#how many of his sleepless nights have just been him thinking why can't he just be that well meaning awkward sea-happy teenage boy again

[thekingofchungus]

okay. healthy coping mechanisms. okay i got this. this is easy. okay i got it. 2000 word thinkpiece on why tobias finch is the saddest little pebble

[entirelysein-e]

『 Taking his virginity 』

☼ synopsis: Satoru Gojo was a goddamn virgin and you were hellbent on testing your little theory before taking his innocence.

☼ character: Gojo

☼ wc: 3.8k

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, switch!Gojo, virginity loss, experienced reader, oral (reader giving), fingering, cum eating, creampie, overstimulation, aftercare

☼ notes: I gave this piece a little realism since not every first time is picture perfect and no one gets born a sex god. || sign up for my taglist here

Gojo had been chasing after you ever since the day he met you, trying to impress you with everything he could think of. But when his money or the stories he told didn't work, he slowly lost it, trying to make you jealous instead by telling you how many women he takes back to his dorm and how they all scream his name. “I bet they scream because he can't find the clit.” You laughed softly at Shoko’s remark after the white haired man told you about his latest fling.

“That's not true. She squirted all over my cock,” Gojo fired back with a pout on his face as he crossed his arms defensively, but the both of you had to stifle a laugh. He clearly was no gentleman since they don't kiss and tell, but the way he always went over the line with his stories, making sure they were all graphic and detailed, made it hard to believe for you. Why would he tell his crush all that? He followed you around like a lost puppy dog that was begging for just a crumb of your attention and the way he blushed when you teased him never went by unnoticed either. Gojo Satoru was a goddamn virgin and you were hellbent on testing your little theory.

Studying was quickly forgotten when you straddled his lap while he just tried to explain something about cursed energy to you, but you were far too busy with your own little plan to listen. “Finally got to your senses?” He asked with a smug grin and shoved his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to look at you just above the dark-tinted glasses. His confidence was as fake as in his previous bedroom stories and it was so apparent by how tense he got when you rested your hands on his chest, his heart almost beating out of his ribcage. His pale skin formed goosebumps when you cupped his cheek ever so gently. “Perhaps I have... Fuck me, Satoru,” you whispered into his ear just before you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck and you could feel a shudder run down his spine.

His hands were on your ass in an instant, kneading the globes eagerly, but it screamed insecurity to you. Slender fingers were kneading your flesh when you started grinding your hips against him. A breathless moan escaped his soft lips upon the sensation and his grip on your ass was painful enough to leave bruises. To make things worse for him, you were mewling his name so pretty right into his ear, your words leaving him breathless as he helped you to move your hips, meeting every roll of yours with a little upward thrust. “Just like that, butterfly,” he moaned out. The sensation of your clothed cunt so close to his cock made him lose his mind entirely and he just wanted to be inside of you, have you as his first.

When your lips met his, Gojo moaned into your mouth, giving you the perfect opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth and he held your hips close against his, aimlessly humping into you, but you bit his lip. “If you cum in your pants right now, I won't even think about sucking you off,” you warned him and his hips almost stilled instantly. His face and ears dusted pink when you caught onto him. It was torture to him, edging himself like this, but perhaps you're not just teasing him and he won't ever pass up on the feeling of your lips wrapping around his cock. Not when this very image was what caused many sleepless nights where he coated his hand in his own cum more than once. A single hiss left his lips when you started to grind your hips into his again, your breath hot against his neck as you marked his skin up with purple marks. It would be a lie to say that it didn't affect you, knowing that you make him feel so good and that you have him in your palm like putty. His cock feels delicious, even through your clothes. You were almost embarrassed by how soaked your panties were from a little dry humping, but you didn't take pity on his state, not until he admitted he’s a virgin. “Fuck. Can't you just use your mouth already?” He asked through gritted teeth and you moved your kisses to his jawline. “And with that stamina, you made women scream? Impatient asshole,” you teased and his eyes fluttered shut. He knew that you knew it was all a lie, but he wasn't ready to fall into your trap. “It's different with you,” he tried defending himself when you slowly got up from his lap and it took everything in him not to bend you over and bury his aching dick in your cunt. “It's different because it's an actual pussy grinding against you and not just your own hand for once, hm?” You asked and unbuttoned his shirt painfully slowly. “Please use your mouth. I'll do everything you want,” Gojo whispered the last part, feeling foolish for being so desperate, but it made you giggle.

“My eager little virgin,” you cooed and sank to your knees as he bit his own lip at how degrading it sounded to him, his hand slowly traveling into your hair to caress you. “Or am I wrong?” You asked as you unbuttoned his pants without pulling them down yet, until he shook his head. “No, no, you're not,” he said softly, nudging his pants down along with his underwear since you were taking too long for him. You were met with the prettiest cock, already leaking with pre-cum from his soft pink tip. “And you want me to be your first?” You asked, giving him the chance to stop this, fingers raking over his thighs before you pressed a single kiss to each of them. "Yes,” he smiled down at you, not believing his wet dream was about to become reality and you nodded softly as your kisses trailed further up to his hipbones, an impatient whine escaping him. “May I?” You asked him sweetly and looked up to him, but he couldn't answer anymore, gently guiding your head towards his tip, which made you laugh at how eager he was to experience this.

Gojo almost squeaked when your soft lips kissed the leaking tip of his cock, pre-cum already running down his shaft in small beads, but you had enough of the teasing, just wanting him to enjoy his first time now. Ever so gently, you wrapped your lips around his aching length and your longe immediately began to swirl around it, smoothing down any vein and ridge as you slowly sunk your head further down. When you looked up at him through your lashes, he was already far gone. His face contorted in pure bliss before he let his head fall back and his hands traveled to your head. He didn't push you further down, but he needed to hold onto you, feeling like you're sucking his soul out through his dick. When you hollowed out your cheeks for the first time, “fuuuck-” his groan was drawn out and you decided to take him further down your throat. That cocky bastard was indeed very well endowed and with some more practice, he would make women scream.

You barely managed to take his entire length, feeling him so far down your throat, but his sinful moan when your nose brushed the neatly trimmed hair at the base was worth the effort. His hands grabbed your hair tighter with every bop of your head, but it only made you moan. Your soft moans sent vibrations down his cock and that was all it took. Stuttered moans fell from his lips when he held your head in place, not wanting to lose the warmth of your mouth around him as his cum shot down your throat. Normally you would pull back and curse him for shoving your head further down and making you take his cum, but you let him have it this time. The poor virgin's legs were shaking violently in the aftermath of his orgasm when he slowly pulled back, a dust of crimson creeping up his neck, but it was quickly replaced with a cocky smirk. “You're such a good girl,” he praised, acting like someone in some poorly written porn, which made your eyes roll. “Next time, you better ask if the person sucking wants to swallow your cum.” You scolded him, your angry glare set right onto his face, but his cock twitched from your words.

“Can we skip foreplay?” He asked sheepishly, dying to experience your cunt wrapped so tightly around his cock, but you only raised your brows and your face fell quickly when you realized it wasn't a joke. “No?!” You snapped, stating the obvious, before taking your shirt off. His eyes almost fell out of his skull when your shirt landed on the ground and his lips were on you in a fraction of a second while eager hands worked to open your bra. A surprised moan slipped out of you when he managed to open your bra on the second try already and you could feel the smirk against your lips. Gojo’s large hands covered your boobs immediately, kneading them eagerly and you let him discover your body the way he wanted to. His kisses slowly wandered down your neck, giving it the same treatment you gave him earlier, sucking small marks onto your skin while leaving open-mouthed kisses behind. “You're so hot,” he breathed against your skin and you could feel how genuine he was. His cocky act was pushed aside. When his lips finally reached your chest, you were holding your breath, a single whimper slipping out when he wrapped his thin lips around one of your nipples while looking up at you to gauge your reaction. Upon seeing your eyes flutter shut and your hands burying themselves in his hair, he moaned content against your boobs, swiping his tongue over the pebbled nipple while his hand caressed the neglected breast until he switched sides.

He could do this forever, your boobs were so warm against him and the little noises you let out were all he ever needed - at least that's what he thought. "Toru, please... more,” you practically begged, certain that your panties would be drenched when he took them off, but Gojo didn't need to be told twice. Giving your boobs a kiss goodbye, his tongue trailed over your stomach to the hem of your pants. “May I?” He asked with a small smile on his face, repeating your own question from earlier to show that he learned from your scolding and asked for consent. A simple nod is all you could manage before slim fingers slowly pulled your pants down, leaving you behind in damp panties. Gojo might have been a virgin, but he held so much confidence if you let him just do his thing and it stole your words. “Let's lay down,” you suggested, feeling awkward since you were both still standing around at his desk, but Gojo agreed, gently picking you up to let you fall down on his messy bed, hovering halfway over you. He propped himself up on one arm while laying on his side, his other hand gently caressed your inner thighs, hoping you spread them further for him and you did. You didn't miss the gulp when his hand brushed against your soaked underwear, amazed by how wet you were for him - a little boost to his already far too big ego. “Please,” you begged breathlessly, unsure what exactly you were begging for, but you yearned to feel his fingers play with your wet pussy. Of course, Gojo flashed you the cockiest smile when you were begging him so desperately, but he didn't want to wait much longer either, so he hooked his slender fingers into the waistband of your panties and peeled them off of you. To help him, you lifted your hips ever so slightly and once the piece of fabric dropped to the floor next to the bed, Gojo was hovering above you, one of his knees placed between your thighs.

He didn't want you to see how nervous he felt, so he kissed you as his hands explored your body once again, but his tongue stopped caressing yours when the tips of his fingers touched your wet folds for the first time. “So wet for me, baby,” he cooed, masking his little shocked reaction, but you simply pulled him closer by the back of his neck to connect your lips once again. Clumsy fingers explored your pussy, sliding through your slit to smear your juices around before gently rubbing your labia. You had to stifle a small laughter when Gojo confidently massaged your labia minora as if he tried to start a fire with the friction. Not wanting to ruin the moment by speaking up and possibly embarrassing him, you gently reached between your bodies to guide his hand to where it's supposed to be, rewarding him with a soft moan. He picked up right away and gently rubbed circles onto your exposed clit until your legs started to shake slightly. His cock was so achingly hard from touching you that he could barely contain himself, but your pleasure was important to him, important to his pride, so he swiftly sank two fingers into you. Your back arched off the mattress at the sudden intrusion and your hands reached for his biceps just to hold onto something.

Gojo gasped when you clenched around his fingers for the first time, feeling just how tight and warm your little cunt was and he started fantasizing about how it would feel around his virgin cock. Would he even last long enough? He started to wonder as the pads of his fingers curled into your pussy - something he's seen in porn. “Fuck- just like that!” You whined out desperately before moans fell from your lips alongside praises. The moment your walls started to flutter around you, Gojo spat onto your clit and let his thumb rub it just like his palm did earlier. You had no idea where he learned it and truth be told, you didn't want to know where he picked that up from, but it was all you needed to tumble over the edge. Your walls gripped tightly onto his fingers as you moaned out his name like a lewd prayer, Satoru’s heart beating faster when he watched you orgasm just from his fingers. Once you came down from your high, you held onto his wrist with desperation, needing him to stop because you started to crave being stretched open by his cock.

When Gojo pulled his long fingers out of your wet cunt, he moaned, your juices staining the bedsheets where you laid and dripping off his fingers. Without thinking about it, he pushed his fingers between his lips to let his tongue get a taste of your sweet nectar and it was enough to make his cock twitch. “You taste so fucking good, butterfly,” the man between your thighs praised in a moan and the lewd scene made your pussy clench around nothing. “I'll make sure you come on my tongue next time, yeah?” He asked cocky and you had to get him down from his arrogant behavior. “Who said there would be a next time?” You asked, sounding rather pissed and he shook his head with a small chuckle. “If you allow me, that is,” he added with a wink that made you roll your eyes. He was so fucking cocky, but you also wanted to see him buried between your thighs, his blue eyes looking up at you while his tongue laps at your core like it's his last meal. You needed to see him drunk on your perfect little cunt, but right now you were dying to have his cock inside of you.

A single glare was shot at the white-haired man before you pulled him on top of your body again, your legs wrapping around his waist and he let his cock slide against your folds for the first time. Gojo’s eyes fell shut as he hissed. Your cunt felt so good against him like this and all he wanted to do was push inside to make you cum around his cock just like you did around his fingers, but your question took him off guard. “You sure you want this?” You asked, making sure he was still fully on board with this, seeing how absent his eyes looked for a moment, but he only nodded, letting his cock rub against your core once again. “You just feel so fucking good, is all,” he admitted, prodding at your needy entrance with his tip. His grip on his cock was almost painful when he lined himself up like that, but he waited for a sign - anything really that let him know he could push in - and then he felt the heels of your feet digging into his firm ass cheeks, making him push in with just one thrust.

Both of you moaned out when his hips were flush against yours, his cock buried so deep inside your awaiting cunt and Gojo almost blacked out.

Your pussy felt even better around his dick than he imagined, but you were so tight it almost hurt to move. “We can stay like this for a moment,” you whispered reassuringly, not trusting your voice to be any louder since your breathing was already ragged. Satoru nodded and his head dropped into the crook of your neck, lazily kissing your sensitive skin while he took deep breaths. Both of you knew he wouldn't last longer than a few seconds if he moved right now and you allowed him to do this at his own pace, not making fun of him or teasing him for once. “You feel so good, Satoru,” you whined out, his cock driving you insane just by being nestled inside of you and just as you slowly started to lose it, Gojo pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back inside, over and over again. His thrusts were sloppy and clearly inexperienced, but the way his tip was hitting all the right spots so deep inside of you made you moan his name, a lewd string of praise and profanities falling from your lips until he stilled after just a few more thrusts. “So close- fuck, I'm gonna-” he warned and you helped him by meeting his thrusts, silently assuring him that you want him to cum inside of you. “Oh fuck, butterfly,” his voice cracked when his hips humped yours, and his head dropped into the crook of your neck once again. His balls felt so heavy, tightening over and over again as his cock pumped you full of his release and you could swear that he's whimpering in your ear as he experienced his first orgasm inside of you and it felt so intense he had to pull out the second it was over.

He watched his cum flow out of your little hole and his first reaction was to stuff it back inside with his fingers, which caught you off guard. “Satoru, so good!” You whined loudly, still feeling so full with his cum inside of you, but the embarrassment and disappointment of not feeling you cum around his cock started to creep up on him. This was something he needed to feel, he felt like he might drop dead if he didn't have you wrapped around his length anymore, so he swiftly removed his fingers from your weeping cunt and lifted you onto his lap once he laid down.

The white-haired man's dick was still rock solid, his tip a deep shade of pink from all the stimulation, but his blue eyes connected with yours. “Please,” he begged and you sunk down on his overstimulated cock, almost feeling bad for him when he gritted his teeth as you sunk down. Your head immediately fell back at the way he filled you up now, the new angle letting him in so much deeper. His name felt heavenly on your tongue when you moaned it over and over, letting him hear how good he made you feel with his cock, but his ears were ringing from the overstimulation, yet he craved your tight cunt grinding and bouncing off his dick. In sheer desperation, he reached out to rub your clit, his thumb swiping over your little pearl as his other hand found its home on your ass, where he kneaded the flesh. And there it was - the fluttering of your walls - a telltale sign of your orgasm rippling through your body, which made Gojo moan breathless. Your cunt sucked him deeper while clenching down like a vice as you almost screamed his name when the knot in your stomach finally snapped, your hips erratically humped his cock and your vision blurred. Satoru had to stop rubbing your clit, his hand now grabbing onto your other butt cheek as he pumped another load deep inside of you before you collapsed onto his chest, almost unmoving while his balls kept pumping more of his seed into you until his orgasm finally ceased.

Both of you laid there, panting and none of you wanted to move or say anything. Gojo simply wrapped his arms around your upper body, slender fingers caressing the skin of your back as you gently kissed his jawline with sweet, almost innocent kisses. Your heartbeat matched his, beating strongly at a fast pace, but you eventually forced yourself up a little bit to look at him. One of your hands cupped his cheek gently. “You okay?” You asked caring, wanting to know if he's satisfied, if his first time was what he imagined and Gojo nodded with a breathless chuckle. “I'm so fucking okay,” he said enthusiastically and his smile was a genuine one this time. “Can we stay like this for a moment?” He asked immediately after, not wanting to let go of you just yet, but you nodded and rested your head back on his shoulder. "Hmm, for a moment, but we need to clean up eventually,” you mumbled into him before kissing his shoulder, and he nodded as he wrapped his arms around you again. “Perhaps we can take a shower together,” he mused, a grin dancing on his lips and you shook your head with a soft laugh before agreeing. Perhaps this was something you could get used to. Perhaps one day Gojo could call you his.

Networks: @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[defectivevillain]

whispers in the night

pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi/Reader

reader's race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns used.

summary: When you can't fall asleep, you stumble out to the common room to get a snack—only to find Shinsou on the couch, similarly restless. After a moment's contemplation, you sit down next to him and the two of you share a quiet night in.

word count: 1.9k | ao3 version

warnings: exhaustion, fatigue, insomnia

You can’t fall asleep. 

Despite how incredibly busy your day has been—what with classes, sparring, and Quirk training—you’re still left staring up at the ceiling in frustration as you attempt to go to bed. You’ve had your eyes closed for roughly an hour or so, but you haven’t fallen asleep. Gritting your teeth, you decide to get up and grab something to eat. You’re not even sure if that little trick will help you fall asleep, but at this point, you’re desperate. As you quietly walk through the halls and into the common room, you’re surprised to find that someone else is also awake. You’re less surprised when you see Shinsou sitting on the couch, looking down at his phone.

“You look like a raccoon,” Shinsou says in lieu of a greeting. You point to the dark circles under your eyes and he nods. You mumble some half-assed explanation about being tired, before deciding to reply honestly. 

“That’s ironic, coming from you,” you say jokingly. Shinsou evidently expects the remark, because he simply rolls his eyes. Distracted from grabbing a snack, you move to sit next to him. The couch is surprisingly comfortable, and there are decorative pillows thrown about the cushions that Momo created a bit ago. You grab one and hold it against your chest. 

“Well, dark circles are typical for me,” Shinsou remarks casually, with a sense of resigned defeat. You immediately sense what he’s implying. 

“I know,” you acknowledge. He’s absolutely right, of course. You’re just not sure why you’ve been so sleepless lately. You tell him as much. “I’ve just been restless.” 

Shinsou nods silently. Immediately, you feel guilty for bemoaning your lack of sleep, when Shinsou is hardly ever able to sleep. Yet here you are, complaining about the one time that you’re awake at night. An apology is on the tip of your tongue when Shinsou inexplicably leans close to you. He stretches and grabs the remote on the cushion next to you before returning his attention to the television in front of you. A familiar icon appears on the screen. 

“Is that Netflix?” You ask, unable to keep the surprise from your voice. The lack of Netflix on the common room television has been a sticking point for many of your fellow classmates. You can recall countless times in which Kaminari or Sero practically begged Present Mic and Aizawa to get a shared Netflix account for the class. Their pleas never went very far, though. “Holy shit, how’d you-”

“Stole Aizawa’s password.” You stare at Shinsou, whose eyes are locked on the screen ahead. He clicks on the remote a few times, evidently selecting the right letters for the username and password. Even as he does so, it takes you several moments to process just what he said. 

“You did not,” you say in disbelief. 

“I did,” Shinsou grins, clicking on the yellow profile with your teacher’s name under it. Aizawa’s home screen comes up and you can’t help but laugh incredulously. Shinsou’s lips twist ever so slightly—he’s evidently proud of himself—and he turns to you. “What do you want to watch?”

The two of you eventually decide to watch The Great British Bake Off, since you don’t quite want to commit to watching something serious. Besides, you’re half-expecting that at least one of you will fall asleep. Shinsou clicks on an episode and you lean back against the couch. The pillows are strewn about the floor now; you promise yourself you’ll pick them up later.

The baking show is rather entertaining, you have to admit. Shinsou seems to think so too, as he occasionally huffs or smiles ever so slightly. You find yourself torn between watching the television and, well, watching him. The first episode passes within no time at all. Shinsou plays the next one and, in a sudden burst of spontaneity, you lean your head against the edge of your cushion. You're dangerously close to resting on Shinsou’s shoulder, but you manage to keep the distance between you. 

You do notice, however, that Shinsou’s arm is hovering on the back of the couch. Once you realize that, the show is suddenly far less captivating. Your heart races as his hand falls further down the back of the couch. Blinking slowly, you turn your attention back to the program. Unfortunately, your fatigued body decides to entirely disobey you, and you feel yourself falling into Shinsou’s shoulder before you can contemplate the consequences. Thankfully, he doesn’t shove you off of him or anything. In fact, his arm falls from the back of the couch to rest around your shoulders. 

You feel yourself beginning to grow tired as time passes, but you desperately want to remain awake and keep Shinsou company. It must be terribly isolating to constantly be restless at nighttime. Despite these thoughts, however, it doesn’t take long for your eyes to slip closed. You’re in a bit of an awkward position and Shinsou’s shoulder digs into your neck. Suddenly, you’re tugged to the side and into a significantly more comfortable position. You blink your eyes open briefly, surprised to find that you’re now pulled against Shinsou’s chest. Before you can overanalyze that, however, you’re drifting off again. 

An immeasurable amount of time later, you're roused from slumber and lightly jostled. You feel an arm supporting your back and another under your legs. Is someone... carrying you? You try to open your eyes, but your eyelids are stinging and you soon forget to resist sleep. 

The next time you wake, you find your phone alarm blaring extremely loudly. Groaning, you grab it and try to hit the snooze button. Unfortunately, it’s a bit too late for you to go back to sleep—the sheer volume of the alarm has entirely roused you from slumber. You sigh and push yourself up into a sitting position, electing to scroll through things on your phone for a few minutes. You grab your blanket and tug it up further, feeling chilly all of a sudden.

…Wait a second. Didn’t you fall asleep in the common room last night? You bite your lip and try to remember what happened. Sure enough, you went to the common room and watched TV with Shinsou. You look down at your blanket and frown. How did you end up back in your room? You definitely didn’t walk back. You try to recall the events of the last night, only to freeze upon remembering your short time awake. Someone had been carrying you. 

You’re suddenly immensely grateful that you don’t have a fire Quirk, otherwise your room would be entirely doused in flames. As it is, your heart is pounding treacherously in your chest. You can’t help but think about Shinsou’s arms around your back and legs, the ease with which he lifted you... 

Safe to say, you’re sufficiently frazzled for the rest of the morning. You scramble through your typical routine and grab a quick snack before deciding to go to class a bit early. Surprisingly, you’re far from the only one there. Iida is present, of course. Kirishima, Jirou, and Shinsou are all in their seats too. You greet everyone and walk over to your desk.

“How’d you sleep last night?” Kirishima asks once you sit down. He’s just so sweet. You’d been talking to him yesterday about your trouble sleeping, after all. You’re touched by his concern, of course, but his question immediately provokes what you’d been trying to forget—Shinsou carrying you back to your dorm.

“Oh, um, I slept well,” you choke out, feeling extremely flustered. You suddenly want the ground to swallow you whole. Feeling eyes on you, you turn to find Shinsou staring at you. The satisfied gleam in his eyes confirms your suspicions from before. You take a deep breath and turn back to Kirishima, getting lost in casual conversation. 

Throughout the rest of class, you feel Shinsou’s gaze burning into the back of your head. When the bell finally rings, signaling the end of the period, you sidle up to him and the two of you walk out of the room together. It’s lunchtime now, but neither of you are moving towards the cafeteria with any modicum of speed. Eventually, all of your classmates pass by and Shinsou and you are left alone in the hallway. 

“You didn’t have to carry me back,” you eventually say, once the tense silence between you grows to be unbearable. You can’t help but notice the furrow to Shinsou’s brows—a clear sign that he’s avoiding an answer. 

For a long moment, he is entirely silent. You decide to wait for Shinsou to explain. When he finally does break his silence, he says something entirely unexpected. “What if I wanted to?”

“What?” You ask, convinced you misheard him. 

“I... wanted to,” Shinsou repeats, significantly quieter this time. You blink at him a few times. Somehow, it’s still taking you a while to process just what he’s saying. When you finally comprehend his statement, your eyes widen and you stare at him in thinly-veiled surprise. 

“Oh,” you remark dumbly. “Well... thanks.” Maybe I should lose sleep and come out to the common room more often, you think to yourself. 

“Maybe you should,” Shinsou responds. It takes you several moments to realize that your last remark was voiced aloud and you suddenly feel like melting into an embarrassed puddle on the ground. But the expression on Shinsou’s face is nothing short of complete sincerity—coupled with an attractive confidence that you know to be a result of his extensive sparring sessions with Aizawa. 

“Maybe I will,” you say with a small smile. 

That night, you will venture out to the common room once more. Shinsou will be resting on the couch again and you’ll take your place beside him, before grabbing the remote and scrolling through Netflix. The two of you will stumble upon the account’s history and laugh at the shows Aizawa seems to enjoy, before choosing one to watch. This time, your head will fall on Shinsou’s shoulder much sooner; this time, he wraps an arm around your shoulder without hesitation. You’ll admit in murmurs that you enjoy spending time with him, and he’ll echo the sentiment. For a quick yet seemingly endless stretch of time, the two of you will sit in silence. Then, possessed by some otherworldly courage, you will lean close and ask to kiss him—only for him to meet you halfway and make the first move. 

Then, since the both of you have horrible luck, Aizawa will walk in and interrupt you. You will try to break apart, but it’ll be too late. For a long moment, your teacher will study the both of you, before an unimpressed expression appears on his face and he mentions that he got a notification that someone was using his Netflix account. Shinsou will try to play dumb—and you’ll remain silent, out of fear for your life—before Aizawa, knowing when to give in, huffs and bids you both a good night.

But right now it’s lunchtime, and all the words you want to say feel trapped under your tongue. And before you can summon the courage to even begin telling Shinsou just what he means to you, Kaminari appears out of nowhere and slings his arms around you both. The moment between Shinsou and you is temporarily broken, but you smile with the knowledge that you’ll reunite with him in the quiet night once more.

thanks for reading! <3

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[yandere-wishes]

ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕔 𝔹𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖

Synopsis: You finally realize that you and Miguel are stuck inside a comic book romance. 

Warnings: Yandere themes, angst, the reader has Stockholm syndrome but can we really blame her? 

There's something about a sleepless night that's lethal. A loaded gun aimed point blank at your head and your heart and your eyes that are too weary to recall the difference between fact and fiction. Right and wrong.

Miguel should be home soon you think as you stare at the Daily Bugle's nightly broadcast. The headlines are the same as last week's villain attack and the week before that, and the week before that. 

'SPIDERMAN REPORTED DEAD AFTER TANGLE WITH NUEVA YORK'S NEWEST VILLAIN!'

 You think this is the 18th time he's died this month. A hologram dances in front of you, some withering reporter adamant in his claim that this time. This time for sure Spiderman is dead. A Harrowing claim, one you know to be false. Your lover isn't so easy to kill, you should know on account of how many times you had tried. Back when you'd painted Miguel O'Hara as the villain in your story, back when you were so obstinate to return to a wholly ignorant life of so-called freedom. 

Miguel can't die, you refuse to believe that a man like that is subject to such a mortal thing. 

You use to try to imagine a Miguel that had grown old. You couldn't back then and still can't today. Because heroes are eternal, or so you've come to believe.  They die a hundred deaths and reawaken younger than before. Heroes aren't immortal -that's the part that makes your heart skip a beat- yet death has never had the chance to lay claim to them. Miguel is fine you're sure of it. 

There's a noise, a disturbance in the wind, the sound of thousands of coiled webs being used to sling across the air.

A sign that Spiderman has arrived.

He's here.

You can't help but smile. 

"What's the old man saying this time?" 

You turn to see Miguel, land at the edge of the rooftop. Legs limb as he staggers towards you. With a defeated moan he sits down. Close enough for you to inspect the galaxy of bruises that dance across his stunning face. 

When did you fall in love with him, again? 

"You're supposed to be dead," you say, a bitter laugh following, the peculiar words.

"I think that's the 14th time the Bugals had a spread on me dying" He chuckles, dry and humorless. 

You bite your tongue to avoid correcting him. 

"Who was it this time? Venom or Flipside?" you ask, trying to guess which of the two had been able to give the Miguel O'Hara a run for his money. 

"Just some kid, from another dimension. Mocoso already screwed up the canon once, and he's damn well trying to do it again. He used Spider Bite to send himself home, so I didn't get the chance to..." He doesn't bother finishing that sentence. Doesn't have to, you've seen worlds collapse upon themselves because a tiny imperfection had distraught the canon. You know why he does this. You know why he must do this. No one is exempt from the canon. No matter how young and naive they may be. 

How peculiar the life of superhumans are. For all the guts and glory every hero's world is only bounded by thin silk strings. Perpetually on the verge of collapse should the chosen one refuse to follow destiny's orders. 

Heroes aren't pretty, they neither sparkle nor shine. Instead, they burn with a self-lit fire that grows out of control, burning until only ashes remain. Heroes are tragedies swung across every dimension. War-torn children with blood under their fingernails and chipped teeth from one too many close calls. Heroes aren't pretty, nor beautiful, nor divine. They're mangled creatures who come alive at night, staggering across half-lit streets doing what they believe is right. 

You've tried to commit this to memory. Tried to memorize it so you wouldn't make the same mistakes as every lovesick idiot who's fallen in love with a superhero. 

But sometimes it's so hard to remember, especially when Miguel has been your only companion for months now. The only person you have to talk to. The only person who is there in the early hours of the morning when even sleep abandons you. And he's always there again at night to tuck you in before he departs to fight whoever has broken the few simple rules that the canon calls for. You've almost come to appreciate his paranoia and insistence that you stayed locked inside the penthouse. Although he's grown a bit bolder as of late. Permitting you free range of the terrace and rooftop. A sign of good faith, he'd called. Whilst you'd presume that he's come to enjoy you waiting outside to greet him when he returns from the miseries of being a golden boy. 

"I try to save everyone, I try to make sure the universe is held upright. So why the hell does everyone always treat me like I'm the villain?" His voice is raising, fangs glowing in loose rays of starlight. His hands are crossed in annoyance. You rest your hand on his arm as you snuggle closer.

Heroes and villains, what's the difference? 

That's a question the two of you have been pondering for too long now. 

Even though you doubt  Miguel truly knows who he is. It's hard to fall into the orderly boxes of 'good' and 'bad' when the fate of every universe lies on your already brittle shoulders. 

He's a hero who acts like a villain. That's what you use to call him. Back when he'd first plucked you away from your ordinary mundane life.Deeming the world too dangerous for a defenseless little civilian such as yourself. He had promised to love you, to cherish you. Back when you'd been so resistant to play the role of the hero's lover. But seeing as how no matter what nightmares he went through as Spiderman, he had still kept those two promises. You had slowly started to grow fond of him

Time and time again Miguel has made you feel like a butterfly caught in a spider's web. Wings clipped and waiting for the inevitable. He's overbearing to the point where his sheer presence feels like a boulder placed on your chest. Or maybe his strings have finally found their way to your heart, coiling around the organ controlling its every beat and pulse. Yet somehow, somehow, you started to desire more and more of him.

You're in love with the hero who plays the villain. 

You're in love with the villain who bares a hero's mask. 

"You should be more careful when dealing with the other spiders. I hear they're not all as precautious as you." Your fingers trace the purpling marks on his cheek.  Sliding from one universe to another. 

You know Miguel isn't a tiny spider he's a bloodthirsty tarantula. Yet you still worry. Fear that one day he may fail to return home. 

"You shouldn't worry about me preciosa,"

"Someone has to, Miguel, you're not as indestructible as you may think."

"If I kiss you will you stop complaining?"

There's no room to answer, his lips rest on yours, forceful and sweet. Captivating, dominating, and as always overbearing. His fangs slowly sink into the back of your lips. That familiar iron taste invades your mouth once again. 

Sometimes Miguel feels like a hero, shouldering the universe's burdens, and fighting for what's right. After all, with great power comes great responsibility. This is what he wanted, he always wanted to be the hero.

But sometimes when the spider's lair is abandoned and he returns home to you, he can't help but feel like the villain. He's protecting you he knows that. Justifying it is easy when you watch dimensions wither away in violent glitching and endless screams, daily. Yet he wonders if his predecessors were ever like this. If the heroes are supposed to keep their lovers locked away. Alone yet safe. A fair trade in his mind. 

Miguel isn't quite human, half-everlasting and half-horror. 

A dangerous combination

Or at least a confusing one. 

The point is he's some sort of hero. But that also means he's some sort of villain. Even the old tales got things wrong, not every superhero is carved from porcelain and ivory. Not every villain is built from ash and rage.  

Sometimes heroes are carved from gravestone granite and glazed with poison. Sometimes their powers are self-inflicted curses that chew away at flesh and bone. sometimes the hero's halo is made of barbed wire digging into his scalp and embittering his thoughts. Sometimes heroes kill themselves before any villain gets the chance. Spitling their body apart a million times a day because destiny decided to play a cruel joke on them. Picking the weakest of all mankind to become its guardian. 

When he pulls away from the kiss, he lifts your hand to his mouth. 

His fangs sink into your finger puncturing bone as he gnaws the stress away. Blood leaks down his chin, spilling over the rooftop. He pulls your body closer. An anchor in a never-ending storm. 

You kiss his chin, looking into his eyes. Eyes that can never choose whether they wish to be human or monster. Your head instinctively finds his chest nestling into the cold metal of his suit. 

Oh, how you wish you could crack his rib cage open and crawl inside. 

Sometimes you think back to the original tales. The ones from your dimension, albeit it seems that -regardless of a few rare exceptions- the stories are consistent in every universe.  

The story always goes the same. Peter Parker falls in love with MJ or Gwen, you've come to learn that in the long run, it doesn't really matter. Spiderman saves them again and again. Until the whole world knows that Mj or Gwen are somehow connected to the masked hero. But never once does she leave his side. Rebellious blond or dotting redhead, Spiderman's lover stays regardless of how desperate and vicious the villains become when they start to learn that the story always ends in the hero's favor. 

It's every gal's dream to be the lover of a superhero. Awaiting their betrothed's triumphant return. Greeting them with amorous tidings and cherry red kisses. 

You think you're Gwen or Mary Jane. Or whoever else decided to fall in love with the troubled boy who has radioactivity coursing through his veins. The boy who was deemed a hero and thus was destroyed because of it.

Of course, there's the other part. The underlying message of the story, that parents all so conveniently 'forget' to tell their children. The disease of the otherwise perfect tale. They forget to tell you that Gwen Stacy fell to her death and Mary Jane is left abandoned, once the hero realizes that his mere presence is a curse. Stories may end in the hero's favor but much like the villain the lover is also doomed by the narrative. That's normal for any hero's lover. They always burn out to cater to the hero's ever-fuming torch of justice.

you feel broken, as you're sure they did too. An unspoken rule of being with a hero is that eventually, you start to lose your sense of self without them. It doesn't make sense when you put it like that but along the way bits and piece of you broke off. Pieces that you forgot to patch up. You've been mending by using segments of Miguel to make yourself feel whole again. It's a small miracle that you still hold a fading memory of whom you used to be before he made you his. A miracle that sweeps through the cracks of your soul. 

Heroes never need to fear death, just an eternity of pain. Losing everyone they love, over and over again. Maybe that's why Miguel's grip is so suffocatingly tight. He knows that eventually, not today and maybe not tomorrow but eventually he's going to lose you too. 

You're a comic book Juliet and he's Romeo with superpowers. Everyone knows that comic book heroes are doomed from the start. Neither you nor Miguel are exceptions. 

Maybe the two of you are doomed by the narrative.

But for tonight, as the moon slowly sinks behind the skyscrapers and the stars fade one by one. The two of you are safe in each other's arms. 

[jetii]

Stars Align

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

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.

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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[groundzerosgirlfriend]

Breaking the Rules.

If anyone ever caught him like this, he doesn't think he'd ever be able to recover. The sound of footsteps wandering a little too close to one of the many abandoned classrooms at the infamous Night Raven College made the hairs on his skin stand up straight with fear, and his soft, labored breathing ceased entirely for a few moments. He'd probably prefer if the ground magically opened up and swallowed him whole, wiping him completely off the face of the world entirely, then to ever be exposed in such a public and lewd demeanor.

It's unbecoming of a young man like himself to be treated in such a humiliating manner. The position he held at Night Raven College was supposed to set him apart from the other 'stragglers' and 'peasants' on campus. It was supposed to show his competence to lead his dorm, his dignity, and his grace. It was all he knew, as he had sacrificed his entire youth for it. An overbearing childhood stuck at a wooden desk and an uncomfortable chair in his designated room, loveless and aggressive words from a guardian who already had his future planned out for him, a lack of physical affection that he now yearns for, and a myriad of sleepless nights and tired mornings staring at the fine print of thousands of textbooks have sculpted him into who he is.

Yet, his current display was significantly less than dignifying. It destroyed and demolished the entire image he had been creating and perfecting over the past 17 years. Instead, portraying how pathetic and touch-starved he truly was, for the smallest scraps of affection and approval, when he had accepted a handjob from the infamous NRC prefect fighting against overblots left and right ever since they had landed themselves in this mystical world.

Though handjob wasn't truly the correct term to describe this scene, Instead, it was more you holding your fist open and him humping pitifully through the hole in your hand as you occasionally squeezed down on him; his back leaned into your chest as you leaned against the wall of the empty classroom. Through the midst of his foggy and melted mind, he heard your soft coos towards him, your soft kisses pressing down his cervical vertebrae (boom, nursing major!).

His body felt hot, way warmer than it usually was in his uniform. He wanted nothing more than to claw his way out of yours and his clothes, craving skin-to-skin contact with you. Yet, all he is given is a hushed whisper as soon as he attempts to speak through choked groans.

"Shhh...just feel my dear. Don't speak. Don't want anyone to see you like this do we." Crooning gently in his ear as you blow streams of cool air on his lobes.

The words are caught in a lump in his throat as his mind screams at him to tell you what he wanted—no needed in this moment. Yet he can't. His tongue is heavy, and his sentences fall flat as he tries not to tear up from how good you're making him feel. This sort of pleasure was unknown to him; doing such a thing in his mother's house was taboo of the greatest extent and would surely end in her screeching at him, just as she does whenever he does something she does not approve of, and though he had knowledge of the reproduction system in high detail thanks to the numerous textbooks, nothing could have prepared him for the prickly feeling running through his veins and the gentle cramping of his balls as he tries to figure out what exactly is happening to him and why he does not want it to stop.

Your hand clutches down gingerly once more for a mere moment, still not entirely wrapped around him as he desperately fights the urge to ask you to do more, not wanting to sound greedy or ungrateful for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity you've given him despite the whereabouts. So, he simply grits his teeth and looks down in shame, quickly noticing the generous amounts of slick wetness now slathering your hand and his dick from his pre-cum alone, embarrassed to be this aroused by such a simple act.

He grimaces internally at the scene but is quickly caught off guard as he suddenly does less of the humping and your hand grips around him entirely, and your ministrations become much heartier as you move back and forth quickly, causing a huge spike in the pleasure he was feeling and bringing back the returning tightness in balls that now lingers in his stomach as well.

This time he has no choice but to speak, the hastened pace throwing him head-first into something he has never been accustomed to, with his words slurred and stuttered as he tries to assemble a coherent sentence. "W-wait..to much..f-feels-."

Yet, his words fly right past your ears and are cut even shorter as you take pleasure in his uncomposed state, his jaw slacks, and as his nails dig into your thighs for comfort and grounding, his uniform more wrinkled than it has ever been since you've met. As he babbles incoherent words drowned out by a wretched whimper, your hand is coated in runny dribbles of whitish-translucent cum as tears prick his eyes as heaves and pants his body, shivering from sensitivity alone.

Suddenly his face blooms into a beautiful shade of red similar to the as the roses he forces all the students, misbehaving or well-behaved alike, to paint continuously every week as followers under the Queen of Hearts, an intense shiver running through his entire vertebrae until it ends at the coccyx, as time seemingly slows down as you push your cream-covered fingers in your mouth, a 'pop' reverberating from your lips.

He sighs shakily, as he composes himself, ready to speak a phrase of how disgusting and unappealing such a thing is, but before he can, you knock the wind out of his lungs, just like everything else you do.

"You taste sweet. Keeping eating all of those tarts." He buries his face in hands, as you giggle, knowing that you owe Ms. Rosehearts a sincere handwritten apology along with chocolates and wine for corrupting her son to a point of no return, because now he's addicted to you in all the wrong (right) ways.

[nirvanawrites111]

Set My Wings On Fire Part 2 (Sub!Christian Yu x Fem!dom Reader)

Pairing: Christian Yu/DPR Ian x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1717

Summary: It's been 30 days since you last saw him and he needs to make up for the lost time. You're still delulu af for him, but tonight is all about your pleasure.

Warning: Smut, fem!dom, slight humiliation kink, degradation for Christian calling him bitch and slut, oral sex (fem rec), face strap, face riding, mentions of killing, handcuffing, you're called goddess, fem reader implied but no pronouns used.

Part 1

minors and ageless blogs do not interact. Just put some indication of your age if you're going to engage, please.

"Control me, please. I need you," Christian whimpers for you. His hair is a mess, his eyes are full of darkness, and he's in front of you, begging to be dominated. His hands are restrained.

He's never had a problem relinquishing power over to you. In fact, it was his idea that he wanted to be dommed by you.

Normally, this is all it would take for you to give in to his pleading. He's in your favorite position, on his knees, willing and able to please.

But, for a particular reason, it isn't enough to sway you.

Your lover is desperate for your touch. He needs to feel your fingertips run against his skin more than he requires his next breath.

Yes, he was on the run, but this wasn't his first rodeo, and for knowing him so well, it won't be the last.

Today, was supposed to be a celebration of being able to reunite with each other. Because your man has somehow outsmarted the FBI and the police, and his name is magically no longer on the most wanted list.

You don't ask questions, because these are incriminating details that you can't afford at the moment.

You stand before him and glance down at the man below you. His beautiful dark brown hair is in messy wavy curls, and his knees are on the cold marble floor.

He's shirtless, but he has on sweats. Even through those pants, you can see that he is excited to see you. He is happy to be able to be in your presence.

Yes, you want nothing more than to pounce on your sweet lover, but this is just one problem.

He went completely radio silent on you during this "run."

Which triggered your anxiety more than usual. Every single time your phone rang, you were hoping that it was him to let you know he's safe.

"No," You finally speak after a little bit of time has passed.

It's hard for you not to give in to his wants because you love this man so much. You have blindly decided to meet him at this location in a random ass city, because of your undying loyalty to him. 

You don't even think you could exist without him, which is why those thirty days were harder than expected. Also, because you never knew when they were going to end.

"Goddess," Christian whines in such a deep tone, and his accented plea is so sexy to you. "Please. I need you. All I want to do is serve you. I've had dreams about tasting you and being fucked by you. Please."

"Oh really?"

"Yes." Christian sounds so desperate, but truth be told, you liked being desired in this way. "Use me as you will. I know I've been bad."

His whines seem sincere, but you're not convinced yet. He's going to have to prove to you how sorry he is.

"Tell me.. say it. How have you been bad?" You fold your arms, demanding an answer so that you both know why he needs to be punished.

"I neglected you. It wasn't my intention, angel. I just wanted to protect you."

"Protect me? By ignoring me." You scoff. Tell that to your many sleepless nights wondering if something happened to you.

You walk around the spacious bedroom. Your heels click against the marble floor. Somehow, he's managed to pull off getting a mansion in the middle of nowhere. As you explore the bedroom, your eyes are drawn to the exquisite chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, casting a warm glow across the room. The luxurious furnishings and tasteful decor reflect his understanding of your appreciation for elegance.

However, deep down, you hope this grand gesture isn't his way of compensating for past mistakes, longing for genuine forgiveness and understanding instead.

You turn to face him again and lift his chin to meet his eyes as he explains his reasoning.

"I had to be extra careful, because I didn't want anything getting tied to you. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if that happened. I'm madly in love with you, Y/n."

You want to cuss him out, but the truth is your feelings for him are mutual. So, you feel a bit conflicted because no one understands you the way he does. No one can make you feel the way he does.

No one can dominate you like him. No one can submit the way he does. The perks of being with him outweigh all the bullshit of what he does when he's not with you.

For some, the fear is their partners being unfaithful. For you, it's pondering if any of your disloyal exes ever faced Christian's wrath.

"Christian, I'm going to have to punish you."

"I know, goddess. I deserve it and will take whatever you give me."

"Normally, I would just spank you. But, I have something better planned. Now get over here and eat my pussy, bitch."

You sit down on the comfy bed and spread your legs. You watch as he eagerly falls between your legs. He takes his handcuff hands and pushes your dress up one side at a time. You're already not wearing panties for easy access.

Christian laps all your center. He licks across your clit and swirls around until you gush a little. His tongue trails down to catch all your juices.

You moan in pleasure as Christian's expert tongue explores every inch of your sensitive folds.

"Thank you, goddess, for letting me taste you. All I want to be is serve you."

"Yeah, yeah.. talk is cheap. Keep licking until I cum. No more talking until I do."

You're a bit harsh with him, but you know that he loves to be degraded. His mission is to make you orgasm, which you both know he has no problem doing.

Christian savors at your essence. He whimpers as he licks away at your pussy. The taste of you is something that he's been craving for the last thirty days. Every day he's spent without you left him lost in thoughts of fulfilling your desires.

He would have gladly taken the spanking from you. He loves the way you can take charge of the situation. Your ability to switch is something he admires so much.

You continue to enjoy the satisfaction of him practically worshipping you because you're literally a goddess in his eyes.

Christian isn't playing with you. His tongue is working overtime to make sure his goddess cums.

One thing about your man is he knows how to please you. He knows how you like it when he goes fast. He giving you faster licks to the point you have to grab the back of his head because you're approaching your peak.

"Fuck, I'm so close... baby. Just like that!" You cry out.

Before you can utter another word, Christian continues his reluctance pace, bringing you closer to your peak. As you tiptoe closer to your climax, your legs tremble, and you close your eyes to enjoy that final moment before you release.

The intensity of your orgasm rips through you, and you ride the familiar wave that you crave so much. Christian isn't letting up, either. He continues to suck your juices out of your pussy.

He's addicted to the way that you taste. He licks you clean until you push him away from you.

"God, I've missed you, goddess," Christian says, crawling back between your legs to give your pussy a final french kiss because he's so in love with pleasing you.

Christian is the type that you could lock him in a room with you and make him eat you for hours and hours. He would enjoy it more than you, because that's how addicted he is to you. He just wants to please you in any way he can.

Christian lays his head on your thigh, waiting for your next instruction.

"Christian," you call his name.

"Yes, goddess?"

You could see the light in his eyes and his eagerness when he was with you. This is the man that no one else gets to see. This is the side he hides from the world.

"You know... you did a great job giving me head. Which I would expect from a slut like yourself. But, you're not cumming tonight. I am. But, I'll let you fuck me."

"Really, goddess?"

"Yes, with a strap-on. You don't deserve to feel my pussy just yet."

You know that Christian was expecting to get pegged. Maybe he thought he would get a rough pegging session, and you would deny him release. But, you have a point to prove.

"Goddess, I really can't get fucked? I was really waiting for this."

"And I was really waiting to hear from you. Maybe you could earn a chance to get fucked, but until then, get on the bed."

You grab the face strap on and put it on his face so that you can ride his face this time.

"You ready?" you ask him.

"Yes, goddess."

You're still wet from when he ate your pussy, so you position yourself over his face while you ease down onto the strap. You quickly find a rhythm as he pumps from underneath you.

Although you would rather have Christian hard dick inside of you, the strap feels good inside of you. You stroke your clit as you enjoy Christian pleasuring you. 

"You're so eager to make me cum again, huh slut.. you're that desperate to get fucked in the ass?" You degrade him.

"Mmmhm.. yes, goddess. But, my priority right now is just pleasing you. I can't wait to feel your juices drip down my face."

You hold onto the headboard as you ride his face strap-on. Sure, it might be punishment, but Christian is enjoying very moment.

For the second time tonight, you feel the familiar feeling.  Your body tenses up, and a wave of pleasure washes over you as you reach your climax. Your juices coat his face, and now he's glistening with your cum all over his face.

You remove the strap from his face and slip your tongue into his mouth. "You did a great job pleasing me... maybe we could talk about you riding my strap." "I'd like that goddess."

Please reblog if you enjoyed my work! It helps my work get discovered by other readers. I would GREATLY appreciate it!!!

[mianaissante]

34+35 — jujutsu kaisen, n. kento 🩰

tags: face riding, 69, size difference kink, nanami kento/fem!!reader, established relationship, 18+, nsfw.

“ you drink it just like water, you say it tastes like candy”

୨୧ it is recommended to listen to 34+35 by ariana grande whilst reading

minors dni, enjoy!

one of many things you had to consider before dating nanami kento was his "alleged" wonderful libido. you thought he was the kind of man who'd pump in a few tries inside you and burst all over your womb and call it a day, no offense. but in several ways, nanami has proved you wrong of that god forsaken assumption.

he had the sexual drive of a horny teenager, even worse, one with a stash of all the latest sex magazines. the complete opposite of his usual demeanor, calm and collected, patient and understanding. it's as if when he's turned on he flips onto a whole new personality and it's game over for you.

and for all honesty, it had you questioning whether he was a sex addict.

not that you were complaining or anything, but maybe you were, because who in the hell would be able to keep up for more than 10 rounds? you were worried for your organs constantly being rearranged by his huge length, not that you were complaining either, you loved his dick and the way he strikes it inside like he memorized every nook of your walls.

but there are times when you give out and the next thing you know your inner thighs are bruised, laced with peppering hickeys paired with a pain you could not bare. your hips weren't any better too, they felt like they got detached from the rest of your body from the intensity of his rampaging thrusts.

and why were you thinking all of this while cuddling him in bed, watching a cute romcom on the tv in his room? you felt as though the air had become thick, in any shape or form, it was suffocating to say the least. your arms were hooked on his strong, broad, body, barely even reaching the other side because of his huge size.

with eyes on the movie, your legs were encircling his hips like a koala clinging to a tree. nanami wasn't a man of culture, to you atleast. he was like every millennial who was serious about their job, he didn't have any interests of anything, just work..and maybe a mix of you and coffee.

after a long week in the office and back to back flights from tokyo to malaysia, he was tired, and more evidently frustrated.

you were innocently watching the movie, breathing softly in his chest as he played with strands of your hair.

your eyes flicker softly from the screen to him, “ how was work baby?” a huff escaped from his lips, eyes sunken from all the sleepless nights he spent. your legs were running up and down against his and onto his hips, knowing how much he'd like it.

especially since it's been a month since you guys had done anything overtly sexual, you smiled.

“ work was the usual, i'm beginning to consider gambling and tricking men into giving me their millions” he jokes, the skin near his eyes crinkling as he simpered a small grin. “ i missed you so much.” he whispered on your forehead, planting a kiss on it softly.

“ me too,” you paused, stopping your legs from going down on his hips now. “ are you still stressed ken?” cooing, you removed your legs from his warm body, revealing the tent he had underneath the blanket that you both were in. “ was work so hard that you missed me?”

“ i'm still stressed” he says as a matter of fact, “ and yes it was bad enough that i missed you terribly sweetheart.” your eyes darted from his lips to his irises.

you removed the fabric away from your sticky body and away from nanami who adjusted himself to sit properly next to you. his eyes were burning with a glint of lust, “ darling, whatever are you planning right now you have to stop.”

“ why,” you pout, sitting in w. you splayed your hands on the bed between your thighs, head tilted to the side in curiosity.

“ i might be too much baby, we can't do anything right now.”

“ nonsense ken, let me help you.” you reached for his boxers, yes boxers, when at home and you're cuddling with him he's only in his boxers while you were in your usual pajamas which were tank tops and your flimsy sets of underwear.

you bit your lips, you just knew what you were getting into, but did he get bigger or was it you just tweaking? your gaze was met with his hardened sheath hidden from the world by his cotton underwear. as your hands were inching closer to his clothed dick, his hands, bigger, calloused, and thicker, envelopes yours. you glance at him, lips pursed.

“ let me atleast eat you out before we do anything more,” he pleads.

within a span of seconds all your clothes were tossed messily on the floor while nanami placed himself on the foot of the bed, his head on the edge of it with you shakily shimmying your underwear off.

“ are..you sure of this, ken?”

“ trust me on this sweetheart, i'll make you feel great.” he smiles, placing his hands on your hips, a grip tighter than usual.

“ won't you suffocate to death?” you ask him again, in case he'd ever change his mind..but you knew he was just as stubborn as you. “ i would love to suffocate between your legs, [name].”

“ w-well i haven't shaved and i—” he cuts me off, “ I don't care, just let me go down on you.”

you shook your head embarrassingly, it was going to be a long night indeed.

you swung your leg over his head, your knees coming into contact with both ends of his temples, “ sink down on me darling.”

your lips gaped, wanting to detest to his orders but you knew you couldn't, not when he's already licking his lips at the sight of your puffy cunt, a little wet from your initial interaction with him.

your heart was pounding louder than drums, thumping harder in your ears until it clouded your mind, you couldn't breathe. there was no doubt that you were turned on by this, and you were excited about it.

his firm hands guided your hips to settle on his face, you hovered above him slightly, just enough for his lips to meet with your slit, just enough for his tongue to nestle itself in your slick, you gulped, hearing his grumble.

“ you're not sitting down,” his hot breath fans with your heat, your body shuddered in the feeling, knees almost giving out. “ i'm scared i'll suffocate you, ken.” you trailed.

“ fine, i guess i'll have to make you sit down by yourself darling.” he lets go of your hips, leaving a red mark on your skin from his intense grip. you had your arms on top of his chest while you were on your tiptoes trying not to give out.

gentle fingers slithered its way towards your cunt, spreading your lips apart which revealed the plump flesh of your cunt. a soft erotic gasp erodes from your mouth, realizing his tongue was prying your pussy open. you were reeling in.

“ hah..shit,” it was as if you forgot how he felt like, licking you clean and dirty. nanami flicks your flesh slowly, circling his tongue repeatedly on your skin before teasingly tugging on your clit with his lips.

the blonde haired man spat on your gaping hole, tapping his tongue on and off it before swirling its tip on your pulsing clit. his lapping muscle felt so divine, it was as if you were reaching near heaven with the way he struck himself inside and around your dripping cunt.

“ k—kent—ohh!” you cried, biting the inner walls of your cheeks when he started to flatten his thick tongue underneath your heat, a constant pace of licking upwards with no stop, cupping your bud with his lips before sucking it in sharp breaths, the suctioning sending you else where besides earth.

your legs were shuddering against his feverish, tantalizing, kisses. “ just like that sweetheart,” he praised as he felt your hips bucking uncontrollably out of his simple actions. “ attagirl,” he grins beneath your slick, sucking harder on your clit while his tongue flicked it around in left and right motions, vandalizing your innocence.

“ sh—shit,” you managed to let out a gutteral moan, your hands were now crumpled against his chest, knees still swaying while you lost your balance. “ k—kento—hah” a knot in your stomach began to wrinkle in, closing you with a gap you knew too well.

his movements began to be more erratic than usual, he was quick to his tongue whilst suctioning himself earnestly onto your clit. he was rough and god did it feel so fucking good. you couldn't help yourself up anymore and nanami noticed. his hands which held your cunt apart left and travelled down on your legs, letting you sink your knees onto the soft mattress which made you squat down on his face.

“ mhnm—right there—hah—ah!” eyes rolling back into the cave of your sockets, you felt yourself clutching harder on his chest as you tried to keep yourself afloat. it was too much, he was too much. nanami kept himself at a normal pace this time around, letting his ears enjoy the slick sounds of your wet slit seeping with juices.

“ you taste good, darling.” he groans beneath you, making use of his nose to run up and down your pulsing hole. “ sh—shit! kento!” fuck..holy shit, what the fuck was that? you were giving in, and you were almost there. you gave up crunching yourself in such a tight position and rose, arching your back in pleasure as nanami's strong hands grounded you against his big nose.

“ d—don't stop!” you whined, leaning backwards throwing your head back like an animal who just got loose. your hand found itself on the back of his head while your other toyed with your pebbled nipple, “ I don't on plan doing so,” he gruffed, taking a dose of you again, flicking his tongue in circles around your bud then suctioning again with his lips.

you were delirious at this point, finally sinking down on his face, the pressure fluttering your stomach ever so suddenly. “ fuck, [name], i completely forgot how great you taste..” he trembled, muffling out the words as his lips were against yours.

“ i missed your needy cunt babe, shit..”

your hips wove back and forth, shaking in circles and in infinities. “ fuck yes, yes, yes! kento!” with every strike of your grinds your voice became more vulnerable, you were feeling something pent up in knots, curling its way towards your end.

“ keep going baby, don't stop grinding,” he says, “ you're sweet as candy.”

those words were enough to spiral you down to your doom, it was a never ending sensation, toes curling as your thighs clenched on his head, which in turn made the man grunt in short breaths. “ hah—h—ngh—mhnn,” fingers clasped your hardened nipples, pinching whilst tugging aggressively as you rode harder, feeling his nose come into contact with your aching, seeping hole.

he smiled beneath your beautiful cunt which glistened with the mixture of your own secretions and his saliva. “ use me darling, however you want, just like that.” god he knew what words to say to make you feel like such a slut, such a filthy whore who's thirsty for his feverish touches.

you felt on edge, it was pooling in, your eyes were rolling back yet again, toes curling together, cheeks flushed in red, lips glowing in wetness, and legs shaking so aggressively, this was it. your hips struck one last time before slumping forward down on his body with your ass up, still giving him space to licking your pussy.

you spasmed on top, breathing sharply as your stomach began to tie together, contracting as your pussy pounced upwards with clear liquid spraying against the man's face. you just squirted on him, and he..was pleased. and with that you slumped further on his lips, your body now laying against his.

“ you're so fucking hot [name], you got me wet baby.” he grinned against your buzzing cunt still squirting the rest of the liquid out of its entrance, he fanned hot air against your pussy which made you shudder, licking you once again.

“ k—kento...fuck...” you were overstimulated, and more evidently, you were tired..and he just ate you out. your sleepy eyes left the corner of the room to his length which hid behind his boxers.

you just had to return the favor.

you rose a bit, reaching for his boxers then pulling them down to get a feel on his hardened dick. your hands dragged onto him, palming his sheath with bitten lips. you were so turned on just by touching the head of his cock.

the man behind you winced, groaning in his place as he ate you out eagerly, your fingers circled his tip, tapping on its opening before dragging it further down on its body, feeling every curve and nerve which rested beneath his skin. he wasn't this big last time, what happened?

“ sweetheart you don't have to”

his voice stopped you from reaching his balls, you looked behind him with a confused look.

“ you aren't feeling pleasure ken..”

“ i already am—” he reaches forward towards your cunt, flattening his tongue then swirling it in circles whilst pulling hard on your hips. “hearing the juices drip from your puffy cunt is enough for me baby..im so close”

“ let me help you ken..” you whisper, now palming his head in patterns before pumping it up and down using both hands. yes, both hands.

he denies you, shaking his head as a no, “ let me do all the work here sweetheart.”

you shook your head as no as well, “ hush kento, let me help...”

swiftly, you swished your hair to one side, facing away from him and onto his groin which rested his length. you gulped at the sight of it clothed, imagining what it would look like outside, not that you don't know..its just been so long since you've seen him.

sighing, you dragged his boxers down, his hips rising to help you with it. your eyes widened, lips bitten in surprise, his throbbing cock springs out from his underwear, finally facing you daringly.

you were trying so hard to focus as he was busy suctioning himself up against your bud, you just had to pleasure him in some way.

his length wasn't what you expected, for fuck's sake, it stood as tall as your entire head...as thick as your forearms. he was big already, just not this big. you swallowed a lump in your throat as you inched closer to him, smelling his hot sex feathering its way into your nose.

your lips found itself settling on his head, “ f-fuck..” he was that sensitive huh?

you stabilized yourself in his length, a hand palming his balls while the other pumped his dick. “ g—god, baby if you—” he stops flickering his tongue on your hole, letting his head sink on the plush bed. “ fuck,” he guts out while you squeezed your cheeks together around his head, your tongue circling it so hungrily.

he keeps up with your actions, both of you now drunken with each other's sexes, juices forever seeping away while you mindlessly swallowed his length. his dick was big, it was beginning to hurt, but got were you so turned on by his noises.

he was letting out soft gasps, hard groans, and dozens of praises, you could only clench your thighs hard by him.

you could only cover a few inches of his fat cock with your tight mouth, anything after that will choke you to death. “ keep going [name], don't stop..” he groaned against your slit, he was still going at it.

you smiled on his length, eyelids brimming to close as you sleepily fucked him with your lips, you felt guilty though, you couldn't swallow him down to your throat. maybe there was some way you could ease your way through it?

you spat on his dick, leaving your lips away from his head, a string of precum and saliva bridging it together. humming in pleasure, you pumped his hard cock with both hands your grip tighter and harder. “sweetheart, please...softer..i—i might—” he whimpers, eyes closing shut forcibly, his lips quivered with the way you dragged your hands up and down.

squelch, squelch, splat, squelch.

continuous sounds escaped from your mouth as your repeatedly sank yourself on his cock, trying not to brush your teeth against his length. he was already down your throat and your jaw was tired. up and down, up and down, up and fucking down, “ f-fuck baby...do—don't stop!”

you struggled to breathe but you too were feeling your high being met with nanami's tongue toying with your pussy like that. “ cum all over my face princess, i don't care.” he sighs, rolling his eyes back.

“ wet me with your juices, spray it on me like the slut you are baby.”

you felt yourself experience your second high, eyelids beginning to falter and you let out your final breaths before slumping on his dick, hot liquid invading the insides of your cheeks as you swallow his load clean.

did you pass out? your eyes fluttered open, nanami's dick was beside your head, still hard but you were sitting on his face as he gave you kitten licks.

“ you're finally awake?” he smiles, you pulled away from his face realizing what you've done. “ s—sorry— i—” he laughs, holding both your hands as you faces him, straddling his waist.

“ i'm fine darling, with that stunt you pulled off earlier, i didn't think i'd last longer.”

“ oh..” you glance behind you, his plump dick tapping on your ass. “ you're still hard?”

he hums, a hand running across your back and onto your ass, lifting it up before spanking it softly. “ let me help..” nanami grinned, pinching your nose, cupping your face then planting a soft kiss. “ of course baby.”

your boyfriend swiftly rose up from his position and slithered his arms around your back and on the back of your knees. he carried you to the head of the bed where all the pillows were.

“ nanami...” he flashes you his soft eyes, making his way between your legs with his erection twitching at the sight of your body. he finally closed the gap against the two of you, the back of his dick tapping onto your clit.

he gently smiles, “ i'll be gentle for tonight.”

you knew he was but when he gets drunk on your pussy he could get rougher and rougher by the second. this was a disaster waiting to happen, and you knew what you had gotten yourself into...

a long night of fucking with nanami would last hours, even days.

[blueparadis]

❝ SAVE YOUR BREATH ❞ + SHINJI HIRAKO ❪ playing ⌗7, ⌗8 & ⌗9 ❫─── via radio line ❛ anatomy of emotions ❜〳 from this is what ____ feels like !

[ content and themes ]::f!reader x fwb!shinji hirako, angst, ex! boyfriend aizen souske, fluff; 1k word count. // [ tag index ]

There has always been an awful connection between the monsoons and the morbids in Seireitei. It is the cold. It is the cold that stays after the downpour. It is the cold that makes one feel alone, helpless till sadness strikes your heart. Shinji is aware of this.

However, he can not understand why he feels lonely and helpless on such a bright sunny day. Perhaps in the world of fragile mortals, things work in a different manner. Being a Shinigami for centuries and floating amid the mundanity is an unending road of misery and darkness for him. Shinji does not remember, his memories of this world, but the trail of mishaps from Seireitei to Hueco Mundo he followed led back to the girl he dotes on.

You are sitting opposite to him in a peach-colored floral dress with different-sized roses embroidered on it. It is a delightful colour but you do not look happy. The cafe is crowded and your boyfriend, Hirako attracts every pair of eye that passes by him. His waist-length blonde fall of hair is tied by a strawberry rubber band you left at his place last time. He is wearing a simple full sleeves top with grey jeans.

Shinji speaks stretching one of his arms to keep the cup on the plate, “Do you remember when we first met? ” sustaining his inclined sitting posture. He does not sound sad, or angry. It is hard to pinpoint how exactly he is feeling. Maybe because he is too focused on yours, he worries that you might disintegrate into someone else.

You smile barely as your gaze remains intact, on your thighs. Sucking in a small breath you look up to your boyfriend nodding. “Yes.I do.” You take a sip of tea. “To be honest, of all the people I have met in this life probably yours is the oddest and hence, the most memorable.” Your voice trembles a little at the end.

Shinji asses the way you speak. He is calm, almost too calm. He thinks back on the question he just asked you. He can not say the same about you but that does not mean he has forgotten it, does not mean he holds no regard for all those memories he created with you. If he were to be honest he would say that he has too many options to choose from. He is unable to pick the best. Does he even need to? Can't he keep all of them safe in one place?

Every memory that he has shared with you, spent with you — all those lazy morning brunches that ended with sleeping during the warm afternoon being wrapped with each other under the futon, all those sleepless nights that he spent with you watching the stars, then watching you, kissing your moles and counting them like the stars. He would get bored if he counted the stars in the sky but never when it comes to counting the moles on your body. You kept him on his toes, invested with your cute little reactions to his habits and actions. Sometimes he would watch you cook and listen to how your day went and some other times he would wrap your legs around his waist with his cock shoved inside you, eliciting moans from you, drawing constellations on your skin with his lips and teeth so that when he leaves you think of him and only him.

Shinji has not spoken for almost two minutes. He is falling, drowning in a pool of memories he was never supposed to. He is as silent as a pond. You are like a pebble to him. You have created ripples in his soul that went beyond his imagination. And now those ripples are turning into waves; a pond now slowly distorts into a river. You were just a mission to him, but here he is sitting at a cafe with you, so desperate to find a reason for himself not to go away or to leave you alone. He does not even know if he is getting attached or dependent on you or if is it the other way around. Those tears in your eyes are what confused him.

And that is the very reason why it is so hard to forget, to heal the hurt in you. Shinji has no complaints. He could take away your memories and act like nothing ever happened between you two but would he really be okay with you having to forget him? Probably he saw it coming or a tiny part of him always knew that his relationship with you will not thrive forever. Ever since you saw Souske last week at work you knew you had to end this arrangement with Shinji. This odd arrangement of 'playing boyfriend' to plug the cleft that Souske left behind.

Aizen being back in town changed everything. Shinji realized that he can not keep playing boyfriend for you. He forgot he was here to protect the vessel holding one of the seven keys to open Pandora's box. You might be lying to him by saying the reason for your break up is just you need space and a short break but Shinji knows he deserves it. At least he thinks he does because he had been lying to you all the time about so many things, about the fact that he knows Souske or about the part where he is interested in you just because Souske choose you to be one of his vessels. Shinji exhales deeply. His slouched posture finally breaks as he leans forward, tucking some stray strands behind his ear he admits, “There’s nothing you could have done. I understand. It's okay.”

It is anything but not okay. How could it be? How could he be so serene and inert? You look around the cafe, seeing different types of people — teenagers, elders, couples- and realize how everyone is living entirely different lives from one another, having their own waves. Sonder, they call it, is the realization that everyone has a story.

You press your teeth lines against each other, your vision blurs for a second and your breathing hitches. “It wasn’t supposed to end like this.” You mumble. “why does it feel like this is goodbye?”

Shinji tucks a few hair strands behind your earlobes. His lips parted. “because it is one.”

“Here is your order ma'am.” The waiter remarks keeping a pastry in front of you shooting you a quick smile. You look at the waiter for a few seconds and then shift it in front of you. There is no one sitting opposite to you now. You check your phone. There are still five minutes left for the blind date to arrive, the best way to not be tense about it is to eat and what could be better than trying different flavors of pastries?

@underratedcharactercorner @angelshub

[whorediaries-09]

the wound won't close

pairing- sirius black x auror!reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort. a/n- it's about you fell in love with something that loves you back and that my friend is sirius black 🗣️🗣️

little train. series masterlist.

remus slid a plate of pancakes across the table, along with a big old cup of sirius' personal poison-the earl gray. the cup is brightly maroon, chipped from the edges as it touches his lips. sirius takes a small sip, letting the liquid burn down his throat.

'you still got it.' sirius chuckles. remus bemused, scoffs. he slides his long fingers into his sandy locks before answering.

'eat. put some flesh within your madness.'

'well you'd know all about the madness within the flesh, wouldn't you?' he says.

'you never came, sirius. the letter. i showed up and stayed there for about two hours, waiting for you.' sirius gulps before answering him.

'i ended up into a pub. i don't know why or how, but i did. the question is how did you get here?' remus moves his lips to answer, but when you enter the room, coddling with the little owl perched on your shoulder, he thinks better of it.

'he is asking me how i came here.' the owl nips at your ear before flapping it's wings and sitting beside sirius' plate, taking away little nibbles from his pancakes.

'well... i'm working on trying to justify the prejudice against half-breeds. i can't directly do it since i don't have the position in the ministry to, but for that i need a few statements. remus is the only werewolf i knew so.. well i've been in contact with him. that is basically the root of why me and remus know each other.'

'so you're just an angel from heaven.' sirius replies, taking another bite.

'i don't care who is who, padfoot. i need to know what happened.'

'james made peter the secret-keeper the last moment, upon my wishes. he faked his own death to frame me for the murders he committed. the bastard cut off his own finger-apparently the only thing they found from that night.'

'so you're not to blame?'

'no. you know i'd rather die than kill james! he was my family!' he exclaimed. he dropped the fork onto the plate.

'you know, i suspected you to the spy' he whispered, almost ashamed. you could see blood rush underneath his pale skin as tears welled into his eyes. the thought of getting back an old friend was of great joy to him. the thought of not being lonely again was hauntingly beautiful.

*-

'you look like you're about to pass out, sweetheart.' sirius commented, huffing on your state. your papers were spread across the table, your hands stained with ink as you went through the necessary documents. remus had already left for home, leaving you to nurture for him. sirius had taken a nap after his breakfast, leaving you with enough time to sit alone with your thoughts.

'i know.' you replied. with tired limbs, your stretched your aching body. having sleepless nights wasn't of much absurdity to you. you'd spent endless of sleep less nights practicing your spells to be at the position you were. to be an auror at twenty four wasn't something of a joke, yet you'd managed to do it just the same.

even if that meant losing friends and family.

'what are you doing anyway?' he asked. he walked around the table, sitting in front of you. he was carrying a dark blue cup, steam pouring out the rim.

'i'm looking over the things i require and how many people's shoes i have to lick to change a few laws,' you answered, your eyes averting to his form as you answered. his loose linen white shirt was unbuttoned, revealing an intricate design of tattoos on his chest. black sweatpants hung on narrow hips. you could see tattoos emerging from the expanse of the skin on his legs too.

'are you feeling better now?' you asked, collecting your spread out sheets in an orderly fashion. sirius nodded.

'i am, thanks to you and moony.' you packed your things into your bag, handing him a little piece of paper.

'here's my address, sirius. if you need me, you can write to me. your owl will find me'

'are you leaving now?' he asked, looking at the piece of paper tucked into his palm.

'yes.' you said. a brief moment of sadness flashed on his face before he quipped you with another request.

'stay, you're tired.'

'no, i...i'm not' you answered, trying to stifle a yawn half way through your statement. it leaves your lips anyways. he smiles, in a comforting manner, as he rests his face on his palm.

'you're a pathetic liar,' he states, 'you can rest here as long as you want to. i have a free room down the hall.' nervously, you rub the back of your head, trying to avoid the burning gaze upon you.

'that would be of major inconvenience-i don't think-' before you realize, has his index finger on your lips. how he got up from the chair to be standing in front of you with such fast agility was a mystery.

'it is not of any inconvenience, i assure you. it's an extra room! for guests! you're a guest aren't you?' he said. you couldn't quite meet his eyes, afraid you'd be lost in the depth of them.

'i- uh- you're hungover-'

'sweetheart, look me in the eye and tell me if i'm hungover.' he said, sliding a finger under your jaw. you looked into his eyes, trying not to get lost in them.

'i- okay you win. i'll rest,'

'see, i told you! you should listen to me more often.' that earned a tired laughter out of you.

****************************************

original idea posted by - @lilwnet

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

taglist (for series) - @urbansaint

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

****************************************

[buymeanewlaptopty]

Dos X Batman crossover

So Tim Drake is planning on exploding Ras al ghuls base. And after many sleepless nights (as usual) gets in his sleep-deprived brain, the brilliant idea to summon the God of explosions. Cause why not? It would be way quicker and more efficient than to get all the explosives himself. Young Justice being the enablers they are just support him, cause Tim is the smartest Robin, he was trained by Batman, surely he knows whats up and what are the chances even that actually works??

And they do some summoning ritual from a Sus book Tim found on his travels (when Bruce was stuck in the time stream). And tbh Tim is mostly doing it for sht and kicks but THAN

BAM the summoning is actually working. There is a bit of panic (lots) but then the one who appears is a lil girl. Younger than all of them it seems. Can't be more than 14/15. And she's just like 'sup' (shikako is starstruck cause WHAT??? IS THAT RED ROBIN?? THE BEST ROBIN ??? AND IS THAT YOUNG JUSTICE?? WHAT IN THE WORLD??), cause she's a ninja and she can keep her cool under any weird circumstances and to be fair getting summoned isn't all that surprising with her track record.

The hero team explain that they summoned her. And shikako asks how (assuming she speaks English even though it's been a lifetime ago)? And they show this ritual where Tim made some adjustments to summon the God of explosions (which was basically a seal that Shikako will decode later). Shikako says on instinct/autopilot that she isn't a goddess. She is a bit mortified cause omgomgomg she can never let this be known to Sasuke or Kakashi or Anyone really. She would never hear the end of it.

They talk some more and Shikako asks why they need explosions and Tim explains his situation. And shikako is completely on board like hell yes let's fk up the creepy stalker. And she shows she can make explosions with a touch. And they go on and basically egg Ras base with explosions and its a great time.

After that Shikako stays for a while cause it takes time to find her home dimension and decode the summoning ritual. She is the closest with Red Robin cause he's her(mine) favourite Robin. And they can totally geek out over her seals and technology and differences in their worlds and all that. They both have that single minded drive where they just get lost in their research. And shikako would totally explain her seals to Tim and he could like give suggestions.

Once they didn't come out of their research drive for 3 days, it would have been longer if Superboy didn't drag them out of the room for some food that wasn't caffeine or soldier bars (or whatever I forgot the name)

In the end she leaves but she lets them know that if they ever need her for whatever reason they can summon her again.

~

Afterwards when Tim summons her again and explains the problem. Shikako is like I have just the thing and she has this very weird and very convoluted plan.

But it works.

And they realize that explosions isn't the only thing she can do.

So they begin to call her for other things to and shikako always has a (convoluted) plan that usually works (and if if doesn't then she has a plan that will)

And she can also heal??? So like an on call healer which is great!

But when shikako goes on a mission or isn't available she will let it know through a message (somehow, via seal or via interdimensional technology or maybe a combination)

Sometimes the summons are just to catch up.

And just imagine how the Bats would react. Like there is some seemingly impossible problem/villain and Tim be like 'I know a god' and just summons Shikako from his instant-summon-seal and there Shikako is in all her glory, in her pjs with her blanket still on.

And just has all contingency plans ready for all situations.

Batman has the adoption papers ready and filled by the end of the crisis. But shikako already has a lovely family🤣 so she rejects the offer.

I NEED MORE SHIKAKO DC CROSSOVERS😭😭

Anyways lemme know what u think

[forestshadow-wolf]

Headcanon time!!! [I'm actually projecting!!!]

Everyones' got their gimmick for dealing with stress and anger. Ghost hit the gym, gaz found someone to talk to, price did.. god knows what with nik, and soap...

Soap didn't really know. Not anymore anyway. Not after being told "you can't keep running from all your problems" time after time. He'd trained it out of himself long ago, forced himself to learn how to root himself to one spot.

He supposed he could consider filling page after page of his journal could be considered an outlet. But it just never worked the same. Or at all. Only serving to let him stew in his own thoughts. Allowed all that reckless energy bleed into sleepless night instead of mile of track.

He's tried talking. His parents tried to get him to talk through his feelings. But it never felt right to him. It made him clam up. He had to force words through his teeth, and it made tears of frustration spring to his eyes, which only served to make him madder.

One small tick in a nice moment could set him on edge for days. And it's not like he didn't know it was irrational. He did his best to tamp it down, and put on the happy smile. And for the most part it worked... for the most part. On the days it didn't he'd seclude himself to more solitary tasks, actively avoid as many people as possible to avoid snapping at some poor undeserving soul.

Sometimes when they came back to base after an unsuccessful mission that left everyone exhausted and frustrated, they'd all spit up. He knew ghost would likely be found in the gym, but he also knew ghost like his own time to work off his anger. Gaz would be hangout with price in his office or commandeering some other poor sod. If price wasn't with gaz he was probably with nik, doing stuff soap didn't even want to think about.

Instead soap usually locked himself in his room for the rest of the day, foregoing meals if it was being served, in favor of nibbling on protein bars (not that he had much of an appetite usually). One time he actually had run off. He'd been exceptionally mad that time (about what? He can't remember) but he'd purposely left his devices in his room, and ghost had had to find him for either a debrief or a meeting on an upcoming mission. Sure it helped a hell of a lot more that sitting in his room did, but delaying a meeting for two and a half hours was a hell of a lot more inconvenient for everyone else. So instead he sat and he drew and he stewed.

Ghost has definitely caught onto soap's behavior. It worries him. He knows what it's like to not have an outlet, for years he himself didn't have one, and it's not healthy.

On one of the days where soap makes himself scarce ghost seeks him out. Finds him doing the boringest of jobs- restocking empty mags, counting inventory- he can tell its not helping. He drags soap out, takes him to the gym with him, sets him to work. Soap is drawn to the treadmills, hops on, starts it up. But it isn't the same. And ghost can see that even that's not working.

It takes more than a few of those days to figure out what soap really needs- for ghost and soap. It's not just the working or the movement or the release of energy. It's everything and it's the changes in scenery and terrain. It works his mind and his muscles and gets him fresh air. It gets him away.

Eventually, with ghost's help, he learns to deal with is stress. It's not uncommon to see him lapping the track, or unning the obstacle course. On certain bad days ghost will take him out to the wooded area, they'll run trails through it, he developed a habit for climbing the trees oddly enough (or maybe it's not so odd seeing as how ghost found him up a tree that first time). He still leaves his devices in his room, which is why ghost follows... and to keep him company, he doesn't mind the workout either. And soap seems to enjoy his presence

This got way out of hand and went in a different direction that I thought it would??

[7ndipity]

Latibule

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: After someone close to you breaks your trust yet again, you go to your safe place, Joon.

Warnings: angst, swearing, implied toxic relationship/home life, not proofread

A/N: I wrote this like a month ago when I needed to vent, but I thought some of y'all might appreciate it, so I'll share it here. I almost feel like it could be the start of a series, but idk, lmk what you think?(Also, I tried to leave the 'they' in question vague, so it could be an ex, family, friend or whatever you prefer.)

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Joon being wide awake at three in the morning was far from out of the ordinary, he'd often said that he did some of his best work at night, having passed more than his fair share of sleepless nights writing.

You however, were usually long dead to the world at this hour, which is why when his phone screen lit up with your name, he was quick to answer.

"Hey y/n."

"Joon?" The shake in your voice instantly put made him sit up straighter, concerned.

"What happened?"

"Can... can I come over?" You asked.

"Of course." He said, without hesitation. "Are you okay? Do you need me to get you?"

"I'm fine." You said, but he knew that wasn't fully true, it was clear you'd been crying. "I just don't want to stay here tonight."

"Come over. Do you want me to set up our usuals?" He asked.

"Sure." You responded.

Over the course of your friendship, you two had developed a near ritual of whenever one of you was upset, you'd go over to the other's place to talk, usually over some sort of drinks.

You couldn't count how many nights you'd spent camped out on each other's sofas, or sometimes beds, ranting about everything from shitty ex's, family or work problems, or even just that one neighbor who never waved back at you. It didn't necessarily fix any of the issues, but it was comforting nonetheless to have someone who would lend a sympathetic ear or a shoulder to cry on.

He could tell whatever happened must have been bad. Normally, when you called, you would already be giving him the rundown of whatever had happened, so your quietness on the other end of the phone was more than a little worrying.

You showed up not long after, your sweats and oversized hoodie making you seem even smaller to him than normally.

Skipping over any greeting, he immediately pulled you into a tight, protective hug.

"What happened?" He asked again, but you just shook your head.

"Not yet." You mumbled, trying to soak in his soothing warmth. It was remarkable how easily the simple gesture from him never failed to give you such a sense of comfort and safety.

Once you finally separated, he quickly got you situated on the couch with your drinks, waiting patiently for you to begin.

"They lied, again." You said, staring at the floor as you spoke. "I thought things were getting better. I thought we were getting past it, but they fucking lied, right to my face."

The grip on his glass tightened as he listened to you explain, his long simmering anger and frustration at your situation rising to a boil.

"Fuck 'em." He said suddenly.

You looked up at him in surprise.

"I mean it," he said seriously. "You've put up with this shit for long enough. If they can't even have the basic decency to be honest with you, after everything that's happened, then fuck 'em. You deserve so much better than that, than them."

Caught off guard by the intensity of his words, you were hit with a sudden wave of emotion, trying desperately to blink back tears but failing.

"Shit, I'm sorry! Please don't cry." He apologized, frantically scrambling over to pull you into another hug.

"Why are you always so nice to me?" You sniffled.

He looked at you for a moment, unsure of how to answer other than the simple truth. "Because it's what you deserve."

You sat together for a while until your tears ceased and he noticed you drooping on his shoulder and suggested going to bed, waiting till he felt your breaths even out next to him before drifting off as well.

You woke in the morning to the loud clang of cookware and quiet curses.

"Joon?" You called groggily, finding him milling about the kitchen, looking slightly frazzled.

"Sorry babe, did I wake you?" He asked.

"Nah, it's fine." You said, ignoring the term of endearment he reserved for the nights you you stayed over. "What are you doing?"

"Making breakfast, or at least trying to." He said, stirring a pan of eggs uncertainly.

"Here, let me." You offered, taking over as he watched.

"So, um, I was thinking..." He said, trailing off uncertainly.

"Hmm?" You hummed.

"What if you just... stayed here?" He asked nervously. "At least for a little bit?"

You looked up in surprise. "Here?"

"Yeah, I mean, if you want to." He said, fiddling with his sleeves awkwardly. "It's nice having you around, and you're here all the time anyway and I...

"I don't want you to go back there." He said quietly. "They're not good for you, so I thought maybe you could just... be here?"

Slowly, you nodded. "I think I'd like that."

He smiled, relieved. "Good."

[catzcasz]

Thinking about the current situation with Cellbit and Roier (cubito)

Both characters are screwed, both have their traumas, but they both love each other so much…

It is very sad to know that Cellbit is not able to understand that Roier really loves him so much. Cellbit said that he is afraid… and that he just wants Roier to be happy, that he doesn't believe that Roier will be happy where he is (Purgatory) and the way he is now. He really believes that Roier can move on, forget him, and be happy…

Why? Well, because for Cellbit it seems impossible for someone to love him as much as Roier do… although Roier has told him several times, in his head no one has ever loved him like that (he doesn't remember love in his past, only war and betrayal)… In addition, his mental state is now also affected by "Richas' death", he and Baghera really believe that the eggs died and wish they had died with them… (Funny because Roier also wanted to die when he lost Bobby).

On the other hand, I am so sad for Roier… Roier who has traumas about the people he loves betraying him or leaving him alone… When Roier returned "alone" to Quesadilla Isla (because his whole family: Cellbit, Foolish, and Jaiden did not make it on time) I can't imagine how horrible it was for him, literally those days he probably went through so many thoughts in his head.

He told Pepito that Cellbit left him, other times he said that Cellbit died and then he told Leo and Richas that he was working on something and had a plan, he literally went through many types of thoughts /stages all those sleepless nights in Quesadilla…

Let's remember that (in canon) Roier has been blamed every time someone he loves leaves, some people told him that the betrayal was his fault, and told him that Bobby's death was his fault, I can imagine that at some point too He questioned and blamed himself for Cellbit not getting on the ship on time… I also imagine that at some point he thought that Cellbit decided to leave him, they are just intrusive thoughts caused by his trauma, but surely weighed on his soul even though he later discarded them. But…from what we saw, in the end, Roier did believe that Cellbit was alive and wanted to look for him (until he was kidnapped).

In that sense Roier and Cellbit are very similar, they both love each other very much but have thoughts (caused by their traumas) that can affect what they say or do at certain times.

I'm really afraid of what happens these days in the "Roier cintas" and I'm afraid when Cellbit returns to Quesadilla Island (I imagine he will at some point)

I'm sure Cellbit will feel anger and want to tear apart those who hurt Roier, but he also probably will blame himself and want to tear himself apart for leaving him alone... I'm afraid of how Roier will react (and I don't mean that he might hit Cellbit with his flip-flop xd / scream / hug or talk deeply about this situation) I mean that until we finish Roier's lore we won't understand if the Federation really did it something to him that can affect their relationship (like erasing his memory or who knows what)…

There are still many things in this arc that can affect what will happen between them in the future, kinda scared, although I trust that at the end of the day, love wins.

[uriekukistan]

this may sound a bit silly but i wanted to share it here because idk where else to 🥲

i was thinking about yuuji, during the one month time skip, remembering megumi telling him stuff about the stars and constellations (since he seems to know a lot). so i was like "i wonder when pisces' constellation is best seen" bc i think megumi would tell yuuji abt his sign's constellation, and apparently in the northern hemisphere it's best seen in november :') so now i imagine yuuji looking up at the stars every night and searching for his own constellation, trying to remember megumi's words on how to find it

omg no not silly i think abt them stargazing together all the time :') although i've never thought abt yuuji going on his own after...yeah T_T

like i imagine both of them would have a lot of sleepless nights because they've both seen/been through so much. megumi would have started doing it occasionally after tsumiki went into her coma to feel closer to her, since she was the one who taught him about stars :') but after yuuji "dies" at the detention center, he starts going more frequently. there's more light pollution than when he was in saitama, even on the outskirts of the city, but he still goes, naming as many constellations as he can remember. sometimes he'll look up and wonder if yuuji is staring back at him, even though he doesn't really believe in that sort of thing.

when yuuji comes back, megumi keeps going out at night to watch the stars because he can't seem to erase the image of yuuji face planting into the pavement, even when he's living and breathing right in front of him. then one night, he notices there's a light on in yuuji's room when he's heading out. he knows yuuji's seemed a bit tired recently, and wonders if he's been struggling with the same troubles sleeping, so he invites yuuji out with him.

it becomes a near nightly tradition. when it reaches late october and the air is growing colder, yuuji starts bringing a blanket from his bed and a thermos of tea -- ginger, of course -- because megumi gets cold easily, even though he'll never admit it. megumi points out all the constellations and yuuji listens. he only occasionally brings up aliens, and megumi pretends to be annoyed, but secretly enjoys those conversations. okay, but would you do you if you met an alien, fushiguro?...itadori, i dont- i guess i'd probably try to establish its intentions? that way when the full invasion comes, i'm prepared...that makes sense. you're always so smart, fushiguro.

after megumi's been taken, yuuji keeps going. every night, sometimes all night. choso's worried and wants to go with him to make sure he's okay, which is such a stupid question when he thinks about it, because why would yuuji be okay after all of that? but he doesn't go, no one does, not because they don't care, but because they understand. that's yuuji's alone time with megumi, reconnecting with him through the stars, the same way megumi used to with tsumiki.

hm i think i got carried away here TT_TT i just love and miss them so much, i need to think about those soft moments between them before everything truly went to shit kdfjghlkg

thank u for the ask!!

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS *  assorted dialogue from the 2003 film, adjust as necessary

you can't lose something you never had.

what other girlfriends?

i want you to respect me.

hey, what's wrong?

you see, the key to this game is being able to read people.

so tell me how long have you guys been seeing each other?

you know what? you did your job.

you are the first girl he ever brought home.

uh, she's not here.

oh, you are never going to pull this off.

i respect you for respecting me.

do you have an ethical problem with rifling through a woman's purse?

watch me.

you're up, you're down, you're here, you're there, you're like a frickin' one woman circus.

you're not going to burn his apartment down or bite him or anything?

is that too soon to be seeing a therapist?

i'll be clingy, needy...

i was just a girl somebody picked out in a bar.

our love fern! you let it die!

what's wrong with that?

i don't think i can be with someone who doesn't like animals.

i can't eat in front of you! i have to go to the bathroom.

yeah, you know what? big deal.

he's inviting me over to his house for dinner.

it's a woman's purse, all right? it's her secret source of power.

you wanted to lose a guy in ten days? congratulations. you did it.

true or false: all's fair in love and war.

so that's what i was, huh? i was a guinea pig. somebody you can test your theories on?

i've got a feeling about this one.

like... do blondes really have more fun?

that's what i'm talking about.

no honey, it's just sleeping.

ooh, call him in the middle of the night and tell him everything you had to eat that day.

why this place?

it's like a week.

look who made the trip with me!

i love you... but i don't have to like you right now.

you're already falling in love with me.

now you can even use it as a little twist in your story.

there are many dark and dangerous things in there that we, the male species, should know nothing about.

look, just give me back the necklace. then you guys can go on and kill each other.

it looks like the inside of a raincoat.

that's a good idea. maybe we should bet on it.

i'm gonna make you wish you were dead.

you gotta name it something hyper masculine, okay?

is she on to something?

in that case, i better get going. take care of our love fern, honey.

i can't eat in front of him!

nothing. it's beautiful. you're beautiful.

she's got an interview in washington.

you're not a therapist, are you?

you know what, due to intense humiliation, the king has momentarily abdicated his throne, okay?

you owe me three hundred bucks.

don't you break his heart now.

tone-deaf and drunk is not a good combination.

it's our love fern!

c'mon, blow. nobody likes a mr. sniffles.

look look look, wait a minute.

you have to take it away before i gag.

have you looked inside?

now, i'm going to go back inside and finish watching "sleepless in seattle." nobody screw with me.

i'm taking this love fern with me!

we got a whole bunch of work we have to do, but we're still on for poker at your house this weekend?

why do they always forget my bacon?

when are you seeing him again?