#its always comforting when i somehow can get a message from them even when its rare

[ariichive]

MALFUNCTIONᯓ ⋆°•

moving in with caleb was bound to have its ups and downs... but did he have to modify everything in his home to keep track of you? cw: fem. reader, caleb being overprotective and borderline insane, lowkey stalking, cameras, established relationship, reader can be mc or not, #ilovecaleb, mullet caleb yummy, wrote this listening to my 2020 playlist...

everything in caleb's space was so very... you. the foods in the fridge, the furniture, the tidiness of it all. there was so much of you, and it was quickly becoming a safe haven.

it seemed everything caleb owned was carefully picked out with your interests and not his.

you remember asking him about it, if he was truly okay with you taking over his space like this; especially since you never spent a dime while with him.

his answer still fresh in your mind.

"trust me honey, this is all i've ever wanted." he said with a sincere smile and a pat to your head, "besides, there's still a lot of me around, you just gotta find it."

back then, you weren't sure what he meant exactly and seen it as a way of him comforting you.

now, however, as the microwave locked your frozen dinner in there you realized what he meant.

caleb always cooked for you, he knew your desired calorie intake, allergies, and all the foods you didn't like.

you never had to lift a finger in the kitchen when he was around, because he had already taken care of everything before you even had the chance to think about it.

but now, standing in the quiet hum of the microwave, the absence of his presence was deafening. he was on a rather long mission with the fleet. he did prepackage all your meals, labeled and all, but admittedly... being bored with nothing to do except eat made the meals go quicker than expected. surprisingly, there was a frozen pasta dinner shoved in the back of the freezer. it wasn't the most ideal, but it was the best you could do without your personal chef and boyfriend.

it was a little embarrassing how dependent you became on him. you knew if he were here, he'd kiss your head and tell you he'll make those nasty thoughts go away.

there were still traces of him all around you, in the way the spice rack was arranged just so, the way the couch cushions bore the slightest indent from where he always sat, and even the basket of apples on the counter.

you sighed, leaning against the counter as the microwave beeped, signaling your sad little dinner was ready.

there was a small problem though.

the microwave wasn't opening.

no matter how much strength you used, the door just wasn't opening. you felt your eyebrow twitch; did you somehow manage to break his microwave? there was no way; sure, you relied on him a bit, but you definitely remembered the basics in the kitchen.

before you could get more frustrated, your phone dinged.

caleb <3: where did u even find that lol? thought i threw those all out :,)

you stared at your phone in deadpan before glancing back at the microwave, quickly texting back.

[name]: how did you even...?

caleb <3: baby, i got eyes everywhere

you huffed, shaking your head. of course he somehow knew you were about to eat the one frozen dinner he swore he got rid of.

[name]: okay, stalker. but actually, i think ur microwave is broken??? it won’t open.

the typing bubble appeared instantly.

caleb <3: yeah, ik... had some free time, messed around with a few things :p

another message came through right after.

caleb <3: say, what happened to the meals i prepared for you?

then another...

caleb <3: did you not like them? let me know so i know for the future if your tastes changed, sorry pretty girl

you were quick to type out a response, seeing as his typing bubble didn't disappear.

[name]: no!! i loved them all, just... they're gone :(

the message was marked as read immediately as he your phone began to ring.

you sighed, but your lips curled into a small smile as you answered.

“hi, caleb.”

“hi,” he echoed, his voice warm despite the slight scolding tone. “now, tell me, honey—how are they already gone? i made sure they’d last until i got back.”

you pouted, sinking further into the couch. “i got bored… and they were really good.”

caleb chuckled, and you could just picture the way he’d be shaking his head if he were here. “i swear, you’re gonna make me start rationing your meals.”

“you wouldn’t.”

“would i?”

you frowned. “…would you?”

his laugh came through the speaker, low and sweet. “nah, i could never say no to you. but seriously, baby, if you need more food, i'll order something. don’t go eating those frozen meals, they’re so bad for you.”

“it’s just one,” you mumbled.

“still. i don’t like the thought of you eating that while i’m gone.”

you sighed, tugging at the microwave one more time. “well, maybe if you weren’t so far away…”

“aw, do you miss me, pretty girl?”

you refused to answer that; he already knew the answer.

caleb hummed. “yeah… i miss you too.”

his voice was softer now, and your chest ached at how much you just wanted him here.

“i’ll be back soon,” he promised. “then i’ll make you something actually edible, alright?”

you smiled. “alright.”

“good girl.”

you felt your cheeks heat up, and caleb laughed again, as if he knew. (which he did).

“love you, honey.”

“love you too,” you murmured, holding the phone a little tighter. "why exactly is the microwave locked?" you decided to question one more time.

caleb chuckled, "i know you, [name]. even if i wasn't watching you, you'd open it and still eat the pasta. better to take... precautionary measures for my pipsqueak. did you even check the expiration date?"

ignoring his question, you did a quick lookover of the room, looking for the camera he had somewhere as he only laughed. "maybe instead of looking for the cameras, find what else i modified in the house, it'll keep you occupied. i'll order you food in the meantime."

you groaned, flopping back against the couch. “caleb, i swear, if you messed with anything else—”

“if? honey, i definitely did.”

your eyes narrowed. “like what?”

“mmm, can’t say. that’d ruin the fun, wouldn’t it?”

you let out a dramatic sigh. “you are a menace.”

“and you love me for it.”

unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong.

you stood up, glancing around the apartment, suddenly suspicious of everything. you had no idea when he found the time to do all this, but knowing caleb, he planned ahead weeks in advance, just for moments like these.

the phone call was cut short as commotion started on his mission, leading you to sadly have to hang up.

you sighed, setting your phone down and eyeing the apartment with renewed suspicion.

as if on cue, you heard a soft click.

you turned your head slowly.

the front door.

more specifically, the new deadbolt that you definitely hadn’t installed.

your stomach dropped. oh, no.

another quick text from caleb.

caleb <3: your food is outside, i unlocked the door for you to grab it <3 be quick.

you did as he said, quickly grabbing the food delivery from outside, the door locking as soon as you got back in.

[name]: caleb. why is the door locked from the outside?

it took him a moment to reply, likely caught up with work, but when his name finally popped up on your screen, you already knew you wouldn’t like his answer.

caleb <3: oh, that? safety measures, honey. u can unlock it, but only through the app i installed on ur phone :)

you blinked. what app?

as soon as you asked, a new icon appeared on your screen—a sleek little security app with a familiar-looking otto icon.

caleb <3: just in case u ever get any funny ideas about leaving late at night alone.

your jaw dropped.

[name]: caleb. you remote locked me inside our home.

caleb <3: our very safe home! where nothing bad can happen to u!! :D i'll text u when i get to safety, enjoy ur food pipsqueak!

i love caleb btw

[moonstruckme]

hello my sweet gorgeous mae!!

how we feeling abt a fic where reader has some difficulty regulating her emotions when she’s upset and just some casual poly!wolfstar dominance. girl honestly just needs a hug and someone to validate her feelings tbh

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!! I did give her a reason for her upset which in retrospect I probably should have just left vague but I hope it doesn't take you out of it and if anyone knows anything that makes them think this relates to me in any way no it literally doesn't why would you think that

cw: somewhat subtle/implicit d/s dynamics (really just a couple joking mentions of "rules" or "bans")

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re grateful to come home to an empty apartment. No sooner does the door shut behind you than the sob that’s been building in your chest jostles its way out. You hug your bag to your front and go to the floor, crying. 

You don’t hold back. You let tears flow down your cheeks and take short, jagged breaths to fuel even more, curling your knees towards your chest and pushing your fingertips into your forehead. 

Your heartbeat is loud enough in your ears that it takes you a second to register the sound of footsteps on the stairs, but you notice when they pick up their pace as they draw closer. Not, evidently, so empty an apartment after all. 

“Dovey.” Remus sounds gutted. You open your eyes, and he looks it, too. Sirius comes up behind him, both of their forms blurring as they crouch in front of you. “What happened?” 

You shake your head. “I—I didn’t—” You’re crying like a child, all choked sobs and snivelly voice. “I didn’t—”

“Shh, that’s okay.” Sirius takes your face in his hands. His hold is firm but his thumbs gentle as they brush over your cheeks. “Just nod yes or no for me, my love. Are you hurt?” 

You shake your head. 

Some of the worry eases from his features, but his brows pinch sympathetically. “Just sad?” 

You open your mouth to answer him, and a hiccup of sobs spills out. 

Sirius makes a pained sound and pulls you to him. Remus murmurs, “Oh, sweetheart.” 

You try to speak again into the material of Sirius’ shirt, to apologize for coming home like this, but both boys shush you, Sirius rubbing your back while Remus gives your arm a squeeze and leans over to kiss your head. 

Remus takes your shoes off for you, and Sirius helps him ease your bag off your shoulder without ever really loosening his hold on you. They move you to the couch. Your boyfriends work in quiet harmony, one always comforting you while the other takes measures to make you more practically comfortable. 

“Dove, listen to me,” Remus says after a while. “You’re going to make yourself sick. Take a deep breath.” 

You try, inhaling only for it to come jerking back out of you on another sob. “I can’t.” 

“You can.” Sirius rubs your back. “Keep trying, baby.” 

They talk you through deep breaths for a while, until you start to calm and it’s only Sirius’ voice in your ear, low and reassuring while Remus goes to get something from the kitchen. 

He passes you a cold glass of water when he gets back, while Sirius is scraping damp pieces of hair back from your face. Presses it into your hands. 

You sniffle. “I’m not really thirsty.” 

“You’re going to be dehydrated after all that. You don’t have to drink it all at once,” he says, and the message is clear: but you do have to drink it. “Take your time if you need to.” 

You take a shaky breath, bringing the glass to your lips. 

“There you go.” Sirius kisses your cheek. You love and hate when they gang up on you like this. You’re between them on the couch, quite literally the center of attention. It’s both comforting and overwhelming. “Now, are you ready to say what’s wound you up so badly?” 

You swallow, nodding. “Sorry,” you say, and you still sound congested, “I didn’t think anyone was home.” 

Sirius tsks. “You know the s word is banned.” He somehow manages to strike a tone that’s both loving and stern. “You don’t get to start bending the rules because you’ve had a bad day.” 

“You shouldn’t feel like you can’t cry when we’re here, either, sweetheart,” Remus adds. 

“Probably wouldn’t have made such a spectacle of it, though.” You attempt a feeble smile. Neither boy looks amused. “It was only that I got my rejection from the Lunds job.” 

“Oh.” Remus' face creases with sympathy. He rubs your thigh. “You really wanted that one, yeah?” 

You shrug, but tears fill your eyes again against your will, dribbling down your cheeks. “I thought I had a good feeling about that one,” you whisper. Sirius starts stroking between your shoulder blades again. “It was stupid.” 

“I’m beginning to think we should ban every s word,” Sirius mutters. There’s no bite to it, though, and when you crack a smile he kisses underneath your ear. “It wasn’t stupid, baby. You were excited about it.” 

Remus’ voice is a low hum. “It’s not just about this one job, though, is it?” 

You look at him, tasting salt in the seam of your lips. 

“You’ve been anxious about all this for a long while,” he says, thumb moving over your knee in a slow, soothing back-and-forth. “I think you put all your stock into this one, and now it’s caught up to you, but this was never the only one that mattered. You can still find a job somewhere else.” 

“I just…” You draw in a breath, trying to steady yourself. “I thought I was so perfect for this one. If they didn’t want me” —your voice wavers— “how can I expect to ever get one?” 

“Angel, I love you, and you know I think you’re a genius ahead of your time,” says Sirius, “but that is some very shoddy reasoning. You’ve no idea who else applied. They might’ve had fucking superman in their stack of applications, and you could’ve been their second choice. That’s not going to happen every time.” 

“But it is still,” Remus tells you, taking your hand in his, “very hard to feel like you weren’t good enough. I’m sure all you’ve been putting in without getting results weighs on you, yeah?” 

You bite down hard on your lower lip to keep from bursting into tears again. Somehow Remus always knows how to get to the heart of the issue. 

“Yeah,” you say softly. 

“Oh, I know, sweet girl.” He pulls you into his side, kissing your head. “You’ve worked so hard. But it’ll all pay off in the end, alright? What’s say we have a break for tonight. No more applications, just relaxing.” 

“Yeah,” Sirius agrees for you. “After a good cry like that, I think a film and some cuddles are in order.” 

“These aren’t already cuddles?” you joke wetly. 

He makes an offended squawking noise. “Not proper ones. Get your cozies on and let Rem make us a hot cocoa, babydoll, and then we’ll remind you what real cuddles are like.”

[violetseaslug]

Haii!! your writing is amazing :> Can you please do a Se-mi × fem!reader au wherein se-mi survives the game and comes back 3 months later to find her gf in a hospital because she hasn't been eating nor sleeping well because se-mi went missing without letting anyone know about her whereabouts. Please make it angst with comfort in the end hwehe [im bouncing off the walls iluv se-mi sm ^°^]

thankuthanku :>

fem!reader x se-mi, post squid game

tw: brief mention of fainting, basic description of a hospital, angst (with comfort),

an: my reqs r open! thank you so much for the request u super duper cool person :P i hope you like it and this is what you wanted/it's up to ur standards 💐 and as always guys i miss mei <\3 shes not answering my messages so i MIGHT jump her but its ok i love her🌹 i also did NOT know what to name this so 💔💔

₊˚⊹⁠♡————— ⁠♡ —————♡⊹⁠˚₊

Se-mi had no idea what she was getting into when she called the number on the back of that stupid card. At the time, it felt like the only choice—like fate had handed her an opportunity she couldn’t refuse. But now, standing in the aftermath, battered and bruised, her body in agony, she regretted it more than anything because now she was here. Alone and Fighting for her life.

Her only motivation was you.

She clung to the thought of your embrace, the way your arms had always fit so perfectly around her, as if they were made to hold her together. She longed for the sound of your laughter, the way it could brighten everyday. But most of all, she just wanted to see you again.

Each day in the games had been an agonizing battle, stretching out endlessly.

She had survived, though. Barely. Every victory came at a price—a price paid in tears and blood. At night, when the lights dimmed, she curled up, willing herself not to cry. But the tears always came.

She had won. She had survived. But at what cost?

Now, stumbling down an unfamiliar street, she barely recognized herself. Deep cuts lined her arms, her clothes were torn, and exhaustion was written all over her face. She was only half-aware of the people passing by, their eyes flickering over her before quickly looking away, as if afraid to acknowledge her.

And then—someone touched her.

A steady arm wrapped around her shoulders, another gripping her waist, keeping her upright.

"Hey, be careful," a voice said gently.

Se-mi flinched, instinctively trying to push away, but her strength failed her.

"Let me go," she rasped, her throat raw from dehydration and crying.

"I work at the nearby hospital," the woman assured her. "You need snitches. It’ll take less than two hours, and then you can be on your way."

Se-mi wanted to refuse, to keep walking, to somehow will herself straight into your arms. But her vision was already fading at the edges, her body swaying uncontrollably. She barely felt it when she collapsed into the woman’s arms, her world stopping.

Bright lights, the stiff feel of a hospital bed beneath her, the smell of sanitizer and latex gloves.

Se-mi woke up with a sudden gasp, panic settling in. Her mind was chanting "no," as she realized she couldn’t be here. She needed to leave so she could continue trying to find you.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she realized how hopeless her situation was. No money. No transport. No way of knowing where you were, or if you had moved, or if you were even still waiting for her.

The truth was suffocating. Without you, she was nothing.

A quiet knock at the door pulled her from her spiraling thoughts. She barely noticed the nurses stepping inside, their eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place.

One of them lowered her face mask and spoke.

“We apologize for the intrusion, but we think we understand your predicament here.”

Se-mi let out a laugh, wiping at her tear-streaked face. “No,” she whispered, voice trembling. “I’m afraid you don’t.”

A smile crept onto the nurse’s face. For a split second, Se-mi felt anger rise in her chest. What kind of nurse smiled this way at someone who's so clearly vulnerable? But then she saw it.

The reason behind the smile.

Because behind the nurse, being wheeled into the room in a chair, was you.

Her breath caught in her throat. For a moment, the world stopped.

Se-mi ignored the wobble in her legs, the way her body screamed in protest, and stumbled toward you. She cupped your face with shaking hands, her tears falling harder now, hot and relentless, pouring down as her emotions ovetook her.

“baby, I’m so sorry. please—i won’t ever leave you again, i swear. i don’t know what i was thinking, i—please, baby, forgive me. i promise—”

Her desperate words were cut off as your lips pressed against hers.

The kiss was soft, reassuring. You tasted like home.

When you pulled away, your forehead rested against hers, your fingers gently brushing against her tear-stained skin.

“I’m just glad to have you back, my love,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I was so worried. I barely ate, barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined you knocking on the door, and I was terrified I wouldn’t be there to answer. I thought I lost you. These lovely nurses haven't left my side since I told them the reason I was here, they recognized you from all of the times i had described your pretty face. They said they would keep an eye out and here you are."

Se-mi let out a broken sob, her fingers curling around your shirt like you might disappear if she let go.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” she whimpered. “I’m here now. i promise. Nothing will hurt you.”

Your hand held the back of her head as you whispered, “Your soul is my blessing.”

And as you kissed her again, slowly, deeply, Se-mi knew she was finally home.

[knavesflames]

hiii el! :D u may know me from ur messages a bit ago (PLS I SUCK AT USING TECHNOLOGY AND I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO ASK A QUESTION) but i wanted to ask for u to write maybe just some like cute morning arle fluff? sorry if it’s a bad ask 😞

also, could i be 🩵 anon?

Hi <3 of course you can! It is NOT a bad ask, I’ve been meaning to write a lil bit of fluff anyway. I was quite excited to write this :’) enjoy!!

Content: fluff, arlecchino is soft and tired

Word count: 1.1k

Utc <3

People say that once you get used to sleeping next to someone, it becomes impossible to sleep alone. You thought it would be the opposite. You enjoyed sleeping alone, preferred it, even. You like the space to move and roll around and you like to wrap the blankets around you to form you into a burrito-like shape. It became somewhat of a joke between friends that when you finally did find a partner, you’d end up sleeping in separate beds. Secretly, you agreed.

For Arlecchino, nobody assumed she’d even find a partner. The woman is so closed off with her feelings that one wonders if she even had any, if they died along with her best friend and Mother so many years ago. When the topic of relationships was brought up (seldom as it was to even get past the first two sentences- she would shut it down before anyone could get anything out of her), her excuses were dismissive, claims of work taking precedence over any interpersonal relationships, claims of the not-so-secret but somehow very-secret project the Fatui are working on, and her biggest excuse yet- the children. “The children need a stable figure to guide them as they grow. Relationships are most definitely not stable. It does not teach them how to fight. Sorrow and anger make you weak, yes, but I would argue that love makes you defenceless.” would be a sentence she uttered often.

Of course, that was not the only reason. Processing what had happened to the people close to her is something she neglected to do, and she does not need to be haunted further by yet another shadow, or even worse, another conscious body following her around the way Clervie had, whether as a manifestation of her bloodfire, or a manifestation of her conscience rearing its head when she had worked so hard to pretend it doesn’t exist. Love is not something she should get herself involved in, she has told herself time and time again. She has stared into the mirror an endless number of times, both as a newly appointed Father and more recently, when she finds herself alone. Her priority has always been the children, and she refused herself the privilege of living comfortably. Until you, obviously.

When you first began sleeping next to each other, you had been dating for a while. It took a while for her to even let you into her house. You seem to notice that her house has the faint smell of citrus. Lime, perhaps. You wonder where it comes from, but you assume it's some sort of air freshener. When you first began occasionally sleeping over, her touches were few and far between. Not in any malicious way, of course, but almost like she was restraining herself. You were too, in a way, not wanting to overstep any silent boundaries she had set. It was an awkward time.

Now, though, after a long period of time of getting her to open up, she clings to you like a moth to a flame. Case in point, this morning. You wake up to the soft light entering your room, filtered by the curtains covering the glass. The first thing you notice other than the light is a pair of strong, muscular arms wrapped around your middle, clutching you and keeping you close. You let your hand gently move across the marred skin, feeling each scar and muscle of the arm holding you so tightly. A face is buried into the back of your neck, gentle breath tickling the skin, and displacing the hair there. Arlecchino’s body is warm, warmer than the normal person's body would be due to the balefire that courses through her veins. You try (and fail) to escape from her grasp with a little wriggle, but her arms only pull you closer, her voice coming out hoarse and gravelly.

“Stay,” she mumbles into your hair. “It’s early. There isn’t a need to get ready for the day yet.”

“I have to, there’s so much to do today.” you yawn, twisting your body to face her. Your arms snake around her, one under her neck and one around her waist. There’s sleepiness in her dark eyes, and she looks up at you groggily. She looks vulnerable like this, and you think she’s almost smiling. Almost. She groans slightly as she stretches out, her muscles rippling as she does so. Arlecchino’s face buries back into you soon after, and her grip on you doesn’t loosen in the slightest. One of your hands comes to gently caress the waterfall of snow white hair, occasionally painted with black streaks (and the one red one she touches up every six weeks), massaging the scalp and gently scratching whenever she lets out a soft sigh.

“You smell good.”

“I just woke up, I’m not sure there’s much to smell.”

“That may be the point. You do not need to put on any fragrance, I enjoy the scent of you. Just you.”

“You say, as if you don’t fill your home with the scent of limes. Limes, of all things.”

“That is not what we are conversing about. We are conversing about you, not some citrus fruit.”

You can’t the small chuckle that seems to escape your lips. She’s so soft like this, you think, you can barely believe her status in the Fatui (you’d forget entirely if it wasn’t for the glint of the dagger placed deliberately on her nightstand. She says it’s for your protection- you know she had it there before, too, but now she has a reason to keep it there). Her nails, filed to perfection, trace circles on your back, and her free hand pulls your thigh over her hip, bringing you as close as you can possibly get.

“Must you go? Surely, you can push back any arrangements you have today and stay with me a little longer.”

“You know I can’t, and neither can you. Do you not have that meeting?”

“Yes. With some other Fatui, but none of them are worth my time when you’re here. They mean nothing to me. You mean everything.”

“That is why I'll be here tonight. You can hold me again.”

You find yourself reassuring her a lot that you won’t disappear. You don’t mind. Eventually, after five minutes of pretend bickering, you relent to ten more minutes before she drags herself out of bed. By the time she’s changed from her pyjamas into her usual suit, her hair brushed and pinned back into her signature ponytail, any trace of the sleepy, clingy Arlecchino is gone. What remains is a stoic, unreadable woman who lovingly kisses your forehead before she leaves, a slight plea in her voice when she tells you: “See you tonight.”

[writingforstraykids]

Letters Of Love - Chan🖤

Pairing: Chan x gn!Reader (poly!skz)

Word Count: 978

Summary: Your anniversary with your beloved boys makes you think of how to show them how much you love them best. Soon, you settle on sending them a message and picture in relation to one of your favorite days spent with them - starting with a sunset beach walk with Channie.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, poly!skz

A/N: Happy one year, guys🤭🥳🖤🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

You sit comfortably on the oversized sofa in the living room, your legs tucked beneath you as a soft throw blanket drapes over your shoulders. The house is quiet except for the soft hum of the evening outside. The warm, ambient light from a lamp nearby casts a golden glow on your laptop screen as you scroll through your photo library, smiling at the memories that flash before your eyes.

The idea had come to you a few days ago, sparked by a simple desire to celebrate the bond you share with each of the boys. With your anniversary around the corner, you wanted to do something meaningful—not grand or flashy, but something that speaks to the heart of what they all mean to you. So, you decided to put together a collection of messages, each paired with a favorite photo of yours. One for each of them.

It’s not just about celebrating the years spent together, but a way to show them how much every single moment counts—how deeply woven into your life they’ve become. It’s easy to get caught up in the whirlwind of life, schedules, and everything in between, but when you sit down and look back at these snapshots, the memories are filled with so much warmth that it almost makes you tear up.

Each picture carries its own story, a unique reminder of shared smiles, whispered conversations, and unexpected adventures. It feels like the perfect way to say, “I remember. I see you. And I treasure these moments more than words can say.”

Choosing where to start wasn’t easy, but in the end, you settled on Chan. Leader. Rock. One of your favorite people. The one who somehow always knows exactly how to make you feel heard and seen. Your eyes linger on one particular image that makes your heart flutter—a photograph of a breathtaking sunset on a secluded beach.

The sky is painted with vivid hues of orange, pink, and deep purple, casting a magical light across the gentle waves lapping at the shore. In the foreground, Chan is beside you, his broad smile lighting up the scene as much as the setting sun. He’s looking at the camera, but his body is slightly angled toward you, as if caught in a moment of joy, mid-laughter. His tousled hair frames his face, the salty breeze lifting it slightly, and his eyes crinkle warmly, filled with a playful energy and contentment. The two of you are barefoot, shoes forgotten somewhere in the sand, and you’re holding hands, your arm swinging lightly as if you’d just been spinning around together, giddy from the beauty of the evening and each other's presence.

You can almost hear the sound of his voice from that day—the way he kept pointing out how the colors of the sky matched your favorite shade of coral or how he’d sneakily race you to the water’s edge just to let the waves catch you by surprise. It was one of those spontaneous days, a perfect pocket of time when everything aligned, and all that mattered was the way the world seemed to slow down around the two of you.

The day had started unassumingly, with a casual suggestion from Chan to go for a drive after a long day of work. There had been no real destination in mind until you noticed the telltale sparkle of sunlight reflecting off the distant waves. Without a second thought, he turned the car toward the coast. When you arrived, the beach was nearly empty—just you, him, and the endless expanse of sand and sea. As the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky with the most brilliant shades, you both kicked off your shoes and wandered along the shoreline. You talked about everything and nothing—dreams, music, life, and silly inside jokes that had the two of you bursting into laughter.

As the colors deepened and the first stars peeked through, he pulled you close, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world didn’t exist. Just you, him, and the rhythm of the waves. It was then that he set up the camera timer, capturing that perfect image, your smiles forever frozen against the backdrop of the sun-kissed sky.

The smile on your lips softens as you relive the memory, fingers hovering over the keyboard. You take a deep breath and begin to type out a message for Chan, the words flowing easily from your heart. He’s someone who would understand the significance of this little project of yours—your way of saying, “I’m grateful. For you, for us, for all the tiny pieces that have come together to build this beautiful mosaic of memories.”

Message to Channie Baby🖤:

Hey Channie,

I came across this picture today, and it made me think of one of my favorite memories with you. Remember that sunset beach stroll? The way you just decided to take us there on a whim? I think that’s one of the things I love most about you—the way you turn ordinary moments into something unforgettable.

That evening, I remember feeling like everything was just… right. The world seemed quieter, softer, and it was like we had all the time in the world just to be ourselves. I know we’ve had so many amazing experiences together, but something about that day stands out to me. Maybe it’s because it felt so simple, just us, the ocean, and the sky. But it’s one of those moments that I’ll always cherish.

Thank you for always making life brighter, for your laughter and for the way you see beauty in everything. I’m so grateful to have you by my side—not just during sunsets, but every single day.

Happy anniversary, Channie. Here’s to many more sunsets together.

Love you, always.

Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@zehina @atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @theo4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @sapphirewaves @dis-trict9 @minh0scat @jinnie-ret @5starluvr @slutforchanlix

[movingthisblogcelestialtarot11]

astrology observations

Hi friends! Today we’re discussing power dynamics in relationships, so there is light mention of drug use, abuse, gaslighting and emotional abuse. Please do not read if you are uncomfortable! I kept it light as best as I could. Do leave feedback & comments to help! Id love to hear your thoughts <3

Moon in scorpio- Growing up, emotions were regarded as superficial or was never even acknowledged. Mental health did not exist in the natives family, or it was shunned upon. Very likely an authority figure tried to impose their rules and values onto the native, going as far to have the native, “become like me.” As a way to save their legacy, even though it meant suffocating the native’s individuality. Lots of power dynamics and imbalances, the authority figure projected insecurities and problems onto the native at a young age—expecting the native to be a therapist of some kind. Didn’t allow the native to have a childhood of safety, stability and comfort.

3rd house stellium/virgo asc—If you have both of these, one, or Mercury as your ruler your sibling/s are very important in your healing journey. Depending on the planets in your third house or its ruler, you will find what your siblings can hell you heal/work on in this lifetime. If you have Jupiter in the 3rd, it’s possible you could have older sibling/s who always protected you in bad times. Always stood up for you. Always spoke up for you. Always got you when you had a bad day. The love shared between you two is deep. If Jupiter is in scorpio, both of you dealt with a traumatic upbringing only you two understand so deeply. You both saw each other at your deepest.

Jupiter in scorpio 3h makes for a very strong sibling bond. If it is unafflicted, if aspecting venus, or conj. The bond it intensified even more. The sibling would always look out for the native and even get themselves in trouble for it.

If Jupiter is afflicted with Saturn or Pluto, the sibling relationship dynamic will change. Possibly the sibling could move away and go silent, or deal with severe mental health issues. There ends up being a separation between the siblings, a divide in their morals, values and beliefs.

Taurus rising with moon in the 1st house—Its so interesting to see how this quickly can change depending on where the house ruler is. One can look at this and think this makes for an eloquent, observant and emotional yet passive person. But if the house ruler lies in the 8th house which would be Venus, this changes the meaning entirely. The native is possessed with wisdom and hurt of their traumatic childhood. They often experience tumultuous shifts in their identity, because of their lack of safety in their childhood, they never formed who they were. It is hidden by layers of trauma. But with moon in the first house this native carries their wounds deeply and openly. In some way, their childhood is exposed to family or friends around them. It reveals the pain they went through deeply. It can give them a heavier, intense energy. Something like a void of pain and hurt. They may also have eyes that penetrate deep to the soul because of their power. That being said, these natives have the empowerment to heal themselves on a deep level. They do a lot of inner work and may join therapy for a while to really understand themselves in a safe environment.

Sun in the 9th house, aspecting pluto—The native can become controversial due to a “taboo,” topic in their community. Very likely the native is misunderstood for years regarding what they say, what their message is. Somehow people project their opinions, assumptions without thinking of it affects the native. The native may experience backlash, ignorance from the community, until years later a revelation or truth comes out. People come to find out exactly what the native had been preaching was not only right, but astounding for so long. Sun aspecting moon also gives the native a denser, heavier energy. People may think the native was being rude or brash with their words, but in reality the native is passionate, deliberate, and intelligent.

Sun in the 9h, asp pluto— can also make an individual popular for taboo reasons. Or “heavier,” means. Like speaking up on child trafficking, political issues, ethical issues, getting into forensic criminology, becoming a lawyer, becoming a motivational speaker to help abused victims. As a lawyer the native may also fight a case that either hurts or uplifts their career. That case is something everyone will remember then by.

Chiron in the 12th in Pisces—The native experiences total loss of safety, love and stability. Stripped bare of their identity and personality, it’s likely the native experience gaslighting or emotional abuse of some kind around family or friends. The native had dreams and goals that struggled to reach light because as the native was a child, they were too busy shouldering responsibilities. Too busy caring for individuals who kept hurting them, thinking it was love. Confusing love and abuse all the same. I love you my Chiron 12h 🤍

Saturn in the 12h- Oppressive, absent father figure. If there was a father figure, the father either one: slacked on being a father or two, was obsessive in training the child. Strict rules, strict values, a conservative way of living. The native felt misguided and cornered under the father figure, having high expectations dishes out constantly and never being able to live up to any of them, because they are simply human. Which the father figure fails to comprehend—the nature of the child. Saturn in the 12h denotes the father figure experiencing separation from the child multiple times either due to: jail, alcohol, drug possession, divorce, etc.

Jupiter aspecting mars in pisces—Jupiter aspecting mars can make a native dream of taking action for a long time. Towards their future, love life, career, etc. then one day it hits them that they are spending too much time waiting for it to unfold passively. So they make a change. An impulsive much needed change. They undergo a drastic change physically and mentally. People may talk for a long time about the natives’ choices and decisions, leaving behind a legacy.

Mars in the 11th house—Can make parents/friends/family/people ignorant to the natives abuse. People may often gaslight the native as if the native is simply confused about their experiences, leading to disempowerment of the native. People may try and romanticize what the native experienced as well—glossing over extremely important details. The native gets shoved around in childhood, one to the next, never experiencing true stability. Their stability might just be the time they spend alone.

Venus in the 8h—Experiencing loss through relationships. This could exist in so many forms, betrayal, death, separation, etc. The native may relate to it being, not just one relationship, but it’s most of their relationship in this lifetime that bring up patterns in childhood. The native just wants to feel safe and not crash and burn at every connection. May experience separation with a loved one, someone very close to them. The native asks themselves why this pattern of loss keeps happening in their lives. Where does it come from? Often, a parental figure more-so the mother figure. By understanding their relationship to their mother natives can understand how they learned to cope with unhealthy treatment from others and how its impacting their ability to experience meaningful relationships.

NN in the 12h in Aries—Natives with NN in the 12h often experience isolation whether in prison, at home in an abusive family—or being on their own financially. Isolation in some way or form. NN in aries in the 12h, if you pay attention to the rest of the chart it will describe what kind of trauma the native experienced. Someone with this placement possibly experienced isolation & was forced to grow up to be a better mentor. Better son. Better daughter. Better older siblings. But lacked the guidance on how to. They were left to fend for themselves and figure it out. If the native has a stellium in the 3rd house, its possible they were left to be the better older sibling and weren’t taught how to be better for themselves.

Mercury in Capricorn—Surprisingly a native can struggle with speaking or writing with this placement. Whether it be from having a speech impediment, mutism, etc. or they could have been bullied into believing their voice didn’t matter so they hardly share their feelings and thoughts. When they do people expect them to still play that robotic monotonous role—which hurts them even more. Much love to my cap mercs 🤍 eventually its why capricorn mercurys can go on to be poets or be expressive in art. Because they weren’t allowed normal ways to express their feelings.

At your first saturn return, you will experience a massive life change. Any major circumstance happening at that time will be amplified, because Saturn is showing you lessons regarding growth. Healing never truly ends regardless of our age. At the end of your saturn return you may find that whatever issue you were dealing with will resolve itself much better—regarding your inner work and healing.

Thank ya’ll for reading!! <3 sincerely appreciate any feedback or comments you can give. I hope you are all having a wonderful day/night!

Extra

Paid readings🤍

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

focus*

warnings: smut, spitting, choking, squirting, throat fucking, dumbification, dirty talk, degradation, slight daddy kink, facial(ish)

pairing: dad’s best friend harry x reader

summary: in which yn keeps eyeing harry’s arms and he puts them to good use

masterlist | taglist

~

yn’s bottom lip is tucked between her teeth as she sits on the couch next to harry, trying to keep her dirty thoughts at bay. but it’s so hard when he’s sat beside her, shirtless at that, as he types away on his computer, sending angry emails to his employees. yes it’s his day off, but it just seems that there is always something that comes up when he finally relaxes.

it’s not the emails that are turning her on, not at all. it’s the fact that with each message he types with annoyed grunts and mumbles falling from his lips, she can see his biceps just flexing with each movement. she can’t even focus on her phone that’s playing some sort of video on its screen because her eyes just keep flitting over to where he sits.

her thighs are practically sewn together as her mind races, from thoughts of those biceps next to her head as he pounds deep into her in missionary, to them wrapped around her neck.

oh.

that second thought is something she should’ve thought of a long time ago. she should’ve thought of him bending her over the kitchen table with his arm wrapped around her neck, her feet barely touching the floor as he wrecks her. that thought forces a moan from her lips before she can stop it, causing harry to stop in his tracks and turn to look at her.

his first thought is that she’s hurt somehow sitting next to him, and so he takes a moment to let his eyes trail over her body. one clean sweep and then he’s meeting her eyes with raised eyebrows as he recognizes that body language. the glued thighs, the blown pupils, and not to mention the swollen lips from all the chewing. she’s been caught.

closing his laptop, he places it on the coffee table before angling his body to be able to maintain eye contact comfortably. the silence is deafening, and she wants to crawl into a hole. “are you going to tell me what that was about or do i need to force it out of you?” he’s playing no games. she just stares at him in silence as she debates whether or not she should tell him. “and tell the truth. i don’t have room in my day for lies and wasted time,” he makes sure to tell her.

she chooses her words carefully. “your arms,” she murmurs, avoiding eye contact with him and looking down to her lap. he huffs in annoyance before forcefully grabbing her jaw and making her look at him.

“what about them? don’t be stupid, i don’t have the time for the games,” he warns her before he’s letting her go and awaiting her answer.

“i was thinking about them…,” she pauses, forcing herself to say the words. “i was thinking about them wrapped around my neck when we’re in bed,” she finally finishes. the term ‘in bed’ would’ve been innocent in any other context, but he knows exactly what she means. she means she wants his arms around her neck while he fucks her.

she hears harry’s breath hitch before the room falls into silence, the lack of sound making her regret her decision to be honest with him. she could just about cry when he stands up from the couch, looking down at her lap. a few seconds later, she hears the sound of fabric hitting the floor, and from her peripheral vision she can see the shorts harry was wearing there. trailing her eyes up his legs, her eyes nearly bulge out of her head when she sees harry just stood there with his cock in his hand, hard and already leaking.

“get on your fucking knees,” his words are firm and leave no room for argument and she’s immediately scrambling off the couch and onto her knees in front of him. resting her weight on her heels, she sits there and looks up at him as she patiently awaits further instruction.

“open your mouth,” he demands, and she instantly does so, her mouth already practically salivating at the thought of him. harry just stroked himself a couple times before grabbing the back of her head and forcing her open mouth onto his cock. he immediately sets a brutal pace and begins fucking her throat with no care of the mess she’s making of them with her saliva. he continues for a minute or so, keeping a close eye on her to make sure she’s okay. with each passing second, he sees her move further and further away, until her eyes start to roll back into her head.

“fuck. that’s it, i see. all it took was my cock down your throat and now you can’t even focus. dumb little baby can’t even hold her head up, poor thing,” he firmly slaps her cheek to get her to keep her eyes on him and it works, but only for a moment, before her head is lulling right back onto his thick thigh. over the sounds of her choking on him, harry just sighs in irritation before quickly pulling his cock from her mouth and ignoring her whine of protest.

he’s then quickly grabbing her by her arms and pulling her up before pulling her sleep shorts down and off her body before pushing her onto the couch, pressing her face into the cushions. climbing up onto the couch behind her, he takes a moment to admire her and how wet she already is, her folds glistening with her arousal. he wants a closer look, though, taking his hands and spreading her ass cheeks even wider and looking at her already throbbing hole.

he can’t resist leaning down to swipe his tongue through her sodden folds, suckling on her clit for a moment before pulling away when she starts to grind against his face. she whines in frustration as he just watches her throb a bit, and then he’s letting her ass go before straightening up and taking his cock in his fist once more. crawling forward just a bit, he lines himself up with her and runs his leaking tip through her folds just to tease her a bit more before gathering some spit in his mouth and letting it land on her pussy, trailing down.

when he’s satisfied with the sight, he begins pressing himself into her hole as slowly as possible, listening to her mewls of pleasure as he stretches her tight hole. as soon as he’s deeply seated within her, he lets her adjust for a few seconds before pulling out until his tip is resting at her entrance and pushing back in just as deep as before. “is this what you wanted? for me to stop my work and fuck you like a whore? do you like daddy’s arm around your neck?” he grunts, letting her wails of pleasure as well as the sounds of their skin slapping spur him on.

she can only yell out a chorus of broken agreements, her nails clawing at the leather couch cushions and tears beginning to fall from her eyes at the pleasure. he’s fucking her at what seems like an unfathomable speed to her, each drag of his thick cock along her walls pushing her closer and closer to the edge. she can’t even give him a warning due to her wordless babbles, but he understands.

he doesn’t only understand, he decides to make it even better. stopping for just a moment, he ignores the sound of annoyance that comes from her and sits up to rest on his heels before pulling her up as well. wrapping his arm back around her throat, he begins to fuck into her from below before reaching around her body with his free hand and honing in on her clit.

she hadn’t thought it could get any better, but as soon as he started fucking her so deeply in tandem with the tight circles around her clit, she felt like she could explode. and that she did. after no more than ten seconds more of the intense pleasure she’s experiencing, her body tenses and a yell of relief falls from her lips as her orgasm takes over. as it wracks her body, though, harry switches from just a few fingers on her clit to his whole hand, rubbing the sensitive bud quickly. that sends her into a whole other realm, and she feels her body relax before she can register what’s going on and then they both hear and feel her orgasm drench the leather cushions below them.

this whole time, harry has not stopped fucking her, and soon her head is lulling to the side as she lets him take her even more. “fuck, i’m close,” he chokes, still feeling the aftermath of her orgasm as she flutters around him, milking him for all he’s worth. “where do you want it?” he manages to ask, staving off his orgasm just long enough for her answer. his question basically brings her back to life and she’s pushing her self up on her hands as she answers.

“please, want it in my mouth,” she whines, and he’s immediately pulling his throbbing cock from her and standing up beside the couch before forcing her onto her knees.

“open,” he breathes, chest heaving as he looks down at her. she immediately obliges, sticking her tongue out of her mouth and tipping her head back just slightly, and then harry is quickly jerking his cock in front of her face. “don’t you dare fucking move, fucking shit!” he gasps as his orgasm finally takes over, nearly knocking the wind out of his chest from the intensity. warm spurts shoot from his tip and onto her awaiting tongue and he’s just groaning above her as he empties himself for her.

she takes everything he has to offer, watching his biceps and abs contract as he keeps stroking himself a over her. by the time he’s finished, he’d tongue is coated and some of his cum is even dribbling down her chin. reaching forward, he grabs her neck and keeps her still before gathering some of his saliva and spitting right into her open mouth, humming in satisfaction when she keeps it there without him having to tell her. he lets go and just watches her for a moment, loving to see her struggle to keep her tongue out. “swallow,” he commands and she’s instantly closing her mouth and letting the mixture of cum and spit go down her throat.

~

[withlove-xixi]

— LAIOS NSFW THOUGHTS: laios x reader

ᥫ cw: nsfw, petplay, dom/sub, praise ★ laios appeals to me w the many possible sexual exploits he could be into #tbh — MINORS DNI! —

im sorry, i cant get it off my head .. he'd ... be really into petplay i think. he wouldn't be too ashamed of it too, in fact he's be pretty eager about it. he'd be on all fours and you could already see the imaginary tail eagerly wagging from behind him, and its endearing really. laios would love it if you pet his head or scratched his belly or even just combing through his hair. he wouldn't be against wearing a collar or some ears and a tail to complete the look (though i don't think he'd like being caged or leashed so much. something about feeling constricted too much freaks him out)

he's got that dog in him, what can he say?

oh he would absolutely melt too with praise. anything to let him know he's doing a good job, that you're feeling as good as he is. he loves it, before anything, it's reassurance, a sign to keep going or to change his pace/angle. he knows he's not the best at reading people, so something as simple as telling him how good it feels is enough to keep him going and going. though, immediately after reassurance, it's the unexplainable twist in his gut when you tell him these things. he just loves being called a good boy. argue what you want about if he'd growl or if he's whimper because the correct answer is he'd do both. i dont think he's particularly noisy in bed, but definitely he will make noise and when he does it's so obvious because he's just so loud. it's a bit jarring sometimes because he could be almost silent, save for deep breaths and pants, and suddenly a canine-like growl or whimper would escape his lips.

i like to think he's more or less quiet because he's just too focused on the act. any noise that slips out is simply primal response, written in laios' dna to respond so instinctively.

he's like petnames too! he finds a certain intimacy in the act. he loves calling you by them too, though they're quite unorthodox, things like "my wildflower" or "cheesecake" (since it's his favorite food!) he's definitely tried to call you by a monster's name ... and as sweet as the sentiment was, it wasn't something that lasted too long.

ohhh and back to petplay, laios loves being called "puppy". it's cute and honestly, he kind of is one, is he not?

i think laios can be a bit too excited sometimes too. it's easy for him to get carried away with things he wants to try or do, so you'd have to repeatedly ground him back to what's happening or what's reasonable. though it's not always a verbal cue. you could kiss him gently or pat his arm and he'd get the message, he'd slow down and give you time to breathe and stuff.

idk i think laios is a really sweet guy. similar to my falin nsfw thoughts, as much as he wants to try these new things, it's more out of curiosity and comes from a certain air of innocence. a lot of those things are new therefore something he must try lol. its endearing, it really is. but like his sister, i think he can be a bit timid about it. if he mulls it over too much, he'd end up shyly asking you about it, if it were something you were comfortable with or something you wanted to try. otherwise, he'd be asking you pretty directly, something straight to the point and along the lines of "i want to do this". that being said, i think laios could easily be coerced into trying things. you dont even need to bat your lashes or plead, if you play your cards right, you could instantly spark his curiosity and get him ready to take of his clothes.

oh but laios .. wouldnt be the best at aftercare. dont get me wrong, he tries his best, but somehow he feels a bit lost on what to do. on instinct he goes on autopilot, picking up clothes from the ground, handing you yours, getting dressed and preparing to sleep. but something sweet he does is talk to you though he'd do that regardless of sex. just something short and sweet before you go to bed, in a way, its his way of showing his love and care for you. he listens to what you have to say, he tells you something in return and then its off to bed with you both. it's nice especially if you two have finished doing something nasty, it's a slice of domesticity after something that feels so carnal and it's truly heartwarming.

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Helping Hands.

Best Friend!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (18+)

Initially I was inspired by this prompt from @daisy-is-a-writer but i think the idea kind of strayed from the original prompt a little bit but it is what it is 🤷‍♀️ Also it's kinda smutty but it also got kinda mushy-romantic at the end so take it as it is. ALSO not proof-read so sorry if there are a few mistakes.

Word Count: 3,368

Warnings:Drugs/Mentions of weed, Sharing beds, Mutual Masturbation, Hand-jobs, Oral Sex (F Rec), Vaginal fingering, P in V sex. I think that's it for all the tags, but in case I missed something don't hesitate to send me a message.

Masterlist // Steve Harrington Masterlist

You and Steve had always been close. As close as two best friends could be. Wherever you were he followed, and he would very seldom be without you. It was just the way it was between you. 

But that didn’t mean that the lines between friendships didn't get a little blurred sometimes.

Times like tonight, where you'd spend the night after sharing one of Eddie’s joints, passing it from your hand to his, until you're both feeling pleasantly mellow. A movie playing quietly in the background, ignored as your head slumps against his shoulder, your half-lidded eyes almost fluttering closed.

“Alright, that's enough tv for you.” Steve mutters, reaching for the remote and flicking the television off to a dark screen.

“Hey, I was watching that!” you protest, despite your stifled yawn that you try your best to hide.

“No you weren’t.” he laughs at you softly. “C’mon you’re almost falling asleep there!”

“Alright, alright.” you whine, admitting defeat. “Can I crash here tonight? I don’t think I can quite face going home yet.”

“It’s a good job I already made the bed up then, isn’t it.” he says, getting up and extending a hand out to you to pull you up from the couch.

He leads you to his room, and it’s exactly the same as it has always been. Very boyish in its decor with the dark blue curtains that stop almost any kind of light from streaming in through the windows, and its plaid patterned wallpaper. There’s a few trophies from his high-school years that sit along the top of his dresser, basketball, swim team, even a medal from running track, although it's a bronze medal so it doesn't quite sit as proudly as his other achievements. 

“Make yourself comfortable, don't hesitate to call me if you need anything.”  he says kindly before turning his back as he starts to walk out the door. 

“Wait, Steve, Where are you going?” You ask, tilting your head slightly.

“I was going to sleep on the couch, figured I'd give you the space.” He says, his mouth upturned in a sweet smile.

“I'm not going to turf you out of your own bed. Come on over here, there's plenty of space for the both of us, and besides it's not like we haven't shared a bed before.”

It had happened more than either of you cared to admit, and more than that, when it did happen you'd somehow find each other in the night and snuggle against each other before quickly separating in the morning with embarrassed flushes and pretending that nothing happened. 

You lifted up the duvet for him to join you underneath them, before looking at him with a happy smile and a wish of ‘goodnight’ and then turning over to rest your head on the pillow.

He bid you a goodnight in return, and reached out to his bedside table to flick the small table lamp off, shrouding the room in a cosy darkness before falling asleep right beside you.

And sleep might have been just the thing that you needed, but for some reason your brain wouldn’t let you fully fall. Perhaps the last little remnants of the evening’s high was still floating around in your system because after fitfully tossing and turning you admitted defeat and carefully sat up so as not to disturb Steve, who had indeed fallen asleep clutching to your side, with his big hand splayed on the soft skin of your stomach where your t-shirt had ridden up.

Supposing you hadn’t been as quiet as you hoped to be, because your stirring had awoken Steve with soft grumble as he lifted his messy bed-head from resting into your neck. His dark eyelashes fluttered open as he reached over to flick on his bedside lamp, illuminating the dark room in a warm golden light. 

“You can’t sleep huh?” he mumbles quietly, his voice husky with that drowsy drawl.

“Sorry I woke you up, I just can’t settle. I think my brain is still working overtime.”

“Well let’s see if we can’t figure out a way to make your brain good and tired.” he said with a mischievous smile beginning to pull across his lips.

“What have you got cooking up in that brain of yours, Harrington?” you asked warily, eyeing him with a cautious glance, unsure of whatever he was going to say next. 

“Well, I was just going to suggest what I always do when I can’t sleep.” he says.

“Which is?”

“I jerk off,” he says plainly. 

You scoff at his crude suggestion to remedy your troubles, which earns you a deep chuckle that resonates through his body. Maybe Steve was also still experiencing the last remains of the weed in his system, because he was never usually this brazen with his words, especially not with you.

“Steve, that’s not helping.” you dismiss. “I need a real answer.”

“I'm serious, having an orgasm just tires your brain out and settles your nervous system or some shit. Clearly I don't know the science behind it, but it works, trust me.”

Trust me. Those two little words that he knew meant that he had you playing into the palm of his hands. 

“Okay, let's say that I take your advice, it's not like I can do it with you here.”

“Why not?” he asks with a shake of his head as if he's not following your train of thought.

“Because it would be weird”

It would be weird. It would be so weird, wouldn’t it? You couldn’t just slip your hand below the waistband of your underwear, get yourself off in the hopes of tiring yourself out all whilst laying next to your best friend.

“Doesn't have to be, I could join you so you wouldn't be alone.” He offers. 

“Join me?”

“Yeah, like you can do your thing, and I can do my thing. It doesn't have to be a big deal.” Steve shrugs nonchalantly, like what he was saying was the most normal thing in the world. “C’mon, you know I’m right. When have I ever steered you wrong.”

You weigh up your options in your brain, and with a little bit of the weed still clouding your better judgement you decide to throw all caution to the wind as you turn to Steve with a smile.

“Atta girl” he smirks back at you with a cocky confidence.

You slowly reach your hand down your body, chancing a glance in his direction to see him follow your actions

And sure enough he is. His fist slips beneath the rumpled bed sheets, beneath the band of his boxers and slowly starts stroking. Although his movements are concealed by the material you can clearly see the outline of his bulge as he begins to work himself up, with his face flushing a pretty pink hue across his cheeks.

Your own fingers are rounding your clit in tentative circles as you follow his direction whilst the fingers of your other hand creep underneath your sleep shirt to toy with your nipples, rolling them between a thumb and a forefinger to pebbled peek.

And for a moment you almost forget where you are until you hear a little groaned moan come from beside you.

“Fuck…that’s not fair, you can’t do that.” he says, shifting his weight to look at you.

“Do what?”

“You can’t tease your nipples like that and not show me, I mean like, come on, at least give me a little something to work with here, please.” he says with a shudder as his hand movements slow just a bit.

Wordlessly you let your hand slip from your panties to pull your shirt over your head, and a burning heat spikes into ignition when you hear Steve let out an appreciative little moan as his hungry eyes rake over your naked tits.

“Fuck, I just knew they'd be as pretty as the rest of you.”

“What about you Stevie? I’ve shown you something, what do I get in exchange, huh?” you taunt, pinching a twist to your nipples just to tease him before slipping your other hand back down your body, beneath the waistband of your panties and running your fingers in circles around your clit, letting a soft whine fall from your open lips.

“You wanna watch me? Is that what this is? You wanna watch me stroke my cock for you, Pretty girl?”

Pretty girl. That was a new one. Steve only ever referred to you by name, but you couldn’t ignore the flaring heat that burned in the pit of your stomach at hearing his dropped voice rumble out this new pet name.

Without more than a shy nod of your head and a whispered plea of ‘yes’ Steve obliged you, slipping his boxers down his strong thighs and once more wrapping his huge fist around his cock.

It was no surprise to you that Steve was more than generously endowed. The bulge that he sported in his favoured too-light, too-tight Levis left very little to the imagination, but there was something about seeing it up close like this. Seeing it in his big hands, slick and aching, dripping with needy arousal from his reddened tip that left you with an eagerness to learn every little thing that made him tick. To know everything he thinks about in his solitary moments of pleasure.

He strokes his fist up and down his length, matching your speed as you circle your clit once more underneath your panties.

“I don’t think it’s fair that I’m naked and you’re not.” he stutters out, flushing pink when his thumb sweeps over the bead of pre-cum that dribbled from his tip before gliding back down his cock.

“All you had to do was ask.” you smirk before stripping your panties down your legs.

The air between you both is electrically charged. This is a new and unknown territory of your friendship that you’ve crossed into, but you can’t help but feel safe with Steve. It doesn’t feel as weird as it should, it actually feels right, and it almost feels like the lines between friendship and more could be blurred without anything to worry about.

Your eager eyes watch him with a lustful gaze. Watching as he works his fist over himself in strong steady strokes, twisting his fist tighter when he reaches his reddened tip.

 “Does that feel good, Stevie?” you ask coyly, wanting to know every little thing that he likes.

“Yeah, it feels real good.” he huffs, with little strands of dark hair matting to his sweat-beaded forehead. 

Your hand has long since trailed from your underwear, suddenly becoming more interested in the exploration of Steve’s body than getting yourself off. Your wandering hands carefully make their way to his stomach, feeling how the muscles in his soft tummy clench with every stroke of his cock, feeling the soft smattering of dark hair that trails so nicely down to where you long to touch him the most.

“You know it’s always you that I think about.” Steve starts with a breath. “I think about what it would feel like to have your hands on me like this.”

“You mean like this.” you ask, gaining in confidence, reaching to place your hand over Steve’s as he keeps stroking his cock. 

“Yeah, yeah…” he whines a little, letting his own hand slip from his length just to revel in the feeling of your smaller hands tugging so keenly over every sensitive ridge and pulsing vein. “Just a…oh god..a little tighter please..” he says almost breathlessly.

You lean closer to him, bringing your lips just a hair’s breadth away from his tip, pursing your lips just enough to let a string of spit drool from your sinful lips, before coasting your hand down his length with a spit-slick fist.

Steve’s trying his level best to fight against the need to cant his hips up to meet the movements of your hands, but his stomach is swimming with pleasure and he feels like he could come at any moment. As much as he’s enjoying himself, and how you’re bringing him to the edge he can’t help but feel selfish for how the tables have turned focus on him. This was supposed to be all about you, and now he was here about to blow from possibly the best hand-job he’s ever had like some fucking horny teenager.

“Stop..Stop..Please..Stop.” he manages to get out between stuttered breaths.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask, suddenly worried that of course this was too much for him. Of course you should never have crossed this boundary with him, how could you have been so stupid to let your own horny emotions take over like that only to just ruin your friendship with the one person you care about the most.

“No, not at all I just didn’t want to come like some pathetic teenager.” He laughs easily at his own expense. 

And suddenly the weight from your chest is eased just like that. No worries. No awkward moments. Just you and Steve.

“Let me focus on you for a little bit..please..” he pleads with you with a glint in his honeyed hazel brown eyes. 

“Okay.” You smile

And in nothing more than the quickest of flashes Steve's body is hovering over your, propped up by a hand pressing into the mattress, caging you safely beneath his strong arms. 

“If I'm doing this, I wanna do it right.” He says softly, leaning close until his nose is almost bumping against yours. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod and it's all the go-ahead that Steve needs before he's capturing your lips in a heated kiss, and gently nibbling the plushness of your lower lip before slipping his tongue in to brush against yours. One of his hands cups your cheek tenderly as he moans into a kiss that is more than leaving you a little breathless.

His kissed work lower, one placed at the corner of your mouth, then a trail peppered down the side of your neck where he takes the opportunity to get a bit aggressive with his kisses enough to know that there’s certainly going to be a bruise that you’re going to have to cover with high-neck shirt tomorrow.

His lips descend lower down your body, stopping to press kisses over your breasts, giving each one attention as he kisses a nipple and pulls it between his lips, and releases it with a wet pop until it peaks to a rosy bud.

Then his sloppy kisses inch down your stomach, further and further down until he’s finally where he wants to be. Right between your thighs.

A lazy smile pulls at his lips as he flicks his gaze from your awaiting core to your eyes, and then in a bold move his tongue darts out from between his lips to swipe a broad stroke, gliding over every slick inch of you, tasting you in the way he always dreamed of doing. 

His tongue explores your wet cunt like a man starved, pressing as close as he can, his nose nudging against your clit so deliciously as he links his tongue over your most sensitive parts.

Your hands can barely resist diving into his hair as you gently tug fistfuls of soft brown strands between your fingers, and as you do you're rewarded with a deep growl that soon turns into moan that vibrates against you as he brings you closer and closer to an earth-shattering high. With his tongue flicking over your clit so intently, he takes the time to slip two of his thick fingers into your tight wet cunt, curling them just right to have you grinding down into his touch. All the while he’s eagerly rutting his hips into the mattress below, spurred on by the soundtrack of your little whines of pleasure, desperate to relieve the straining pressure of his needy cock.

“Come on pretty baby, I know you wanna come for me, I can feel the way you're clenching down on my fingers.” Steve’s voice rumbles.

He continues the pleasure you like that for a while, tasting every inch of you that he can, until you can take it no longer and everything around fades into the background and all you can focus on is how good Steve is making you feel. The tight knot in the pit of your stomach finally snaps as you find your release, shuddering through the high of your orgasm as you ride it out against Steve’s face.

“That’s it…’atta girl..give it to me, sweetheart…” he smirks against you as his tongue kitten licks you down from your high, bringing you back into a world where you are safe with him.

As he pulls away from you, the glistening evidence of your arousal shining on his pretty pink lips you can’t help the breathless laugh that escapes you.

“That good, huh?” Steve smirks at you all too proudly.

“Come here, you look like you need some help with that.” you retort, flicking your gaze down to where his cock was still rock-hard between his legs.

“A-are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you into anythi-” he begins.

“-Steve, if I don’t get you inside me in the next few seconds I’m going to go crazy.” you cut him off with your eager enthusiasm.

“Right, I hear you. Loud and clear.” he nods, coming up to situate his body between your legs.

He reaches down to his cock to guide himself into your awaiting folds, pushing in slowly with a shuddering groan until you’re as full of him as you can take.

He takes a quiet moment to lean forward to press a kiss to your lips before speaking.

“I’m not gonna last long…Fuck..I swear I’ll make it up to you…”

Hooking your legs around his hips you draw him closer to you.

“There’s always round two if you’re up for it, Harrington.” you say, leaving a kiss to his flushed red cheek as you do.

Then in a flash of energy he's pistoning his hips into you with everything he’s got, giving your deep pounding thrusts that make you feel every throbbing inch of his cock as it spears into your tight cunt.

His chestnut strand flop down in front of his lust-blown hazel brown eyes, rocking into with vigorous movements. His big hands hold on to your hips enough to leave fingerprint bruises on your skin as he fucks himself into you.

His thrusts get sloppier and sloppier, before he sheaths himself into you one more time and then quickly pulls out to tug a fist over his cock in quick strokes and splatter his cum over the soft pudge of your stomach. Glazing your skin in the hot ropes of his arousal.

His shaky form flops down onto the bed beside you as his chest rises and falls with exhausted breaths, his tanned and freckled skin is awash with a firm rose sheen.

“Hang on, I’m just going to get something to clean you up.” he says sweetly.

And before you know it he’s back with a warm wash-cloth swiping his mess from your skin with the gentlest of touches.

When everything is cleaned up and both of you feel the pull of being well and truly tired out you fall asleep holding on to each other, his arms holding you close, and your legs tangled with his, under the comforting warmth of his bedsheets.

“Stevie, what does this mean?” you can’t help the niggling feeling of doubt creeping in “Y’know, what does this mean for us now?”

“It means I love you more than a friend, always have, probably always will.” he assures your worries with a soft kiss pressed to your forehead. “Go to sleep now, we can talk more in the morning, right now I just want to hold you.”

That was all you needed to hear. To know that you were safe in the arms of your best friend. Safe in the love of your Stevie.

@abitchyouhate @penguinsandpotterheads @eddiesxangel @mrsjellymunson @ali-r3n @seatnights @rebelfell

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Hello friend! I'm in love with your writing!!! 😍😍😍😍😍

Idk if your requests are still open but I'd like to request something if you don't mind!

I LOVED the hurt/comfort/whump fic you did for Hunter. Could you possibly do something like that for Tech x Reader?

Maybe Tech and the reader are on a mission together or maybe they've crash landed somewhere or something. The reader is badly hurt and Tech has to take care of her and treat her wounds and save her and comfort her in his own special Tech way 😂😍

Oh @arctrooper69 what can I say? I mean ... I think a thank you is just not enough. You have made my day with this request, so I took my time to give it the proper respect it deserves. I hope you like it. If it wasn't exactly what you were looking for I do apologize.

Please note that you are always welcome to send in requests. As this is a special request, it will be stored in my One Shots & Mini Series Master List.

The story got a little away from at 1400+ words, but I hope it's close to what you wanted.

And who doesn't love Tech. I love this adorable nerdy man.

Love oo,

His Promise

Warnings: Snow, injury, blood, explosions, crash, grief, fear, anxiety, hurt, fluff, near death, feelings of being a burden, getting in the way, I think that's it. If I miss any, please let me know.

Please note the explanation of Snow, Tech gives, was taken from the National Snow and Ice Data Centre.

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The wind was picking up, as the snow piled down and was doing everything in its power to keep you and Tech from being rescued. You looked at the snow as it came down in sheets outside the entrance of the cavern he found, mesmerized by its beauty. 

“It’s beautiful and so calming …” you said slowly, your body already weakened from your injury and loss of blood.

“What are you talking about?” Tech did his best not to let the slowness of your breathing or even the breathless way you were speaking affect him. His anxiety was already high, and his fear of losing you was nearing his breaking point. 

“The snow…” you kept watching the soft flakes float down as they gently landed on the ground, piling on top of one another, almost as though they were unable to survive without the comfort of those around them. 

Tech glanced up to see the blizzard which prevented you both from leaving. As he watched the speed of the wind, he calculated it would’ve been nearly impossible for Hunter to bring the ship close to them. As he looked at the used bandages already soaked through with your blood his fear only grew. You needed immediate medical attention, more than he could provide at the moment, or it would mean certain death for you to be out here any longer.

Frankly, he couldn’t stop picturing the way you lunged forward as the ship crashed. He was helpless to watch you, as your body fell forward against the console, as a piece of the console broke off and jabbed you in your abdomen. It all happened too fast and somehow in slow motion. He could still hear your scream piercing his ear as he pulled you off the console.

He tried to stop the bleeding right away, however when he went to look for the med kit, he realized only too late that it had fallen out of the shuttle when the engine and the side compartment blew. All he had left were his emergency bandages and gauze and they weren’t nearly enough. 

At that moment, he couldn’t care less about how beautiful the snow was or how calming the blizzard looked from inside a cavern, that he only had to find because that piece of osik shuttle decided to have a fuel leak, catching on fire. 

Within seconds he had needed to drag you out of the relatively warm and safe shelter you both had, grabbing what supplies he could before the ship blew up. Thankfully, he had been able to send a message to Hunter when the shuttle crashed initially. So it was only a matter of time before the Marauder showed up, but …

His eyes fell back to the bundle of used gauze, his anxiety climbing as he knew you needed more first aid than he could provide at the moment. You needed the Marauder, you needed his med kit that he carefully stocked and kept safe on board the Marauder. At this point in time, he didn’t care about any kriffing snow.

“Snow is an accumulation of packed ice crystals. The condition of the packed crystals determines a variety of attributes, such as colour, temperature and water equivalent. As weather conditions change, the packed ice crystals can change as well, and this affects the characteristics of snow.”

You chuckled at his ability to pull forth information like it was nothing. Unfortunately the chuckle turned to coughing. Only causing you to dribble more blood out of your mouth, you wiped away what you could. He didn’t need to see that, “Tech …” you coughed again, “turn off your brain for two seconds, don’t think and just look. Just watch.”

He pulled the heater closer towards you, “Stop talking and try and warm up.”

“Tech…” you held his hand, “just look.”

His eyes drifted up your body, till he locked eyes with you. They were pleading for him to listen and to just have him appreciate what you found mesmerizing. He tried to follow your advice, focusing on the snow, but all his mind kept drifting back to was this blizzard that was preventing you from getting the medical attention you needed, so desperately. 

He shook his head focusing back on your abdomen, trying to stop the bleeding. Trying his best to keep you with him. 

“Tech,” you gripped his wrist “… stop …”

“No.”

His tone was firm and full of anger, why did he agree to let you come with him? If he used his brain instead of allowing his feelings for you to dictate his actions, you wouldn’t have been here. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Why did you always insist on following him? Why didn’t you just stay behind on Pabu? Simply because you wanted to see the galaxy, and he was excited to show it to you? It was his fault you were here. It was his fault you were in danger. It was his fault he … was going to lose you.

“Tech …” you squeezed his wrist. He removed your hand from his wrist, placing it off to the side as he focused on your wound. He didn’t deserve your touch, he didn’t deserve to have you comfort him. It was his fault you both crashed on this force forsaken planet. 

There was nothing you could do as you watched Tech pull away. 

From the moment you met him on Pabu, the way he worked with Phee as he helped rescue the villagers when the rogue wave was rushing towards the island, and the way he helped make everything more ‘efficient,’ you couldn’t help but fall in love with him. You wanted to learn from him, to listen to him go on with regards to anything and everything. Only problem was you never had the courage to actually utter the words you were dying to. Phee told you time and time again, ‘later’ was never a guarantee, and now as you lay on the cold floor of the cavern you were in, bleeding out of your abdomen, you realized how little time there was left. 

  Tears welled up in your eyes, as you realized you needed to unburden yourself. You needed to tell him what had been pressing on your heart before you didn’t have the strength to, it didn’t help that you were feeling weaker with each passing second. Also didn’t help that you could tell he was angry, actually a more accurate description would be infuriated, more than likely at you.

“I’m sorry.” You offered the only apology you could. “I’m sorry I’m such a burden, even now.” You took in a shuddering breath as Tech stopped moving his hands for two seconds as he focused on your face. “I’m sorry for always pestering you to teach me,” you offered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry for not listening,” a tear slid down your cheek, “I’m sorry for putting you in this position. To have to feel responsible for someone like me.” 

He shook his head, his teeth clenched as his anger, grief, fear, and sadness overwhelmed him completely in that moment. He pulled off his helmet and placed it beside him. 

“Stop.” It was his only command.

“Please, I …” you coughed again, trying to not cough on him. “I just want … I need to …”

He cut off your speech as his hand cupped your cheek, “Cyar’ika …” tears welled up in his eyes, “you were … are never a burden.” He couldn’t believe that’s what you thought of him… that’s what you believed he felt for you. He shook his head again as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I have loved every second we have spent together. I made a point to record every moment with you, because they were more precious to me than breathing.”

You held on to his bicep, keeping him close as tears streamed down your cheek, “Tech … I … I don’t want to go… I want … I want to stay here with you…”

“You’re not going anywhere. I just got you …” his tears landed on your cheeks, mixing with your own, “you’ll be okay. I promise.”

“Hold me… please… just hold me until…I can’t feel your arms anymore.”

“I’ll hold you longer than that,” Tech pulled you into his arms, lifting you off the ground as he felt your body grow weaker. Your eyes were closed, your body was growing pale. He was so focused on you, he didn’t hear the voices calling out to him, at least not until he felt Hunter’s hand on his shoulder. He didn’t wait, there were no more seconds to lose. He rushed towards the Marauder with you in his arms, he wasn’t going to lose you. He promised. He was going to bring you back.

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[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Hi! I've read a couple of your fics and guidelines for requesting and I'd like to give it a go. Can I get a Tech x reader who's a friend of Phee (canon divergence where He lives) where he falls in love with reader and spends time relaxing on Pabu. Hope you have a wonderful day/night/whatever time it is for you! 😁

Falling Swiftly

Tech x Reader

Summary- Being a friend of Phee's, you meet The Bad Batch. Tech catches your eye, and you eventually get to live out your dream with him on Pabu.

A/N- *slowly slides in*.....So its been almost three months since I've posted.... SORRY! Better late then never? Either way, it's here now!! I hope you enjoy, TYSM for requesting!!! I went a little crazy at the beginning, sad to happy is MY FAV! The timeline is slightly exaggerated.

Word Count- 1,622

Tech. CT-9902. Brown Eyes.

You had first heard of the name when your friend Phee had sent you a Holo message. One that explained she ran into a group called 'The Bad Batch,' that they would be returning to the island with her.

You were ecstatic that your long-distance friend would be returning to Pabu. It had been weeks since you had seen her, you needed to catch up.

She always told you about the trifling adventures she went on, she was the thrill seeker of the friendship. You were content living vicariously through her.

Though, her bringing in a new 'batch' of people? Mild concern flowed through you, but you trusted Phee's judgement. Even if she had barely escaped death many times.... Okay, maybe you didn't trust her completely.

When word spread through the island that a ship was inbound, you knew it was her. Pabu didn't get many visitors.

You eagerly awaited her at the top of the island, a safe distance from the landing pad. You were practically bouncing on your heels with excitement.

"Phee!" You exclaimed as soon as you saw her exit the ship. She laughed and walked over with open arms.

A warm hug was exchanged, but cut short as the rest of 'The Bad Batch' walked down the ramp.

A small girl and three men, who vaguely resembled clones, appeared.

Your eyes immediately landed on the quirky looking man. He wore glasses, shaded yellow, and had his head down to look at his Holo pad. He somehow managed to not trip or run into anyone. This slightly impressed you.

"This is Pabu. My home away from home!" She announced to the group.

"And this, is my dear friend." She shared your name to the group while you awkwardly waved.

The tension was eased as soon as the young girl, ran up to you.

"That's such a pretty name, I'm Omega!" She radiated energy, her kindness was contagious. "Thank you. It's really nice to meet you, Omega."

Pleasantries were cut short as Phee continued her tour. You trailed along with them, mostly keeping quiet.

You always noticed how people tuned you out, almost forgetting you were there. It was something you were used to, so why change? You were talkative to the people you were comfortable with, wasn't that enough?

Somehow you didn't feel that way with, who you learnt was, Tech. Sure, his eyes were glued to his pad most of the time- but the few days you spent with him felt different.

When traveling around the island with everyone, Tech didn't let you trail behind. He always kept up with your pace. Only a few words were exchanged alone, but he always made you feel... human. He didn't let you be forgotten.

It shocked you when he knocked on your door, asking to go on a walk. You could faintly hear Omega and Wrecker snickering behind a bush.

Fighting your surprise, you accepted.

From there, the two of you spent hours upon hours together.

The smile on your face would only grown when he started ranting about his current interest. His vast knowledge amused you.

When he recounted tales of him and "The Bad Batch's" adventures, you felt like you were really there. Not to mention some of the recordings he had showed you.

One night, the two of you had found yourselves by the sand. The sound of the water splashing up made you sleepy.

With your arms crossed under your head, you laid flat. Tech, who was next to you, sat bent over. Of course- his Holo pad was between his hands.

"Did you know some beaches glow?" He started, eyes still down.

"Hmm? Really?" You asked, shifting your attention to him.

"Well-" He pushed his goggles up. "They are not technically glowing. The bright light is caused by ostracod crustaceans, which are bioluminescent organisms."

You closed your eyes, listening to him rant on about different sea life that illuminated light.

Your smile soon dropped, sadness overtaking you. A wave of emotions hit, you remembered all too well that he was leaving in the morning... You understood he had to save his old friend, Crosshair. Though, it didn't hurt any less.

Desperately, you tried to conceal your pain. Only a sniffle escaped.

Tech, oh so observant, Tech. "What is wrong?" He set his Holo pad down, eyes locked on you.

He cared about you so much... You squeezed your eyes shut and shuffled to a sit. You could barely respond, your tears overtaking you. "You're leaving..." At that, you shoved your face in your hands.

You didn't notice that Tech had moved closer until his hands gently pulled at your wrist. "I'll be back." He insisted, trying to see your face.

"Tech, I'm worried for you. What if something happens?" You stared at him, an argumentative tone present.

With an unintentional scoff, he spoke. "I have been on many improbable missions. If I thought this one was impossible, I wouldn't be going."

You sat there, wrist still in his grasp. "You don't understand.." Your eyes filled again.

It's true Tech was not one for emotions, or picking up on tension. It was difficulty for him to process others feelings.

"I know. Please... Help me understand."

You just sobbed, he pulled you tight against his chest. You could feel his heart beating, it was fast like yours.

He kissed the top of your head, at a loss for words. Eventually, a hand fell down to rest on your back. He slightly rubbed it every so often.

That was all you remembered of that night. It had been days after, no one knew when they would be coming back. If they were coming back. It was a no contact mission, the risk was too high.

Your mind was filled with thought of him. Sure, he was gone, but he seemed so vivid in your memory.

He was genuine. You knew he wasn't lying when he pushed your hair back and complimented your eyes.

You knew he wasn't lying when he held your hand softly and told you how he yearned to stay with you.

You knew he wasn't lying when the two of you picked flowers and promised a future together.

Who knew that future would be at such a high stake? Was your Tech going to come back alive?

It had been a painful two weeks. Each day without him was a stab to your heart.

What had stressed your out most, was seeing their ship fly in... It was about to be reality. Was he alive? Dead?

You anxiously shifted on your heels at the top of the island, not unlike the first day you met Tech.

Hunter was the first off the ship, next was the man you assumed to be Crosshair.

"Hunter! Is he-" You would later feel bad for not welcoming Hunter back as well, but he'd understand.

Your question was answered as soon as you saw him pace out the ship. For once in his life, he wasn't holding his Holo Pad.

As you would later learn from Hunter, Tech had never been this eager to land the ship...

"Tech!" You ran up, meeting him. A slight jump had you wrapping your arms around his neck. His own hands joining on your lower back.

All you could do was bury your face in his neck and whisper thanks to the Maker.

Your arms only relaxed when you felt kisses on the top of your head. "Oh, Tech. I missed you more than words can describe." You said, pulling slightly away to look into his eyes.

"I think I understand." He said looking down at you. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly, confused. Then it hit you- the beach.

With a sob, your grip tightened again as you held him.

A slight pang hit your chest when remembering that moment, it quickly went away. You were completely content with Tech, living out your days on Pabu.

The memory did, however, make you want to see your husband. Getting up from your chair in the kitchen, you headed out to your somewhat of a shed. Tech mostly worked in there, tools and projects that helped Pabu.

You gave a quick knock on the wooden door to let him know you were there, but you assumed he already knew by him calling you name.

A mischievous grin came across your face when you realized he had taken his sleeved shirt off and tied it around his waist. The Pabu heat was no joke in the summer.

"What ya working on?" You queried, leaning over him. Your chin rested on his sweaty shoulder.

"Experimenting on an echolocation device to persuade fish towards the fishermen's ships." He explained briefly for you, head still down working at a handheld device.

When you didn't move nor respond, he shuffled to look at you. "Did something happen?"

His eyes absentmindedly scanned you for any physical injury. Deep down, Tech was still a soldier.

"No, just thinking about you." You smiled at him, just wanting to spend time with him.

He understood well enough and moved to pull a chair up by the table. "Here, you can watch." His words seemed off putting, but you knew that's just how he was. That it was his way of showing he cared and also wanted your presence.

So, you sat and listened to him rant about the technological side of his piece, and that the last step was to make it bolt to the base of the fishing boats.

You couldn't offer many ideas or solutions, but Tech being able to talk out the project helped him tweak his wires. He always worked better with you next to him...

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! This is BARELY proof read, sorry! I just wanted to get something out for you guys!!! Please let me know of any constructive criticism!

Tags- (LMK if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss @dangraccoon

[t-a-a-1]

The Darkest Hour

(TFP Optimus x Female Reader)

Summary:

After being labeled as crazy for trying to report that robot aliens exist on national television, you lose your job and move to Jasper City. In a drastic turn of fate, you meet Optimus Prime. You and Team Prime get together to find ancient relics that are vital to the Autobot's cause.

Along the way, you and Optimus start to develop feelings that go beyond comradeship.

But what happens when he discovers you've been lying all of this time?

……..

This story is a slow burn. Eventual smut. Optimus develops an unhealthy attachment (he is smitten, obsessed) to you but nothing OOC. Lots of yearning, craving, hurt, betrayal, erotic and that good stuff. Ok bye. In case of any questions, comments, concerns, suggestions, requests, etc, you may message me here. Thank you for reading! For A better reading experience you may read this story on Ao3.

>>> https://archiveofourown.org/works/60642838/chapters/154846393

Ch.1: The Crossroads Of Destiny

"During times of war, there is no good or bad. Everyone is a victim and an abuser. But it's good to remember that the best thing a person can do is to be kind and show mercy to the enemy."

Everyone needs a pep talk once in a while. Even Optimus Prime.

After the death of Cliffjumper, there wasn't much morale going around in the base. Just a very uncomfortable quietness. It was like an unspeakable agreement between Team Prime to never really speak of their feelings. Whether it had become customary to lose the ones they cared about, they didn't see the point.

It's a war after all.

"It takes one act of kindness to change people's hearts and everyone has the ability to change. Together we can transform this hateful world into one of peace."

Nonetheless, he found comfort in the small things. He wasn't fond of human entertainment but he deemed it necessary to learn the current happenings of the world. That was the main reason he installed a TV in his private quarters. With all the main news channels. He wasn't surprised to see robberies, murders, abuse and the constant wars. He was too familiar with it all.

But one day as he passed by one of the channels he found something, or rather someone who caught his attention.

"I believe anyone can be a hero."

The reporter always had something good to say. Just like him, this individual has been through countless wars and witnessed many misfortunes. Optimus knew this because he would never miss the news just to watch this specific reporter. Or if he did, he made sure to record it so he could watch it later. This human had somehow become a small hope for him. Encouraging words when he needed it the most.

"But the world will always need a true leader in the darkest hour."

And Primus knows he needs it.

.

.

.

"Reporting to you live, (Reader), CNF News."

You should have stopped being so biased and giving your opinion on everything when your boss first told you to.

You hated watching your old reports but you needed to see what was so wrong with them for CNF to fire you. Now you can see why.

Hero? Hope? Peace? Love?

You were young and stupid to believe in all of that. You had grown now and after seeing so much malice in this world, your opinion had completely changed.

Now you were in Jasper City. Not so much of a city more like a town. With its small population, they had a local news station that was willing to give you a job.

"I have insiders in the government telling me that aliens are real! I even have footage and locations where they have appeared!"

That was one of the few things you told your boss before he fired you. Of course, it wasn't just that. Your ticket out was trying to report your findings live on national television, with video, graphics and all. Of course, the station cut you off the broadcast the moment you started to sound like crazy.

But it was enough to ban you from all major broadcasting companies. Not even print media would accept you. Not the New York Times, not The Wall Street Journal, not even lifestyle magazines wanted you.

You had so much information to share. Like how you were able to track down locations that lead to items of alien origin. You didn't know what the items were for but by investigating ancient legends, you assumed that they were important.

"So, (Y/N), what are you going to be reporting on?"

Your new boss came into your small office. Not really an office but rather a desk that you shared with the other ten people.

"I've been investigating and on a few forums, it says that this town has a government base not too far from here," you typed in your laptop and quickly flipped it to show your boss various pictures. "Apparently, the base is used for weaponry manufacturing and other .... Illicit activities."

"Look, when we hired you, we didn't need a crazy alien believer," he put a hand on his eyes and moved it down his face, clearly frustrated. "We just needed someone who met deadlines."

"But isn't our job as journalists to bring the truth to the people? Don't you want to know where your taxes are going?"

"Look, this is Jasper City, the most interesting thing that has ever happened here is a pig that gave birth to another pig with two heads," he pointed to the wall and you followed it with your eyes. It was indeed, a newspaper cut out of the birth of a mutated pig.

"There is a new coffee shop opening tomorrow, why don't you report on that instead?"

"But, Mr. Jones-"

"Coffee shop. Tomorrow," he said in a commanding tone. "And upload the package on the rundown before midnight."

.

.

.

You pulled out a lighter and started smoking a cigarette on the outside of a bar. You were planning on coming down from your car and drinking a beer. However, after careful consideration, you didn't want to deal with strangers. You didn't want any 'Are you new to town? Haven't seen you around."

You knew that would happen, after all, you came from a small city before moving to New York to be a reporter. Now you are back to a smaller town you weren't even familiar with.

You had gone to the coffee shop opening and turned in your report before the deadline.

From reporting on corruption, war and crimes ... you went to reporting ... whatever this was.

You looked outside your car and noticed a military vehicle parked in front of you. Two guys in uniform come out of it, stretching their arms and yawning.

"Do you think it's safe for us to let that box unguarded?"

"Yeah, it's just some papers. Nothing to worry about. We are close to base anyways, we deserve a beer for our hard work."

One of them carelessly put the truck's keys in his back pocket and as you expected, it fell to the ground.

"Old job, here I come."

You were in the back of the truck, looking at the documents that weren't too impressive. It was stuff you already knew. Alien artifacts were located in different parts of the world. Nothing new. Still, you decided to take pictures of it with your phone. You needed more time to read them, maybe they contained something you didn't know.

Nonetheless, you knew that wherever these documents were heading was going to be more interesting. So you decided to leave the truck keys in the front seat with the hope that the men wouldn't even question how they got there.

You were right. It was too easy to predict men.

You were heading to somewhere unknown, miles away from your new home and somehow it felt more liberating. Could you be killed by the government for doing this? Probably. But then again you've survived worse and you have nothing left to lose.

You hid and didn't make any sound. It's probably been around two hours of driving.

Everything was going smoothly.

Until the truck came to a complete stop. You almost hit your head as you lost balance.

Then, the vehicle moved uncontrollably as you heard the sound of a missile impacting it. You recognized the sound, you'd heard it before. Countless times while reporting the wars.

You did not only hit your head but other parts of your body as the truck rolled multiple times through the dry desert.

You were dizzy but still managed to hold onto the box. You saw the two soldiers come out of the truck, holding guns. Next, you heard shots.

You heard heavy steps. The type that made the ground tremble.

You came out of the truck, not caring anymore if the military men saw you. Curiosity was always your weakness and you needed to know what made a five-ton truck flip like a coin.

You held into the box like your life depended on it. Stepping into the fuel that was leaking from the truck. You saw the soldiers, helplessly shoot bullets to that thing.

A thing.

That's the best way you could describe it.

Made of metal. 20 ... No, 30 feet tall. Robot. Silver and grey. Red. Sharp ends. With missiles and guns at its disposal.

You stared at it with awe. It was good to know that you weren't crazy, that you were right. On the other hand, you don't know if you will live long enough to tell the world about it.

The enormous metal creature pointed at you with one of its missiles.

"You, give me that box."

It spoke.

You knew that aliens must have their ways of communication but speaking perfect English was something you didn't imagine.

"I won't ask again ... Give me that box."

He wanted the documents. You didn't know why nor wanted to find out. It didn't take much for you to realize that you indeed had important information. So much that an alien came looking for it. But your body didn't respond. It was your first time seeing something out of this world. In the dark night and the starry sky of Nevada, you suddenly felt so little. So insignificant and the realization made your body unable to move.

Then, there was light.

That of metal clashing. Of the little chemical reaction when two metals collide.

Another creature. Bigger and taller. Stronger. Red and blue and silver.  Punching in the face the creature that was threatening you. They engaged in a battle too fierce to be in front of.

Your attention was drawn towards the men who lay on the floor unconscious. The soldiers must have been knocked out during the intrication. Dropping the box, you ran towards them as the two creatures fought against each other.

You thought your ears would explode from each impact, from each crash. You checked their pulses, they were breathing, but you knew you were too weak to move them, especially with uniforms on.

"Give me that box."

You ran towards the box, falling in the way as the ground trembled. You have to think fast. Two titanic robots, fighting. The first one spoke to you, demanding the box. The second one came in to fight.

Who was good? Who was bad? You weren't sure. You only knew one thing.

This box was important. It's content at least. You weren't a hero but you knew this was bigger than you. Maybe the information gave the robots a way to conquer the Earth. Regardless, you couldn't afford to think about it too much.

The box was made out of carton. For such an important thing, it sure wasn't guarded safely. But this was the United States Government, you didn't expect much. It was already covered with fuel from the leaking truck.

People say smoking cigs is bad. Well, at least you always carry a lighter with you.

The aliens keep fighting. You thought of them as aliens because you couldn't describe them better than that. They weren't green and skinny, nothing like you imagined. They were more like giant robot aliens. Aliens that had guns and that each bullet was so loud that you felt your entire body shake within.

You dropped the lighter on top of the box and it immediately caught on fire. You ran as fast as you could away from it, as you knew that the fuel would travel to its place of origin, the truck.

The truck explodes, and you use your body to cover the bodies of the still-unconscious men.

"NO!"

You hear one of the creatures scream. Both creatures had their attention on the truck on fire. However, the silver one took a step back and in a blink of an eye, he transformed into a jet. It flew away and it went away just as fast.

You couldn't even afford the time to be in shock.

The red and blue creature slowly came towards you. It kneels in front of you and its face is covered by what you consider to be a battle mask but somehow, it made it disappear. Its face moves closer and closer, observing you, moving in ways that are not human. Yet, you didn't feel threatened, it's as if it was amused with your presence.

Suddenly, you hear whimpering and grunts of pain. One of the soldiers was waking up.

"Did ... Did we win?"

.

.

.

"She wants to talk to you, Prime."

It wasn't like Optimus was waiting around because he didn't trust Agent Fowler's procedures. It was mostly because Ratchet was having difficulty opening up the groundbridge again.

"She's actually a very prestigious reporter ... before she started ranting about aliens, I mean she was right, but you know what I mean."

The whole area was guarded in a 100-meter diameter, not another human would enter without Fowler knowing. A few helicopters had arrived at the battle scene, fastly constructing tents. One is for the medics to treat the injured soldiers, and the other is for you, for a questionnaire. Everything was quickly contained.

"Why don't you take her for a ride and convince her to sign the confidentiality papers? ... I hate to use brute force on women."

He sees you walk out of the pre-made tent. You had a small blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Optimus sometimes forgets how delicate humans can be. The nights in the Nevada desert can be extremely cold and deadly for a small organism like you.

He looked at Fowler and the agent wasn't budging. He was waiting for him to take the next step.

Optimus vents heavily and transforms himself into his human-based design. A semi-truck with 18 wheels. He slowly drove towards you and when he got close enough, he opened the pilot door as an invitation to go inside.

You seemed hesitant but ultimately you walked towards him and got inside the truck. He closed the door for you and drove off into the distance.

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.

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You couldn't keep your hands to yourself. You touched the steering wheel, the windows, the seats, the radio buttons, the stick shift. Everything looked and felt like it belonged in a regular truck. Yet, it did not feel inanimate. It all feels somehow alive. You were quiet, literally, inside a robotic alien.

"I do not wish to be rude, but would you be kind enough to stop touching me?"

The alien spoke to you.

"Oh, forgive me, does it hurt?"

The truck stays quiet. But you can feel that the hot air coming out of his vents becomes hotter for a few seconds.

"My name is Optimus Prime from the Planet Cybertron. I am-"

"The leader of the Autobots? And you are in a war against the Decepticons?"

Silence. It was even comical to you. The bot was probably tired and the last thing he wanted to do was deal with a pesky human. Not like you cared much.

"Yes," he simply responds. From this point forward, you knew that this is how most of your conversations with him would go. Short and straight to the point. You'll easily find common ground with him.

"Fowler gave me the rundown of things."

"Then I must ask ... why are you hesitant to sign the confidentiality contract?"

You didn't know where he was taking you. You thought that he is probably driving for the sake of it. He is a truck, after all, he must enjoy the drive. But the night is dark and everything around you made it eery.

"I am a reporter ... If I sign that contract my career is over. Can't talk about the government ever again," you weren't completely lying. "And I just happen to love exposing corruption."

"I know."

"You know?"

"I've seen a few of your works,' Optimus said, making a small pause. His voice is very pleasant, nothing like you expected from a robotic alien. "You speak of truth."

"It's the only way you can fight a war without violence," you try to be vague without giving out too much information. You can't trust someone you just met, especially not someone from another planet.

"And maybe the only way to win one."

"What do you wish for? What would make you sign the contract?"

"The truth," you said. "I want the truth."

"I will sign the contract under one condition," talking was one of your strengths. You let out one important fact, leaving you vulnerable. It was a risk but you needed to create the illusion that there was trust.

"I have the information that was in the box, stored in my personal phone. If you let me accompany you in retrieving these ancient items, I will sign those contracts without complaining."

Suddenly, Optimus comes to a slow stop. The middle of nowhere in Nevada's desert. Just a couple of mountains, some big rocks, and cactus. And of course, a clear night sky.

You see that the bot had locked the doors. You mentally curse yourself. Did he have some type of power that could read through you? You should probably have done better research before lying.

"Why do you want to venture yourself in such matters?"

It was your time to shine.

"No matter how much I try, the truth is not enough to fix my world. At least it won't happen during my lifetime," you say words that your old self would say. Maybe a small and tiny part of you still believed in it.

"I heard your world is not even habitable because of the war. Even after that, the Autobots and the Decepticons won't stop fighting."

"I was just taught a quick rundown of everything so I am sure there's still much to learn but," you think carefully about what you are going to say. It's cheesy and cringe but you could only hope that this robotic alien is a fool and can't see your human nature of deceiving others.

"By learning and telling the truth, you can build the base of a new future for your planet. I can't fix my world but I want to help fix yours."

There was no reaction from him. You started to get worried as seconds turned into minutes. He wasn't stupid either. He was testing you to see if you would break or say something suspicious.

"I'll allow you to accompany us during our expeditions if there are no risks."

You were about to let out a heavy sigh of relief but you stopped yourself. For all he knows, there was nothing to worry about since you were not lying.

"But you will be under my surveillance," he adds as he starts to drive once again. "Starscream has seen your face, we can't afford for you to be alone for long periods of time."

That's going to make your work a bit more complicated but you had to do everything in your power to get your old life back.

"It's a deal then."

Optimus makes a sharp turn, instantly making you fall from your sit. He wasn't the most delicate. He probably didn't even measure his own strength.

"We'll start immediately."

"Immediately?" you rubbed your head, surprised he didn't even apologize. He probably doesn't care or Cybertronians have different manners. There's much to learn. "Well, as long as I am back for work on Monday it should be fine. But can we leave tomorrow morning? I want to go home and rest."

You felt the hot air from his vents coming out stronger than before for a few seconds. You assumed this was his way of sighing, with much disappointment.

He didn't say much after that and you just waited until he spoke to ask you for directions. .

.

.

You were renting a small home in the suburbs. You weren't sure if semi-trucks were allowed but one night should be fine. Prime wouldn't fit in your garage but the driveway gave him enough space.

Optimus opened his door for you and you jumped out. Stretching your legs felt nice, it was a bit chilly outside but nothing compared to the coldness of the desert. Turning to look at the Autobot, you wonder what you could say.

"Do you need anything?"

Did he drink water? Or oil? Did he need a bath? Did he even bathe?

"No."

His voice interrupted your thoughts.

"Alright then, if you need something, let me know," you said, trying your best to get some conversation going. "We are leaving as soon as the sun comes out."

He doesn't say a word. You didn't blame him, it was too much to expect him to trust you just after a couple of hours of knowing each other, and it's not like you could blame him. You wouldn't trust yourself either.

"Goodnight."

He doesn't reply.

.

.

.

"I'll return in two days. I am on a special mission to seek for a Cybertronian relic. I was assigned to work with a human. I am unsure if the subject can be trusted. I'll keep the human away from the base until I conclude their trustworthiness. I'll explain more later. Do not worry."

Arcee, Bulkhead and Bumblebee looked at the message on the data screen as Ratchet read Optimus's message out loud.

"Seems like he had an interesting patrol night," Arcee said as she looked at Optimus' vitals on the screen. They looked normal. "Shouldn't we go with him?"

"If Optimus needs backup, he will ask for it," Ratchet also keeps looking at Optimus' vital signs. There weren't any abnormalities, nothing that would require him to come to the base. "Besides it's not like we can go to him even if we wanted to. I am still trying to fix the groundbridge."

This wouldn't be the first time Optimus would be assigned a solo mission by Agent Fowler. Everyone knows that as the leader, Optimus has to be on constant missions, taking jobs that are too dangerous. Not because he didn't trust the abilities of his team-mates but because he didn't want to risk the spark of the others.

"It's better if we stay here in case we find an energon mine."

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.

.

You did not dare to write your findings on the laptop. You weren't stupid. You knew very well that the wifi and your laptop must be rigged by the government by now. Watching and revising every search.

Instead, you opted for doing it the old way. Writing today's events on a notebook and little by little, fill it up with more information and most importantly, evidence.

You could already imagine it. Getting your job back. Being recognized as the best reporter of all time. The one who exposed the government and told the world about the existence of alien life. You will be set for life. You won't be a simple reporter anymore. No. Maybe, you'll become the CEO of CNF. Or even better, have your own news station.

That's if the government doesn't kill you before. You have to be extremely careful.

You look outside your window and see Optimus Prime. Agent Fowler didn't tell you much. Just that's he is a sentient being, with a strong sense of justice. Leader of the Autobots, a group of soldiers who fought against the Decepticons to gain control of their home planet.

Oh, how much you hated soldiers. Whether they were fighting for a good cause or not, it didn't matter to you. They all had blood on their hands. They all were guilty. Especially leaders who make others fight their useless war.

But your hatred won't get Optimus to trust you and you need to get as much information from him as possible.

You sigh. You were new here as well so you have a lot of boxes lying around. Nonetheless, you remember seeing an old tarpaulin in the garage, probably from the previous renter.

You look out the window again. It shouldn't hurt to try.

.

.

.

Optimus finished texting to Agent Fowler. A simple text that explained the current situation and his next steps.

It had been a long night. He thought his patrol was going to go as smoothly as others before. But nothing turns out as he expects it.

He still doesn't know how you convinced him to let you come. It's not like he doesn't know who you are. He has never missed one of your reports. Regardless of everything, all the war, the pain and suffering you've seen, you always ended things on a good note.

It was the kind of thing he needed.

Words he needed to hear.

He is always wary of people. Of anyone in particular that hasn't proven to be worthy of trust.

And you?

He just knew you for a couple of hours. He would be lying to himself if didn't admit his spark glowed for a small moment when he saw you.

Against the lack of his better judgment, he wanted to accept you immediately. To show you the base, for you to meet everyone and become that individual with unbreakable morals that keeps the team together.

A duty bestowed upon him ... that he so wanted to share with someone. He has been carrying it for so long, it has become too difficult to carry it by himself.

Can someone ... Can anyone ... Please, help him?

He feels something on the back of his fifth wheel and suspension.

Optimus doesn't respond, pretending to be in resting mode. However, he is always alert. No matter how tired, he tries to be awake in between sleep cycles in case something happens.

That's how he noticed you approaching him, carrying a large plastic cover bigger than you. Dragging it and carelessly putting it over him.

He is curious but doesn't say anything.

"There you go, big guy."

You patted your hands and you finished covering him up.

"I don't know if you get cold but you can't never be too sure."

He sees you walk away, shivering a little as you enter your home once again.

A part of him wanted to answer your question. But he is left without words. Would you even care to listen to him? Care enough to listen to his long explanation about Cybertronian biology?

He wants to say so much. The archivist in him has so much knowledge to share, yet no one would listen.

"I don't get cold. At least not on these temperatures."

That would be the easy answer. The not-so-boring one.

But if given the time and patience, he could tell you all about the biology of it and the reason for it. About how their bodies were perfectly made to the image of Primus.

And you?

He wonders about the things you could share with him. The things he could learn from you.

You know the land better than him and have experienced things in this world that he has yet to experience ... or maybe never will.

He is so lonely. That's the truth of it all. He craves for a connection.

But of course, he won't allow it. Not to himself. Not ever.

At least, under the starry night, covered by a dirty tarpaulin, he can pretend that his worries no longer exist. As his only worry is the ache of his spark wondering if the stranger in the house could become what he needs.

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Ch.2: >>>

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/767425691778203648/the-darkest-hour?source=share

[junedenim]

still a trace

the heat to melt the cold

warnings: cheating, piv, handjob, blowjob, etc.

word count: 5.5k

You pat the snow off your coat. The ice is sticking to your gloves and your snow boots shuffle away at the doormat. Alex is somewhere in the house, maybe in the kitchen. You can hear the murmur of his music that muted your entrance. You're freezing but the house is warm. You slip off your shoes and roll your gloves into your coat pocket before hanging it on the rack. 

The tips of your fingers are frozen numb so you stick them under your armpits. You follow the trail of music into the kitchen where he stands cutting tomatoes at the counter, his back to you.

You think about sneaking up on him but he has a knife in his hand and it's better to stand in the archway and watch him than risk either of you getting cut. He hums to the music and there's a slight sway in his hips. He's wearing a ribbed sweater on which he's rolled up the sleeves. He taps his foot, sock-clad and fuzzy, on the tiled floors, where you can feel the chill through your socked feet.

It's not often you can look on at him unobtrusively. There are little slivers in the late night and early morning but you can rarely stare at him unknowingly with the lights still on. The last time you were able to be this observant was when you first met.

It was at a wedding. You'd never crossed paths before. He was close friends with the groom and you were a distant relative of the bride. Somehow that meant you ended up at the same table. You were lonely, your date ditching you, and sat beside Alex. You were drunk and he was good-looking. Then, he went up to the open bar and you stared and stared and stared. He came back, two drinks in his hand and a breath that smelled like whiskey, and you talked and laughed. You can't remember ever laughing that much even with alcohol.

At the end of the night, he offered to walk you to your hotel room. You were drunk. He was drunk. You had sex. Unplanned and quick and it was a mess. The whole thing was a mess. And now you're here watching him cook dinner.

He began to whistle to the music and that's when you had to laugh, covering your mouth with your hand but it proved no use. He turned around at the noise. "Ay! You surveilling me now?"

"I'm just admiring," you choke out in laughter. "Do you often whistle while you work?"

He shakes his head like he can't believe the sight. "Hush, you. How long have you been watching me?"

You shrug, arms crossed. "Only a few." He's smiling, deep and wide. It's coming home without actually being home. Or maybe this is home now? A place of comfort that has been your place for far longer than you want to admit.

"How long are you going to keep me waiting?" Alex asks.

You raise your eyebrows. "For what?"

He puckers his lips and taps his finger on his bottom lip.

"You could come here for that."

Alex points to the stove. "I gotta watch the pot." He stirs as the flame burns bright, blue ripples of fire.

You slowly walk with a small foot tap on each cold tile. He's impatient, taking a big lunge forward, and wrapping his left arm around your torso, the other still stirring the pot. It's the greeting kiss, deep and hard like always. A message of making up for all that lost time you've been separated for. 

Your arms are stuck between you two, squeezed between your chests. Your cold hands touch down and make him hiss at the frigidness. He pulls away, grabbing your hands. "We gotta warm you up, babe." He rubs his two warm hands over yours, sitting palm-to-palm. He holds them over the pot, the proximity to the stove fire provides heat. 

He lets go and you keep them steady there. One of his hands goes back to stirring and his other reaches up and pushes a chunk of loose hair—wet from the snow—behind your ear. "How was the walk over?"

"It's snowing," you simply say. You watch the pot, waiting for it to reach its boiling point.

Alex lightly chuckles. "I can tell. Dinner will be ready soon. You want some tea?"

You nod and take to watching him again. He reaches to the very top shelf, his body stretched, a fragment of his pale winter skin showing. It pleases you that you're familiar with the sight of his bare skin. It distresses you how much you long to touch.

He grabs your mug, hidden behind all the others. He grabs his mug from the front, a big A on it. The first time you slept over, he grabbed it and said, "It's A for Alex." It has always been easy to love him, that's what has scared you so much. His childish wisdom and his need to explain everything but the big things. The way he kisses you on the cheek when he walks by to the kettle. Especially that.

The mug is exactly what your hands need if you can't hold Alex's heated touch. You sip away, sitting at the kitchen table, watching him. You talk and he nods along that humming continuing softly. The glow in the room melts all the coldness away, everything that was dark and freezing is lost beneath this incandescent light.

He brings your plates over to the table and you grab the wine glasses. When you try to open the wine, he offers, "No, no, I can do it."

You giggle at his chivalry but insist, "I can uncork a bottle, Al." You pour each of you a glass and sit the bottle between the two of you. His chair is meant to be across from yours but he's moved it closer so your knees touch one another. There are hidden glances, even though here in his house just the two of you, there are no secrets to be kept.

"This is delicious," you compliment the dish. It's soothing going down your throat, the perfect relief. This whole evening heals an illness you didn't even know you had.

 He kisses the back of your hand. "Perfect. I was thinking maybe Friday you could come over again."

Your smile drops and it feels like the lights have dimmed slightly. Not in that sensual kind of way but that annoying office lighting that puts you to sleep. "I can't. You know."

Alex nods in perfect understanding. "Alright. You let me know."

You nod in return. He stands to clear the plates but you beat him into picking them up, demanding that you wash them. "You could, at least, let me clean."

He smirks. "Does that mean I get to watch you now?"

You shrug playfully. "Maybe." It lifts the demeanor of the room but not back to its former state.

The dishes are easy to clean. Dinner wasn't very messy but you take your time cleaning them. The water feels nice on your hands and you zone out at the sight of falling specks of snow. They stick to the window pane, slowly clumping together and growing in size. It's easy to get lost in them.

Whether intentional or not, Alex copies you, sneaking up behind you. His chair pushing out, his figure approaching you, and his feet hitting the ground all went unnoticed by you until his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your back to his chest. You jump at the touch. He chuckles into your neck. The vibrations are sent down your spine. "Did I scare you?"

"I just wandered off in my head," you explained. "Sorry."

His head sits on your shoulder, peppering the lightest kisses to your neck. "That's alright." His grip is tight on you, so fearful of you floating away. He reaches around you, shutting off the flow of water from the sink. "Come on, let's go to bed."

"What about dessert?" You ask seriously. It's a deflection thing. You don't care too much about whatever cookies he bought at the store. You just can't outrun your thoughts no matter how hard you push.

He pushes hard against you. "We have to work off dinner first," he jokes. You hate that you aren't laughing. He knows you, recognizes this shift in you, and knows exactly what to do. His hand brushes up your side and you have craved that touch so much. "Let's go to bed, love."

Alex pulls back, his touch gone leaving the cold to spread all through you. You look behind you, his back to you walking away. His hand touches the railing and he stalls for a moment at the bottom of the steps. You think he's about to look up but he doesn't, he just climbs up the stairs.

You're left in the kitchen, now silent and cold. You could stand here and think about your shame for another hundred years or you could join him upstairs in a warm bed. You wait, minutes pass by. You hear him shower all alone. You hear the shower shut off. You dry your hands on a towel and join him upstairs.

He's in bed, back against the headboard, a book in his hand. You wonder if he was actually reading it or if he's thinking too. He looks up in a slow rush, staring. Both of you, back-and-forth staring.

"You got me an extra blanket," you comment at the fluffy cotton on your side of the bed.

Alex looks down at it. His gaze is so tender that it breaks you in half. "God knows you'll need it."

You're standing in the doorway, not yet crossing the threshold. His eyes don't leave you, looking in tightly at you. It's always been the hardest and easiest thing to give yourself over to him. It's routine for you to stand here and eye that side of the bed. 

"You coming to bed?" It isn't sweetly said like it was downstairs. It's desperation now. A question that was lodged in his throat and is now lodged in you. You will never get rid of the sound of his voice, replaying every syllable in your head. 

You place your hand on the wall. Your eyes drift to him. His eyes steady, directly on you. It's unforgiving. You never feel like he is judging you but he's pleading for you, begging for something you can't fully give him. But you can go to bed with him and that's what you want. 

"Yeah. Just gonna brush my teeth first." You walk to the bathroom but look back first, attempting to alleviate the air, telling him, "Don't fall asleep on me."

"Promise," he swears.

And when you come back out, dressed for bed and clean breath, he's in the same place, reading. At the sight of you, he shuts the book, placing it on his nightstand. His hair has roughly dried from the shower and his eyes now stare brutally, requesting a different kind of bedding from you.

It's easy to slip under the covers into the fire below them. Nothing is suffocating about this smoke as he takes you into his hands bringing that heat back to your body accompanied by a kiss that shoots right through your core, down into your center. You get completely lost in each other and it's impossible to ignore this. You don't understand how anyone could ever reject this. Sometimes it feels like the reason your blood keeps flowing. 

His hand chases up your thigh and you could die. Die right here in this corner of the world, rot here with him. You'll long for him forever, even when you're reaching down into his pants and taking him into your hands. He warms you up and you cool him down and there's nothing that can make you feel like this ever again. 

In the halting of time, clothes escape both his body and yours. You rub him in your hand and he mouths at your boob, but it's clear the rabid need for more. The need to be inside one another, to feel the other completely.

He is your moon, bright and pulling you into him with the kind of gravity you can’t fight. The kind you never want to fight. You feel like waves as you rock against him. Your hands move up his back, his neck, are in his hair, and you make this desperate whining sound. He cradles you close and you hide in his neck. Sometimes the want overtakes the need, but this feels more like the latter. Alex moans, letting himself, not fighting it either. His grip tightens on you because you like that and he knows it, uses it, puts a palm on you, and strokes the column of your throat with his thumb as your head tilts back. He leans down to kiss your neck. Your pulse jumps and skips against his mouth. “Alex,” you breathe out. 

Alex looks down at her, his chest heaving, lips parted. You both like it like this when they’re face to face and you can feel all of him against you, skin warm and smooth. When he moves you onto your stomach you grip the sheets with this satisfied grin. Behind you now, sternum to curved spine, he grabs your hips and pushes inside of you. 

He trails his one hand up your chest to stroke your breast and you gasp. He is deliberately slow with every roll of his hips just to drive you crazy, to rile you up. Wants that, wants you begging, wants to take his time because being inside you is sacred even if fucking each other feels like a sin. 

He finds that spot that always untames you that only he has ever been able to find. It has you biting down on something to muffle the sounds you can’t help making. At that he changes the cadence, hands on your ass, all need, pulling you up and against him. You whimper and your head tilts when he moves to kiss your neck again, but it’s all tongue and teeth this time, biting and licking because if you want it rough and raw this way, he’ll give it to you. 

You shiver as his lips trail up to nip at your earlobe and suck at that secret place behind it. You moan out, "Fuck yes," and he’s very much inclined to agree. He gives you a hickey on your collarbone but you can't think about that. He keeps stroking your breasts and moving inside you until you crash in his arms. You feel like glass shattering and he cradles the broken pieces just as much of a wreck as you.

You both end up panting against the pillows. You shift to face him, shaking, goosebumps everywhere as he skims his palm from your thigh to your ribcage. Your mouth curves up into a shy, small smile. "You're pretty good at that."

"Yeah?" He asks softly, matching her expression. He moves closer until the tips of your noses are brushing. "I like being good for you. That's all I want."

You reach down to cover his hand with your own, palm pressed to your warm skin. He strokes his thumb over your smooth skin and your eyelids flutter shut with a more vulnerable kind of pleasure. "What time do I have to leave tomorrow?"

He sighs. You know he doesn't want to talk about it and you don't either but it's the unavoidable. It's the obstacle that has been standing in your way ever since you got together. Whatever "together" is. "She comes back at noon."

You turn onto your back and nod, your hair rustling against the pillow. "I'll leave at 10."

Alex looks over at you but your eyes remain up on the ceiling. "You don't have to leave so early."

You spare a glance he knows all too well. "Yeah, I do."

He falls onto his back and those touches from before are gone. It's stiff, raw, and cutting now. Nothing keeps the cold from entering. Everything quills the fire. "He's coming back tomorrow." You nod, ceiling stare. "That's why you can't come over Friday."

"Yeah."

It's empty and all the love that was made before is negated. This often happens after you do it the first time. The questioning pounds in each of your heads reflecting what you just did. The betrayal that felt so right and understandable a minute ago has given way to guilt. You've been feeling that more and more lately, swallowing up your insides. Maybe that's because he's coming back tomorrow.

"God," Alex breathes out. You aren't sure if he's praying or begging. It feels just the same. The hope of forgiveness that is drowned out by lying naked next to a man who isn't your husband. 

Husband. The word makes you dizzy and it hammers nails into your head. You feel like you're going to be sick but you don't move. It's too cold to move. It's overwhelming the overflowing you're feeling and something has to give so when the dam breaks, it's not unexpected. You cry. 

"The fuck am I doing?" You weep. You turn over into his pillow that smells like his girlfriend's shampoo and you cry your heart out. His thawing touch lands on your back, stroking it up and down but you can feel the shake of his hand. The panic in his movements. You aren't sure if it's over his girlfriend finding out or you leaving. You don't ever want to know the answer.

You take breaths, deep breaths. You steady out to soft cries and slowly lift your body, turning onto your back. He isn't looking at you. He's sitting up, uncomfortably hunched over with his head in his hands. "Can we not talk about that now?" His tone is unstable, muffled by his hands over his face.

"Then when?" It's been a ball that has been kicked down the road for years. You've fought about it but you're not going to be unmarried anytime soon but you don't want to stop this ever. The arguing died down when Alex got a girlfriend, something he didn't have when you first fucked. You can't help but think how cruel it is that she was brought into a relationship where her place was unknowingly already taken. But it's a topic Alex refuses to talk about. 

You saw her picture once on his desk and commented on how beautiful she was, a completely loving remark, no threat to it. He came over and shoved the picture in a drawer. You haven't seen any pictures of her since. 

Alex looks over at you, eyes red. The cruelty this has all brought to every party rips you up inside. Your husband, while vicious and brutish, has always looked after you and it eats you alive how ungrateful you've been for that. Alex's girlfriend, who excitedly came over and taught him how to cook, unknowingly did that for you, making every dish taste of shame now. And your poor Alex, who isn't even your Alex, who would have never even got a girlfriend if you just figured your shit out, sitting with his wet eyes and turbulent stare, storms breaking in them.

"Can't I just..." He's trying to find the words. He licks his lips like he'll be able to taste them there. "Can I just look at you tonight?"

You want to sit up. You want to touch him. But it would feel like you're torturing him if your hand grazes his cheek. As if you are bringing the ice inside and making him feel it, covering him in it. "You're looking at me now and you're crying."

He turns away, running his hands roughly through his hair. "I can't—this can't—it can't be the—it shouldn't be it." You sit up, unable to hold back, touching your hand to his bare shoulder. He turns back with a dysphoric look. "I'm not ending this and I'm certainly not ending it with you sobbing into my pillow. I deserve better than that. You," his finger taps hard on your exposed chest, "deserve better than that."

His touch, even the tip of his finger, brings you warmth you don't deserve. You bundle up the sheets pulling it over you, covering your breasts, covering your back, covering your shoulders. "We're lucky enough they haven't found out yet." Delusion, it's an easy solution.

His brows furrow hard. "Lucky?" He spits out like it's a toxin. "You've got a twisted mind." He stands up like he can't stand your touch. He walks away, standing at the foot of the bed, still naked but in the most hurtful way.

"What we're doing is twisted!" You argue back. "You can call it making love all you want, Alex, it's cheating! It's an affair and it's an ugly one."

He's pacing around the room like wearing a hole into the floor will wear one into his brain and give him a solution. "Maybe that's what you're doing but it's not what I'm doing."

"It's an affair whether you're married or not. We're cruel people and we shouldn't be doing this to them."

"What's done is done," he insists. "We can't change what we did."

You cross your eyebrows. "So, what's the point of stopping now? Alex," you shake your head in disbelief, "we can't go on like this forever."

"I know. I know." He ruffles his hair even more, a perfect mess.

"What did you plan on?"

He snaps his head over, finally looking at you in the eye. "I planned on more time. If I knew that I would have planned something..."

Your face softens. "What? A going away party?"

Alex lets out a wet chuckle, looking down at his feet, hands on his hips. "Don't make me laugh. Not now."

You frown. You're stuck. You want it back. Back before you got into your own mind. You want to go back to when you were drunk at a wedding reception and the cute guy next to you made you laugh and your husband was nowhere to be seen, not in your presence and not in your thoughts. "It was never going to be nice. Maybe it's best we just rip off the Band-Aid and leave this for what it was."

He shakes his head, biting his lip. You can tell he's trying not to cry. "Uh-uh, I'm not doing it. You can't make me."

"Alex—"

"I'm not letting you leave and never seeing you again."

"We'll see each other again."

"What? Across the room from each other at some baby shower. We're never going to talk again. You leave and we'll never talk, we'll never laugh, we'll never see each other again."

"We'll talk," you insist.

He scowls. "What? Like we're going to go on some double date. You're ridiculous."

"This is all ridiculous. These trysts, these hideouts. It's not a relationship, Alex—"

"Well, it's better than whatever else I'm going to get and you know that."

"She loves you."

"What? Like he loves you. Give me a fucking break. Don't lie to yourself to make it seem like you're doing a good thing. We already did the bad thing. Going back to him, not telling him, you're just making it worse."

You don't speak. You don't feel like you can. You hug your knees to your chest and duck down your head. You can't bear to look at him.

You feel him sit at the foot of the bed. His hands touch your feet over the covers. His thumb traces your ankle joint. He squeezes it repeatedly and then lets go. "Just give me a night, okay?" He whispers. You lift your head slightly, his brown eyes looking straight up into you. He begs for your touch. He's the only one who has ever been able to handle it. 

You lean forward, placing your hand on his chest. His hand lands on top of it, so fearful you'll remove it. But you flip your hand over and squeeze his warm one, intertwining your fingers. "Course." You brush back his hair and lean down with a kiss, one you hope stays permanently.

You touch him for real now, moving down his chest. Your noses brush, but you don’t kiss. Instead, you bow your head to take him into her mouth. He reaches up, grabbing a fistful of your hair in his grasp, rasping, "Fuck."

You suck him off for a little while, playing, teasing, tongue against his tip and moving it carefully, deliberately, trying to give everything you can while you still have the chance. He pulls your head off of him. You look up at him so clearly and he looks down at you, vision blurry.

You sit up and straddle him, sinking down onto him with a little whimper that has him almost losing it right off the fucking bat, gripping your waist and closing his eyes, heart pounding. When you roll your hips forward it’s too soon, he’s too close to the edge, and he moans when you keep rocking, can’t help it, feels his pulse everywhere and even inside her. 

You reach back and grip the headboard for leverage to ride him, and he digs his nails into your hips, feeling the heat of it, listening to the way your breath catches, the way you sound together. You keep lifting up and moving back down, taking him into you all over again and crying out when he finally finds the right angle, that spot that drives you crazy. "Yes," you moan, rolling your hips again, chasing it, your pace quickening. 

Alex, with more of a handle on himself, reaches up to grab your head and pulls you down to him. Kisses your neck raw while you set a slick rhythm. He puts his other hand between your legs to tease you, making you gasp and moan. When you come, you're stunned by it, like you've never had it so good before, except every other time you've done this.

He’s not done though, and he pushes you down so he can set the pace this time. You're all sensitive, singed nerves, and his every movement has your head tilting back. Your knees at his ribs, him braced over you and gripping your thigh, your eyes on his and your lip between your teeth. Alex winds you up again, fucking you deep and hard but there's a tenderness that has never been there before and you know you'll never feel again. You can feel that hole inside your heart opening up and you know you'll feel it every day from now. It burns like he took a cigarette to it and burned it out right on the flesh.

Your spine arches and you cry out, feeling the friction, and he keeps going until you're gripping the sheets and moaning his name. He comes, all erratic movements that match yours, everything hot and electric and alive. The lights are still burning for the last show.

Your heart is pounding. He can feel that. It takes you both a second to catch your breath. When Alex manages to lift his head it’s an exhaustive motion. He uses both hands to push your hair from your eyes and cradles you while he kisses you, soft, on her nose and chin and lips. Each one stings you. It all hurts so much.

But, like what usually happens after the second time you do it, he falls onto his back and wraps his arms around you. He smiles down, satiated, and you return it up at him. You hum as his mouth moves to the place between your brows. "I'm tired," you tell him.

He nods. "Let's go to bed." He shuts off the light for the last time.

In the morning, right after the sun rises, you wake up. He's not in bed, you can hear him rattling away in the bathroom. You slide your arms under your pillow, waiting for him, watching the bathroom door.

The door clicks open and he walks away, unaware of your gaze. He's slipped his pajama pants back on to combat the cold. His eyes are swollen from sleep and emotion. His hair is roughed up, puffs of fluff that you want to fall asleep with your hands in. This often happens in the morning. The regret of ending things but you're committed to making this goodbye even if you've said it before. But last night was raw and you feel like there's no chance of going back on that. You've severed it and you can't attempt to reattach it. 

"Quit watching me, alright," he says. He crawls back under the covers with you, his arms moving tight around your bare back.

"I can't help it," you say.

He smiles down at you, so close you can barely see the smile that spreads across his face. "Okay," he whispers. You're adjusting to the idea that if you ever do see him again, you're in for a lifetime of staring. 

And then it's the last time. It's gentle and calms that overwhelming dread. You hold on tight to him as he crawls over you. His kiss isn't rough, it's a soft touch. His hands are warm and tender and you wish to hold them tight in your hands but you let them scale your body instead.

You reach down and yank his pants down, he kicks them off the rest of the way. You play with him, feeling him get hard in your hand. His kiss travels down to your neck. His hands reach your stomach, one reaches down to your center. His fingers slip through your folds and your grip on him tightens making him groan. 

"I want you inside me," you tell him. "Okay?"

He nods, kissing your neck. He enters you slowly then all at once. It's tender, so tender it eats right through you, he chews away at you, taking bits for himself and you happily let him. He delicately moves, not wanting to rush it. He takes it step by step like he's having sex for the first time. 

He is delicate in every sense. His touch and his demeanor. You want to reach up and touch his face but you worry he'll shatter then you'll shatter. It leaves you chanting in your head. This is the last time. This is the last time.

You try to ignore it but you can't. It keeps pounding. He thrusts quicker into you, holding every inch of you and you feel like grains of sand escaping from his grasp. "Fuck," he mutters quietly. You're not sure if it's the sound of release or despair. 

You itch away at him as that bundle inside you bursts and you crash around him. It's too much. This is all too much and he's slipping. You can feel it. You hold his hands down on you, needing him to keep his heat there. He bucks into you once more before collapsing, deep in you.

He hides his face away and you can't let him do that. You need to look at him for as long as you can. You take his head in your hands and hold onto him. "I love you," he says. "I just need you to know that."

Your whole body feels choked up. You nod slowly and his hand rubs on your cheek. "I love you too," you whisper. If you speak any louder, you think your voice will ring in this room forever. You sit up slowly. "I should probably go. It's getting late."

He follows you. "Okay."

You turn around as you pull your underwear on. "Let me walk myself out. Okay?" The tears in your voice are evident. There's no ignoring it. "Please."

He nods, staying under the covers, in that heated glow. You slip the rest of your clothes on and lean down, not able to make eye contact with him and kiss him. "Sorry," you utter. There’s nothing left to say and you feel like you’ve said nothing.

Alex squeezes your hand but you can't look at him. You have to stare at the door. "Don't be. Get home safe."

He lets go of you and you're gone back into the snow, in that deep cold. There's no escaping it. 

She comes back at noon and it's different for Alex. Everything has been different in the hours since you've left and he wonders when he’ll feel normal again. If he'll ever be able to act properly again. He wonders if she's picked up on his different behavior just like he's wondered if she's ever noticed before.

If she's noticed her mug tucked on the top shelf behind all of the ones they share. The store-bought cookies went uneaten. How there are two dishes and two wine glasses from last night's dinner sitting on the drying rack. Does she smell you in their bedroom? He changed the sheets but he's now sleeping on the pillow with your scent. 

When they go to bed that night, he doesn't want to have sex, but she doesn't question it. She used to question it, but now she doesn't. He thinks she knows.

*

a/n: i quite like this. other than, you know, the whole affair thing.

[sapphicmsmarvel]

feysand x reader: the afterglow

set after getting together but you don't necessarily have to read that to understand this one!

under the cut bc its over 1K!

tw: a bit of anxiety

-After you guys officially mated, you knew the world was gonna take it weirdly. 

-There’s never been a triad bond that would be so well known. 

-To be honest, you were mostly nervous about how the inner circle would react. 

-You knew they loved the three of you dearly. But you also weren’t stupid and knew this was unconventional. You also knew you were freaking over nothing but alas, you were still anxious about it. 

-In the middle of the frenzy, Rhysand sent a message saying that you had accepted the triad bond and you three would be gone for a bit. 

-When you guys came back, it was a party. Mor had hung up a banner that said “congratulations!” There was a buffet table full of foods that Elain had clearly worked so hard over. 

-Cassian was…collecting coins from everyone?

“I bet that you’d be the first to make the first move.” He explained. 

Technically, he wasn’t wrong. It was you yelling at them that made the first move. 

“Did everyone know before we did?” you asked as he collected a few coins from Azriel. 

“Well, Rhysie isn’t subtle. Feyre was oblivious to your struggle just like she was to Rhysie-“

“Hey!” Feyre pouted. “You aren’t wrong, but hey!” 

You kissed her cheek. “And you!” Cassian pointed to you. “Are affectionate with everybody! Do you know how hard it was to convince Feyre and Rhysand that you actually liked them like that!” 

“I’m so sorry my reluctance to fuck our friends made your life harder.” You said dryly. 

He scoffed, “better be!” 

“Quit yelling at my wives, Cassian.” Rhysand said darkly, the alpha-asshole coming out. 

“Here we go.” Feyre muttered. 

“Made it two minutes this time.” Mor added. 

“Instead of two seconds.” Amren finished. 

Cassian gave you a smile that you had you wincing, because you knew what was coming. “Hey Y/N, want a ri-“ He didn’t get to finish because of the punch to his stomach from Rhys. 

“Welcome to the family.” Mor nudged you. “Even though you were already in.” 

“I’m just relieved I don't have to see Y/N pining anymore.” Nesta said from the doorframe. “Over twenty years of that bullshit.” 

You should’ve hit her harder when you were kids. 

Azriel, Lucien and Elain, like the sweethearts they were, just smiled without a sarcastic comment. 

-Your next worry was Nyx. How would you fit into his life? Would you be a stepmom or another mom? 

-You easily loved him more than anything, that was even before being mated to his parents. Now? Somehow you loved him more. 

-You were holding him one day when Rhysand sat down next to you on the porch swing. You were just enjoying the breeze with your-well it felt wrong to call him your son but you were his parents' wife? 

“How are two of my favorite living beings?” Rhysand said kissing you. 

“Good but what kind of greeting is that?” You chuckled. 

“I know he’s a person, but it’s weird to call him that. He’ll always be my baby.” He cooed and brushed back Nyx’s tuft of hair. 

Rhysand sat next to you, putting his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You leaned as much as you felt comfortable with Nyx in your arms. You didn’t like not being on your guard when you were holding him. He was precious. 

Rhysand kissed your temple, you felt peace. You were just missing one vital part. Feyre usually came home from the studio around this time. Rhysand and you had accidentally made it a tradition to sit out on the porch and wait for her. 

“Do you want kids?” Rhysand asked. “You don't have to answer now.” 

“I mean, I kinda have one now. Kind of late to say no.” You giggled and gestured to Nyx. “He may not be biologically mine. And I can be a stepmom or stay Auntie. Whatever’s the most comfortable with you and Fey. I don't want to overstep.” 

“Would….would you be one of his moms?” Rhys asked, you could tell he was incredibly nervous. 

“I would be honored.” You whispered, your gaze never leaving the baby's sleeping face. 

You missed the look of utter adoration that Rhys shot your way. 

Pretty soon, Feyre joined you guys on the porch coming home in paint splattered overalls and a paint stained face. She was glowing, you could tell how happy that studio made her. It made you incredibly happy. 

She leaned down to kiss Nyx, then you, then Rhys who pouted about being last. But he was okay with it, he loved your family so incredibly much. It kind of scared him what he’d do to protect it. 

Later that night, Feyre came up behind you in the mirror as you got ready for bed. She pressed her head against yours. Your cheeks lined up perfectly and were smushed together. Her arms were wrapped around your waist. 

“You are his mother, if that’s what you want to be”. She whispered. “I may have birthed him, but I would be honored to share the mom spot with you.”

“Fey, I just did my skincare, you can’t make me cry like this.” You said, your voice wobbly. She squeezed you tighter in response, her nose scrunching with her closed mouth smile, her eyes half closed and lips scrunched slightly. She kissed your temple and went back to Rhys. 

That was that. Rhysand was dad/daddy, Feyre was mom/mommy and you were mama. 

-The next thing on your list was how the court would see it. The Inner Circle doesn’t give a shit (which was to be expected) but the Court of Nightmares? That’s where you were worried. 

They didn’t take to Feyre that well, then Nyx. Now you. 

Rhys called you out on your bullshit one night while all of you were getting ready for bed. 

“What’s up with you? You’re more nervous going to the Court of Nightmares than you were before.”

“Well, we weren’t mated then.” You said back, you tried to avoid being snippy but your stress levels were high. 

Clearly, he knew you were being snarky because he gave you a raised brow and held his hands up in surrender. You sighed. “Ugh, baby I’m sorry.” You said. You set down your hair brush and crawled into his arms. 

His chest shook with restrained laughter. “Love, you’re allowed to be nervous-“ He was cut off by Feyre coming into the room. 

“Ooh, are we snuggling?” Feyre said. And with the excitement of a five year old she catapulted into bed.  

The three of you bounced and laughed. “I’m nervous about going to the Court of Nightmares.” You admitted, playing with a string on the blanket to avoid looking at Feyre. You could avoid Rhys’ gaze easily since you were sitting with your head laid against his chest and in between his legs. 

“Why?” Feyre brushed your hair behind your ears. 

“Because…” You made a helpless gesture. “It's really scary.”

“You’ve been there before?” Feyre asked. 

“Yeah well I wasn’t fucking the High Lord and Lady.” You sighed. 

“Okay, you aren’t just fucking us.” Rhysand squeezed your hip. “You’re our wife. What label do you want them to know you as? Consort?-“ 

“I’ll rip your dick off.” You growled. “Consorts aren’t treated with the respect they deserve.”

“Agreed.” He said. 

“Do you want political power?” Feyre asked with zero judgment. 

“You know that’s not why I married you two.” You grumbled. 

“But would you want it?” Rhysand pushed. His hands roaming over your skin, he knew how much the contact helped your anxiety. 

You shrugged. “It’d be a massive adjustment. However….I’d love to help people and actually have the power to do so. But there’s…”

“Hm?” Feyre continued to stroke your palm. 

“This is gonna sound bad but I don't mean it to be.”

Feyre smiled and based on the pulsing down the bond, Rhys was too. So you continued. “There’s no room for me to help rule.”

“Who says?” Feyre challenged. 

You sputtered and Rhys decided to take you out of your misery. 

“You know, there also wasn’t such a thing as High Lady when Feyre came into our lives.” He stroked down your back, his hands ending at your hips. 

“And?” You asked. 

“I rewrote that rule, and I’ll rewrite it again for you to be in it. You are our equal in every way and I refuse to let you be reduced to a ‘consort’ that is, if you want to be a High Lady.”

And that was it. The next day, the day you were supposed to head to the Court of Nightmares, you delayed it. Much to the confusion of your Inner Circle. 

You were sworn in as a second High Lady. 

How the Inner Circle found out was quite funny. Az had a feeling, Nesta and the Valkyries were happy for you. Mor and Amren just looked at Rhys with a secret High Lady? Again! Cassian used it as an excuse to celebrate that night so the group could ditch their Court of Nightmares persona. 

When Azriel introduced you, he said, “Rise for your High Lord Rhysand, Highy Lady Feyre and High Lady Y/N.”

The three of you walked in, you in the middle, Rhysand and Feyre on either side of you. 

You felt beautiful, respected. Even though you knew Keir would be a problem. 

You were alright with those problems, as long as you had your family with you.

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍

summary: opening up about your insecurities is a daunting thing, but suna lets you know you’re in good hands

pairing: suna rintarou x afab! reader

warnings:  smut/ comfort, minors dni; skin-related insecurities (acne, scars, bumps, etc) with comfort, unprotected sex (use condoms, don’t get a kid or a std), pet names (doll, pretty), marking, very wholesome spice if you can say that jsjsh, also very self indulgent; i wanted to name it ‘under my skin’ first, so now i have mirotic stuck in my head

happy birthday, rin!! ♡

haikyuu masterlist

Flickering colours illuminated your dimly lit living room in arrhythmic sequences, the voices of actors paired with underlying music bouncing around the apartment. Next to you, snuggled up under a cosy blanket with you, was your boyfriend, his eyes fixed on the TV but keeping you close to his side with an arm curled around your middle. 

Leaning against his sturdy body, you sunk further into the hoodie you had stolen from his side of the closet earlier and you inhaled a noseful of the scent clinging to it, a familiar mixture of Suna’s body wash and cologne. Underneath you, you could feel his muscles flex and relax with every breath and every laugh and, inevitably, your mind drifted from the scenes on the screen to the man next to you.

There was no doubt about it, when it came to boyfriends, you somehow managed to snatch up the price catch all for yourself. Suna was attentive, caring and funny; he always checked in on you, brought food when he knew you hadn’t eaten, sent you photos, voice messages and even flowers when he was away for work and generally pestered you to take care of yourself. 

Besides all of that, he was also, of course, ridiculously beautiful. Be it his well-built body showing through every outfit he wore, whether it was loungewear, work out clothes or a suit, or the defined features of his face, the sharp slant of his olive eyes only being the highlight, he was sure to garner attention. And he did. Quite a lot, actually. The fantaken videos of him sighted on the streets or the edits you scrolled past on your timeline definitely proved your point.

Still, Rin never made you feel unwanted, the opposite, really. You could be lazing around on the couch when Rin made it seem as if you were posing for the cover of Vogue, bending down to shower you in kisses as his hands wandered like he had no control over them. Or the way he’d sidle up behind you, leaning his weight onto you like an overgrown cat just to show you dumb videos while you go about what you were doing.

Your own mind, however, was not always as kind to you as your boyfriend.

Case and point, as you looked up at him and studied his sharp jaw and smooth skin, your thoughts started heading to a darker place, one you normally kept under tight lock and seal. Certainly, no matter how genuine his compliments were, there was no way he actually meant any of them, only trying to make you feel better about yourself. After all, what would someone like him see in someone like you? 

A tap to the tip of your nose pulled you back into reality, blinking to see bright green eyes sparkling down at you. The arm around your waist adjusted its grip, allowing you to turn towards him better but holding you close again the second you had settled.

“What are you thinking about? The film’s not that deep of a thinkpiece.” The lighthearted tone and tiny smirk playing around his lips were contrasted by the inquisitive raise of a brow, letting you know he was quite serious about your answer. “And it’d better not be anything stupid.”

“Oh you know,” you vaguely gestured towards the screen as you avoided his gaze, “there’s just no way they could’ve made it out of that building before the bomb went up. That was so much longer than 30 seconds.”

There was a soft touch against your cheek where calloused fingertips tilted your head back towards him, not forcibly but determined. You were more starkly made aware of the heat radiating from his body as he leant further into you, the arm around your back giving you no chance to wind yourself out of his proximity. Under other circumstances there would absolutely be no way you’d want to in the first place. But you knew Rin was sharp enough to deduce exactly where your mind had gone if you gave him only the faintest of clues and you really didn’t want to disrupt your movie night with your insecurities.

“Very cute, doll, but you never pay attention to realism. Besides,” the ends of his hair tickled your face as his lips ghosted the shell of your ear, “do you really think I didn’t notice you burning holes into the side of my head? If there’s something you want, you only need to ask.”

“That’s what you got from that, Rin?” You laughed, pushing his head from the crook of your neck with the pad of your forefinger. “Could it be that you're projecting your own thoughts onto me?”

“What else could I be thinking about when someone this pretty has been clinging to my side the entire evening?” Your boyfriend hummed the question thoughtfully before your centre of gravity shifted. A surprised gasp later, you found yourself in his lap with your knees bracketing his hips, courtesy of the muscles flexing against the small of your back where he kept you pinned to his front. “You can’t blame a guy for getting ideas when you’re this cute.”

“You’re such a horndog, Rin,” you giggled, melting into his hold as his large palms smoothed out the material of his sweats covering your thighs, the repetitive motion relaxing as you lost yourself in each other’s eyes, despite having done so a million times before.

“It’s all your fault, doll,” Suna murmured and your gaze automatically tracked the movement of his mouth as it formed the words. Inspired by you, he mirrored the action and then his lips were on yours.

The kiss was slow and unhurried, your lips moving languidly against each other, giving you all the time in the world to bury your fingers in the hair of his nape. The swipe of his tongue asking for entry was accompanied by firm hands grabbing at your hips and pulling you so flush against him, it was like he wanted to become one entity altogether. You happily parted your lips for him so your tongues could tangle together in the same rhythm of his arms moving you to grind down on him.

When his warm hands explored the bare skin under his hoodie, however, it was like someone had sounded the alarm bells in your head. Sure, you’d been intimate with Suna plenty of times, that was nothing new, but so far, you’d avoided any positions where your back would be on display or his hands could roam too freely across it. Up until this point, you’d put up excuse after excuse and the brunet had respected your wishes but slowly you were running out of fronts to put up without addressing the real issue.

Over time, you’d gotten used to Suna seeing your face with all blemishes and impurities on display, more out of necessity than free will in the beginning. You couldn’t hide your face from him forever after all. In typical Rin fashion, he’d been so gentle and reassuring about it, thanking you for putting your trust in him and nearly making you cry in the process. 

Your back, however, was an area you could cover up way easier and that was how you kept it. The thought of him seeing the redness and scars littering the expanse of the skin there, running his hands over it and feeling the bumpy texture where other people’s would be smooth, it made you shrink in on yourself. As you wrecked your brain for a new excuse and got ready to push his hands down to your hips again, he withdrew them from the hoodie himself, making the garment feel much too big on you as he took his warmth with him.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now,” Suna began, his voice calm as one hand settled back against your hip and the other cradled your cheek. Your fidgeting must have conveyed your discomfort, because he started drawing tiny circles onto your cheek bone, the callouses from years of playing volleyball contrasting the softness of his touch, making you subconsciously lean into the movement. “I didn’t know how to bring it up but at this point I feel like I need to know… Is there a reason you’re so reluctant to show me your back? And don’t say you don’t know what I’m talking about, I know you better than that.”

“Ah, so you noticed,” you meekly replied, swallowing hard around the words stuck in your throat. “What gave it away?”

“You’re not the best at lying to me, you know. It was pretty obvious you were making excuses for something else.” You felt like a cartoon character getting hit with an arrow through the stomach. “I just want to understand what’s putting you so on edge, so I can fix it. Whatever it is, you can tell me and I’ll work hard so you can trust me. But I won’t know what I did if you won’t tell me.”

“What you did?” You echoed incredibly. “Rin, you’ve done nothing wrong, more like the opposite, honestly. You’re like the guy out of anybody’s dreams, of course I trust you.”

“Then what is it? I don’t want to pressure you but I hate to see you uncomfortable,” Suna’s voice was soothing like a fireplace in winter as his finger smoothed out the furrow of your brows, silently telling you to take all the time you needed, he wouldn’t judge.

“It’s just– My back it’s so ugly,” you weakly admitted, opting to hide your face in the crook of his neck when holding eye contact became too painful. For a split second, Suna went as rigid as you had earlier before gingerly setting his hand down on the top of your back and running it lightly up and down to test your reaction. “Everyone has this perfect, smooth skin but mine is full of scarring and blemishes and I… I don’t want you to see how hideous I– it is.”

“Oh baby, that’s not true,” he soothed. “You are so stunning, I could never think you’re ugly.”

“No, you would,” you disagreed, shaking your head. “I already don’t know how you can say that with so much confidence, I don’t want to ultimately prove you wrong.”“So instead you just made the decision for me?” Ah, his signature deadpan response.

“Huh?”

“You are so convinced of your own perception you won’t even entertain the thought I could see something else entirely. I’m a lot of things but not a liar, doll. When I tell you you’re beautiful, I mean it.” To show he wasn’t taking offence at your words, he tapped the tip of your nose again when you emerged from your hiding spot to peer up at him. Bouncing you in his lap as if to jostle the negative thoughts from the forefront of your mind, mischief gleamed in his eyes. “Do you really think I’d put myself into this position just to make someone feel better? Usually, I only try to fuck unbelievably attractive people on my couch.”

“Oh my god, Rin! You’re such an idiot!” You were well aware your boyfriend had the tendency to be shamelessly blunt and it still made you smack your palms against his chest, though your shoulders did feel lighter at his very characteristic way of encouraging you. “Also we bought this couch together, so it’s mine as much as it’s yours.”

“The point still stands,” he nonchalantly answered, trailing one finger down the dip of your neck as his half-lidded eyes tracked its path before finding yours again. You knew that look well and it made your earlier arousal flare up again. “You’ll give me a chance to prove you wrong, won’t you, pretty? I promise you won’t regret it.”

You hesitated for a moment before mustering up all your courage. Suna had never betrayed the trust you placed in him and he’d not given you any reason to doubt him this time either. “Alright, fine.”

“Thank you.” You could feel his smile against your temple when he leaned forward to place a small peck there. “Hmm now where were we? Oh, that’s right.”

Long fingers splayed over the back of your head to tilt your head up so he could reconnect your lips once more. Just like before, the kiss started off slow and built in intensity until you were gasping for breath, a thread of a saliva connecting you until it broke from the rocking of your hips. Having foregone a bra that night, your nipples rubbed against the soft lining of the sweater, perking up from the friction.

This time, when his hands snuck under your clothes, you didn’t move to stop him, instead letting the warmth of his palms spread across your back. Slowly but steadily his touch rose higher, his fingertips nearly massaging the skin with the light pressure he was exerting. At the same time, his mouth moved south as if he wanted to meet his hands in the middle, trailing a hot path of kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw to just below your ear.

“The calluses of my hands, do they bother you?” A little disoriented by the low timbre of his voice and confused by the sudden question, you quickly made it known you liked them quite a lot, to which he chuckled. “See, at first, I was really insecure about it. Such rough hands handling something so precious, that didn’t seem right. But I learnt pretty quickly I was fussing about nothing, considering how you seem to love holding my hands or cumming all over my fingers.”

“That’s not a fair comparison,” you nearly whined, both at his choice of example and the way he bucked his hips up into yours. Your face felt as if it was set ablaze as his hands roamed and kneaded whatever part of skin they could find and your hips kept up a steady rhythm. “You have such nice hands, Rin.”“Something you made me aware of,” he smiled. When his lips reached the point where the collar of the hoodie wouldn't allow him to go any further, his hot breath fanned the expanse of your throat and his fingers played with the hem of his piece of clothing. “Let me do the same for you, yeah? Are you comfortable with taking this off?”

“Yeah,” you quietly affirmed, nodding your head at his request. With his help, the soft material slipped over your head and arms before being tossed somewhere next to the two of you and you fought hard to return your hands to his shoulders in lieu of covering up your bare body. 

“Shit, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing these,” Suna groaned, cupping your breasts with appreciative hands, forefingers and thumbs immediately working on rolling your pert nipples between them as the other digits fondled the surrounding area. “Look how perfect these look in my hands, like they were made to be held by me.”

A soft sigh of his name escaped you as you tilted your head back at the sensation of his warm hands contrasting with the temperature of the living room. It drew his attention back to the exposed column of your neck, focusing on the task of sucking a pulsing bruise against the spot that he knew made you weak. 

However, what you didn’t expect was him reaching around you to ghost his finger up the length of your spine, sending electricity right through you. Combined, the actions effortlessly pulled a gasp from you as you arched your back against his chest, which resulted in you pressing down hard against his bulge. His groan reverberated against your chest, a beautiful and husky sound which made you crave to hear more.

“Did that feel good? I bet it did,” Suna whispered against your feverish skin, fingers splaying out in the dip oy your back to keep you steady. “I can make you feel so much better, you know that. Just say the word.”

By now, your panties were probably soaked through as your clit pulsed with need, hips rocking in search for more friction but not getting enough to satisfy that itch inside of you. With how your heart was hammering against your ribcage, you could’ve bet Rin was able to feel it too, even through the material of his shirt. Balling the material in your fists you whimpered, “Rin, I need more, please.”

He grinned against your shoulder, pressing your chest tighter against his and grabbing the fat of your thigh with his free hand. Without any strain, he flipped you over so your back hit the couch cushions and he towered over your form, your legs still spread around his waist.

Running his hands down and back up the length of your legs, squeezing your thighs and calves appreciatively, his touch made goosebumps spread all across your body, no matter how seating it was on you. When his fingers reached the waistband of your sweatpants, playing with it as he leaned into your space, his heavy gaze met yours once more.

“Can I take these off?” No matter how clear it was you wanted this too, Suna would always ask. This night too, you willingly lay yourself in his hands as you lifted your hips to help him shimmy your pants off you, tossing them in the vague direction of the hoodie without taking his eyes off of you. He especially didn’t want to miss the string of slick sticking to your panties as they followed suit.

Drinking in the sight of your nude form, he traced a reverent finger over the seam where your legs met your hips, purposefully applying only a hint of pressure, knowing the featherlight touch was driving you positively insane. Slowly circling further in, he then caressed your outer lips covered in soft pubes, collecting your arousal with an experimental stroke over your slit but intentionally missing where you wanted him most.

“Rin, don’t tease,” you whined, squirming against the couch cushions.

“Sorry, doll, but you just look so pretty like this,” he mused, bright eyes showing not a hint of remorse. “I just have to indulge a little.”

And indulge he did. When he finally grazed his thumb over your neglected clit, his touch seemed to scorch, which only served to fuel the desire inside of you and it inevitably coaxed a wanton moan from you. Incredibly adept at reading you and keen to hear more of your sweet noises, Suna easily slid his middle finger into your hole, that at this point had been clenching around nothing. With how wet you were, he was met with no resistance at all and soon complied with your pleas for more and added his ring finger to the first.

“Shit, baby, you’re clinging to my fingers,” Suna voiced his thoughts as he smoothed one hand down the length of your leg once more to grab your ankle. Keeping up the steady pumps of his hand, curling his digits right into the spot that had your leg spasming in his hold, he turned his head to kiss the joint in his hold. However, he didn’t stop there. 

As if your leg was a fuse and he was the fire, Suna leisurely crept his affections higher, over your calves and past your knees, until you really felt ready to explode. Dimpling the flesh under his fingertips, he tightened the hold on your thigh so he could suck a myriad of hickeys on its expanse, unbothered by your incessant writhing. 

His hot breath fanned your core as his plush lips mapped out the juncture of your leg, paying careful attention to the area littered with stretch marks and covering the cause of some of your insecurities with his own marks. Like he wanted to claim your body as his, not that of the doubts in your mind. When he was satisfied with the blotches of red forming on your skin, he finally pulled back to admire his work.

“Have I been neglecting you lately?” Suna whispered, almost drowned out by the squelches of your pussy as he scissored his fingers. Looking up at you over the length of your heated body, he replaced his thumb with his kiss-swollen lips, placing a sweet peck against your clit and teasing it with the tip of his tongue. “Don’t worry, I’ll make up for it. You should never feel like this about yourself.”

“It’s not your fault, Rin,” you breathily reassured him only to be shushed by idle fingers dancing across your lower stomach, then precisely pressing down where his other hand was crooking up into.

“What kind of boyfriend lets his baby feel anything less than gorgeous?” Snaking one arm around your arched back, his long fingers covered a large part of it and held you steady against his chest as the coils in your stomach wound tighter and your toes curled at his sides. “I wish I could show you what I see. But since I can’t, I’ll have to settle for conveying it like this.”

His thumb had taken up its former spot again, resumed drawing firm figure eights on your clit and your nipples rubbed against the front of his shirt where Suna curled over you to reach your lips with his. Under the influence of his messy kiss, you felt like you were set ablaze as your boyfriend encouraged you to let go for him.

Someone might as well have replaced your blood with molten lava as your orgasm washed over you with fiery intensity and sweat pearled on your temple. Your arms slung around his body as your hands searched for whatever they could grab to hold on, be it the muscles of his shoulder or his dishevelled dark locks. Your lungs were already burning with the need for air but if you stopped kissing him, stopped vocalising your pleasure right for him to swallow it up, you thought you might die.

Suna kept up his ministrations until you were trembling like a candle in the wind before he even considered pulling his fingers from you. With half lidded eyes you watched as he brought the digits up to his mouth, cleaning up your mess with slightly exaggerated lewdness and moaning at your taste.

As he sat back up, he kept you flush against him and returned you to the position that started this all. Only this time your heightened sensitivity made you hyper aware of his arousal underneath you. 

“How are you feeling, pretty?” Nosing the crook of your neck lovingly, Suna nibbled on your salty skin where your quickened pulse thrummed underneath. His strong hands massaged your sides as you caught your breath and willed your chest to stop heaving. “Do you want to keep going?”

“You can’t do all of that and then deny me this,” you laughed breathlessly as you rolled your hips into his prominent bulge which caused him to inhale sharply. On top of everything, your boyfriend was also fucking hung, something his sweats didn’t hide in the slightest. “But I need you to take this off first.”

“Your wish is my command,” he chuckled, shrugging the shirt over his head unceremoniously, his biceps and triceps flexing in the process. While he busied himself with untangling himself from his pants, you ran an appreciative hand over the firm planes of his abs and up his pectorals. “Like what you see?”

“You know I do,” you mused, pressing a kiss against his jaw. “Got so lucky with you.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” Suna smiled, letting his hands roam over every dip and curve of your body as he urged you to straddle him again. Wasting no time, you started rocking yourself over his length, gasping every time his head caught your clit while you covered him in your arousal. After starving himself of stimulation earlier to focus entirely on you, your boyfriend shuddered at the contact. “You already feel so good doll, how am I supposed to last like this?”

“It’s okay, I want you to feel good too, Rin,” you stated but your movement was promptly stopped by two heavy hands on your hips. There was a subtle flush decorating his complexion and your heart skipped a beat. Was he really this affected just because of you? “As tempting as that sounds, tonight is all about you. No room to argue.” There was a tender finality in his tone, one that made clear he really wouldn’t budge on the topic, so you relented and melted into his hold. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Yes, this wasn’t the first time you’d been intimate with Suna, but it still felt like it. Every time he sunk his cock into you the stretch had you tossing your head back. From the way his thick tip slowly breached the tight ring of muscle, to the pleasant friction of his veins sliding against your walls and the satisfying feeling of being stuffed full, you believed you’d never get used to it.

“You always take me so well,” Suna panted as he bottomed out, fingers flexing against the pudge of your ass as he willed himself to patience to let you adjust to his girth, no matter how heavenly your warm cunt felt enveloping him. 

“Fuck Rin, I need you to move. Please, I–” Your brows were furrowed and you supported yourself on his chest as you started circling your hips against his while his cock pressed against all your sensitive spots so nicely.

And who was he to deny you when you asked so sweetly? 

Starting with slow and deliberate thrusts, you both knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long. While Suna normally prided himself on patience, even his was running thin by now and soon after, the rhythmic slapping of your thighs on his echoed around your apartment as he effortlessly moved you up and down on him, each thrust seemingly deeper as the previous one.

Not able to keep yourself upright for much longer, you slumped against his equally sweat-slicked chest and surrendered yourself completely to his actions, opting instead to claw at his back every time a particularly well aimed stroke had you clench your eyes shut. It was the best kind of torture and if you were exposed to it for too long you might actually go mad.

With your head nestled in the crook of his neck it gave Suna the perfect view down your back, admiring the way it bowed so graciously against his broad body or how your ass bounced with each slap of his thighs. How you were able to see anything but your beauty was something he just couldn't get behind; not because he was without insecurities but because no part of you could ever be a flaw in his eyes. Not when it made you who you were.

His fingers fluttered over the curve of your spine again, eliciting a more visceral reaction as your body shuddered and you pressed yourself tighter against him, trying to evade his searing touch while simultaneously craving more of it. Your whole body felt like you were boiling from the inside out, every part his scorching hands touched sizzling with nerves.

The constant grind of his pelvis against your clit had your walls gripping his length like a vice, making it increasingly harder for your boyfriend to pull out, let alone hold his own release back for much longer. Dipping his head down with a groan, his lips connected with your shoulder as his fingers kneaded and fondled wherever he could reach. Perhaps by the time you woke up tomorrow you wouldn’t see the blemishes you agonised over but the imprint of his fingers on your waist or the love bites littering your shoulder.

“If you don’t like these marks, I guess it’s on me to cover them with my own,” he mumbled lowly, perhaps more to himself than to you. Either way, the deep rumble of his voice so close to your ear followed by the sound of him reattaching his lips where he had left off shot down your spine like a lightning bolt. “You’re close, aren’t you? C’mon, you can do it. Show me how beautiful you are when you cream on my cock.”

The effect Suna’s voice and words had over you should maybe concern you. But you didn’t care as you came for the second time this night with a cry of his name on your lips, weightless as your boyfriend rode out your orgasm while chasing his own. Just as you came down from the aftershock of pleasure, Suna pushed inside of you as far as he could and painted your insides white.

For a few minutes, neither of you said anything, content to stay lost in the feeling of the other as two sets of hands explored the shared silhouette of your bodies. Kisses were exchanged or randomly placed wherever you could reach, Suna caressed your sides and you swept sweaty bangs out of his eyes.

“So,” Rin broke the comfortable silence, “are you still hellbent on arguing with me on this?”

Picking up his hint of playfulness, you decided to lean into it. “Hmm I dunno, the jury’s still out.”

“I thought you might say something like this,” he chuckled, pinching your side between his eyes, resulting in you yelping in surprise and sending him a half-hearted glare which was only returned in mischief. “Good thing I already planned to bend you over the back of the couch and paint your back. Bet you’d look lovely, even if you can’t get any more gorgeous than you already are. Same place and time tomorrow work for you?”

“You’re such an idiot, you know that?” You laughed at his shrugged ‘Might have mentioned it before’ before leaning up for a brief peck. “But sure, I’ll clear my schedule for you.”

After your movie night had effectively been rebranded into a shared bath Suna had drawn for you, you let the warm water rinse away most of the soreness you felt in the moment. Despite the tub being a rather snug fit with your professional athlete occupying a big chunk of it by himself, you let yourself relax against his chest.

Rin had taken it upon himself to gently scrub your body down for you, being extra careful with any of the spots he might have been a little rougher on. When it was time to dry off, he took his time to shower your back in kisses; every mark he left, every scar, every blemish, he covered them all equally in his affection and adoration. 

“I love you,” he murmured when his eyes met yours through the mirror and he tangled your fingers together. “I would never dream to change a single thing about you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back, like it was a secret only meant for his ears. “Thank you for being so patient with me.”

“It’s nothing you have to thank me for.” Suna brought your hand up to his lips to leave a lingering kiss there too. “I’m just doing what any good boyfriend should.”

Later in bed:

“How much did you have to hold back from saying ‘I’ve got your back’?”

“You have no idea.”

© the-travelling-witch 2024 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit; do not copy into an ai

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

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[lutiaskokopelli]

I have an issue with constantly getting distracted, so I got distracted from working by making a 100% customizable Pomodoro App to keep my future self from getting distracted. Have a Google Drive download link.

The Pomodoro technique, if you don't know it, is a discipline method for keeping track of when you are working and when you are taking breaks, notably through the use of a timer.

There are tons of apps centered around this, and yet after looking at so many of them, I somehow could not find one that would do the most basic thing I'd like to have for a study companion: change the background of the app so that yes, I do have a timer telling me to work harder, but I also have an image of my choice to cheer me up along with it.

So what did I do? Did I take the rational, reasonable path, to just suck it up and stick to one of the already existing apps even though it would mean saying no to having my adorable Hearthian OC sleep in a corner of my screen?

Or did I go the hyperfocused insane route of utter procrastination and learn a whole new programmation language from scratch just in order to get my frikkin baby to comfort me while I work?

Yeah, who could have guessed.

So! The Google Drive link I shared will let you download everything you need in order to run your own version of this little app, including a tutorial on how to customize it to suit your needs.

The first thing you will see after unzipping the archive is this:

The "ast" folder (standing for "assets") contains every image used by the app -- which means that you can change them as you please! I even gave you transparent versions of the buttons in the "Asset Creation Help" subfolder, in case you like the shapes but want to change the backgrounds.

You think that's cool? Oh, but the image assets are far from being the only thing you can change for this app's behavior! You can change EVERYTHING that this app is doing (which isn't much because it's literally just three different types of timers, and even then there are some trickier details with more coding than others (but I still give tips on how to handle those), but shush. Everything this app can do, you can customize to your heart's content).

How do you do that? Well, this is what you get when you right-click on the "Pomodoro.ps1" file:

The Pomodoro.ps1 file is the "app" itself, written in PowerShell code that I made as legible as I could make it. There is a whole tutorial in there, made easier to read if you right-click on this file's icon and choose the "Edit" option. Have a preview!

Through editing this file, you can then run a Pomodoro app from which you can have the window's appearance customized, from its size, opacity (if you want to still half-see what's sitting behind it), and start position on your screen (the window can be dragged around, but if you have a preferred position you can tell the app to always load it in that preferred spot right from the get go), to stuff like the custom messages you get whenever the timer progresses:

So, yeah. I made a little app meant to help with productivity. One out of many already out there, sure, and it's probably not as cool as many others (but I'll just remind you that three days ago I knew absolutely nothing about PowerShell as a whole, so- I guess that would be still a little impressive that I was able to make a working app like that at all? xD), but as far as I've looked, it's the only one that will let you have your favorite images keep you company while you use it.

I don't know whether anyone other than me will like it enough to use it, but just in case, it's here! Hope it's as easy(-ish) to customize as I made it out to be, or at least close enough.

PS: The version I use for my own personal choices uses some slightly different assets compared to the version I share in the .zip file on my Google Drive. This is because the version I share online solely uses official Outer Wilds art (while the version I made for myself notably uses one piece of OW fanart that I did not make myself, and it didn't sit right with me to share that piece uncredited, even in an edited form. If you are curious, this is the artwork in question).