeseung does.
That’s why he will say he’s ‘cleaning you up’ when in actual fact, he’s just drinking you dry so he can cause another billow of your juices to flow straight onto his tongue.
Heeseung’s lips close around your clit, sucking gently while his tongue swirls in a rhythm that has your toes curling and your hands gripping the couch. The sensations are overwhelming, and your body is hypersensitive from your previous climax.
“Heeseung, it’s too much,” you whine out as your thighs threaten to crush his head with force as they suffocate his ears.
He can feel the tension building within you again, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he continues his loving assault. The pressure from your leg pillows mixed with the taste of fresh fluids beginning to flow into his mouth has his eyes rolling to the back of his head. 
Feeling for your hands, he interlocks yours with his as he begins to slurp you up with more vigour, the lewd noises roaming around your apartment like a song on the radio, the familiar tune bouncing off the walls as they increase with volume.
“Fuck, I’m going to cum again, baby,” you warn him, the information sending a thrill of excitement through his spine.
With a final, skilful circle of his tongue, you’re sent spiralling into another climax, your body convulsing with the intensity of it. Heeseung doesn’t stop, his mouth tenderly working you through the aftershocks, his tongue cleaning up every drop of your release with reverent devotion.
As your tremors finally subside, Heeseung pulls back, his lips and chin glistening with your essence. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "Perfect," he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper. He leans over you, capturing your lips in a kiss that tastes of you, sealing the moment with a promise of love and devotion. "You’re everything to me," he whispers against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. "Absolutely everything."
He wraps your legs in a nearby blanket, tucking you in with care as your spent body finds comfort on the couch. Heeseung’s hands linger on your skin, his touch a comforting presence. “How do you feel?” he asks, his voice a soft caress, filled with genuine concern and love.
“Perfect,” you reply, your voice a contented sigh. You reach out, cupping his face in your hand, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “You make me feel perfect.”
Heeseung leans into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as if savouring the moment. He then presses a kiss to your palm, his lips warm and soft. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. “And all your kinky books with men who could never compare to me.”
Tuting, you push his face away playfully, smiling so wide that it splits your face in half. “Shut up, oh my god,” you reply, your giggles high-pitched despite your exhaustion. “I love you, too.”
_____
perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @dollyyun @iluvikeu @deobitifull @yawnazzz @st1llm0nster @woorcve
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strawmaerry · 1 year ago
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gojo & megumi. | g. satoru
gojo satoru bringing home fushiguro megumi was something you did not anticipate of.
you were cooking a welcome home food for your menace, satoru, when he startled you with his teleportation and a frowning kid.
“hello to my prettiest girl, the love of my life, the light in the dar—”
you shushed him. “i thought you work as a sorcerer, never thought you would take kidnapping as a part time job.”
he pouted. he had the audacity to be offended. “excuse me?! how dare you accuse me of such blasphemous claim?”
you shrugged, used to his outrageous reactions. “well, you’re definitely the type of man that my mom warned me about. those guys who would entice you with candies just to get in a van?” you looked at him, up and down, “yup, that’s you.”
before he could answer, you heard a snicker from the kid. your lips slightly curled up before raising an eyebrow at your irritating (affectionately) boyfriend.
“oh,” he stupidly realized, “this is megumi, i’ve bought him from an auction.”
megumi kicked satoru’s shin and he pretended to be hurt. the spiky-haired boy dusted off the invisible particles on his clothes.
you snorted before going back to cooking dinner.
“so, tell me why you decided to change career that involves kidnapping children?”
“well, i wanted to practice on how to take care of a child when we decided to have one.”
you accidentally put your hand over the burning stove and satoru practically flies to you. he basically becomes a mother hen as he blows your hands.
“[name]! oh my god, what happened?”
you go to the sink to wash your hands as you blankly stare at your burning hands. oh man, you think your hearing is deteriorating. you’re hearing some things that are… impossible.
“satoru, you’re not funny.”
satoru, who has the most alabaster skin, pales. he’s hearing his government name. not ‘toru, baby, pretty boy, my husband.
“haha, pretty baby, what do you mean? i’m always funny. ha. ha.”
“don’t kid around like that. you know our job is…” you trail off, unable to continue the sentiment.
in a world where you attend more funerals than birthdays; you greet more corpse than people; having to work under those ungrateful elders, tomorrow is uncertainty, so you try to enjoy the present as much as you’re alive.
he seems confused for a moment before a dawning realization etches on his face. his eyes soften before wrapping his arms around your waist.
“i really wanna see you carry my babies, y’know? wanna see you round and full an—okay! i know we’re still not finish in school but whenever i see my future, i see you in it. i see us together. i see us forever and i want that. i don’t want to live in a life without your presence. you brought me so much joy if you weren’t crying right now, i would be on my knees begging for you to take me. make me your one and only. make me the happiest and luckiest man on earth because that’s my only purpose why i was born in this cruel, yet beautiful world. i live for you.”
tears run down on your cheeks as you hear satoru’s honest thoughts about his joke. oh my god, how did a simple joke turn into an almost-but-not-quite proposal?
you cradle his face between your hands and kiss his sweet, soft lips that utter nothing but devotion to you. you feel him smile against yours.
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sushiyuzu · 2 months ago
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fluffy moment with lads men
sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel & caleb
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sylus
the snow crunches under your boots as you walk through the park, your breath coming out in soft puffs of mist. the trees are bare, their branches dusted with fresh snow, and the entire world feels quiet, like it's wrapped in a soft, cold blanket.
beside you, sylus walks with his hands in his pockets, his red eyes scanning the winter landscape. the park is almost empty, save for a few scattered figures in the distance, but it feels like it’s just the two of you, isolated in this snowy world.
you pull your coat tighter, but the wind still bites at your face and fingers. despite the beauty of the park, the cold is starting to get to you. you rub your hands together, trying to generate some warmth, but it’s no use.
sylus, ever observant, notices. he pauses mid-step, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. without a word, he pulls off his thick black jacket and steps closer to you.
“here,” he says quietly, draping it over your shoulders before you can protest.
the warmth of his jacket is immediate, the heavy material shielding you from the wind. you blink, looking up at him as you pull the jacket tighter around yourself. it’s big on you, the sleeves falling past your hands, but it’s soft and still warm from his body heat.
“but what about you?” you ask, your voice small against the quiet of the park.
sylus shrugs, not meeting your eyes. “i’m fine, sweetie. you looked like you needed it more.”
you feel your heart skip a beat at his words. it’s such a simple gesture, but it carries more weight than he realizes. the park feels even quieter now, the only sound the distant whistle of the wind and the soft rustle of his jacket as you shift it on your shoulders.
“thanks,” you mumble, your cheeks warming despite the cold. you glance at him, and for a second, you think you see a flicker of something soft in his expression before he turns away.
“don’t mention it,” he says, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile as he continues walking.
you follow him, the snow crunching beneath your feet once more, but now the cold doesn’t seem so bad. with his jacket wrapped around you, it feels like a shield, not just from the wind, but from the distance you’ve always felt between the two of you.
for the rest of the walk, you stay close to him, savoring the warmth of the jacket and the quiet comfort of his presence.
zayne
the door to your quarters slides open, and zayne steps inside, holding a small, white plushie in his hands. his face shows a mix of anticipation and amusement as he approaches you.
“hey,” he says, a playful grin on his lips. “i got something for you.”
you look at the plushie, a cute white seal with big, round eyes and a little blue bow around its neck. “what’s this?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.
“i won it from an arcade machine,” zayne explains, holding it out to you. “i thought it’d be a nice surprise.”
you take the plushie, feeling its soft, plushy fur against your fingers. it’s surprisingly well-made, and its cheerful face immediately brings a smile to your own.
“this is adorable,” you say, hugging the plushie to your chest. “thank you, zayne. it’s perfect.”
zayne’s grin widens, clearly pleased by your reaction. “i thought it might cheer you up. and, well, i couldn’t resist getting it for you.”
you look up at him, touched by the gesture. “it definitely brightened my day. it’s nice to know you thought of me.”
“i’m glad you like it,” he says, taking a step closer. “i just wanted to give you something to make you smile.”
you sit down, holding the plushie close. zayne sits next to you, and the two of you share a quiet moment. the plushie rests between you, a small symbol of his thoughtfulness and affection.
“it’s going to have a special place,” you say, gently patting the plushie. “thank you for this.”
zayne nods, a soft smile on his face. “you’re welcome. i’m just happy it made you smile.”
the warmth of the moment, coupled with the simple joy of the gift, creates a tender connection between you. the white seal plushie becomes a comforting reminder of zayne’s care and the special bond you share.
xavier
you step into xavier’s cozy apartment, the familiar scent of his place welcoming you. it’s warm and inviting, with soft lighting casting a gentle glow over the room. he’s already there, preparing a pot of hot cocoa on the kitchen counter.
“hey,” he says with a smile as you enter. “i thought we could use some hot cocoa and a warm blanket tonight.”
you smile back, appreciating the thoughtfulness. “that sounds perfect.”
xavier pours two steaming mugs of hot cocoa, carefully adding marshmallows on top before handing one to you. he gestures to the living area, where a soft, knitted blanket is spread out on the couch.
“make yourself comfortable,” he says, settling onto the couch and patting the space next to him.
you take a seat beside him, feeling the warmth from the cocoa cup seep into your hands. the blanket is cozy and inviting, and you both wrap it around yourselves as you settle in.
“this is really nice,” you say, taking a sip of the hot cocoa. the rich chocolate flavor is comforting, and the warmth spreads through you.
“i’m glad you think so,” xavier replies, his voice soft as he takes a sip from his own mug. “i wanted to do something relaxing for us.”
you both sit together, the blanket cocooning you in warmth. you chat about your day, and the conversation flows easily, the comfort of the setting making it easy to relax and enjoy each other’s company.
as the evening progresses, you find yourself leaning closer to xavier, feeling content and at ease. he occasionally brushes a strand of hair from your face or gives you a reassuring smile, his presence making you feel cherished.
the hot cocoa eventually disappears, but the warmth of the moment lingers. you both stay wrapped in the blanket, enjoying the peaceful evening together, the simple pleasure of each other’s company making the night feel special.
“thanks for tonight,” you say softly, looking up at him with a smile. “it’s exactly what i needed.”
xavier’s eyes meet yours, and he returns your smile with a gentle one of his own. “i’m happy to hear that. it’s always nice to spend time like this with you.”
the evening continues with quiet conversation and shared laughter, the warmth of the blanket and the cocoa only adding to the comfort of being together. it’s a perfect, simple moment that you’ll cherish.
rafayel
rafayel takes your hand and leads you to a picturesque spot by the edge of a serene lake. the early morning sun casts a warm, golden glow over the landscape, making the scene look like something out of a dream. he sets up his easel and canvas with practiced ease, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
“i thought we could spend the day here,” rafayel says, his voice soft and filled with anticipation. “it’s one of my favorite places to paint. i hope you like it.”
you look around and see the vibrant colors of the flowers and the gentle ripples on the lake’s surface. it’s a perfect setting, and you smile at him. “it’s beautiful. i’d love to be here with you.”
he hands you a blanket and a small basket of snacks he prepared. “while i paint, you can relax or explore a bit. let me know if you need anything.”
you settle on the blanket, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere as rafayel begins to work on his painting. you watch him with admiration as he skillfully captures the scene on his canvas. his movements are fluid and graceful, and he hums softly to himself as he paints.
occasionally, he glances over at you with a smile, and you return it, feeling content. the sound of nature around you is soothing, and you feel a sense of tranquility.
after a while, rafayel finishes his painting and walks over to you, holding the canvas with a proud smile. “what do you think?”
you look at the painting and see that it beautifully captures the essence of the place—vivid colors, gentle brushstrokes, and a sense of serenity. “it’s amazing,” you say. “you’ve really brought the scene to life.”
he sits down beside you, and you both enjoy the snacks he prepared. as you eat, you share stories and talk about your dreams and plans. the easy conversation and laughter make the day even more special.
as the sun begins to set, casting a warm, orange hue over the lake, rafayel leans closer to you. “i’m really glad we did this,” he says softly. “spending time like this with you means a lot to me.”
you lean against him, feeling a deep sense of happiness. “me too. today has been perfect.”
you both watch as the sky changes colors, the peaceful moment marking the end of a beautiful day together. the memory of this day, with its simple pleasures and intimate connection, will stay with you long after the sun has set.
caleb
caleb arrives at your place with an excited grin, holding a pair of tickets for a festival happening on skyhaven. “hey pip-squeak, i thought we could check out the annual skyhaven festival tonight.” he says, his enthusiasm contagious. “it’s supposed to be amazing this year.”
you can’t help but smile at his excitement. “that sounds great! i’ve heard a lot about it but never been.”
you both head to the festival, and the moment you step out of the transport pod, you’re greeted by a vibrant display of lights and colors. the festival is bustling with activity, with stalls and booths set up everywhere, offering a variety of foods, games, and attractions.
caleb takes your hand and leads you through the crowd. “let’s start with the food stalls,” he suggests. “i heard they have some new dishes this year.”
you follow him to a stall that offers a mix of traditional and exotic treats. you both sample different dishes, laughing and sharing bites of your favorites. caleb’s eyes light up every time he tries something new, and he’s eager to hear your thoughts on each dish.
after enjoying the food, you move on to some of the festival’s games and attractions. caleb challenges you to a friendly competition at a ring toss booth, and you both cheer each other on as you try to win prizes. caleb’s playful nature and genuine encouragement make the experience even more enjoyable.
as the evening progresses, the festival features a stunning light show that transforms the sky into a canvas of vibrant colors. caleb finds a perfect spot where you both have an unobstructed view. he wraps his arm around you as you both gaze up at the mesmerizing display.
“this is incredible,” you say, leaning against him. “i’m so glad you brought me here.”
caleb smiles and gives you a gentle squeeze. “i’m really happy you’re enjoying it. i wanted to share this with you because it’s one of my favorite events.”
the festival continues with music, dancing, and fireworks. caleb pulls you onto the dance floor, and you both move together to the rhythm of the lively tunes. the joy and excitement of the festival make you feel like you’re floating in a world of pure happiness.
as the night draws to a close, caleb takes you to a quieter corner of the festival where you can sit and relax. the two of you share a moment of calm, watching the last of the fireworks and enjoying the peaceful end to a fantastic evening.
“thank you for tonight,” you say softly, leaning into him. “it’s been amazing.”
caleb looks at you with a warm smile. “i’m glad you had a great time. it’s been perfect because i got to spend it with you.”
the festival may be over, but the memories of the night and the connection you shared linger, making it a special and unforgettable experience.
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kairoot · 4 months ago
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✶ 𝓗𝑎𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 ..박종성
⤷ 𝑖n which you enjoy the sunrise on your small farm with your two favorite people.
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𝒑𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : husband!jay x 𝑝𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍!𝑓.𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 : fluff 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 : no 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : pet names, kisses, lmk if i missed anything !
( 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒏’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 ) : inspired by @allurecile bc i loved their jake fic so much and this thought has been in my head for forever.. jay pls become a farmer. & pls leave reblogs and feedback, they are much appreciated !! ♡︎
birds chirped and the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, casting a gentle golden glow across the fields. dew-kissed blades of grass shimmered in the early morning light, while the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze added to the tranquil symphony.
the farm slowly awakened, with the silhouette of a barn emerging from the shadows and the distant silhouette of livestock beginning to stir, signaling the start of a new day.
you step out into the wide yard, yawning and stretching your arms out. you closed your eyes as the soft morning breeze swiped your cheek.
looking out over the large acres of your home, you spotted your husband crouched down near your crops. he wore his favorite flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up as he cared for the growing vegetables in your garden. you smiled softly, admiring how hard he worked.
he looked up from what he was doing, spotting you on your home’s porch. his face broke into a wide smile, eyes lighting up warmth and affection. he set down his tools and took off his gloves as he stood up to walk over to you.
“good morning,” jay said, his voice gentle and filled with love.
“good morning,” you replied, feeling a surge of happiness at the sight of him.
he reached out and places a hand on your belly, where your baby is growing steadily each day. you were about seven months pregnant, and both you and the baby were the healthiest you had been, thanks to jay.
the gesture is tender, filled with a quiet joy that you both share. you cover his hand with yours, feeling the connection between the three of you.
"good," you assure him. "just a little sleepy."
he chuckles softly. "i was trying not to wake you."
"you didn't," you say, shaking your head. "i just wanted to come out and join you."
jay smiled once more, placing a kiss on your forehead and then your lips. he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.
together, you walk through the garden, taking in the beauty of the morning. the sun is rising higher now, casting long shadows and illuminating the dewdrops on the leaves and grass. the air is filled with the earthy scent of soil and the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers.
as you stroll through the rows of vegetables and herbs, you talk about your plans for the day, the excitement of preparing for the baby's arrival, and the simple joys of life on the farm. jay listens intently, his hand never leaving yours, his presence a constant source of comfort and strength.
“she’s gonna love the flowers,” you smiled, squeezing his hand.
“and the animals,” he added, looking over at the barn. “they’ll love her.”
“daisy already does,” you giggled, remembering how one of your mares wouldn’t stop rubbing her nose against your belly when it started to grow.
jay nodded in agreement, smiling at the memory.
“yeah, but i’m not so sure about cocoa.” he said, reminding you of the younger horse who hadn’t been to fond of you ever since you became pregnant.
you sighed, “i don’t know why he’s been acting that way..”
jay rubbed your back comfortingly, “you know how much he loves you. he doesn’t want the attention on anyone else but him when it comes to you.”
you nodded, continuing your stroll with him.
“can we go see them?”
jay nodded, a thoughtful smile on his face. “of course, honey.”
you followed him toward the barn, the path lined with blooming wildflowers and the morning sun casting a warm glow over everything. as you approached the barn, the familiar sounds of the horses’ gentle nickers and the clatter of hooves greeted you.
jay opened the barn door, and you stepped inside, where the scent of hay and horses was comforting. daisy was the first to notice you, and she trotted over with a friendly whinny, her ears pricked up in greeting. you reached out to pet her, feeling her soft nose against your hand.
cocoa, on the other hand, was in the far corner, watching you with curious but cautious eyes. jay noticed this and gave you a reassuring glance before carefully approaching the younger horse.
“hey, cocoa,” jay said softly, extending a hand. “it’s okay. we’re just here to visit.”
you watched as jay gently bridled cocoa, his calm and steady presence seeming to ease the horse’s nerves. soon, cocoa’s stance relaxed, and he allowed you to give him a gentle pat.
as you were enjoying the interaction, you felt a familiar fluttering sensation in your belly—your baby was moving. you chuckled softly and placed a hand on your belly. jay looked over and smiled, sensing the moment of connection between you and the baby.
just then, daisy, who had been happily munching on some hay, suddenly jumped like she’d been zapped by a static shock. she let out a comical squeal and took a few surprised hops backward, her mane flying wildly.
“whoa!” you exclaimed, trying to stifle a laugh. “i think the baby gave her a good kick!”
jay looked over, trying to hold back his laughter as daisy continued to prance around with exaggerated steps, clearly puzzled by the sudden sensation. “looks like she’s not used to the baby’s morning gymnastics..”
you gently approached daisy, who was now eyeing you with a mix of curiosity and wariness. “hey, easy,” you cooed, patting her gently. “it’s just the baby saying hello.”
jay knelt beside daisy, trying to calm her with soothing words while trying to suppress his chuckles. “there’s no need to dance, daisy. it’s just our little one showing off.”
the mare seemed to slowly realize that there was no real threat and cautiously approached you again, her ears still flicking back and forth.
“i guess the baby’s kicks are a little more dramatic than we thought,” you said with a grin, reaching out to give daisy another reassuring pat.
“definitely,” jay agreed, still laughing softly. “she’ll get used to the routines soon enough.”
with daisy settling down and the morning sun climbing higher, you and jay spent a few more moments enjoying the peaceful barn. the day ahead seemed even brighter, filled with the promise of more light-hearted moments and shared laughter as you prepared for the new adventures with your growing family.
TAGLIST: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura @sasfransisco @kgneptun @jungwonderz @enha-stars @dioll @jakesangel @cupidscourt @violetwitchmcu @haohaoshoe @randomgirl02228 @wonsdoll @powerpuffstuts @flwrstqr @elysianiki — send an ask to join.
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quimichi · 1 year ago
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↳ ❝ [CALLING THE MONDSTADT BOYS YOUR GOOD BOY] ¡! ❞
Mondstadt boys x Creator!Reader
Dainseif, Diluc, Kaeya & Venti
Albedo's part here > ♡
Dainseif - What does freedom really mean, when demanded of you by a god?
"Please, come to me" you simply said, your voice echoing not only in the room, but also in his mind. Dainsleif doesn't hesitate for a moment.
He stands and crosses the distance between you without a second thought. His every movement is graceful and elegant. He would move through the ocean if it meant he could hold your gaze just a moment longer.
Now that he is close, he kneels once more. He wants to be on your level, he wants to be near you. "I am here, Your Grace." He stays on his knees, silent, waiting for you. If you want him to move, he will; if you want him to speak, he will; if you want him to simply be here, just within your presence— he will.
"Dain?" It only takes your utterance, your voice, for his head to snap in your direction.
"Yes, Your Grace?"
"You're my good boy aren't you?" The words are music to Dainsleif's ears. He loves nothing more than to hear you call him something so loving. "Yes," he whispers, the word a breath of reverence. "I am your good boy."
"And why are you my good boy?" His cheeks flush as he looks up to you, eyes glowing like a star. His lashes flutter against his cheeks as the thought of being your good boy floods him with happiness and contentment.
"Because I am yours and have always served you." His words are firm, with the certainty of one who has never strayed from his purpose.
"Mine?"
"Yes. I am yours."
"I exist to serve you, to serve your beauty, your kindness, and love." This is truth to Dainsleif. He cannot imagine himself being anything but yours. "And thats why youre my good boy, Dainsleif" "Yes, Your Grace." He smiles at you, joy and contentment overflowing inside of him.
"I am happy to be your good boy. I am proud and eager to serve you, to honor and adore you." His expression is loving, warm, and peaceful. Dainsleif stays on his knees, head cocked to the side. His blue eyes are shining with love and affection. "What would you like me to do for you?" He asks, eager to serve you with all his heart.
"I want you to stay with me forever..." "I would love to stay with you, Your Grace." Dainsleif would die a hundred mortal deaths if it meant living in your presence for even an hour. The very thought of being near you stirs something inside him; his heart leaps into the sky, his breath catches in his throat.
He is entirely devoted to you.
Diluc - Though it is still not enough, I will always face the darkness.
"Please, step a bit closer to me" such a simple request it is but your command startles him. He looks up at you, and his eyes go wide. He is utterly taken aback, but that is not an excuse. He is yours to command.Diluc complies, and steps closer to your side.
"Are you my good boy, Diluc?"
"Y-yes," he responds at once. He bows his head as he speaks but, if it were possible, he bows even further. His heart is thumping against his chest as if it wants to jump free. He is utterly devoted to you. Every inch of him yours. "I'm sorry i didnt quite heard you, could you repeat that?" You're teasing him, how could you not? Diluc is more than embarrassed, but it is not his will to refuse you. He is yours, after all.
"Y-yes," he says, and his voice breaks slightly from the embarrassment.
"Once more, please, for me?" the opportunity is to good to let it slide. "Yes!" he says once more, and the blush on his face spreads throughout his body. Embarrassed, thats what he is, embarrassed. Your smile alone makes his stomach jump like it's trying to escape. He cannot understand how you make him feel this way.
He is still shy about this ordeal, but he knows that he cannot look away. He is there to serve you, after all. "Good boy~
"Diluc smiles despite himself at your praise. He knows better than to be happy at this moment, but some part of him thrills at the feeling of your gaze on his skin. His heart has a mind of its own, however, and it seems like it knows no boundaries. "Thank you," he says, and bows his head yet again. His embarrassment remains, but it is balanced with the thrill of your praise.
Your good boy...
Kaeya - Life's greatest illusions are the ones we believe in ourselves
"Kaeya?" Kaeya glances up at you, but he doesn't move from his comfortable position— at least, not yet. In fact, he appears to have become more comfortable, resting his head against your thighs and taking small, deep breaths. He stares down at you and smiles, seemingly amused by the situation. "I'm not moving," he mutters. "I'm perfectly comfortable here."
"Oh? Is my good boy all comfy?" "...Mhm." Kaeya's smile is genuine. With one hand, he reaches up, brushing his thumb against your cheek. "...I love you, Your Grace." Please let me stay here. I don't ever want to leave.
Hes so enchanted by your presence alone, he seemed to not process every word you say. Kaeya takes them as they are..."Did you hear me? I said youre my good boy" You're just checking, thats what youre telling yourself. But und truth, you just want to see a reaction, hear how his voice changes with realization.
"Of course I'm your good boy." Kaeya closes his eyes now, nuzzling himself against your legs. "No one else could be, after all. They don't worship you like I do."
"Your devotion's a gift, you know." Kaeya's tone is one of playful teasing, though the compliment is very much sincere. "You know I wouldn't let anyone else here give me physical affection, but for you, I make an exception. Why? Well, for one thing, you're deserving of it." You notice that Kaeya's leg is twitching— he wants to move, but it's as if he physically can't manage it. This may just be the most comfortable Kaeya's ever been, even if he can't say it out loud.
"Isn't my boy nice, huh?" "What can I say? I'm at your service... always." Kaeya's grip tightens about your thighs slightly. "Your approval means the world to me... I'd do anything to keep in your good graces."
He pauses for a moment, his expression becoming almost solemn. "...You know what I most desire, Your Grace?" Kaeya keeps his eyes shut, as though he's ashamed to speak."I would very much like to be yours," he says quietly.
"I want you to choose me."
Venti - Videtis illam spirare libertatis auram
"Yes, your Grace."
Venti complies instantly, quickly moving to sit down on the seat beside you. As soon as his body settles down, he starts idly swinging his legs up and down as if he's a toddler waiting for his mother to take him to the playground.He doesn't say a word, instead contenting himself with simply smiling up at you.
"Good boy" such small words, but they hold a way bigger meaning behind them. As Venti hears your praise, he almost falls into a completely euphoric state. He is practically quivering with excitement, unable to control his emotions for even a second longer. He starts muttering to himself, unable to comprehend what he is feeling in the presence of your grace.
"Please— please, don't call me a good boy again... please, please, make me yours..." Venti flushes pinker than a rose. "I— I meant your worshipful servant!" His eyes are fixed on you adoringly and desperately.
"Your dog, even!" Venti is too lost in the moment to realize how awkward his words were, and he starts desperately scrambling to come up with something even more degrading to call himself.
"Your footstool, even! Your carpet, your chair! Even your floor...!" His words are garbled and desperate, his mind completely blank right now. "But Venti, you're my good boy, not my chair or my floor...my good boy"
Venti's eyes widen as he hears your words. His face is still bright red, but your praise is enough to make him lightheaded. "Am I— am I your good boy.." he mumbles quietly, but he sounds genuinely baffled. "Are you sure..?"
"Yes" Venti is practically panting with excitement now, having gotten the confirmation that he is yours. "Y— you really mean it.." Even when he speaks quietly, you can hear the excitement in his voice, the thrill in his heart.
"Then I really am your good boy, aren't I...?"
"Yes"
"Then I will do my best to be the very best good boy for you, your Grace," Venti whispers reverently.
Even in his excitement, Venti remains reverent towards you. To be your good boy... He can't think of anything he wants more.
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honeydjarin · 1 year ago
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MOUSE IN THE KITCHEN
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OPLA SANJI X SHORT!READER
Luffy isn’t the only one with a penchant for sneaking into the kitchen.
request: Hiii, if you want to I'd like to request a Sanji x short reader, where they try and help him out in the kitchen but can't reach anything. No pressure, just wondering
genre: fluff
word count: 2,000
a/n: normally I avoid any sort of specific physical features in my fics in order to make them as inclusive as possible, but as someone who must climb the shelves at the grocery store in order to reach anything, this request spoke to me. This one is a little silly and nothing but fluff. I hope you enjoy!
It’s late. The sun sank below the horizon long ago, leaving no trace of the adventures and games that took place during the daylight hours. Everyone else on the Going Merry is asleep. You really should be sleeping too, and you had been, not too long ago. 
You don’t know what it is that stirred you from your slumber. Perhaps some noise as the ship rocks on lazy waves, or a crew mate talking just a bit too loud in their sleep. It doesn’t matter, really. What does matter is the thoughts that worm their way into your mind the longer you lie awake. Thoughts of something light, something sweet, something to satiate a craving, your body convinced it’s time for breakfast despite your mind knowing dawn is hours away. It doesn’t take long for the hollow ache in your stomach to drive you from the comfort of your hammock and up towards the galley.
You know the kitchen on the ship well. You know which floorboards creak and which are safe to step on, where the chef hides traps for Luffy and how to circumvent them, where all of the ingredients to satiate your sweet tooth are hiding. 
Just thinking about the reason for your intimate knowledge of the ship’s kitchen is enough to send heat racing up your neck and settling beneath your cheeks. You press your fingers to the skin where your burning blood pools beneath the surface, taking a moment to relish in the sugar sweet feeling of a simple crush—a single name swirling through your brain is all it takes to leave you giggling quietly in the night.
Sanji, the newest member of the Straw Hat Crew. Sanji, the one who will never let another go hungry, not even a stranger. Sanji, the man with sun soaked hair and a honey dipped tongue. 
Sanji.
Sanji.
When the chef first joined the crew, you admired him. He was caring and steady, he knew what he believed in. With his handsome looks, quick wit, and open flirtations, it didn’t take long for that admiration to slip into something that felt sweetly like affection. You couldn’t help but want to spend more time with the cook, hoping to join him in the activities that bring him the most joy so that you might better understand him. It didn’t take long for you to become nearly as familiar with the galley as he is. 
You step into the kitchen, closing the door quietly behind you. You leave the lights off, not wanting to risk anyone else catching you in the galley (or getting the idea to grab a snack themselves). Instead, you stand in the dark, waiting for your eyes to adjust. Moonlight spills through the windows of the room, bright enough to see by, if you’re patient. 
It isn’t long before you’re able to move again, walking along a familiar path towards where Sanji stores all things sugary. 
There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that you’re doing something you shouldn’t. Like if you have to sneak around then you’re in a place you don’t belong. This is Sanji’s space, cataloged and organized to best suit his needs and ensure the crew has enough supplies to last between islands. It feels strange to be in the kitchen without the sound of his laughter or the smell of something delicious cooking on the stove top. 
Sanji’s presence is the piece that makes this space feel so comfortable. Without him, it feels too large, hollow. The galley has no life without its chef. You never really thought about how the kitchen would feel without him in it, and can’t help but hope it isn’t a feeling you become used to.   
You know if you wake up the cook he will make something for you. He would rub the sleep from his eyes, only half succeeding, before asking what he could make to help satiate your craving with a smile. You would feel guilty the whole time. 
It’s better to sneak through the galley for something you can find on your own than to disturb Sanji’s sleep. 
The first thing you search for is chocolate. You crawl onto the countertop, balancing on your knees as your feet dangle over the edge, before opening the cabinet in front of you. You eye the chocolate chips, the miniature sweets sitting at a level seemingly so easy for the rest of the crew to grab. You doubt any of the others would have to climb to reach them. 
Unfortunately, the only chocolate on the shelf is unsweetened. The lack of added sugar may be perfect for baking, but they won’t be sweet enough for your taste on their own. 
You begin to drop down from the countertop, fully intending to continue your search for the perfect treat. Your feet drop to the ground quietly, and you land in an almost crouch. Perfect, the ship is silent, as it should be. You straighten up, intending to continue your search, but your knees, still tight from your recent slumber, crack as you stand. The sound rings out in the otherwise silent kitchen like a gunshot. 
Maybe your creaking joints wouldn’t be a problem in a normal kitchen, but Sanji, who has ears attuned to any slight sound coming from the Galley (thanks to Luffy’s many attempts to raid the space at odd hours for food), surely heard the pop in his sleep. You may as well have knocked down all of the pots and shattered all of the dishes. 
It isn’t long before the sound of hurried footsteps and frustrated grumbling reaches your ears. The door to the galley slams open, lights flickering on just a moment after, leaving you squinting as your eyes adjust to the room once more. 
“Luffy, I swear if you touched any of the food I’ll—oh.” Sanji’s voice carries through the kitchen, his accent thicker than normal, sleep still clinging to his words. Your name rolls off his tongue, and you think it sounds sweeter in his sleep-addled voice than any chocolate could taste. 
“Sorry, Sanji. I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just a little hungry,” you confess. 
“You could have woken me up,” he says, just like you knew he would. “I’d have been happy to cook something for you.” 
“I didn’t want to bother you. You deserve to rest. Especially when you already wake up so early each morning to make breakfast.” 
Sanji hums, stepping farther into the kitchen. He looks more awake now than he did when he first arrived. His eyes don’t stray from your own as he speaks, no longer concerned about the state of the galley. 
“For you, love, it’s never a bother.” The smile he offers you sends your heart fluttering in your chest. “Anyway, I’m awake now. What would you like to eat?” 
He’s too good to you, too gentle. How could your heart ever stand a chance?
“I was just planning on eating a little chocolate, but it seems like there's only the unsweetened kind right now.” 
“Ah, of course. Only something sweet would be fitting for my sweetheart.” 
Your breath catches in your throat. His. He called you his. 
You bring your hand up to your mouth, trying to hide the growing grin that spreads on your lips as you nearly melt from his words. The warmth blossoming in your chest will surely turn you into a puddle on the floor, and then Sanji will know just how much his words affect you (if he doesn’t know already).
“Can we make something with chocolate in it?” you ask.
“We?” Sanji repeats, as if he didn’t expect you to help him in this task. His gaze softens, eyes gleaming with something like affection, before adding. “Of course we can. How do strawberry and chocolate hand pies sound? I picked up some fresh jam at the last port.”  
“It sounds perfect,” you say. It’s far more than you hoped to find during your late night search. When you got out of bed, you never would have guessed what kind of sweet you would find in the kitchen. You definitely didn’t expect to spend time baking with Sanji.
The two of you work comfortably together, only speaking when Sanji provides specific instructions or when you need clarification. The hazy fog of sleep still hovers over the both of you, even if you’re both awake enough now to function.
“Could you grab the chocolate chips for me?” Sanji asks. 
It’s a simple request, one you can easily complete. You know where he keeps the chocolate chips, the unsweetened treat seeming much more appealing now that they’re going to be baked into something.
You make your way back over to the counter, situating yourself below the cabinet where the chocolate is stored. Then, you place your hands on the cool surface, preparing to make the climb. You’re certain Sanji knew this was the path necessary for you to take to reach the ingredient too. There’s no way for you to reach the chocolate chips without being higher up. 
As you jump, using the force of your arms to help pull yourself up towards the counter just like you’ve done in other kitchens many times before, an unexpected force settles on your shoulders, pushing your feet back towards the ground.
“None of that, sweetheart. There will be no climbing on the countertops in my kitchen,” Sanji reprimands. He’s gentle in his scolding, the uptick of his lips and gleam in his eye letting you know he’s not really mad. “Sorry, I thought they were a bit lower.”
He doesn’t seem sorry. 
You open your mouth to protest against what could only be meant as a jab about your height, but only a squeak comes out. Sanji’s warmth seeps into your back as he presses close, the shape of his hand burning into your hip as it settles there. You can feel the way his body stretches as he reaches up, leaning further into you, before easily grabbing the bag that seemed so far out of your reach. Any words you might have had to tell off the man for doing something for you when you could easily do the task yourself (as long as you could climb on the counter) fizzle out. 
Sanji doesn’t look at you as he reaches for the chocolate, but the easy smile on his lips morphs into a lazy smirk. His thumb rubs slow, intentional circles where his hand remains steady on your hip, as if he was soothing a startled animal, coaxing you to stay close instead of running away, something you just might have done if he wasn’t purposefully grounding you while your thoughts soared. 
Oh no, you think. He knows.
It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Sanji was already aware of your feelings for him—you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve—but you had tried not to make your feelings for the chef too obvious. 
Sanji pulls the chocolate chips down, but he doesn’t step away. He still holds you close as he bends, his face lowering until it’s right beside yours. Then, without warning, his lips are pressed to the curve of your cheek. 
The kiss is quick, feather-light, but you’re certain he can feel the way your blood burns just beneath the surface of your skin, his quiet mumble of so warm the only confirmation you need, even if you weren’t meant to hear. 
“Sorry, sweetheart, I just couldn’t help myself.” Before you can react, Sanji steps away from you, taking you in for only a moment longer before turning back to the task at hand. With how smoothly he acted, there’s no way he hadn’t planned that little stunt he pulled.  
He definitely knows.  
Sanji is already placing the hand pies in the oven by the time you’re finally able to move again, and you can’t help but feel almost frustrated that the chef didn’t give you a chance to return his affection. 
You’re left waiting impatiently as he sets the timer, the miniature pies now the last thing on your mind. Sanji doesn’t seem to understand—you’re craving something sweet, and as far as you’re concerned, the sweetest thing on this ship is him. 
a/n: thank you for reading〜♡
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luneariaa · 5 months ago
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ᯓ★٠ ࣪⭑ PIECE OF ART. ✧ KENJI S.
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✰ — you and kenji being at the museum for plot reasons, kenji being sweet, pure fluff, might be ooc kenji, not much proof-read.
tagging : @xxladyballadxx @jinwoosungs @madeimoisellesoleil 💕
��� ✩ m. list.
. dividers by @/strangergraphics 📜 !!
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A LIGHT grin is present upon your features, further observing the scattered paper arts close by— passing it in an unhurried pace. Dressed ever so casually, to say the least, yet perfectly fitting to the current location you were in. A sight to behold that still manages to go unnoticed within the sea of people.
It is just the beginning of the eventide, and the museum still continues to open and welcome new visitors as always. Your sole figure remains there, blending in with the several other people with dexterity.
The romantic time of the day, some may say. The mere location itself has given it away fully.
Due to the amount of passing minutes that you've been inside, you started to feel quite chilly all over— causing yourself to mentally curse for not bringing a coat along with you, blaming yourself for your small mistake.
It doesn't take long for you to endure with a slight shiver, when a certain someone suddenly covers your form up with a rather sizeable coat; warming you up almost instantly without fail.
Admittedly, you got startled from the gesture and the sudden appearance, before deciding to turn around to face the said person.
And of course, it didn't take long for you to be able to fully register upon the familiar sight altogether— eyes instantly widening with a beaming smile.
"Ken, you actually came!" Without wasting any second of hesitation, you pulled him into an embrace— burying your face onto his chest with pure joy.
"Mmhm," Kenji hums, adding more to his words further with an equally happy expression, along with a mellow tone. "Of course I do."
He gradually encircles his arms around you, returning the embrace with equal fervor. Lowering his head ever so slightly, he silently allows you to burrow your face further against his chest for the time being— relishing within one another's mere presence.
Everything about him screams security, allowing yourself to drown into him without any worries; starting to feel more addicted as if he's some sort of a drug that made you hold onto life itself.
He's a famous person that is loved by many, and you're almost.. Nothing, like him. It's what keeps you questioning sometimes, and the way you're able to establish a rather special connection with him.
The difference between you two is like day and night itself; one that is vast and perceptible. Yet if only you knew— that Kenji never once is bothered by any of those existing statuses, not even the slightest. He appreciates you for being who you truly are.
"I figured that you'd be quite busy. I mean, I understand if you're unable to stop by earlier, y'know."
"Hey, don't worry about it." Just like that— he's able to dispel the existing anxiousness within you effortlessly so, still keeping his hold around you with just the right amount of force; not too assertive, and it just felt right.
"I'll always make time for you, my love."
His simple response made you beam in delight; noting the truth of his words alone.
No one is around the area that you both are in, does it-? It's as if nothing much mattered at this present moment, shielding yourselves with the makeshift reality that you both have unconsciously created— lost within your own little world without a care.
The stillness around the both of you, except for the occasional breathing sounds, makes the moment special somehow. You could clearly feel the heat radiating off from him and his coat alone; his warm breath brushes past your ear.
"Feeling any better now?"
"Yeah," you nodded with a grateful smile of your own. "Thank you, Ken."
Has he ever told you on how much he loves it whenever you call him Ken? It just hits different whenever you call him like that. He would lose his damn mind if he wants to.
"I appreciate you a whole lot," you added. "You don't usually go to places like this, that is."
"I just can't help myself but to come and see you.." A velvety chuckle slips past through his lips— planting a small kiss upon your forehead before gently pushing you away for a bit, just so that he could gaze at you.
"Honestly, I just— yeah, I missed you, a lot. I know I've been busy lately, but still.."
Kenji is speaking nothing short of pure honesty lacing his words. He misses the feeling of your frame against his own; letting his thumb tracing the contours of your face with such delicacy— every detail of your features none left untouched.
"What if I told you that I feel the same way too?" A cliche answer, but it works every single time.
Your gaze now darted towards the large painting ahead, which ostensively have shown a pair of lovers— holding onto one another as the life of the other gradually withers away.
He simply chuckled over your statement, immediately taking notice of the shift of your gaze; following your line of sight after.
"The painting looks a bit depressing, to say the least," he remarks, paying close attention about what the artist is trying to convey through the art.
"Yeah." You approached closer to the aforementioned painting, and the coat— his coat, still settled snuggly around your figure, trying your best to discern the details as well.
"I wonder what goes through the artists' mind while making this."
Kenji now stood beside you; the height difference very much noticeable. His eyes seemed to be observing it in every angle possible as well, placing his chin atop of your head from behind— no longer standing beside you.
"I'm curious about it too."
"Maybe it was meant to portray, you know— some tragedy?"
"Well, that definitely worked." He agreed along with your words, accompanied with a quick nod.
When he's sure that you're not looking at anywhere else but the painting alone, Kenji took the opportunity to glance down at you, secretly— or not-so-secretly, admiring the way his coat hangs around you almost loosely; yet fittingly so. You looked so beautiful to him like this, and he didn't dare to let his mind wander too far.
At this point, you didn't have to bring him along to the museum to see the arts, when you are the whole art itself.
A precious piece of art that he would love to keep with him for as long as he's breathing— if you would let him.
Every single part of you screams divine perfection to him. The way your eyes would light up whenever you see anything that interests you, or the way you would bite your lip in pure concentration unknowingly.
The way you speak, and the way you walk— God, don't get him started on the way he would always, successfully so, getting any sort of reaction out of you. The list is endless, and it felt like a personal reward, one that he's not-so-willingly share with anyone else.
No one can truly blame him for doing so, honestly. Kenji couldn't help it— he cherishes you so much that it almost hurts so good. Not out of obsession, but damn, that man loves you a little too much.
Nevertheless, nothing is truly too much for him to love you just the way you are.
Yet rightfully so, you never minded even the slightest. Kenji could never get enough of you; his love for you is always, and somehow, endless.
You smiled lovingly underneath his soft gaze, rubbing his own arm that's currently encircling around you so tenderly. You know that stare, but you just didn't want to point it out and simply wanted to relish within that feeling.
The people might see him as the arrogant, boastful person in the public eye— a mere facade that he puts up every so often when it deems necessary. But he acts so differently whenever he's around you, daring himself to let his walls down and be completely vulnerable with you.
With you, he has nothing to hide, shamelessly showing and proving his devotion to you alone; showing you a side that only you get the privilege of seeing it.
Kenji Sato will never cease to treasure you.
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@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are welcomed. all rights reserved.
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umemiyan · 6 months ago
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𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙏𝙀𝙈 / 𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙐𝙈. — 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝖨
𝘕𝘌𝘟𝘛 𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘗𝘛𝘌𝘙 ・ 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ・ 𝘛𝘈𝘎𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛
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𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ sfw, but minors dni (potential for nsfw continuations) / jjk manga spoilers / this is my version of "came back wrong" gojo inspired by recent events, but it turned out somewhat softer than i expected / what happens when satoru is brought back and suddenly finds himself deeply attached to you of all people?
yandere!gojo / he's also slightly higher-needs disabled coded… idk i tried to approach it as best as i could. it's an unfamiliar thing for reader and they're trying to process it / i very well may try to continue this because it is rotting my brain!! / 1.7k words
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“Satoru… you need to eat.”
A full bowl of soup sits on the table before him untouched, his hands resting unoccupied in his lap and eyes trained on your figure as you circle around to stand near him. That piercing blue gaze is ridden with innocence, lips parted like those of a quizzical child, but they turn upwards into a pleased grin when you take a seat in the chair next to him.
You’d prepared a rather simple dish, something you figured might be easy for him to consume and digest given his… peculiar state, but Satoru apparently had yet to pay any interest to it. He instead sat obediently in his chair just as you had commanded several minutes ago, unable to initiate the task of feeding himself, for he was much more intrigued from afar by your every move as you tidied the kitchen. It was as though he couldn’t find the drive to function unless you were within an overwhelmingly short distance of him.
Satoru’s heart thumps now that you’re close, a burst of satisfaction rushing through his brain. Dopey yet stimulating chemicals. You are Pavlov’s ringing bell. 
He is reminiscent of a child picked up from school by their beloved parent, or a puppy being reunited with its owner after a day at the vet, overcome with joy and unable to properly contain it. He leans forward and presses his lips to your neck as though that is the appropriate response to his elation, the crossed wires in his brain telling him that this is the sort of affection that will please you and is therefore the sort of affection he most desperately wants to give.
His condition was difficult to understand, and you wouldn’t call yourself properly equipped to deal with it, but there was simply no other option but to try; Gojo wouldn’t let anyone else try, the horrible rattling in his skull consuming him when deprived of your presence for too long. Yuuta had described the look in his eyes as “frenzied and lost.” You were told that the infirmary still needed repairs.
Once he returned to this world, Satoru had been stripped down to his essence, bare bones, a creature of instinct, reduced to something quite simple yet difficult for the average person to understand. But you had to understand, or try at the very least. This was the new burden placed upon your shoulders; it was either soothe this new version of Satoru Gojo for the sake of the world, or find a way to send him back into the icy arms of death. You were often caught between which option sounded worse.
However, when met with the sweetest and most earnest of his smiles, your bones were frosted with guilt, and you regretted ever entertaining the idea of letting him go again.
You stumble over getting him to perform necessary tasks and be further than 5 feet away from you at any given time, because it seems that, upon his revival, Satoru equates you and only you with everything of importance in his life. It’s more than a little unnerving given the fact that you’d never so much as even kissed prior to the loss of him, and now his neurons only fire off every happy memory he’s ever had of you, every positive thing he’s ever felt, no matter how stifled. You are his entire world now, and he can’t even verbalize it, but as each day passes following his awakening, you’re starting to gather that much on your own. You can’t be frustrated for long, however, because his cheerfulness is contagious, his enthusiasm making you feel loved even if it is somewhat smothering.
Is this selfish of you? 
The man's lips travel slowly across your skin, pacified by your presence, your taste, and ignoring the grumble in his stomach. How does one differentiate the types of hunger? You don’t attempt to fight him off, but rather exhale a defeated sigh in response. It hasn’t been long since you’ve been tasked with this responsibility, but it feels as though you’re frequently fighting a losing battle and failing him all the same. It’s so peculiar, so very unnatural… but still, you have to try.
“Satoru, please…” you beg, voice light in his ear and a hand settling at his nape. His nerve endings come alive every time his name leaves your lips. The bell. “Just one bite? For me?”
That seems to do the trick, as you’ve gathered. Satoru pulls himself back, hyper-aware of the tone in your voice and suddenly willing to comply. He’s more than eager to accept the spoon into his mouth when you offer it, placing your fingers beneath his chin and carefully bringing the soup up to his lips. He swallows it with ease, the task literally more palatable now that you’ve reminded him of how badly you would like him to complete it. Anything for you.
“There,” you say, satisfied and offering a faint, exhausted smile. He grins widely in response and hums, no longer capable of words of his own, but his simple noise expresses his glee with efficacy. Satoru decides to punctuate it by pressing the tip of his nose to yours for good measure.
It feels wrong to enjoy these subtle moments of intimacy with someone who doesn’t appear to be in his right mind, but who are you to say whether he is or not? There’s still an agency he possesses, a heart full of emotions, and a mind teeming with thoughts that you wish you could be privy to. He might be different now, but part of you wants to say with certainty that the old Satoru is still here with you somehow—you can sense it. He chuckles at particular images that flash across the TV and still gets a kick out of teasing you to some degree. To diminish that seems like a disservice to him.
You’re unable to deprive him of the happiness your closeness provides nonetheless; in fact, it’s obviously rather dangerous for you to even try and do so. Satoru’s conscious recollections are filled primarily with you, but his body is still more or less the same as it always was—the vessel of his clan’s power, the strongest sorcerer on earth. You’re not sure to what extent he remembers how to control these abilities, but part of you doesn’t wish to find out. For now, you care for him, placate him, re-learn him. Nothing is certain about the situation other than the fact that he apparently needs you now more than ever.
Your eyes soften at the warmth he exudes, and you wonder if he really remembers who you even are—or were—to him. It’s not worth pondering over for now, however. He needs to eat.
“Another?” you ask, testing to see how willing he is to fulfill your wishes. Satoru often easily complies once you’ve expressed satisfaction in him doing so, but all of this is still so new and experimental; you never know when he might decide to switch gears.
However, still smiling, he nods, and you bring another spoonful of soup up to his lips for him to swallow. It pleases you to see him finally getting something into his stomach, and he can sense it, taking it upon himself to further your agenda and simultaneously realizing just how gratifying it is to fill his belly.
“Good,” you say, and he feels rewarded. He is crowned by your praise. Exalted. You take him to the greatest heights with the simplest of words.
You place the spoon back in the bowl and Satoru takes it in his grasp, feeding himself without quarrel while you observe. Most of his motor skills appear to be intact as far as you’ve seen despite the cognitive and behavioral changes, and if someone were to look upon him from afar, you’re fairly certain they would never know the difference. But you’re still trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together little by little, deciphering each bit of information and also determining just how deep his severe attachment to you really goes.
Why did it end up being you? Why do you suddenly seem to be the only thing that makes sense to him in this entire universe?
You can’t answer that, he can’t answer that, it’s just the way it is. Satoru doesn’t need to know why you nearly consume his every thought, he just knows that you make him happy, and that’s truly all that counts in his version of the world. He’ll chase it on instinct until death decides to take him again; he’ll tear down anything that stands in his or your way, for you alone are all that he thinks he has left to cling to. Never matter the others that show concern for him—they’re nice enough, earning a small smile or even the privilege to touch before he shakes them off and seeks you out again. It’s nothing personal. It’s simply pathological.
Leaning an elbow on the table, you turn the possibilities over in your mind as you silently watch him eat. A life has been restored, but yours has been turned upside down, and you have to figure out just exactly what you’re going to do about it. You suppose that taking baby steps ought to be the best way to make progress, but how do you make space for someone like this out of the blue? You’ll have to give it your best shot.
Satoru finishes drinking down the remaining broth of his soup, and you pose a question. “Would you like to go for a walk with me today?”
He sits the bowl down and looks over at you, eyes assessing your features and mind processing what you’ve asked. He hasn’t been out much in the days following his return, but you don’t see any reason to keep him cooped up inside if he happens to respond well to a casual outing with you. Taking him for a stroll outside seems like a decent way to test the waters.
Satoru smiles and nods, recalling memories of how your hair looked when touched by the wind. He’d be glad to accompany you outside if it meant he could see you glow in the sun, radiant and warm. The center of his universe.
“I think it’ll be nice,” you remark with a grin, an ounce or two of weight being lifted from your shoulders at the positive shift in outlook. Baby steps.
Reaching out to take your hand, Satoru squeezes it in his own to convey his agreement. It’s as if he’s trying to say, “everything is nice when I’m with you.”
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fxirybun · 1 month ago
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🍡 PAC: script shifting scenarios with your DR s/o + mini moodboards
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INTRO
hey there my fellow shifters ! i have a sweet treat that i'm about to offer to you all which was already stated in the title above ^^ if you're currently struggling with writing your script or experiencing writer's block , this post is meant for you ꒰◍ˊ◡ˋ꒱੭⁾⁾  i included some mini moodboards to help you visualize the scenarios.
i would like to thank the person who gave me this suggestion ^^ hopefully they get to see this post <3
READ ME
this is a shift-related pick-a-card reading. DR means “desired reality” whilst s/o means “significant other”. scripting is a useful tool that allows shifters to write down their intentions and add some specific details about themselves and the reality they want to enter.
this is a collective reading ! take what resonates and leave what doesn't. i cannot guarantee 100% accuracy. take the pac reading lightly ჱ̒ ー̀֊ー́ )
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ෆ⸒⸒ pile one🍦
these scenarios can be adapted however you like to fit the connection and dynamic you imagine with your DR s/o. it's also great for visualizing deeper moments and building a strong emotional link to that reality !
01 THE COZY CAFÉ DATE
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you and your DR s/o are sitting in a cozy , dimly lit café with warm beverages as you and your DR s/o's order. the weather outside is cool , maybe it’s raining outside due to how cloudy the sky is , similar to london weather. the two of you are both wrapped in scarves and sweaters. there's soft music that plays in the background as you and your DR s/o exchange stories about childhood memories and plans for the future.
SELF-MADE QUOTES : "nothing feels warmer than the presence of your soul residing next to me".
02 STARGAZING ADVENTURE
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it's a clear night outside and how you and your DR s/o are both planning to drive out to a secluded hill , a field of flowers / plants, or hanging out at the seashore. with a blanket that is spread out , you lie together with them , pointing out the constellations that you saw from the night sky , making wishes on shooting stars , and talking about the vastness of the universe , while feeling deeply connected between you and your DR s/o.
SELF-MADE QUOTES : "the stars are indeed beautiful but i'm only , i'm only looking at you're glimmering eyes whilst you're admiring the night sky".
03 COOKING MEALS TOGETHER
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in a warm , sun-filled kitchen , you and your DR s/o are cooking a meal together. inside the kitchen room, you can hear laughter as you playfully argue about how much spice your DR s/o added , maybe a little flour fight breaks out between the two of you. at the end of the cooking session , you both enjoy the meal that you and your DR s/o prepared. there's candlelight on the table , making a toast to the simple joys of life.
SELF-MADE QUOTES : "“we stirred up more than just a meal—laughter , love , and the kind of joy that fills both the heart and the table”.
EXTRAS : anime world , power / influence (being famous , rich , has authority , strong connection with people of high social status) , grumpy x sunshine , with people around you , magical / supernatural , idol world (kpop , jpop , cpop , etc.) , surprise / unplanned / not much is being scripted , introvert x introvert dynamic , erotic , heart , dragonfly , moon , horse , bicycle.
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ෆ⸒⸒ pile two 🍵
these scenarios can be adapted however you like to fit the connection and dynamic you imagine with your DR s/o. it's also great for visualizing deeper moments and building a strong emotional link to that reality !
01 A LAZY MORNING IN BED
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it's a slow weekend morning. the sunlight coming from the outside streams in through the window , and you and your DR s/o both lie in bed , wrapped up in each other's presence. there's no rush in trying to get up—just sleepy conversation , giving soft kisses , and cuddling whilst the world outside stays still. maybe or perhaps you can even make breakfast together afterward.
SELF-MADE QUOTES : “no need to chase the day when every moment here feels like forever”.
02 A ROAD TRIP WITH NO DESTINATION
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you and your DR s/o both decided to take an impromptu road trip together. the windows are up , music coming from the radio is blasting , and how the wind is brushing through your hair. you knew that there was no fixed destination as to where the two of you were going , just an adventure to look forward to. you and them stop at random spots—a small-town diner , a beautiful lookout point , or a quirky roadside attraction whilst creating memories along the way.
SELF-MADE QUOTES : "with no map to guide us , the open road became our compass , and how each stop is an unexpected chapter.”
03 DANCING IN THE LIVING ROOM
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on a quiet evening inside the living room , one of your favorite songs comes on from the speaker. without saying a word , your DR s/o pulls you into a dance. you feel as if the rest of the world fades away and time slowly stops as you move together in perfect harmony , lost in each other’s eyes. the warmth of their embrace envelops you , creating a bubble where only the two of you and the music exist. each gentle sway feels like a promise for a lifetime.
SELF-MADE QUOTES : “we both dance in silence , lost in each other’s gaze , turning a simple moment into an eternal memory.”
EXTRAS : adventure , tragedy , booktok / book world , superhero / villain , thriller / horror , comic book world , magical / supernatural , alone , mythology , fairy , horse , starfish / star , mermaid / siren , anchor.
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ෆ⸒⸒ pile three 🍫
these scenarios can be adapted however you like to fit the connection and dynamic you imagine with your DR s/o. it's also great for visualizing deeper moments and building a strong emotional link to that reality !
01 CAMPING UNDER THE STARS
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you find yourself in a serene forest by a lake , camping with your DR s/o. after setting up a tent , you decided to sit by the fire roasting marshmallows , sharing stories , and how laughter can be heard. the crackling flames and the gentle rustle of leaves create a soothing backdrop for your connection. later on , you and your DR s/o fall asleep , feeling safe in each other's presence. in those moments , the worries of the world fade away , leaving only the warmth of love and the beauty of the stars above.
SELF-MADE QUOTES : "under a starlit sky , “By the firelight, laughter echoed in the serene forest, as we held each other close, wrapped in love and the magic of a starlit night.”
02 CELEBRATING A SPECIAL ACHIEVEMENT
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you just accomplished something important in your DR , whether it’s personal or professional , and how you considered it to be a big milestone for you. Your DR s/o found out about this exciting news and decided to surprise you with a small celebration—a homemade dinner , a handwritten letter , or maybe just their heartfelt words of pride and love for the person they love which is you. this moment feels special for the two of you.
SELF-MADE QUOTES : "your support in my achievement made the victory sweeter , but it’s your love that makes every moment feel truly complete.”
03 A DREAM VACATION
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you and your DR s/o are about to embark on a vacation to your dream destination. wether this location or trip to a tropical beach , a walk in a european city, or staying in a mountain cabin. you found yourself immersed in spending days exploring , taking a quick relaxation , and even discovering new things with them. there are moments of awe at observing the beautiful landscapes , and feeling connected to the world. your Dr s/o decided to take you to a quiet , romantic dinner with a breathtaking view , making the vacation feel more magical.
SELF-MADE QUOTES : “with every step we take , the world whispers its beauty , but it’s your gaze that holds the most radiant horizon.”
EXTRAS : shoujo , main waiting room , superstar life (singer , dancer , music-related , famous) , surpise / unplanned / not much is being scripted , fan-fiction / au , platonic soulmates (friends , siblings , family , etc.) , slice of life , josei , sci-fi , squirrel , rose , tree , moon , star.
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kivino · 1 year ago
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BIG GUY || SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X GN!READER
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my masterlist
ao3 link to this fic
Word counter – ~1,8k
Tags/Warnings – Fluff, a bit of miscommunication and jealousy, nothing much.
Summary – Ghost takes a liking to the nickname you give him, but struggles to understand just how much he likes it.
A/n – I’m still struggling with my school projects so wish me luck, I made this instead of making a video for my language class lmao, enjoy! i’ll add the ao3 link a bit later.
upd. link added for ao3 enjoyers!
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It didn't miss anybody, the way Ghost seemed more easygoing and light-hearted on certain days, letting recruits get away with a bit more than usual. Coincidentally, it was right after various interactions with you, be it training or sparring together, doing reports, moving some shit around the base, or just hanging out in the common room. Nobody could just figure out what it was about your interactions that lifted Simon’s spirits so high, which was notoriously hard, courtesy of how gloomy or menacing the man usually appeared. But the answer was quite simple, really.
“Thanks, big guy. Always a huge help.” Simon catches your small smile as you pat him on the shoulder and nods, barely containing his joy, he’d hate to make it too obvious. He was wearing a balaclava after all, and the smallest stretch of the fabric on his cheeks and around his mouth could easily give away how joy spread itself in his chest at the affectionate nickname.
Big guy. Big guy. Your big guy.
Nickname reserved only for him, exclusively from you. Of course, Ghost knew he’d be larger than your average soldier, and that regularly got acknowledged by others, but something about you calling him like this made it different. That pleasant warmth inside, which reminded him of the sun, or that stupid fluttering in his stomach, was…unusual to say the least. It made his mood better almost instantly, an interaction he eagerly, but silently looked forward to each day. Something about you calling him a big guy made his head spin, swimming in the endless clouds. Something Ghost hasn't felt in a long time and didn’t think he’d ever experience.
It was easy to let down his guard around you, you stripped him of the metaphorical armor just like this, with an effortless joke and that godforsaken pet name thrown in somewhere in the conversation. And just like that - Ghost’s low laugh rumbled in unison with yours, heart missing a beat when he looked into your eyes that sparkled with something unknown and captivating. It felt…good. New. And so fucking warm, Ghost felt like he was about to suffocate.
You were the newbie, your reputation preceded you but Ghost didn’t pay much attention to all the rumors swirling around on the base, like some suspicious soup in a boiling pot. He had better things to do. Like following you similarly to a lost puppy, maybe staring intently right at you with his huge brown eyes, if he was feeling brave. Or lingering somewhere around, just to make sure you’re adjusting alright. After all, all of you soldiers have to look out for each other, right? Right. Definitely.
It felt good to finally be able to just laugh and play around with someone, who didn’t seem scared shitless by his presence, mask and, well…everything about him, that seemingly drove people away. Not that he didn’t understand the reasoning for that – quite on the contrary. But you were probably just built differently, drawn to the weird, unappealing, and scary. Maybe Ghost should feel lucky that you were like that. And truth be told, he did. He liked it and he liked you.
Ghost could only hope that he lightened up the things for you the way you did for him. To ask and dig deeper would probably be too much, Simon could still feel that caution and tremble at the mere thought of trying to grow closer to you and spend even more time together. Like he’ll put a curse on you the moment he decides to open up a bit more and show you at least some inner workings of his mind on a more intimate level than just some stupid puns, or gossip and discussions about the way you spent your day. Although they were certainly pleasant, with you giving him a subtle, understanding smile from across the table, while steam from your coffee mug made it seem so domestic and wholesome like Ghost was in a dream. So, Ghost kept what little distance he could, despite his wishes, and hoped that you take your time and be patient with him.
That is until he overheard something that startled him, to say the least.  
“Well, your jokes are a bit too much for me, big guy.” You say, letting out a clear, loud laugh, as you patted Soap’s chest. Scotsman straightened up almost immediately in front of you, a proud toothy smile beaming on his face. Now Ghost felt like he just got punched in the gut, for some reason. Annoyed and on edge in a split second. But why? He truly couldn’t seem to pin down the reason for the surge of anger and something bitter in his chest, bubbling right under his skin.
It was probably nothing worth his attention. Just something weird with his body, exhaustion from the training, muscle cramps...or whatever it could be. In any case, running headfirst into dissecting his mind for something so small and minuscule? Ridiculous, really. Completely unnecessary. Of course, Simon knew that both you and Johnny weren’t saints, two rascals more like, but he had no obvious reason to feel this bitter stinging inside of him, that slithered and slipped around, followed by tightening of his throat and bobbing of his Adam’s apple. He swallowed loudly, trying to wash down that gross aftertaste on his tongue hours after he saw that interaction. And the fact that he couldn’t get it out of his head was telling enough, that he was, in fact, bothered by something.
So, Simon decided to do what he did best. Bottle it up. But then it just kept sitting in his head, that nasty feeling still eating him from the inside out. It didn’t help that he started seeing you talking with Johnny more often, while Simon unintentionally avoided you, still buried deep in his thoughts and contemplations about what caused him to feel the way he did. Of course, he couldn’t help but eavesdrop. And there you were. Laughing with him. Calling him “big guy”. Again. This only caused Simon to become more cranky and unfriendly, taking his frustrations out on poor privates who’ve never ran so many laps in their entire lives.
The only people Ghost was outright cruel and merciless to were his enemies. He wasn’t the friendliest guy, of course, but everyone noticed when the lieutenant who usually would crack jokes and dumb puns at the expense of others at most suddenly started to get annoyed at smaller mistakes more, using harsher words and overall look like he was down in the dumps. Nobody dared to talk about the subject though, so Ghost was left terrorizing the privates and recruits, having lunches in his office and avoiding areas where he knew you’d be at certain times of the day from your long talks before. Which, of course, didn’t help him to understand what was wrong at all.
So, all Ghost was left with were his own thoughts. He didn’t feel jealous of you interacting with other people before. You were never his, so he had no right for that at all. But there had to be something else that pushed Simon to where he was now, tired, unsatisfied, and craving at least a passing smile and a short “Hey there” from you. So that the two of you could sit down somewhere together, and you’d talk about some irrelevant nonsense, and then you’d open your mouth again and call him “big guy”. It didn’t feel fair that Johnny got to be called that. It was Simon’s nickname. From you. Wait-wait-wait, hold on a second.
The sudden revelation as to why exactly Ghost was feeling that way when he saw you talk with the sergeant hit him like a damn bus. Fuck, that is childish. Weird. God, Simon feels like a damn creep. Getting upset because of a damn nickname, way to fucking go, you oaf. This felt confusing. Irrational. Absolutely fucking stupid. To think that something that simple threw him off so easily. That’s human relationships for you. Now it felt like he needed even more time. Not to make it complicated. Not to hurt you and himself.
Regardless of his wishes, he didn’t have any more time to think when he was soon approached by you, a concerned frown adorning your face, along with a look full of sympathy and understanding. Ghost already dreaded the conversation that hadn’t even begun. And he wasn’t even the one reaching out first. Which makes it even more embarrassing.
“Hey, Simon. I have something I want to talk about with you.” You, bless your heart, probably thought something terrible happened in Simon's life when in reality he was just running away from you and his feelings like a whole wildfire was chasing him. The only correlation he could think of is dumb teenagers, which is…remotely fitting with his recent behavior. “I’ve noticed you’ve been kind of…avoiding me? Did something happen, or am I just overthinking everything?”
“It’s stupid, really. Nothing you should be worrying yourself about.” Ghost blurts out before he can even think. Great, now he can only tell you the whole truth, without the options to back out or lie. But it was truly so unusual for him because Simon never expected to get attached to a nickname and to you.
“Well, let’s hear you out. I won’t judge.” Again, with your perfect reassuring smile and your calming presence. Simon lets out a deep sigh, his throat itching from what is about to ensue. He knew he was going to embarrass himself, but he just couldn’t bring himself to lie. Which would’ve been so much easier, instead of baring his true feelings in front of you.
“Well, your nickname for me…You know what I’m talking about.” Simon’s tone is deep and gruff as he tries to conceal that uncertainty in his voice. You appear to be listening attentively, your eyes trained on him, head slightly tilted to the side, which makes his heart melt. You give him a confident nod at the mention of the nickname, and Ghost continues. “I want you to call only me like that. And I mean, only me” He can see your eyebrow rising, your expression more teasing than questioning. There we go, now you’re going to mock him or laugh at him. Just perfect.
“Sure thing, big guy.” A shudder runs down Simon’s spine from your words, a sweet, saccharine feeling immediately blossoming in his chest. Oh, he had no words to describe how hard he missed it. All his worries lifted immediately. You didn’t find it weird. In fact, from what Ghost could tell by your satisfied expression, it was quite the opposite of the reaction Simon initially expected. Which was extremely relieving. He would hate to lose your intriguing relationship to the miscommunication of his own making. “Could’ve just said that you wanted it reserved just for you.”
Oh, it wasn’t just the nickname that did it to him. But it’s a bit too early to tell you that.
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duskiers · 8 months ago
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Enchanted Beginnings
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Percy / Aphrodite!Reader
Percy falls for the new Aphrodite daughter, leading to a series of amusing mishaps as he's too distracted by her presence. With a little help from Grover, Percy finally connects with her ☆
First request woop woop 🙌 💗
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The day you arrived at Camp Half-Blood, the sky was painted with strokes of pink and orange, heralding your entrance into a world where myths breathed and heroes walked. Percy Jackson, already a seasoned hero in the eyes of many, found himself at the archery range, his focus far from the quiver and bow. The camp was busy with the arrival of new demigods, but one in particular seemed to capture everyone’s attention before the gods themselves claimed her as their own. You, with your grace and an aura that seemed to whisper of Aphrodite's lineage, had barely crossed the camp's threshold before a glowing symbol of the goddess appeared above your head, sealing your divine heritage.
From across the field, Percy caught sight of you, and in that moment, the world seemed to slow. Everything about you fascinated him—the way you moved with effortless grace, your smile that seemed to light up the surroundings, and the kindness in your eyes that spoke of a gentle strength. He was so captivated that he hardly noticed Grover, his best friend, approaching.
"Who is that?" Percy's voice was a mix of wonder and curiosity, his gaze fixed on you as you laughed at something another camper said.
Grover followed his gaze, a knowing smile forming on his lips. "That's the new girl. Daughter of Aphrodite, and it seems like she's already making quite the impression!" he teased, elbowing Percy lightly.
In the days that followed, Percy found himself drawn to you, often going out of his way just to catch a glimpse of you during training or meals. However, his attempts at nonchalance led to a series of comical mishaps—walking into door frames, tripping over nothing at all, and yes, even walking straight into a window, all because he couldn't tear his eyes away from you.
Grover, witnessing Percy's increasing clumsiness and the amused whispers of their fellow campers, decided it was time for intervention. He made up a plan to finally push Percy into taking action, rather than just daydreaming about you from afar.
One sunny afternoon, as you were returning from a strategy session with Annabeth, Grover saw his opportunity. With a quick, "Trust me" whispered to Percy, he gave him a not-so-gentle push, sending him stumbling directly into your path.
The collision was gentle, but unexpected, causing you to catch Percy in your arms in a moment of surprise. "Whoa! Are you okay?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as you helped him.
Percy, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, managed a sheepish smile. "Yeah, sorry, I just... lost my footing.." he stuttered, internally cursing his lack of grace.
"I'm Percy , " he introduced himself, though a part of him worried you might have already heard of his less-than-graceful moments around camp.
You laughed, a sound that to Percy felt like music. "I know who you are. Percy Jackson, the hero of Olympus. I'm [Name]." you said, extending your hand in greeting.
What followed was a conversation that flowed more naturally than Percy could have hoped for. He found himself opening up about his adventures, the burdens he carried, and the simple joys of camp life. In return, you shared your own journey to Camp Half-Blood, the fears, and excitement that came with discovering your heritage, and the hope of finding a place where you truly belonged.
Grover watched from a distance, a satisfied grin on his face as he saw the two of you laughing together, completely at ease. He had no doubt that this was the beginning of something special.
In the weeks that followed, Percy and you grew closer, spending hours talking by the lake, training together in the arena, and sharing quiet moments under the stars. Percy, who had once been so entranced by your beauty, found himself even more captivated by your spirit—your kindness, your bravery, and your unwavering support.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and crimson, Percy found the courage to express his feelings. Sitting together by the lake, he took your hand in his, his heart racing.
"[Name], from the moment I saw you, I was... well, I was in awe. But it's not just about how you look. It's everything about you—your kindness, your strength, your courage. You've become someone very important to me" he admitted, "and I keep finding more reasons to be amazed by you every day." his voice tinged with sincerity and a hint of nervousness.
Your smile in response was all the assurance Percy needed. "Percy , you've been my rock since I arrived here. You've shown me what it means to be a true hero—not just through your deeds, but through your heart.." You respond with a soft smile and a gentle squeeze of his hand. "I’m glad Grover pushed you into me that day," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Percy laughed, a sound filled with happiness and relief. "Me too. Me too."
As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, you both sat there, talking about everything and nothing. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you <3
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jetii · 1 month ago
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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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