Tumgik
#it really says something when i'm actually fond of most of if not all the characters of a new patch
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played the first Archon quest of 3.1 and so far it’s AMAZING
that being said please do not send full leaks of the second quest as I most likely won’t have time to play it until the weekend!!! (small hints are fine tho <33)
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writersdrug · 4 days
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I need, need need neeeeed to know who you would picture bar owner price with 😩 picturing bar owner price has me week in the knees. I need more, how would he be around the bar when he was there? Supporting, bossy,silly? The possibilities are endless. 🥰
I'm loving how people are requesting things for the rest of the 141!!
Bar Owner!Price isn't there every day, and most often not during the actual shift. He's there some mornings, already at his desk on the floor above the pub, setting up the next inventory order and dealing out everyone's tips before Simon climbs down from his flat on the third floor. They both grunt at each other, tired and in need of a hot breakfast and some tea.
He helps set up for the shift - he likes being in the kitchen with Soap. He feels bad the man is back there all by himself, even though he says he doesn't mind it. "I get to cuss 'n bitch all I want back 'ere, sir." Still, Price spends a majority of his time back there with him, prepping burger patties and making sure everything is stocked and ready. Gets on his case about updating the menu, but Soap insists the customers like it the way it is.
Price makes an appearance on the floor every now and then, opting to help run food or bartend on the busier nights. He checks in with the regulars, leaning his forearms on the bar with his sleeves rolled to his elbows, laughing and chatting with them and occasionally offering to refill their drinks. Simon grumbles quietly about him being in the way, but Price doesn't take it to heart.
He doesn't stay late. John isn't that old, but he likes to be back at home by a decent hour. One ruined sleep schedule and he's a shot for the rest of the week. He likes to get back to his flat, make himself a sandwich and pour himself some whiskey, and be on on his sofa and reading his book no later than ten in the evening. Routines have always been a part of his military career, and what can he say? Old habits really fo die hard.
Then you came along.
You didn't just rock Simon's world - you'd gotten Price, too. Though introductions could have been smoother (you nearly beat him with a keg when he came in through the back door and scared you), he's grown fond of you. First, as a hard worker and go-getter; then, as a pretty little waitress with a dazzling smile that likes to keep him on his toes. You love poking fun at him, calling him "bossman" or "barmaster" (doesn't make sense to him, since he's hardly behind the bar - but he finds it cute). You tease him for the way he runs your food, then gets stuck at the table for five minutes just chatting up the customers. You ask him things like, "Who do you prefer, Cardi B or Nicki Minaj?" And laugh when he just stares at you with a furrowed brow. He'll happily let you tease him for being an "old" man just to hear your laughter.
Then Simon sent that photo in the group chat, and Price felt something stir in his chest: looking at you, posing all prettily for your picture, working to push your little idea out there and bring in a crowd. He's impressed, but he's also intrigued. He's got his sights on you, and he's dying to figure out more about his waitress.
"'S the post making any headway?" He asks one night, leaning on the bar next to where you sit. Your tips are finished, money waded into the pocket of your apron as you scroll on your phone, sipping on a screwdriver.
"Kinda..." You mumble, a pout on your face, creasing the skin between your eyebrows. "People are seeing it, and there are a few likes, but no one's really engaging. Not sure if this will do well."
Price hums thoughtfully, looking at your lips while you stare at your screen. He's holding back the urge to lean in and take a whiff of your perfume, afraid it might seem just a bit too strange. "Have you tried promoting it?"
You look at him, laying your phone on the bar top. "Well... I could, but..." You wanted to finish with 'it would cost money'. But then, you'd be insinuating that you expected him to pay you. You could boost the post yourself, but you'd rather not spend money on something that might flop.
"'S there a problem?" Price asked, leaning in closer to you.
"I mean... promoting a post costs some money. Like, for it to be advertised to five hundred people, you'd pay around one fifty. And I think, depending on how far you wanted the post to reach - like, literally, how big of a geographic area - that would cost even more."
Price chuckles. "You do realize how much business you've brought in since you've joined the team, hmm?"
That makes your cheeks warm, pressing your lips into a line to avoid grinning like an idiot at the compliment. "I mean... sure..."
"Go upstairs to the office and get my wallet." he says, standing up from his seat at the bar.
You watch with a stupefied expression as he walks to the POS and prints some blank receipt paper. "You- you mean it? Are you sure?"
He sits on a barstool near the kitchen door. "Wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. Hurry up- before I change my mind."
You don't need to be told twice. You drop your phone onto the bar and bolt towards the stairs - you stop yourself, running back to where Price sits and hugging him from behind. He lets out a surprise grunt as you do your best to smother him.
"You're the best boss ever!" you squeal. Then, just like that - you're off to the office upstairs. He preens over the compliment as he hears you leaping two steps at a time.
"Be careful." he calls over his shoulder. He sits there a moment, staring at the paper in front of him. He's surprised he hadn't accidentally thrown you off of him purely out of instinct, but he can't say he isn't absolutely delighted by the hug. It lingers in his mind, his chest still remembering your arms around him. He shakes his head, reaching forward to grab a pen from behind the bar.
His eyes meet Simon's - the man is glaring daggers, his head framed by the window in the kitchen door, mask hanging from his ear. His lips are pulled down into quite possibly the angriest frown Price has ever seen. His nostrils flare as he exhales - Price wonders what sort of insults are flying through the bartender's head right now.
He glares right back. If Simon wants something, he'll give it to him. But he'll make him ask for it, like any normal human being. John isn't going to surrender just because Ghost is huffing and puffing, expecting his boss to back away from you just because he's stomping his foot and looking menacing. But how can he be sure that Simon really wants you, more than he thinks Price deserves you, if the lad won't say anything? It's only reasonable, right?
"If you want something, Simon, say something." Price calls out, never backing down from Simon's jealous gaze.
He huffs again and disappears from the kitchen window. Price can hear shuffling and banging, followed by Soap's irritated voice: "Oi, I got it! Get yourself outta my kitchen n' go your own shite, 'fore you break my stuff."
Price sighs, scribbling down some numbers on the paper in front of him. He'll cave, eventually.
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hiraya-rawr · 2 years
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— oh and by the way im married (zhongli) .
synopsis !! zhongli neglects to inform his friends that he's married.
contains !! they/them reader but referred to as wife, comedic dialogue
Z H O N G L I
Perhaps it's the fact that you've been married for centuries that informing others didn't seem to be a priority for Zhongli.
It wasn't obvious either. He had his day job and you had yours. To regular couples, the amount of distance you two spend would be a little strange, but time is something you have in abundance so it didn't really matter when you spend a few days apart doing your day jobs.
It was Hutao who brought it up the on the evening's Lantern Rite dinner.
"Aiyaya, it seems like everybody alive and dead has a date for this year's lantern rite."
"Hahaha! And here we are celebrating a feast with new and old friends. It doesn't sound like much of a loss to me." Venti laugjs, pouring himself a drink that threatens to overflow from his hand.
"I'm not saying it's a loss, I'm simply wondering wouldn't some of you want to spend the night with a special someone?" She smirks, eyes scanning the group. Chongyun coughs into his cup as Xiao averts his gaze from the troublemaker.
"If you're asking for my opinion, I'd say everyone here is quite special to me," Lumine smiles warmly before glancing at the two archons and yaksha, "I'm sure there's still time for dating in the future. We're not that old."
"Well. . ." Hutao turns to Zhongli. He raises a brow, placing down his cup.
"May I ask why you're staring at me, Director Hu?"
"No reason~ It's just, as your boss, of course I'm a little bit concerned. Aren't you wasting your youth by not going out on dates, mister Zhongli? I'm sure there's a line of Liyuens who would love to–"
A burst of laughter comes from the green bard. "Oh, him? On a Lantern Rite date with someone else? (Name) would surely kill him."
"(Name)?" Everyone questions.
"Huh? He didn't tell you?" Venti tilts his head.
Zhongli coughs, "Ah. . . Please don't be concerned about my dating life, Director Hu. After all, I am already married."
Silence.
A cup drops.
Tea spills (literally).
Then,
"Married?!" The restaurant shakes as Hutao and Lumine jolt upright, hands slamming the table.
"Married." Zhongli confirms.
"What! For how long? When? What's their name? Why have you never–"
Zhongli hushes, trying to calm his boss from jumping over the table. His face dusts a light pink, perhaps embarrassed by the whole ordeal.
"For a few. . . years now. As you know, they're (Name). And as for why I never mentioned my wife. . ." He glances at the crowd, ". . . I simply forgot."
"You. . . forgot," Xingqiu slowly repeats.
"Yes, it seems I've forgotten to inform everyone. Then again, is it not obvious that I'm a married man?"
Chongyun covers his face in his hands, processing the whole ordeal, "Thinking back. . . mister Zhongli always had a domestic kind of aura. It seems so obvious now."
"Wait, wait, wait! How come I didn't know about this? We work together almost everyday! And why does Venti know! Didn't you two just met! Do you even have a ring?" Hutao interjects, flabbergasted as Zhongli and Venti freezes.
In truth, he does have a ring. One he carved himself made of only the most precious of jade and metal. It has rested under his glove for centuries—
Under his glove also hides his draconic arms, golden veins against dark brown, almost scale-like skin. Proof of a entity greater than human.
"Ehe. . . about that," Venti nervously looks away, "I've actually. . . met his wife before!" He covers up, voice laced with enthusiasm.
"Yes, yes, my wife is quite fond of Mondstadt's songs. They've frequently visited the nation before."
"And you don't come along?" Xiangling asks.
"I don't."
The group blinks.
"And what about the ring? I never see you wear a wedding ring." Hutao narrows her eyes.
"That's because I don't wear it." He answers bluntly.
". . . and you never introduced them to us because. . .?" Lumine questions.
"Because . . . I haven't had the time to?"
Hutao rests back on her chair, her eyes glazed in judgment, "No offense mister Zhongli, but you seem like a terrible husband. If you don't get your act straight, I'd say your marriage won't last."
His jaw drops. Venti laughs.
|| ko-fi support / character m.list ||
~ bonus ~
"Darling, am I a terrible husband?"
"No? What makes you think that?"
"No reason. Although I believe we should try dating publicly."
tumblr has been deleting my last paragraphs why
//for some reason tumblr has been deleting my last lines in drafts so i have to type this so my last sentences wont get deleted
"No reason. But perhaps it's about time I show you off to the public more."
ko-fi support | character m.list
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chuluoyi · 7 months
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studying for dummies
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- fushiguro megumi x reader
you have an important exam coming up and are having a hard time to study. luckily, your boyfriend knows how to make you feel better
genre/warnings: college au, total fluff !!!
notes: i love writing college aus for megumi bc he never got the chance to in that cursed manga called jjk :') to the nonnie who asked for this, i knew i have to write it when i received your ask ehe <3
general masterlist
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"Why is this so hard..."
Megumi turned to you, sliding his headphones off with a questioning look when he heard you sigh once again, plopping your head down on the textbook. "What if I don't make it? What if I have to repeat a year? Ugh..."
Megumi continued to stare at you, with a flat expression. "So long as you study, you'll pass."
You threw him a sullen look, irked. "I know that! But studying itself is hard!"
The graduation exam was fast approaching and everyone in your grade was losing their head for a reason. Well, not your boyfriend though. While you were busy cramming your poor brain with ethics and physics in his apartment, Megumi was leisurely stuffing his ears with his headphones and catching up to the latest chapter of his favorite manga, without any care of the impending doom.
"You have to take breaks," he scolded then, truly meaning well. "You can't go on without food or rest. And don't overthink it, I'm sure you'll—"
"That's easy for you to say, Megumi—you're a natural genius," you interjected, crestfallen. The stress of failing several tryouts just got to you before you realized it. "Unlike you, I'm a dummy. I have to actually study."
Megumi remained quiet, watching as you turned back to your textbook, determined to give it another shot. Seeing your discouraged expression, something in his heart softened slightly.
And in that moment, he knew what he had to do to lift your spirits up.
He walked over to the little kitchen in his apartment to whip you some lunch, and throughout it all, you were still fixated on your studies, occasionally talking to yourself.
"Can Yuji even solve this problem...? I can take being called dumb but surely I can't be worse than him!"
Megumi found it amusing that you used his best friend as your benchmark for passing. Your way of expressing it brought out a low chuckle from him. How adorable.
Many were wondering what made him to date you—Fushiguro Megumi was always on the top of his class, stoic and indifferent, while you were just... you, a go-getter with cheerful personality that made up most of your academic shortcomings.
To Megumi, you were like a ball of sunshine that he didn't know he needed though. And now, wanted to protect.
While you were still lost in your thoughts and tangled up in physics concepts, he came back to you, gently patting your shoulder. "Hey, I made lunch. Want to join me?"
And needless to say, your eyes lit up with literal stars as you whipped your head towards him. "Yeah!"
Seeing you that excited made something inside Megumi soar. He had always been fond of your smiling face. Watching the fatigue melted a bit from you as you sat down in front of him, a subtle smile found its way onto his lips as well.
"Ooh, hotpot! Megumi, thank you!"
"Yeah, yeah..."
"Mmm! This is tasty!"
"Mm-hmm, have your fill."
You were giddy as you finished your lunch. It was evident that he had prepared the hotpot with your preferences in mind, choosing almost all of your favorite ingredients.
And you were feeling daring now that you knew that he was keeping you in his thoughts.
"Megumi, if I can score higher than 70% in that exam..." you started, smile gradually widening. "Can we celebrate it by going on an overnight trip to Kyushu afterwards? You know... just a little something to look forward to..."
Your boyfriend immediately fixed you with his unwavering gaze, even with his cheeks still filled with rice. But he didn't dwell on it long as he nodded lightly. "Sure."
"Really?!" you beamed, totally bursting with excitement. "Eeep! Megumi! You’re the best!"
How could he ever say no to you when your eyes were literally shimmering with glitters? Megumi never had it in him to. And hey, a trip for two to commemorate your graduation sounded so nice too, it was actually making him eager.
And so, with your tummy full and energy recharged, you enthusiastically redid your mock-up exam. And when you got 90% this time, Megumi actually initiated the first move and pulled you into his lap, giving you a light smooch on the cheek.
“Whoa...” you were so ready to tease him, poking his pink-tinted cheeks. “Do I get a kiss for every mock-up exam well done now?”
He huffed—flushing, turning away with slight frown. “To give you something to look forward to, remember?”
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violetrainbow412-blog · 9 months
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Hi!!! I just read your Wonka fics and they're all so sweet and I love them so much. I was wondering if I could request a certain fic? Here me out,,,,
So basically since there were only 6 bedrooms at the laundry place, the reader had their own room before Willy came but once he came the reader got switched to share rooms with Noodle since that's who they're closest too. The reader doesn't have their own bed for a few days until after they slowly(?) get closer to Willy, and build up the courage to walk to Willy's room in the middle of the night and ask to sleep with him. Nothing but sweet fluff.
Bonus points if Noodle catches them cuddling the next morning while they're asleep. :)))
Midnight Encounters [W. W]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 2.2k
note: first, I have to say that I LOVED this as soon as I read it. I'm honestly afraid I haven't done this wonderful idea justice, so whoever asked for this, I'm very grateful. This is my favorite so far!
taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]
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Scrubitt's wonderful building only had six rooms, and when a seventh guest (a forced worker, actually) arrived, you had to figure out a way to make it work. You and Noodle had no problem sharing a place due to your familiarity and that, of course, you were the youngest, to give the new laundry employee a bed of his own.
Mr. Wonka was a most peculiar man, who had gained your attention immediately and, as the days passed, also your affection. It was something like love at first sight, if there was such a thing, and you didn't know if it was due to his charismatic personality, his beauty, or his completely dreamy aura that had captivated you. Whatever it was, it was clear that every time he approached you let out a nervous sigh and he seemed to react the same way to your presence; somehow you knew he felt the same way, you didn't even know why, you just felt it. 
A good amount of time passed, enough for the two of you to share stories in the long hours you had to spend working, and trust was added to the list of things between you. You thought that the bond that was born between you could also be because you two were similar in age compared to the rest, who were younger or older. You suddenly started to enjoy chatting with him, he became the first one you looked for in the crowd and you also allowed him to help you from time to time, even if it was small things, just to be with him a little more. 
That was why that night, after thinking about it for so many hours, you slipped out of your shared bed with Noodle, ready to go out through the hallway in search of a little warmth to shelter you while you slept. Because if anything was true, it was that the little girl's room had always been colder than yours and you weren’t a person particularly fond of this condition. On the contrary, you would say that as soon as a little wind blew through the window your entire body was already shaking in protest, to the point that it had become unbearable to live through it.
You advanced automatically and when you reached the door of your old room there was a second of hesitation, where all the possible results for what you were about to do passed through your mind; some were more favorable than others, however, you knew that you wouldn't find out what was really going to happen until you dared to cross into the room. Would Willy be upset? you asked yourself. You just hoped you didn't scare him.
You carefully turned the knob, which had once been gold but was now only copper, and you were thankful that it didn't have a lock. There was definitely no time to chicken out, you knew when you watched the boy curled up on the bed move slightly, as if the air that had sneaked in through the door had bothered him.
You noticed that he was wearing only his light white shirt and a pair of pants, without shoes or socks. There was a certain vulnerability in the scene, almost like an invitation for you to take a couple of steps and simply slip into his arms and sleep peacefully. How would he feel? Would his skin be soft? Cozy? Would that grip be enough to help you get your long-awaited rest?
You closed the door behind you and the soft click it made was enough to wake the man, as if that had warned him of the intruder who had sneaked into his room. He sat bolt upright on the bed and squinted to peer through the darkness.
"Who is it?"
“It's me, Willy” you responded and upon hearing your voice he visibly relaxed. However, when he asked himself the reason for your nocturnal visit, he returned to alert state.
"What happened? Everything is alright?"
You had no valid reason to be there. Or maybe you had it, but it wasn't something you could explain to the man without exposing yourself, or exposing your feelings. Even if that were the case, you thought that it would sound absurd to confess to him that you were there just because you wanted to discover what it felt like to have him close to you, to feel his breath close to your face, to be sheltered by his body...
“Y/N?” he spoke again, probably because he thought you hadn't heard him the first time. He was afraid it was an emergency so you were there, not imagining anything of what was going through your head.
You finally found your voice, deep inside your chest, and were able to offer him an answer:
"I'm cold"
You honestly didn't know what else to say and deep down you hoped that was enough, but even so, Willy got up still sleepy and stumbled to reach you. 
“Oh, do you need a blanket?” he asked, while he could put his hands at your sides, holding your arms. His curls were messy and there were traces of sleep on his face. “Or would you prefer that I change rooms with you and Noodle? I wouldn't mind, although you should have told me before. If I had known, I could…”
"May I stay here?" you interrupted him. Your voice was a whisper in the darkness and he was still holding you, looking down at you with slight concern “With you?”
For a second he thought he was hearing you wrong and if he had heard correctly, he thought that perhaps he had not understood what you were trying to tell him. You looked disheveled and wore lighter clothing than usual, but he couldn't help but notice the innocence that bathed your face. You looked so pure and pretty that he felt dizzy, which only increased at the possibility that you were suggesting sleeping there; in the same bed… together.
“Huh… Are you sure?” he asked and instantly felt stupid. He just hoped it wouldn't scare you away.
“I guess I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, right?” you replied, a smile escaping your lips. Suddenly the thought of him not wanting this came to your mind, realizing that it was completely valid “But if you don't want…”
“No,” he murmured, taking his turn to interrupt you. “It's okay if you want to stay here, I don't mind. I also feel a little cold”
If that was just to make you feel better, it didn't matter, after all you knew from the look on you that he wanted to do this just as much as you did. Well, it was that and the way his hand moved up your arm until it reached your face, where he brushed away a chunk of your hair and then kindly caressed your cheek. It was a gentle, loving, and sincere touch. 
Without waiting any longer, you walked between the buckets that stopped the leaks and the man followed you obediently, until the two of you were sitting on the mattress. It was small and worn, with barely enough room for a body to move freely, there was a thin blanket over it and a pillow that covered the entire length of the headboard.
“You look tired,” you pointed out, feeling a slight guilt for having snatched him from his sleep.
“I am a little,” he replied, while he yawned and rubbed one eye as if he wanted to corroborate what he was saying.
You wanted to have the courage to grab his face and kiss him right there, but you didn't dare; it had been too much, you had to control your impulses or you would end up scaring the poor boy to death.
“We have to sleep, then”
Willy motioned for you to take the inside of the bed and when you were lying down he imitated you, forced by the lack of space to position himself a few centimeters from your entire body. You felt small, not physically, but metaphorically, and his attentive gaze and playful expression didn't help much.
"Are you comfortable?"
“Mjm,” you hummed affirmatively.
You felt him stir next to you and then he spread the blanket over you, hoping that would ease whatever had ailed you in the first place. One of his hands began to move down and up your arm in an attempt to give you a little more warmth, which worked perfectly after a few seconds. You felt so spoiled by him.
You were silent for a moment, in which he didn’t dare to look at you for fear that you could read in his expression how nervous he had become. He didn’t expect your visit and feared he was dreaming, although his hand touching you kept him certain that this wasn’t the case.
“I assume I was your first choice for this, was I?”
“You were my only option” you relieved, in a low voice. You weren't going to lie to him, if you had already managed to sneak between his sheets you wanted him to know that you were only thinking about him “I thought your arms would be warm. And I think I wasn’t wrong”
Almost as if your words had been an incentive, he closed the distance even more, placing one of his arms under your head so you could use it as a pillow and using the other to surround your body. Your face felt red and you thought you would die of embarrassment, but instead you just buried your head in his chest. He smelled like chocolate and soap.
“Hey,” he whispered suddenly and you pulled your head out of its comfortable spot to respond.
"Yeah?"
Again he surprised you when you felt that you received a fluffy kiss on the forehead before an answer, managing to add even more color to the skin of your cheeks.
“I just wanted to see your face. Rest"
Would it be possible not to when you were sheltered by such a sweet man, who held you with the care of holding a piece of porcelain? You highly doubted it, to be honest.
Your response was only your arm stretching out from the blanket that covered you to surround his waist and thus become practically fused with him. It didn't take you long to feel the full weight of fatigue settling on you and thanks to the rhythmic beat of his heart, you fell completely asleep, now without a single problem to be able to rest.
In your dreams you thought you heard his voice, but you couldn't make out what he was telling you, and at some point during the night you tangled your legs with his, thus eliminating any remains of the distance you had with him.
Very early in the morning Noodle soon noticed that someone was missing in bed, and although at first she thought you had just decided to get up a little early, she got worried when she went out to look for you and couldn't find you anywhere. The girl wondered if something had happened to you, if you had escaped or even if the mistress had locked you in the closet, just like she did with her. She thought that she had to tell someone about your absence and then she believed that the best candidate would be Willy, because she knew that he would share her concern and help her look for you without any complaints.
She crossed the hallway with her bare feet until she reached the boy's room and once there, she knocked on the door twice.
“Willy?” she called out to him, but there was no answer. That's why she knocked two more times “Willy? Are you there?"
Noodle waited a few seconds for the door to open, but it didn't, and that worried the girl again. What if he had disappeared too? She didn't want to waste time and to find out she turned the doorknob, expecting to see an empty room. But her surprise was great when she looked at what was really behind the door.
It was obvious that the blows had woken the man, so when he looked directly at her he had already put a finger to his mouth to tell her to keep quiet. The girl noticed that there was a bundle curled up next to him, holding him firmly and with its head buried in the crook of his neck, but she opened her eyes widely when she recognized the pattern of the pants that was under the sheet.
At least the problem of your whereabouts had been solved.
"Is…?"
“Yes, but she's asleep,” Willy responded quickly, whispering, “Be good and let her rest, okay? There is still a little while before the laundry opens.”
She nodded, confused and surprised, and waved goodbye to him, closing the door carefully. Noodle smiled to herself as she returned to her room, while she thought that, with any luck, from now on it would be someone else who would have to share the bed with you.
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jetii · 1 month
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On Impulse
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Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader
Words: 10,703
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! friends to lovers, kind of enemies to lovers? but in a goofy silly way, Tech's autism rizz, fluff, arguing as a form of flirting, smut, thigh riding, unprotected sex, fingering, semi-public sex, naked female clothed male
Summary: You've made it your personal mission to convince Tech that letting loose and taking risks for the sake of fun can be a good thing. During your day off on Coruscant, your efforts are unexpectedly rewarded.
A/N: There's no excuse for this I just love writing feral Tech. Also wow! 400 followers! Hello! Thanks for being here.
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Tech knows he can be a little... much.
It's not really his fault. The Kaminoans who designed him and his brothers didn't really think to account for things like social awareness, or tact, or "when not to talk." All they programmed him with was an insatiable thirst for information and a single-minded desire to be useful.
The others in the squad had been able to pick things up on the way, seeming to possess a natural sense for the sort of thing one says or does at any given time. Tech, though, just doesn't have that. He has a brain that's constantly running and processing data, and an all-consuming need to do something about it.
So he can't help it that his mouth tends to get away from him when he's excited. The information just comes pouring out.
His brothers call it a data dump.
The Kaminoans call it an unfortunate defect in his otherwise exceptional programming.
But you call it charming.
"And furthermore," Tech is ranting, following you as you walk through the halls of the Senate building, “the use of such a heavy gauge power coupling is inefficient and a waste of valuable resources which could be better spent in other areas. The new couplings are half the size, and can be manufactured on-planet instead of having to be shipped from across the galaxy."
"Not my fault if you were wrong, Tech," you toss over your shoulder at him, smirking as he splutters in offense.
"Wrong?!" he repeats, sounding aghast at the mere suggestion. "I don't think so."
You roll your eyes, but there's a fond smile on your lips. Tech is a genius, really, he is. But his ego is sometimes as big as his brain, and you love to wind him up a bit. 
He gets so flustered and huffy and cute when you do, and you can't resist. He's just too adorable not to tease a little. So you keep walking, even though you've long ago lost track of where you're actually going.
"I mean, I can admit when I'm wrong," you go on, slowing your pace just a bit. "It's a sign of a healthy psyche."
Tech scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, and you bite back a laugh. He's wearing his full armor, minus his helmet, and it only adds to the ridiculousness of the moment. The two of you are quite the duo, sticking out like a pair of sore thumbs among the throngs of politicians and Senators going about their daily business.
You'd thought this outing would be something fun, an opportunity to get Tech out of the Marauder for a bit. You know that he gets antsy, and he loves nothing more than a good lecture or an impromptu lesson. 
Plus, it was your off day, and you wanted to spend some time with him, since you knew he was only planning to hole up in his bunk and work on fixing up some broken circuit board or another. Not the most thrilling way to spend an afternoon.
And you can't even count the number of times you've come back to the Marauder, only to find him elbow-deep in some project, surrounded by scrap parts and wires and tools and completely oblivious to the world.
That's fine, though, really. It's just who he is, and you know better than to interrupt, but you can't deny you like it better when his brain is occupied with you instead.
The way he lights up when he gets the chance to talk about whatever is on his mind is endearing, and you love listening to him speak. You'll take Tech the lecturer over Tech the hermit any day.
So, you'd come to the Senate to let him geek out. One of your friends was an assistant to a Senator, and you'd asked if you could give Tech a tour. It was more of a chance for Tech to give you a tour, actually, because you were clueless, and he knew exactly where to go and what to see. But he doesn't know that.
What had started out as your attempt at tricking Tech into a date has quickly turned into another argument, but that's nothing new between the two of you.
It's become your routine, something you've done since the first time you met. You and Tech bickering about this and that, teasing and mocking each other but with a light in your eyes and a smile on your faces. Sometimes it feels like it's the only way the two of you communicate.
You can't even remember now what the first fight had been about. But you know that he had said something blunt and off-hand, and you'd gotten offended and given him a piece of your mind. He'd argued back, and the two of you had gone back and forth until you had run out of steam.
It's what always happens.
But you had seen a glimmer of something in Tech's eyes that day, and when he'd started arguing back, there had been a spark there. It wasn't boredom, or apathy. It was excitement, passion, a fire in him that you had never seen in anyone else before.
He had liked it.
You had, too.
And that's when the real games had started.
It's not the same now. You've gotten used to each other, and you can tell when he's trying to rile you up. He does the same thing every time. He'll say something rude, or condescending, and you'll shoot him a dirty look and a sharp comment. Then, he'll say something even more rude and condescending, and then, finally, you'll lose your temper, and the two of you will bicker and banter until the both of you have worked through whatever is bothering you.
It's kind of like therapy.
Or foreplay.
Maybe a little of both.
And now, here the two of you are, doing it again. You're wandering the halls, not even paying attention to where you're going anymore. You're far too distracted by the way Tech's brow is furrowing in concentration as he thinks of how to prove himself right, and the way his nose is wrinkling in irritation at your constant teasing.
You're both enjoying this a little too much.
"I assure you, my psyche is perfectly healthy," Tech is saying as he follows behind you, and you grin at him over your shoulder.
"I don't know, Tech," you taunt. "I can't help but notice how much you love being right. That sounds like a classic case of an inflated ego to me."
He scoffs.
"My ego is perfectly sized, thank you," he tells you, his tone haughty. "It's not my fault that my intelligence is far superior to the vast majority of beings in the galaxy."
"Oh, and humble, too," you add, rolling your eyes. "My mistake."
He ignores your quip, still following you down the corridor, his steps slowing just a bit.
"Where are we going, anyway?" he asks, peering at you curiously. "This isn't the way back to the hangar."
You smirk, stopping in your tracks and turning to face him. Tech nearly runs into you, stopping short at the last moment, and the two of you stand only inches apart, your face turned up to his. He's almost a full foot taller than you, and the way he's staring down at you makes your heart beat a little faster. He's not smiling, not really, but you can see the amusement in his eyes.
"We're not going back to the hangar," you inform him, and his expression changes to one of confusion.
"Then where are we going?"
You don't answer. Instead, you grab him by the wrist, pulling him after you as you continue walking. "I have something else in mind."
He stumbles after you, tripping over his own feet in his hurry to keep up with your sudden change of pace.
"Where are we going?" he repeats, his tone slightly higher than usual. He sounds flustered, and you can't help the little laugh that slips past your lips.
"You'll see," is all you say.
He grumbles, but follows along nonetheless, allowing you to tug him after you.
"We don't have time for detours," he tries.
"We made a detour for power couplings, didn't we?" you counter. "What's the difference?"
"A power coupling is a necessary component of the Marauder's hyperdrive," he protests. "A 'detour' is merely a waste of time."
"But the ones we had were just fine," you argue, still pulling him along.
"Just fine is not good enough," he replies. "I will prove it to you. Once I have the new couplings installed, I will run a simulation, and you will see how much more efficiently the Marauder will perform. You will admit that I was correct."
You can't help but laugh at his self-assurance.
"If you say so," you tease.
"I do say so," he counters. "I am a man of science, and I always back up my claims with evidence. If I say something is fact, it is a fact."
You snicker again, and Tech glares down at you.
"You can be rather vexing," he says with a sigh of resignation.
"I try."
He rolls his eyes, but you catch the hint of a smile on his lips.
"I'm sure you do," he mutters, and you bite back a grin.
You love teasing Tech, but not just him. You like doing it to the others, too, especially when they least expect it. You have a reputation for being sweet and innocent and nice, but the truth is, you can be just as devious as the rest of them when you want to be.
You just choose your targets more carefully, and Tech is the perfect victim.
He's so serious, and so uptight, and so easy to get worked up. It's a challenge, keeping up with him and his constant rants and lectures, but you're nothing if not determined, and you have a lot of fun doing it.
But your favorite is the way Tech will get so frustrated and worked up, and then, once he's exhausted himself, and he knows that you're not going to change your mind, he'll start grumbling. And pouting.
And it's just the cutest thing in the world.
You don't mean to upset him, or anything, but the way he puffs up like an angry bird when you challenge him is just adorable, and you can't help yourself. You just can't stop.
And if the way he's looking at you is any indication, he can't stop, either.
"Oh, come on, Tech," you chuckle. "Lighten up a bit. Today is supposed to be fun. We're on Coruscant, there's nothing dangerous happening, and the weather is actually nice for a change. Just try and enjoy yourself a little."
"I am enjoying myself," he argues.
"By arguing with me?" you counter.
Tech looks down at you, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. He doesn't look as irritated anymore, and there's a twinkle in his eyes that tells you that he's having a good time. He's enjoying himself, despite his protests, and he knows that you're onto him.
"Yes. I enjoy our debates," he answers simply. He pauses, then adds, "Though I would hardly consider it a debate. It is a mere fact that the new couplings are better than the old ones."
You roll your eyes, and Tech's lips twitch at the gesture. There's a warmth that spreads through your chest when you see him like this, happy and relaxed. You like seeing him smile, and you like it even more when it's because of you.
"Sure, sure," you placate him. "Whatever you say, Tech."
"That is what I say," he confirms, and you can't help but laugh.
"Okay, well, whatever."
"I win, then?"
"Fine," you sigh, pretending to be put out. "You win."
He smiles, smug and self-satisfied. "Of course I do."
You snort, rolling your eyes again, and he just keeps grinning. He looks so proud of himself, and you can't help but feel a surge of affection for him. You like this side of Tech, the one that's playful and teasing and fun. It's a side that not many people get to see, and you can't help but feel lucky that you're the one he shows it to. 
You like this, the two of you together, alone, no one around to hear your conversations or watch the way you look at each other. There's something intimate about it, something that makes your stomach flutter and your heart beat a little faster. 
It's different, when it's just the two of you. The arguments and banter are still there, but there's something else, too, something warm and gentle and special. You want to drag this moment out as long as possible, and you intend to.
"So, where are we going, then?" he asks, and you bite your lip, trying to hide your smirk.
"Nowhere," you say, and he gives you a puzzled look. "Or, well, nowhere interesting."
"Then why did we take the detour?" he asks, and you can hear the curiosity in his voice. He's not annoyed or angry or irritated. He's genuinely interested in what you're doing, and why. It makes you smile.
"Because, Tech," you explain, "sometimes, it's the journey that's important, not the destination."
He cocks his head to the side, considering your words.
"But if the destination is not important, then why bother going at all?" he asks. "What is the point of the journey, if not the destination?"
You can't help but laugh again. He's so literal sometimes. You've tried explaining the concept of "just because" to him, but it's a hard concept for him to grasp. There is no rhyme or reason to some things, no logic or scientific explanation. Some things just are. They're fun, or beautiful, or special. And sometimes, that's reason enough to do them.
You tell him as much, and Tech rolls his eyes. He doesn't believe you. He can't understand why you'd do something for no reason at all. But you know that he's listening. He's still following along with you, and there's no indication that he wants to leave.
"So you just wanted to wander around the Senate?" he asks, and you nod. "Why?"
"I don't know," you admit. "I just wanted to. And I thought it might be nice to do something together. You and me."
He looks at you for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. There's a softness to his features, and his eyes are warm behind his goggles. It's a look that you've only ever seen him give you.
Sometimes when Tech looks at you, you feel like a bug under a microscope, like he's dissecting and cataloguing your every move. It's unnerving, and it makes your stomach twist with anxiety. But sometimes, like right now, he looks at you like he's seeing something new and wonderful, like you're a mystery he's trying to solve.
You don't mind it so much when he looks at you like that.
"It is...nice," he admits after a moment, his voice quiet. "Being together."
He says the words carefully, almost hesitantly, and you can see a slight flush creeping up his cheeks underneath his goggles.
You smile at him.
"It is, isn't it?"
You're still holding onto his wrist, and you slide your hand down to meet his, your fingers intertwining with his own. Tech doesn't pull away, and he doesn't seem surprised, or uncomfortable. He just lets it happen, and a soft, shy smile appears on his lips, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand.
"I—"
Whatever Tech was about to say is cut off by a shout from behind him. Both of you jump, and Tech whips around to face the source of the sound. He steps in front of you, instinctively shielding you with his body, his free hand going to the blaster on his hip. You can feel his muscles tensing, and his grip on your hand tightens.
You peer over his shoulder and see a Corrie Guard, one of Fox's men, coming down the hall toward the two of you. Your blood runs cold.
"Hey!" he shouts. "This is a restricted area."
Tech glances at you over his shoulder. "It is?"
"Oops," you mutter back. "Guess we better get out of here."
The two of you turn and bolt down the hall. You can hear the guard's boots pounding behind you, and Tech's fingers are still interlaced with yours. Laughter is bubbling up inside of you, a mix of adrenaline and nervous energy. Tech lets out an amused huff, and the two of you turn the corner.
You nearly slam into another group of troopers, and Tech pulls you out of the way, keeping a firm grip on your hand. You barrel past the guards, who shout in alarm as they see the first guard chasing the two of you. 
It's chaos, and the laughter spills out of you as Tech drags you through the maze of halls and corridors. The sound of your feet and the guards' boots echoes off the walls, and Tech is pulling you along behind him, not letting go. You can see the smile on his face, even as he turns and yells at you.
"Why are they chasing us?!"
"No idea!" you shout back, laughing.
"We should not be doing this!"
"Too late!"
The two of you sprint through the building, twisting and turning down hallways, the sound of the guards' footsteps following close behind.
"Tech! Over here!"
There's a door at the end of the hall, and it's unguarded. The two of you make a beeline for it, and you're both panting by the time you reach it. Tech slams his hand against the access panel, and the door slides open. He shoves you inside, and you have to duck under his arm before he follows close behind.
"Where are we?!" he asks, looking around.
You shrug, breathless, and he looks at you incredulously.
"We're in a closet," he says, and you can't help but giggle.
The room is dark, empty, and quiet. It’s also extremely cramped, and there's barely enough space for the two of you. The closet is clearly built for a maintenance droid, and the shelves are lined with cleaning supplies.
It's a tight fit, and you're pressed close together, chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. Tech is forced to bend down toward you to avoid hitting his head on the shelves above you, and his nose is practically touching yours.
"This is not an ideal hiding place," he complains. “It's not defensible. If they find us here, we'll be trapped."
"I know." You sigh, looking up at him. "I'm not an idiot."
"But you are the one who pulled me in here," he points out.
"Well, we had to get out of sight, didn't we?" you argue. "They were right behind us."
He shakes his head, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You are unbelievable."
"I'll take that as a compliment," you say, and you can hear his amused huff.
"You would," he murmurs, his tone dry.
"What are they gonna do?" you ask, looking up at him with a smirk. "Arrest us? For taking a shortcut?"
"I don't know why you're being so difficult about this," he grumbles. “We—mmph!”
Your free hand clasps over his mouth, silencing him. Tech's eyes widen behind his goggles, and he blinks at you in surprise. His other hand is still holding yours, and the two of you are standing so close together that you can feel the warmth of his body through his armor.
"Quiet," you hiss, and he gives you a look that is part exasperation, part amusement.
You keep your hand over his mouth, and the two of you stand there in the dark, the only sounds the hum of the ventilation system and the muffled footsteps of the guards outside. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you stay as still as you can, and the feeling of Tech's lips beneath your palm is sending tingles down your spine.
You can feel his breath, warm and uneven, and you're suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of him that's touching you. Your fingers drag along the curve of his jaw, catching on the stubble there, and he shivers. It's barely noticeable, but you feel it, and you can't help the flush that creeps up your neck as you pull your hand away.
Tech's eyes are still wide, and his lips are parted, but he stays silent. He straightens, shifting a bit in the tight space, and you can feel his chest brush against yours. You can smell the leather of his armor, and the faint scent of grease and soap that lingers on his skin.
He's so close.
His leg is wedged between yours, and his body is radiating warmth. You're practically plastered to him, and every part of him that's touching you feels like it's burning. The hand that's holding yours is trembling, just a bit, and the closeness of the space, the heat, and the adrenaline from the chase are making your head spin. And you can't seem to stop staring at his mouth.
The voices in the hallway grow louder, and the two of you tense as you listen. They're right outside the door, and you suck in a sharp breath.
"Maybe they went the other way," someone is saying.
"They couldn't have gone far," another voice replies.
Tech's free hand comes up to rest on the shelf next to your head, bracing himself as he looms over you. His eyes are fixed on the door, and his brow is furrowed, a small frown on his face. You know he's probably running through a million different scenarios in his head, calculating the odds of each one, weighing the options and possible outcomes.
You know he's trying to figure out a way to get the two of you out of this, a plan, an escape route, something. Meanwhile, all you can seem to think about is how soft his lips look, and the way they had felt, warm and gentle against your hand.
"Let's just radio Fox and let him deal with it," a guard says. "I don't get paid enough to run around the Senate."
"We don't get paid at all," the other retorts.
"Exactly."
Tech adjusts his stance again, trying to get a better angle on the door. The motion presses his thigh harder between your legs, directly against your center. The touch sends a shock of arousal through you, and you have to bite your lip to keep from gasping aloud, praying he doesn't notice.
Of course, he does.
Tech snaps his head to look down at you, his eyes locking with yours, and you can see the surprise written all over his face. His lips part slightly, and his gaze flickers down to where your bodies are connected, then back up to your face.
You can see the moment realization dawns on him, and the way his pupils dilate behind his goggles is unmistakable.
"We'll search this side," someone is saying.
"They've gotta be around here somewhere."
You can barely hear them over the sound of your pulse pounding in your ears. You swallow thickly, and Tech's eyes dart to your throat, his lips parting a bit more. He looks a bit dazed, like he can't believe what just happened. Or maybe he can't believe the effect it's had on him.
You're having a hard time believing it yourself.
Tech is never one to be lost for words, or speechless, but now, he doesn't say a thing. His eyes are fixed on yours, and he's so close to you that you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes. He looks like he's about to say something, but then thinks better of it, his lips pressing together.
"Do you think they went upstairs?"
"Nah, it's too risky. They're probably still on this level."
Tech lets out a shaky sigh, his hand flexing against the shelf. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his eyes flutter closed before he takes a deep breath, and then his leg is moving up against you again, and this time, it's deliberate.
A small, choked gasp slips past your lips, your hand squeezing his, and Tech's eyes fly open. 
You know you should say something, or do something, but you can't seem to form words, or even a coherent thought, really. All you can focus on is the way his leg is rubbing against you, sending sparks of pleasure through your entire body with every minuscule twitch.
Tech's breath hitches, and his grip on the shelf tightens. He's watching your reaction closely, his eyes roaming over your face. He's testing you, you realize, seeing what you'll do, how you'll react.
You don't move, and the pressure against your core increases, just a little, but it's enough. A whimper escapes you, and Tech's nostrils flare. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and you're pretty sure you're the color of a sun-ripe pomfruit.
"Tech," you whisper, your voice coming out husky and breathless.
He doesn't say a word, his eyes boring into yours, his leg still moving, ever so slightly, against you. The guards are arguing now, but neither of you are paying attention. There's nothing but the two of you and this tiny, dark closet, and the friction that's building between you.
"Tech," you breathe again, a little louder this time.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips again, and his eyes flutter shut as he lets out a shaky breath. He's enjoying this, you realize. He's getting off on it. And the thought makes a fresh wave of arousal rush through you.
Tech is not usually an impulsive person. He's meticulous and precise and methodical. Everything he does is calculated, planned. He's not spontaneous, and he doesn't do things without thinking them through first. But right now, he's acting on instinct, and he doesn't seem to care about the consequences.
And the thought is making you feel things that are definitely not appropriate for this particular situation.
Another insistent brush against your core, and you're done for.
"Fuck," you whimper, your hips rolling forward into the contact. Your free hand shoots out and grabs his shoulder, giving you leverage as you press yourself harder against his thigh.
Tech makes a strangled sound, somewhere between a moan and a whimper, and his fingers curl harder around the edge of the shelf above you. The metal groans and bends under his grip.
The two of you are lost in a haze of pleasure and desire, your bodies moving together, desperately seeking more friction, more pressure, more contact. Tech is panting now, his breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps, and the sound is like music to your ears. He's always so in control, so put-together, but now, he's completely undone.
You can't stop staring at him, drinking in the sight of him, and his eyes are locked on yours, too. You're close, so close, and Tech must be able to tell because he's grinding his leg against you faster. The hand that was holding yours has moved to your hip, and he's pulling you closer, tighter, helping you grind against him.
His goggles are fogging up, and he's got that look on his face, the one he always gets when he's working on something. But this time, it's not the Marauder's circuitry or a busted datapad, it's you, and the realization makes your blood burn hot.
The voices outside the door are still going, but they're faint and distant, moving farther away, the words nothing but a meaningless buzz in the back of your mind. All that matters right now is the way Tech's thigh is rubbing against you, and the heat pooling in your core.
"Tech—"
Your words are cut off by a whimper, his name coming out like a plea, and you can't help the way your hips are jerking, seeking more contact. Your fingers are digging into his shoulder, and he's practically shaking, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps.
"I can't—" he gasps. "I can't think like this."
"Don't," you choke out, your voice trembling. "Don't think. Just...just..."
You're not even sure what you're asking him for, but you don't need to say anything else. He knows.
The pressure against your center increases, his leg rubbing harder, faster, and you can't hold back anymore. Your climax washes over you like a tidal wave, and your knees nearly give out, only Tech's firm grip on your hip holding you upright.
You barely make a sound before he's crushing his lips against yours, swallowing your moans and whimpers, his own muffled grunts echoing in your ears.
You cling to him, riding out the aftershocks of your release, and his mouth is hot and insistent against yours, his tongue stroking against yours. He's warm and soft and sweet, and he tastes like caf and something else that is distinctly Tech. His kisses are hungry, and his hands are roaming, and you're not sure if you're dreaming or if this is actually happening.
Tech kissing you. Tech, who has barely even touched you before today, who has avoided any and all physical contact with you since the moment you met, who has never, ever, shown any kind of interest in you, is kissing you, his hands and mouth and tongue setting your nerves on fire.
And all because of an impulsive idea, an accident.
You should stop. You know you should stop, but you can't bring yourself to.
"Tech—" you breathe, and his mouth moves to your jaw, kissing and licking and biting at the sensitive skin there. You're practically melting under his touch, your fingers carding through his hair, tugging gently. "Tech, the guards—"
"I know.”
He sounds just as wrecked as you do, his voice raw and husky, and you can't believe this is happening.
"We—"
Your words are cut off by his mouth again, and you're panting and writhing against him. His hands are on your ass, and he lifts you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. The shelves shake and rattle as he presses you against the wall, and the new position allows him to grind his codpiece against your heat, the feeling making you both groan into each other's mouths.
You've never wanted anything more than you want him right now, and the desperation in his kisses is telling you that he feels the same way.
"Tech," you whimper.
"I know," he breathes, his lips moving against yours.
The guards' voices are fading, growing quieter and more distant, but neither of you notice. You're both too lost in each other, in the feeling of finally, finally, giving in to the tension that's been building between you for weeks, months even.
"Tech—"
"I know," he says again, kissing you harder, deeper.
The guards' voices are gone, now, and the only sounds are the hum of the ventilation system, the creak of the shelves, and the wet, desperate noises of the two of you devouring each other.
"We have to—we can't—" you manage, and he pulls back, his mouth moving to your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses across your skin.
"I know," Tech breathes, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. "We can't. This is—"
His hips buck, and he presses himself harder against you, making you both moan.
"This is dangerous," he finishes, his mouth moving lower, to the sensitive spot just below your ear.
"It's wrong," you gasp, but your fingers are tangling in his hair, and you're tilting your head to give him better access. "We can't let anyone find out about this."
"No," he says, his teeth nipping at your throat. "No one can know. If the others found out, they'd never let us hear the end of it."
You shudder, and his hands are everywhere, roaming, grabbing, groping, and his lips are tracing patterns across your skin. You're not sure if he's trying to prove a point or not, but you can't stop the little gasps and moans that are falling from your mouth.
"What—what are we gonna tell them?" you ask, your voice breathless and shaky.
"I don't know," he groans, his hands sliding down to the backs of your thighs, squeezing hard. "I can't think."
You laugh, the sound coming out as a desperate, breathless thing. "Me either."
His mouth is on yours again, and he kisses you fiercely, hungrily, like he can't get enough. Your hands are in his hair, tugging and pulling and holding him to you, and his hips are bucking against yours, grinding his codpiece against you. It's not enough, and you need more, but you can't take it. You're too wound up, and the friction is delicious torture.
You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you. His eyes are wild, his pupils blown wide, and he looks like he's going to come apart at the seams.
"Tech," you gasp. "Tech, please."
"Yes?" he asks, his voice rough and strained.
"I want you," you admit. "I want this. I want you, right now."
He groans, his fingers digging into your hips, and his forehead drops to yours.
"I want this, too," he breathes, his voice barely a whisper.
You're clinging to him, and his mouth is on yours, and it's all a blur, a mess of tongues and teeth and moans. You're clawing at his armor, and he's tugging at your clothes, and there's barely any space left between the two of you. It's a frenzy, a frenetic energy, and you're both chasing the same thing, the same end goal.
Tech's fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants, and he tugs, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. His hand is fumbling, clumsy, and you know he's not used to this. He's not used to the intimacy, or the desperation, or the lack of control. He's not used to being this wound up, and it's showing.
It's cute.
He's cute.
He's so fucking cute, and you have no idea what you're going to do with him.
You don't know where it comes from, or who started it, but suddenly, you're both laughing, a mixture of nerves and excitement and relief. You're smiling, and he's smiling, and you're just so happy, and so overwhelmed, and you're not sure if you've ever been this happy before.
Tech gives up on the clasp, and instead, he tugs off his glove with his teeth and shoves his hand down the front of your pants, his bare skin hot against your flesh. His fingers slide between your folds, and the moment they meet the wetness there, you're both moaning.
You can feel his fingers stroking you, rubbing at your clit, and your hips jerk, bucking against him.
"You feel incredible," he murmurs, and the sound of his voice, all breathless and awestruck, sends a shiver down your spine.
"You—ah, fuck," you gasp, unable to continue as his fingers swirl over your sensitive bundle of nerves.
He smirks, and he looks so goddamn smug, so satisfied, and you're pretty sure you've never been more turned on in your life.
"Tech," you whine, and he chuckles, a low, deep sound that sends a tremor through your body.
"Is this good?" he asks, his voice teasing, and you can't help but giggle.
"You know it is," you manage, and he grins.
"I do," he says. "I just wanted to hear you say it."
He's still smirking, and you roll your eyes, even as he slips a finger inside of you. You're panting, and your hands are scrabbling at his chest plate, trying to find purchase. He's got you pinned, and you're practically hanging from him, your thighs locked around his waist.
"Tech," you gasp, and his hand is working, pumping in and out of you.
"I can't believe how wet you are," he mutters. "I've barely even touched you."
"I'm not usually like this," you argue. "It's—mm, fuck—it's just you."
He moans, his forehead dropping against yours. "You have no idea what that does to me."
"Show me," you reply, and his grip on your hip tightens, his fingers flexing against your skin.
"I will," he promises. "I will."
You can feel his breath on your face, hot and uneven, and his mouth is so close, his lips brushing against yours.
"Just—fuck, Tech, just fuck me," you plead. "Please."
He lets out a ragged groan as he pulls his hand away, and you nearly sob at the loss. You can feel him fumbling with his belt, his other hand holding you up, and he's cursing, his fingers shaking.
"Why—why are these damn things so—ugh!"
He finally manages to undo his belt, and it hits the floor with a thud, the ridiculous amount of pouches and gadgets clattering to the ground. The sound makes you laugh, and he shoots you a glare.
"Stop that," he chides. "This is a serious matter."
"I'm sorry," you gasp, barely able to contain your mirth. "It's just—the sound!"
He rolls his eyes, but his lips are twitching, and his fingers are back on his codpiece, fumbling with the clasps.
"I will never understand why you need so much equipment," you tease, and he scoffs.
"The amount of equipment I carry has nothing to do with my ability to—"
"Just take it off, Tech," you groan. "I'm dying here."
He glares at you, but the effect is ruined by the flush that's creeping up his neck. You can't help but smile at the sight.
"I'm trying," he huffs, "but I can't do anything when you're distracting me."
"Sorry," you apologize, biting your lip.
Tech gives you a look, but his attention is already back on his codpiece, and his fingers are flying over the clasps. He's got a look of intense concentration on his face, and he's practically vibrating with impatience. You undo the buttons on your shirt, tugging it down and exposing your chest, and Tech's gaze flickers over to you, his lips parting as his eyes travel down your body.
"That is not helping," he mutters, and you laugh, leaning back and bracing yourself against the shelves.
"Maybe if you had less equipment, it would be easier to get out of it," you tease, and he lets out an irritated huff.
"If I had less equipment, I wouldn't be able to do half the things I do."
"True," you concede, a grin on your face. "And then I wouldn't be nearly as interested in you."
He looks up at you, his eyes wide, and the corner of his mouth turns up in a half-smile.
"Are you trying to tell me something?" he asks, his voice soft and teasing.
"Maybe," you say, biting your lip.
He doesn't say anything, just stares at you, and his expression is so earnest and sincere that it makes your heart flutter. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, letting out a huff of laughter.
"You are," he says, his voice quiet. "You're telling me that you're interested in me."
"Well, duh," you laugh. "Why else would I have dragged you along today?"
He doesn't say anything, but you can see the flush on his cheeks darken.
"You're such a dork," you tease.
"And you are the most infuriating, confusing, aggravating, and fascinating person I've ever met," he replies as his eyes open again, his gaze locking with yours.
"That's one hell of a compliment."
"It's a fact."
You're not sure what to make of the sincerity in his tone. You're not sure what to make of any of this. It's not exactly what you'd planned, but you can't help the thrill that's running through you.
"I have no idea what I'm going to do with you," Tech says, and the fondness in his voice makes your heart swell. 
He finally gets his codpiece undone, and it falls to the floor with a clang. You can't help but glance down at his groin, and you see his erection straining against his blacks.
"I have a few ideas," you murmur, and he lets out a strangled laugh.
"So do I."
Tech sets you down on the floor, and your legs are shaky, but he keeps you steady, his hands on your hips. His hands hook into the waistband of your pants, and you can feel his knuckles brushing against your skin as he tugs them down. It’s an agonizingly slow process, and the anticipation is making your blood pound in your veins.
"Force," he hisses as your underwear sticks to your skin, the fabric clinging to your slick folds.
"You did this to me," you say, your voice trembling. "It's your fault."
"I'm willing to take the blame," he replies, his eyes locked on your cunt.
He pulls your pants down, and you step out of them, your shirt still hanging open. You're bare before him, and he's still fully dressed, the plastoid armor covering almost every inch of his skin. You're about to ask him to take something else off when his hands are on you again, gripping your ass and lifting you up.
You let out a startled yelp as he pins you against the wall, his hands spreading your thighs and holding them apart. You can feel the hard line of his cock pressing against you, separated only by the thin fabric of his blacks, and you can't stop the moan that spills from your lips.
"I want you so much," he breathes, his hips thrusting, the friction making you cry out. "I want this, so much, and it's—"
"Tech," you gasp. "Don't stop."
"I want to take my time," he says. "I want to do this properly. I want to do this right, but I can't, not right now."
"Tech," you plead. "It's okay."
He lets out a frustrated groan, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass.
"This isn't—we shouldn't—"
"Tech," you gasp. "It's okay."
You grab his face, forcing him to look at you, and his eyes are wild, frantic.
"We can take our time later," you whisper. "We can take all the time in the world, but right now, I need you, okay? I need you, and we don't have time."
He shudders, and his cock twitches against your heat, making you moan.
"We can take this slow, later," you promise, and his eyes search yours, looking for any hint of uncertainty. He must not find any, because he nods, and the tension drains from his body.
"Okay," he says, his voice shaky. "Okay."
His hips rock, and you whimper as his clothed erection slides between your folds, the friction making you tremble. You're practically drenched, and you can feel the slickness dripping down your thighs, soaking the front of his blacks. He's not doing any better, his cock throbbing and straining against the fabric.
"Fuck," he hisses.
"Yes, that," you groan.
“You’re impossible," he growls, his hand moving to pull down his blacks. His cock springs free, and the sight of it, thick and heavy and dripping, makes your mouth water.
"And you're taking too long," you shoot back, your fingers curling around his length.
He's hard and silky soft, and his skin is feverishly hot, and the feeling of him, so hard and desperate, makes you moan. You drag your fingers along his shaft, tracing the vein, and his hips buck. He's panting, his eyes fixed on your hand as you pump his cock, and you can feel his muscles twitching and trembling.
"I'm not going to last," he gasps.
"Good," you reply, guiding his cock toward your entrance. "I don't want you to."
You can feel the head of his cock brushing against your slit, and you both moan. He's leaking, and his pre-cum is mixing with your arousal, slicking him up and easing the way. You can feel him sliding through your folds, teasing you, and it's driving you wild.
He pushes forward, his hips jerking, and you both moan as the head of his cock slips inside. You’re about to tell him to keep going when he slams into you, his entire length sheathing itself in your cunt in one swift thrust. 
The cry that falls from your lips is muffled by Tech’s mouth as he captures yours, swallowing the sound. He's so big, and the sudden intrusion is almost painful, but the pleasure is overwhelming, and you cling to him, fingers scrambling for purchase on his shoulders.
His hands are bruising your thighs, and his hips are stuttering, the rhythm uneven and sloppy. There’s not much room to move, but he manages, thrusting shallowly, grinding his hips against yours.
"I'm sorry," he pants, his words slurring. "I'm not—fuck, I can't—"
"It's fine," you gasp. "It's fine, just—ah, Tech!"
Your back arches as he hits that spot inside of you, and he groans, his forehead dropping against yours. His goggles are pressing against your face, and you can feel the cold metal against your heated skin.
"You feel amazing," he pants, his hips rolling.
"You—you're not bad yourself," you gasp, and he laughs, a low, husky sound.
"Not bad? That's the best you can do?"
"You're ruining the moment," you groan, and he scoffs.
"Apologies," he says, his tone mocking. "What can I do to make it up to you?"
You roll your hips, and Tech grunts, his grip on your thighs tightening.
"You can start by fucking me properly," you breathe.
"As you wish."
His thrusts pick up speed, his hands moving to grip your ass, lifting you up and down, helping you bounce on his cock. The shelf behind you rattles, the items stacked on it shifting and wobbling, and Tech lets out a breathless huff of laughter.
"You're—Force, you're a hazard," he gasps, and you laugh, the sound morphing into a moan as he grinds against you.
"I've always wanted to say this," you pant, your nails scraping across his scalp, "shut the hell up and fuck me, Tech."
He growls, his pace picking up, and the angle of his thrusts changes, and suddenly, he's hitting that spot inside you again. Your orgasm is building, and you're teetering on the edge, your body thrumming with pleasure.
Tech is panting, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps, and his forehead is resting against yours, his lips brushing against your skin.
"Touch yourself,” he orders, his voice rough and hoarse. "I want to feel you come."
You comply, your hand slipping between your bodies, your fingers finding your clit. Your eyes flutter shut as the first jolt of pleasure hits you, and Tech lets out a choked groan.
"Look at me," he pleads, and you open your eyes, gazing up at him.
He looks utterly wrecked, his cheeks flushed, his mouth hanging open, his brow furrowed in concentration. He's gorgeous, and you can't believe this is actually happening.
Tech is fucking you, in a closet, while a bunch of Corries are patrolling the halls outside. It's the craziest, most insane, and most arousing thing that has ever happened to you. There's no doubt in your mind that you're going to be sore for a week, but it's totally worth it.
"You're so beautiful," he pants, his words slurring together. "You're so perfect, so tight, and Force, the sounds you're making—"
He cuts himself off with a groan as he drives into you, and you cry out, the pleasure building. He's babbling now, and it's not even coherent, just a stream of nonsense and curse words and half-formed sentences. He's saying something about how good you feel, and how much he's wanted this, and how he never thought he'd have this chance, and it's all a jumbled mess, but it's the sweetest thing you've ever heard.
His rhythm is erratic, his hips jerking, and his face is twisted with desperation and need. He's getting close, you can tell, and you're right there with him, teetering on the edge.
"Tech," you hiss, your hand speeding up, your fingers rubbing furiously at your clit. "Oh, fuck, Tech—"
He slams into you, the tip of his cock hitting that spot deep inside, and you shatter. You come hard, clenching around his cock, and you barely have time to clap a hand over your mouth before your orgasm crashes over you. You're biting down on your palm, your teeth leaving deep indents, and the sound that escapes your lips is muffled and raw.
"Oh," Tech gasps, his eyes fluttering closed. "You're going to make me—"
He doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. The tension inside of him snaps, and he thrusts into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt and grinding against you, forcing you to take every last inch of him. His cock twitches, and his whole body goes rigid as his orgasm hits him.
He doesn't make a sound as he comes, his lips parting and his mouth opening in a silent cry. His hips jerk, his movements stuttering and uneven, and you feel the bloom of warmth as he fills you, his release spilling out of you, dripping down his cock.
Finally, he slumps forward, his head dropping to rest on your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close, and he lets out a low, satisfied hum.
You can't stop the stupid grin that spreads across your face.
Tech is nuzzling at your neck, and you can feel him smiling, too, his lips pressed against your skin.
You're not sure how long the two of you stay like that, wrapped in each other's arms, breathing hard and basking in the afterglow. It feels like hours, but it's probably only a few minutes.
Tech pulls back, and you look up at him. He's gazing down at you, his expression soft and content. His goggles are crooked, and his hair is mussed, and his lips are swollen and red. You reach up, smoothing his hair down and straightening his goggles.
"Well," he starts, his tone dry despite his ragged breathing, "this has been a most enlightening day."
You burst out laughing, and he smirks, his nose bumping against yours.
"Nothing like a bit of field research to broaden the horizons," you tease.
"Indeed," he chuckles, his hand cupping your cheek.
You smile at him, and he smiles back, and the moment is so tender, so sweet, and you can't help but kiss him again. It's slow and lazy, and he sighs against your lips, his mouth warm and inviting. You could kiss him forever, and never get tired of it.
Finally, he pulls away, and you reluctantly let him go.
"I must admit," he says, his tone light, "that was far more satisfying than I'd imagined."
"Oh, you imagined it, did you?" you ask, and he smirks, a faint flush creeping across his cheeks.
"Perhaps once or twice," he confesses.
"Just once or twice?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Perhaps more," he amends, and the admission sends a thrill through you. “Though I had not anticipated anything quite so vigorous."
"I didn't know you had it in you," you tease. "I never would have guessed that you were such a deviant."
"Evidently you bring out a certain side of me," he replies. "One that I had not been aware of until today."
"Well, I'm happy to explore more sides of you, if you'd like," you murmur, and Tech hums.
"I would enjoy that.”
His lips brush against yours, and the kiss is soft and sweet, and your heart swells.
"But," he says, breaking the kiss and looking down at the floor.
You follow his gaze, and you both wince. Your pants are lying in a pile on the floor, along with your shirt, and Tech's codpiece and gloves. There are a few pieces of cleaning supplies strewn about, and your boots are on opposite ends of the closet. Tech's belt is laying on the ground, his pouches spilling out and his blasters resting haphazardly on the floor.
"We need to clean this up," he mutters.
"Yeah," you agree.
Neither of you move. You stay where you are, clinging to each other, and savoring the moment. It's not going to last forever, and you both know it. 
Once the two of you step out of this closet, things will change. Everything will change. But you can't find it in yourself to regret anything. Not the teasing, or the flirting, or the banter, or the argument, or the frantic, desperate sex. None of it.
And from the way Tech is looking at you, with a mixture of tenderness and awe and fondness, you know that he doesn't, either.
Eventually, though, Tech is the one to pull away. You both groan as he slides out of you, and the sound echoes through the tiny room. He sets you down gently, and your legs shake as you try to find your footing.
"Are you alright?" he asks, his eyes roaming over you, concern written all over his face.
"Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little…" you trail off as you glance down at yourself, taking in the sight of your bare thighs and the streaks of white that are slowly dribbling down them. "Uh, sticky."
"Yes," he agrees, his eyes glued to the mess between your legs. You watch his tongue flick out to lick his lips, and the hunger in his gaze is enough to make you blush.
"What?" you ask, and he blinks, seeming to snap out of his trance.
He flushes and looks away. "Nothing," he mutters, pulling his blacks up over his cock.
"Tech, come on," you say, a grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.
"I must admit the sight of you like this is rather... enticing," he says, his tone nonchalant. He's not looking at you, and he's pretending to straighten his armor, but you can see the pink flush on the back of his neck and the tips of his ears.
"Yeah?" you question, and his eyes flick up to meet yours.
"Yes," he murmurs, and the look he gives you makes your knees weak.
"Good to know,” you breathe. He raises an eyebrow at you, and you can't stop the grin that spreads across your face.
Tech shakes his head and picks up his belt, fastening it around his waist. He begins stuffing his pockets, and you watch him, amused. He's always so proper, so put together, and to see him like this, all riled up and horny, is an incredible sight.
"Are you just going to stand there?" he asks, eyeing you, and you grin.
"Maybe," you tease, and he rolls his eyes.
"I will leave you here."
"Sure, you will."
"I will," he insists, but the look in his eyes gives him away.
"Okay, okay," you chuckle. You grab a cloth and wipe off the worst of the mess, and Tech hands you your pants and underwear. You pull them on, wincing at the damp fabric, and Tech holds out your shirt.
"Thank you," you say, and he nods.
"Of course."
You take the shirt from him, and your fingers brush against his. His touch sends a shiver through you, and you can't resist the urge to lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek.
Tech stiffens, surprised by the gesture, but you see the corners of his lips quirk up in a smile.
"Now what was that for?" he asks, and you shrug.
"Do I need a reason?"
"I suppose not," he admits, a faint blush staining his cheeks.
You can't stop the smile that spreads across your face, and neither can he. You finish getting dressed, and the two of you straighten up as best you can. Tech smooths down his hair and adjusts his armor, and you wipe the smudges off his goggles with the cloth in his belt. He helps you button your shirt and tuck your hair back into place, and he looks like he's enjoying himself. 
You have a sneaking suspicion that he likes undressing you, and putting you back together again.
When he finishes, he presses a kiss to your forehead, and his lips linger on your skin.
"Thank you.”
"For what?" you ask, confused.
"For helping me see the value of a little spontaneity.” Tech gives you a small smile, and his eyes are warm. "I may have been...wrong, about today. It's been an illuminating experience, and I'm grateful for it."
The rush of affection you feel for him catches you off guard. He's such a dork, and he's so sincere, and the way he's looking at you makes your heart flutter.
You reach up and cup his face in your hands, pulling him down for a quick kiss. He lets out a startled sound, but he kisses you back, his lips gentle and warm.
"Who would've thought," you murmur as you pull away. "You have a healthy psyche after all."
Tech scoffs. "I told you—"
A shout echoes down the corridor, and the two of you freeze.
"They've gotta be around here somewhere," a voice calls.
"Shit," you whisper.
"Time to go," Tech replies, and the two of you burst into motion. You both dart to the door, and Tech cracks it open, peeking out.
"Ready?" he asks, and you nod, your cheeks still pink.
He pushes the door open, and you dash out. Tech's fingers curl around yours, and you follow him as he leads the way. Your feet slap against the floor, and your breath is coming in short, harsh gasps. Tech's hand is hot in yours, his grip firm, and his thumb rubs comforting circles into your palm.
You don't even bother trying to remember where you're going. You just follow him, trusting him to lead you to safety. You can hear the voices of the troopers echoing behind you, and their footsteps are growing louder.
"There!" a voice shouts, and Tech curses under his breath.
He tugs on your hand, pulling you around a corner. The two of you are sprinting now, and you're panting, and your heart is pounding. A bubble of laughter escapes your lips, and Tech shoots you a look, but the corners of his mouth are turned up in a smile.
"This is insane," he mutters, and you grin.
"It's fun," you correct.
"This is the last time I ever listen to one of your ideas.”
"We both know that's not true."
"Unbelievable," he sighs, shaking his head.
"I'm just saying," you argue, "we both enjoyed ourselves, didn't we?"
"Yes," he admits reluctantly. He suddenly pulls you to the left, ducking down a side corridor. "But next time, I choose the location."
"Next time, huh?"
"Yes, next time," he huffs.
Tech pulls you through another doorway, and the two of you race down a flight of stairs, then another, until you reach the ground floor. You can see the entrance up ahead, and you muster the last of your strength, putting everything you have into one final burst of speed.
The doors slide open, and the evening light streams in, bathing you both in its warm glow. Tech's fingers are still laced with yours, and he doesn't let go, not even as the two of you burst out of the building and onto the streets.
Tech tugs you to the right, and you follow, his hand warm and firm in yours. You can still hear the shouts of the Corries behind you, but they're getting fainter. You're both out of breath, and your hearts are racing, but the excitement is intoxicating.
Tech finally slows to a walk, and he glances over his shoulder, checking for any pursuers. He doesn't let go of your hand.
"That was certainly a memorable excursion," he remarks.
"Told you it would be fun," you grin.
"Yes, yes, you were right, and I was wrong," he concedes with a long-suffering sigh.
"Never gets old, hearing you say that."
"I can tell," he grumbles, but there's a smile playing on his lips.
The two of you continue on, your steps slow and leisurely, and the streets are quiet around you. It's later than you thought it would be, and there's no doubt the others are wondering where the two of you are. But you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when Tech is looking at you like that.
"So," you start, and Tech raises an eyebrow. "What do we do now?"
"Well," he replies, his voice taking on a thoughtful tone. "I suppose we should head back to the ship."
"Right. Of course." You try your best to keep the disappointment from your voice, but the way you deflate must give it away. Tech glances at you, his expression inscrutable, but there's a hint of a smirk on his lips.
"And then," he continues, his hand tightening around yours, "I'm going to need some help with the power couplings."
You blink and look up at him. His eyes are twinkling, and the corners of his mouth are turned up in a small smile.
"Oh, do you?" you ask, a smile tugging at the corner of your own mouth.
"Yes," he replies. He lets go of your hand and places his palm against your back, his thumb stroking your spine. "I'm afraid I need someone to help test them. Someone with a very discerning eye."
"I see," you murmur, biting your lip to keep from smiling. "I guess I could help."
He slows to a stop, and turns to face you. The evening sun is setting, and the light is catching in his dark brown eyes, making them glow golden. His hand is still on your back, and he pulls you closer, until the two of you are nearly touching.
His free hand tilts your chin up. "I'd appreciate it."
"And maybe after," you continue, a mischievous glint in your eye, "we could test the other parts of the ship."
"That's an excellent idea," Tech replies, and his fingers tighten in the fabric of your shirt. "We will need to make sure we are thorough. It wouldn't do to leave any part of the ship untested."
"No," you agree, a grin spreading across your face. "It would be irresponsible."
"Precisely."
Tech meets you halfway, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Your hands find his neck, and he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you. You can't stop the sigh that escapes you, and he swallows it, his mouth slanting over yours.
He breaks the kiss, and he's smiling, his cheeks flushed. Your hand comes up to cup his cheek, and his eyes flutter shut, his head tilting into your touch.
"So," you start, your thumb stroking his skin, "shall we head back to the ship?"
"After you, darling," he replies, his voice low. He presses one more kiss to your lips, and then he's stepping back, offering his arm.
You reach out to take it, and then you pause, considering. Your fingers drift over his bicep, and you look up at him, your eyes sparkling.
"Race you," you say, and then you take off, your footsteps echoing down the street.
Tech stares after you for a moment, before he shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Infuriating," he mutters, and he sets off after you. 
The two of you run, chasing each other through the streets of Coruscant, and the air is filled with your laughter. It's a beautiful night, and the city is alight with the glow of the sunset. There's a breeze blowing, and it rustles your hair, and the scent of flowers is in the air.
And there's a warm feeling in your chest, something bright and light and free, and you can't stop laughing.
It's impulsive, and foolish, and everything Tech would normally hate. But it's perfect, and as he chases after you, the smile on his face only widens.
Maybe there's something to be said for spontaneity, after all.
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genshin-obsessed · 10 months
Text
Him as a husband | Honkai Star Rail
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✩ ‒ It's been a while since I've wrriten anything for star rail, so I decided to make these cute lil hcs. I'm not branching out to the newest pretty boy yet, I don't know anything about him. I avoided saying Valentine’s Day cuz they're not on earth or whatever.
✩ ‒ I'm also trying to butter y'all up a little for something else I'm planning lmao
✩ ‒ Characters: Caelus, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Blade, Luocha
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✩ ‒ Caelus
He's not vocal about being married per se, but people usually know he's married. Other than the ring, he's very unresponsive to flirting. If anyone attempts to flirt with him, he'll just act like he doesn't get it. It makes things awkward and people often leave after.
He's very attentive to you. If you're having a bad day, he'll know pretty much immediately and will do anything and everything to get your mind off of it if you don't want to talk about it.
He loves to celebrate holidays for couples. They're super special days because every day with him is special, but he does go out of his way a little bit to surprise you with something. Could even be food, as long as you're surprised and smiling.
Cuddles are a must. You better hope your rooms are cold at night because he cuddles up to you every single time. He'll either lay his head on your chest or hug you against him, so sometimes it feels really hot in the morning.
Caelus prefers outdoor activities as dates, but isn't opposed to staying in. Movies, snacks, just being with one another isn't so bad. But going to a new planet and fighting baddies is also pretty enticing. More on that, Caelus has near heart attacks when you get hurt- like he saw you get hurt badly once and almost cried. Ok, no, he cried a little.
Children are up to you. He doesn't have much of a preference.
✩ ‒ Dan Heng
"Are you two married? You don't act like it." This has and always will confuse Dan Heng. What the hell does it mean? Is he supposed to be all over you or something? He has class. Though... he will hold your hand more often. Maybe the ring he'll get you for your anniversary might have a ginormous gem so it blinds everyone or something.
He's also pretty attentive to your needs and emotions. The second he thinks you're upset or hurt, he's at your side. He may or may not be a little clingy but he's so terrified of losing you. It's actually changed him for the better a little. He's less quiet, more expressive, and a lot more open to communication. That could also be due to his recent transformation...
He's not overly fond of those "couple days" because he's usually loving all year around. Why have a dedicated day? He has a hard time seeing the point in days like those.
Dates for Dan Heng are usually stay at home. He likes the more intimate activities at home- cuddling, watching movies, making out- yanno. Intimate.
Dan Heng likes kisses. Cheek kisses, neck kisses, shoulder kisses, hand kisses- don't matter. He loves them all. Usually done behind closed doors, Dan Heng never forgets to kiss you. Like, ever. He will also make up for lost kisses.
Um... he prefers no children, but it's something you can talk about later on.
✩ ‒ Jing Yuan
You have your hands full with this one. Everyone and their courier birds will know he's married to you. This man just can't stop talking about you. Like, he'll be receiving a report about something or other and just somehow manages to drop your name in the conversation. It's cute and all, but Jing Yuan, focus!
Sadly, he's a busy man. He comes home to you every single day, don't worry, but he does need to be away for most of the day. He's not the biggest fan of it and has suggested maybe trying to find a position for you to keep you close by. Other than being down right addicted to you, he worries because he's got enemies.
Jing Yuan DOES take time for those fancy couple days but they're not overly different from the usual dates. He used to make it all fancy, with giant bouquets of flowers and expensive jewelry, until he realized he was showering you with love on a specific day and not every day like he should. So, he's toned it down a little, but every now and then, he'll get you something fancy.
There isn't much time for dates. They usually include visiting him during his breaks and enjoying some tea together. Maybe spending time with Mimi or something. But on his days off, he tries really hard to set up something for you.
He kinda likes to hold you. There's nothing wrong with it, its just constant. Like, you're so cute and he just wants to hug you all the time. He does try to control himself in public to avoid making you uncomfortable.
Children? Why? Isn't Yanqing enough?
✩ ‒ Blade
Some people still have a hard time understanding that you actually married him. In your opinion, they're small minded and don't actually know Blade. Blade, himself, doesn't actually care what anyone else thinks. Though, they should mind their manners around you.
Blade can be attentive, but doesn't always know how to help. He's got his own problems, so he usually tries to use them as a reference point. When he feels depressed or lost, what would he do? He tries to help you that way. It doesn't always work, but it does help him learn more and more.
He'll forget any special "couple" days are coming up. Kafka or Silver Wolf mention it and he's always confused about them. He will try to get you something just so you don't feel left out. "Oh my husband didn't get me anything because he doesn't care about today". Never.
Blade likes cuddles, but they hurt. He's got a lot of wounds on his body so he can't hold you the way he likes. Not to mention, the mara, his personal discomfort, lack of understanding. You assure him that it's ok, but he still feels guilty often. You deserve the world, but he can barely give you himself. He does try to hold your hand a lot. You both share the same bed and he sleep extremely close.
There's not many outdoor dates with him other than going on missions which aren't dates. Usually, you two train together and just spend time with one another. Blade is willing to attend an event with you... but he's attached to you. He doesn't know anyone there.
No children. He'd be a terrible dad, sorry.
✩ ‒ Luocha
Now aren't you two an interesting couple? Luocha has a way with words. He'll let potential flirters know he's married way before they can even start flirting with him. He won't even give them the time of day, especially if they're disrespectful toward you.
Of course he's attentive. He's great at recognizing your emotions and understanding what may or may not make it worse. For example, if he attends an event, he'll know what type of people might be too forward for you. Or may know when someone is beginning to make you upset.
Not a fan of those "couple days". He literally rolls his eyes at them, like why would he hold himself back to let it all out on that day? He's all over you, every day. BUT! He does get you a flower or a small box of chocolates... or something else in the bedroom. Idk.
Luocha likes to schedule dates per week so that you can clear up time for them. Just because you have a day off doesn’t mean it needs to be a date night. Maybe you want that day to yourself, who knows? He likes to find a day or two within the week dedicated to actually going out to a restaurant, a picnic, maybe fighting some baddies- who knows. Whatever works for both of y’all.
Luocha likes being close to you, whatever that means to you. He can hold you, hold your hand, just sit close by. Generally, he finds peace around you, so it doesn't matter what you two are doing as long as he can be close to you.
Uhh kids? Are you sure?
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juniperdugong · 3 months
Text
Their favorite place to kiss you
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Scoups Your hands. More specifically your knuckles whenever he remembers he's holding your hand in his. Placing a peck upon each knuckle while trying to catch your eyes, this always ends with an actual kiss though. Or in the car, I always imagine that he's holding your hand while driving stick shift, intertwined at all times unless you want him to make a scene about you not loving him. At every stoplight, he's pressing his lips against the back of your hand like it's an instinct. Ugh, he would drive me crazy.
Jeonghan He's a classic type of man opting for a quick smooch to your cheek in haste and then looking away like nothing happened. Ever the trickster even in love. Whenever you catch him in the act though he's a giggling mess. You might not notice it but he seems particularly fond of acts of affection when you're smiling. What can he say? When you smile so brightly and your cheeks puff out it's like a drug to him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Joshua Your nose. Another one who tries to catch you off guard but unlike Jeonghan he always fails because he's trying to catch your nose rather than any other part of you. The slight scrunch gets him weak in the knees from cuteness so of course it's his favorite. It's also partially because of how you look as he does this, your eyes crossing as he's coming towards you. "You look dumb but in a cute way", he tries to explain not understanding how you can't see what he sees.
Jun He's a tad awkward in his tastes I imagine, so I feel like the outer corner of your eye is his cup of tea. He doesn't really have an explanation himself but maybe it's because everytime he kisses you there you immediately focus your attention on him. Whether that's in confusion or shock he doesn't care as long as you're looking at him. I feel like he's a firm believer that the eyes are the windows to the soul so being able to hold your gaze is like looking at heaven, that is to say, he thinks you are heaven.
Hoshi This dude is pretty straightforward with affection so your lips are always gonna do it for him. He's always looking for a moment to trap you in a kiss no matter the situation. You could be talking about the most important thing in the world and this man is looking for an opening before bombarding you with his lips and then nonchalantly going back into the conversation. He doesn't see any issue with it, in fact, he thinks it's the most proper way to show you his love.
Wonwoo Forehead all day! He doesn't show affection all that often but when he does it's discreetly and quickly leaving chaste kisses on your forehead before bed, when you're focusing on work, or pretty much whenever you aren't paying attention. You learn after a bit that acknowledging his affection makes him more shy about it so you've gotten in the habit of giving little to no reaction. (The hardest thing in the world because he's the cutest tbh)
Woozi He's going for the corner of your lips. He isn't forward enough to give you a full kiss all the time nor does he really feel the need for that most of the time. He isn't one to show affection much either but it doesn't mean he shies away from it, it's just not something he thinks about doing often since he knows that you know that he loves you completely and fully. It may seem half-hearted to some but to him, a kiss on the corner of your lips means "I'm here and I love you".
Minghao Hao prefers hugs to kisses in my opinion. But when he does kiss you it is often on your shoulders. Whenever he's got you entangled in his arms he's leaving tender kisses along your shoulders, TRUST. In line and he's back hugging you? Kisses. A hug once he's gotten back from tour? Kisses. Cuddled up in bed and completely tangled in each other? Kisses. It's the only place he's willing to leave multiple kisses without feeling like it's too much PDA.
DK This man. I don't know how to tell you this. Literally everywhere and anywhere. As long as it's you he's willing to kiss even the soles of your feet (not in a weird way he swears). I could go on and on about the way he would kiss your eyelids, your stomach, the inside of your wrist, all in the name of loving you completely and wholly with his entire being. Not afraid of affection in the slightest, he's always clinging to you. Swears up and down that with every kiss he falls more in love.
Mingyu Tippy top of your head. Listen listen listen...as much as I would love to subvert expectations with Mingyu I simply cannot imagine a more perfect scene than this man kissing your head. He does it without even realizing honestly. Feels the most natural to leave a gentle kiss there. Why can I so clearly imagine him sniffing your hair too? Not in a weird way but in the way that people like to smell babies' heads...okay maybe that's weird BUT it's very endearing coming from him. He just likes your scent so much. (Also, if you're short enough, he'll probably rest his head on top of yours)
Seungkwan Dudes a romantic and he's going for the jawline. It catches you off guard and it's sensual enough to mean something but not sensual enough to mean something if you know what I'm saying. He doesn't shy away from affection either so I feel like he's happy kissing you wherever but along your jawline always seems to get a small reaction out of you so it's his favorite for that reason. The blush that warms your cheeks warms his heart.
Vernon Your lap/ thighs. I was originally gonna put this down for Jeonghan since he's a napper but I feel like when Vernon gets comfortable with you he's the type to lay in your lap often. He doesn't even think about the kiss as anything other than innocent and loving. You're just right there and he feels an urge to kiss you so he does. Plus, when he does this you often pat or stroke his hair as recognition and he completely melts into your touch.
Dino He's a back hugger and for that reason, I think he would fall into the habit of leaving kisses on the back of your neck. I wouldn't say it's his favorite since this dude is head over heels for your lips as well but it's where he's leaving the most kisses for sure. Holding you by the waist and swaying you gently side to side, head laying on one of your shoulders, he leaves feathery kisses that you almost can't feel if it weren't for the fact that he smiles and chuckles as he does so.
NOT PROOFREAD
{If you're interested in being on the Taglist for my Seventeen works please let me know!! And my requests are open!}
{A/N: I'm going crazy I think. I don't know where this came from. It's 2am as I finish writing this and reading it over once. My eyes are red and all I can think about is these boys. I've been writing and thinking of prompts like an insane person. Ngl though I feel like all of them are good kissers.}
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just-wrting · 3 months
Text
Feeling Fangs
Title: Feeling Fangs
Pairing: Charlotte Katakuri x Wife!Reader
Word Count: 3.2k
Summary: You find out what your husband has been hiding from you after he loses against Straw Hat, but you find yourself fixating on how pretty he is without his scarf.
Master List Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
A/N: My bf won't let me read about this man because I'm not far enough in the anime so I'll just write about him instead. And read about him but my bf doesn't have to know that part yet. He's worried about spoilers but what spoilers am I gonna get from all that smut? Also I just like men with fangs.
You didn't particularly care who one this little war that broke out, as long as your husband is fine. There's no doubt in your mind that he'll survive, you just don't want to see him hurt. Sure, the two of you have never really been romantic or anything, your marriage was somewhat political, but you've grown fond of him. So when his little sister is kneeling on the street saying he lost, your heart drops.
"Brulee, get me in there," you hiss in her ear. "I need to make sure he's okay."
There's tears in her eyes as she looks at you quizzically. "How did you get here?"
"This isn't the time for that. Let me in the mirror dimension."
She nods quickly and lets you through. Her steps are hesitant as she follows behind you. You make note of the chefs slumped against a wall, curious as to who killed them. It doesn't matter to you as you stumble closer to your husband.
It's the first time you've seen him like this. Even when it's time to sleep, he's still awake, sitting up in bed doing who knows what as you drift off. Right now, he's asleep on his back with a hat on his face. You quickly locate his scarf next to a group of people, ignoring them.
You've never seen him without his scarf, but you figure out that everyone here has. The chefs must've seen him without it, so he's the one who killed them. Everyone else must've passed out from something in the battle, but they've all seen him too.
"Brulee, tie up everyone here. It doesn't matter who they are, I want them unable to leave," you say in a low voice. "If you fail to do this, I won't forgive you."
While she follows your orders, you crouch down to rewrap his scarf. You make sure to hide his face from view as you carefully lift the hat. Biting your lip in anticipation, you do your best to not wake him. As you unveil his full face, you feel yourself get flustered.
Poking out from his lips are four shiny fangs. You do your best to not reach out and touch them, wondering how sharp they are. You expected something frightening under the scarf, but Katakuri is actually just as pretty as you thought he was. You don't know how you lucked out to get him, but you'll think about that later.
You make quick work with his scarf, noticing he's missing his jacket. You'll have to look for it later, your focus needs to be on finding Pudding. It doesn't matter that she's rude to you, what matters is her ability. You had overheard it in passing, but her ability to manipulate memories is what makes her the key.
"Let's go, I need to find Pudding."
Thankfully, you can see her hiding on the other side of the mirror you came in. It might take a moment to run and get her, but you'll put yourself through whatever you need to. The most important thing to you is wiping everyone's memory of what Katakuri looks like.
You dash through the fight, weaving your way through both enemies and the Big Mom pirates. Ducking down next to Pudding, you catch your breath for just a moment while she stares starry eyed at someone.
"Sanji..." she mumbles before glaring at you. "What do you want?"
"I need you to alter some memories for me."
She gives you an evil smile. "Why would I do that? Just because you're my big brother's wife doesn't mean I'll help you."
You frown. "I won't tell anyone that you've fallen in love with Sanji and most likely helped him escape."
"What?! You have no proof!"
You pull her up and start dragging her behind you. "I may not have concrete proof, but I'm not stupid. Besides, your reaction is my proof."
She grumbles something about you being an ass, but she follows you.
"You also need to wipe some of Brulee's memory.  If you tell anyone what you saw in them, I'll tell everyone that you helped Sanji escape. Do you understand?"
She nods. "Alright, I understand. Why what did they see?"
You set your jaw. "At the very least, they saw Katakuri without his scarf. I'm not sure what else they saw."
You watch over her shoulder as she shoves her hand into people's memories. It's a little gross, but it'll get the job done. It's better to threaten one person over a dozen.
There's a moment where Luffy slips and falls, gaining a large wound in his stomach due to being numbed. After finding out why, you watch Katakuri stab himself and pull off his scarf. It's nice to see a pirate try to have a fair fight, giving you a bit more insight as to what your husband is actually like.
"I guess it's a bit weird that he didn't want help if he couldn't defeat Straw Hat, but it doesn't make him lame. Those idiots don't realize they're the lame ones," Pudding grumbles. "Do you think Sanji has the same idea?"
You shrug. "It seems like his captain does at least so probably. Do I look like Sanji?"
Pudding scowls. "Shut up. Let me do this."
You don't miss the days when you'd have mood swings about men. That's the one good thing about having an arranged marriage, you don't have to worry about your feelings for other people.
"Mirrors, are any of you in an intact room? One with a big bed and access to water."
One a little ways away responds, and you look back at your passed out husband. You don't know how you're getting him there. Maybe you should've thought about that ahead of time, but it doesn't matter now. You can figure it out, you always do.
—-
It's been at least one day since you dragged him into bed, and Katakuri has yet to wake up. You can feel yourself dozing off every time you sit down, so you do your best to stay occupied. You prepare food, make sure you have enough water to wipe him down and let him drink, and constantly rearranging things. On one hand you want him to wake up so you know he's not in a coma, on the other hand you want him to get as much rest as he needs.
What you want doesn't matter, as you hear him wake up suddenly with a gasp. In your shock, you drop the plate you were holding.
"There's no need to wake up so aggressively, Katakuri. You're safe," you reassure as you pick up the bigger pieces of the plate. "How are you feeling?"
"How did I end up here? What did you see?" His voice is low, almost threatening.
You dump the bigger pieces in the trash and start sweeping. "We can talk about that later. You should have some water and eat. Then you should go back to sleep. I patched you up as well as I can, but I'm not a doctor."
He starts to pull the covers off, giving you a harsh look. "What did you-"
You dump the dustpan's contents into the trash before setting the broom to the side. "Like I said, it can wait. No offense, but you don't particularly scare me when you're ripping open your wounds."
His face goes a bit red as you tell him off. You want him to feel better before you deal with any other matters. That includes the talk of whether he'll choose to kill you for seeing his face.
"I made you some food, so just sit up."
Thankfully, he obeys. Katakuri doesn't even protest as you feed him. You make sure to avert your eyes, just for his comfort. He seems to be extremely hungry, eating all the food you've made. By the time it's all gone, he looks tired again.
"Get some more sleep, I'll lock the door. I wanted to be awake when you woke up, but now that that has happened, I can sleep."
He watches as you turn the lock and slide the broom handle through the loops of the door handles. You do the same with the window, shoving a fire poker through the handle before closing the curtains once more. Giving each of them a tug, you feel satisfied when nothing clatters to the ground.
"When did you sleep?" Katakuri asks, watching you intently. "You look..."
"Terrible, I know. I don't think I've slept since before the tea party, though. I'd have to think about it."
You crawl into the other side of the bed. It's a bit small, but leaning against him makes it a bit more comfortable. Despite your efforts, you find yourself dozing off before making sure he sleeps. There's no way he's getting out of the bed though, you've managed to lay on his arm.
—-
By the time you wake up, Katakuri is fast asleep. For what must be the first time ever, he's got his arm around you, holding you close. You watch him for just a moment, admiring how pretty he is. You want to reach up and play with his hair, but you ignore that feeling and try to wiggle from his grasp.
Even with how battered he is, you find it difficult to free yourself. You knew he was strong, ridiculously so, but you didn't realize he's just this strong. After freeing yourself, you feel exhausted again.
Thankfully, Pudding has left another basket of food for you, complete with an angry note about how she's not your delivery girl and if she's going to bring you stuff you need to be there. You roll your eyes and throw away the note. If she had important things to say, she can say them to your face.
You help yourself to an apple, crunching away as you try to figure out what to make. It would be nice if you could access a bigger kitchen with more ingredients, but this will have to do. Hopefully it's enough food, you've seen the size of  the food he eats.
With a sigh, you give up. Exhaustion still flows through you, so you focus on things that don't require a lot of thought. So you eat and wash the dishes, making sure to be as quiet as possible. It's better for him to wake up naturally, not due to you being a jerk.
Once there's nothing more to do, you make your way to the bed. You check the wounds, letting the smaller and scabbed ones breathe. Almost all of his injuries have stopped bleeding, you just can't check the one you're most worried about. He needs to wake up for you to take a look.
As you reach towards his head, his hand shoots up and grabs your wrist tightly. You wince in pain, surprised at how tight his grip is.
"What are you doing?"
You tug on his fingers. "Checking the scrape on your forehead. I want to make sure it closed up."
He cautiously releases you. "Don't do anything else."
You click your tongue against your teeth. "Have some more faith in me, Katakuri. I'm your wife, I have no ill intentions."
"We need to talk."
You start unwrapping the dressing. "What do you want to know?"
Katakuri breaks eye contact with you. "What happened after I lost?"
"Well, we lost. I dragged you out of here with some help."
"What about the others in the mirror dimension? What happened to them?"
The blood that makes up the scab also goes into his hairline, so you make a note to bathe with him so it doesn't open. "Those chefs are dead. Your little sister and her stupid fan club on the other hand are alive."
"Where are they now?" he asks, furrowing his brow. "What about the cam-snails?"
"I have no idea where they went after they woke up. I collected the cam-snails though, they're in a bag here."
His hand makes its way to your thigh, holding you down. "What did you see? What did you do?"
"I put your scarf on, tied everyone up, and made Pudding alter their memories. Straw Hat knows, but based on how I found you, I don't think that matters."
"How did you-"
You give a small smirk. "Poor little Pudding was so against marriage, but she ended up falling in love with that Sanji boy. I told her that I would keep it a secret if she kept yours. I'm telling you in case you choose to... you know."
His other hand pulls down his scarf. "So you know. And you're still here?"
Satisfied with the head scrape, you pull back a bit. "Of course. You're injured, where else would I be?"
"Aren't you afraid?" He pulls his face into a scowl. "Don't you think-"
Your eyes flutter shut as you lean forward and kiss him. It's nothing romantic, just a quick press of your lips on his, but you pull away flustered.
"Why did you do that?" His eyes are wide.
You blink in surprise. "Why did I do that?"
"How would I know, I'm not-"
You lean forward and kiss him again. His lips are soft, and when you lick your own after pulling away, you find them sweet.
"What are you-" You cut him off again with a kiss.
"This plan isn't-" Even after a fourth kiss, you can't stop.
Before he says anymore, he grabs your face in both hands. "Stop whatever nonsense this is. What are you trying to do?"
You've never seen Katakuri look like this. His face is flushed and his eyes are wide.
"I just really wanted to do that."
It’s now his turn to blink in shock. “Why?”
“You’re just…” You look away, knowing that your face is burning up. “Katakuri, you’re so pretty.”
He doesn’t say anything, just looks at you intensely. You’re worried he’s upset, you did just keep interrupting him with kisses, but that thought is dashed within seconds as he pulls you into a kiss.
His tongue pushes past your bottom lip, pressing into your mouth. Even when you try to take control of the kiss, it takes him no effort to keep you in place. His tongue overpowering yours and exploring your mouth, filling your taste buds with sweetness.
Due to the size difference, his tongue fills your mouth, eagerly searching every part of your mouth. You can’t help the dirty thoughts that start to fill your mind, thinking of other ways he could use his tongue. All you can focus on is how sweet he tastes and how much you enjoy kissing him.
You’re completely breathless once he pulls away, panting as you try to breathe. Through half lidded eyes, you watch him recover. His face is somehow even more flushed and he’s looking at your lips. Without thinking, you blurt out the first thing to come to mind.
“Katakuri, can you bite me? Please?”
His thumb brushes softly against your cheek. “Are you sure you want that?”
You rub your cheek into his palm, letting out a soft hum. “Please?”
Titling your head to the side, you expose your neck. You have no idea why you want him to bite you so badly, you just do. If he tells you no, you won’t ask again, you just want to experience it this once.
The hand on your other cheek slides down to your shoulder. You feel his warm breath on your neck, and you bite your lip in anticipation. At first, he just presses a soft kiss to your neck, carefully holding you like you might break. Then, without warning, you feel his teeth sink into your neck.
You let out a gasp, and your hand grips his shoulder. It’s not a harsh bite, just the very tips of his fangs. The only pain you feel is the initial breaking of your skin, but once that passes, you feel flushed and warm. It’s really doing something for you, and you don’t want him to stop.
“Did that hurt?” Katakuri asks, pulling away at your gasp.
You draw a shaky breath as he licks the marks on your skin. “You drew blood. That’ll always hurt, but I’m fine.”
He hums softly as he makes sure you’re not bleeding anymore. His touch is gentle and light, and you let out a groan as he traces invisible patterns into your skin. You want more, and you lace your hand in his hair.
Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. You pull away from Katakuri, adjusting your shirt to cover the mark. You wait for him to pull his scarf back up straight under his nose. There’s still a dusting of pink across the tips of his ears, but he doesn’t look as flustered with his scarf up.
He nods, and you open the door. Pudding stands there with her arms crossed, pouting. She pushes past you, dumping a bunch of stuff on table.
“Here’s everything you asked for, don’t ask me for stuff again. You can start getting it yourself!” She puts her hands on her hips. “I’ve done what you wanted for the past three days. I’m done!”
Katakuri moves to get out of the bed, but you wave him down. Both of the siblings deserve their rest. That’s the only thing you should focus on.
“Thank you Pudding. Go get some rest, we’ll be okay.”
She looks surprised, before huffing. “Of course I’m going to get rest. I deserve it.”
She gives you another dirty look before storming out. It’s like a whirlwind came in, scolded you, and left. You don’t really care. She did her best to help you, so you can cut her some slack.
“She shouldn’t talk to you like that.”
You close the door and lock it once more. “It’s fine. Everyone is under stress right now, including you. You should get some more sleep if you can.”
Katakuri tugs his scarf off, letting it rest on the floor. You want to go fluster him again, but you just stay still. Seeing him like this, battered and bruised, makes your heart ache.
“Are you going to sleep as well?”
You give him a soft smile. “Do you want me to come and get more sleep?”
He doesn’t meet your eyes as he answers. “It’s your choice.”
You walk over and place your hand on his cheeks, making him look at you. “Do you need me next to you for you to sleep?”
Unfortunately, you seem to have pushed him just far enough to annoy him. He gives you a stern look as he wraps his arms around you. Even though he’s annoyed, he’s gentle as he pulls you on top of him.
You squirm slightly in a halfhearted attempt to get him to let you go. His grip is iron tight, and he has no intention of letting you go. This is the first time he’s ever insisted on having you sleep next to him, and it makes you feel warm inside.
Once you stop moving, his grip looses just enough for you to get a bit more comfortable. You lay your head on his chest, closing your eyes to listen to his heart beat. It’s relaxing, and you feel yourself get drowsy. You know it’s all over, when he starts to rub your back.
There’s the sound of his saying something, but you fail to catch it as you fall asleep. You don’t even notice the soft kiss he presses to your head while you drift off.
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a-hazbin-reader · 7 months
Note
Hi there! I love all your work and I saw wife!reader and alastor getting married when they were alive and wanted to know how they met or who fell in love first.
You don't have to do this though, have a lovely day! ❤️
I really love this...I won't do how they met because I want people to be able to decide that for themselves but..
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Reader goes on a date, Implied Murder, Alastor being jealous, Suggestive
Description: ☝️⬆️
You are most likely the one who falls first, not that anybody could blame you, Alastor is F I N E
He's a well sought after man with his good looks, charming conversation skills and various other talents
So it makes sense that when you meet him and get to know him a little more, you're smitten with the radio host
But you're well aware that the chances of becoming an item with Alastor are slim to none
He's never once showed an interest in being in a relationship and visibly tenses when someone flirts with him
So you resolve yourself to try and get over this little crush and keep your friendship with him intact
If you were being honest with yourself, then it's more than just a crush, you're head over heels in love with him
You two do become fast friends though, something always drawing the two of you close, a sort of magnetic pull
You're practically the best of friends, always together, inside jokes, judging people together
A dozen almost kisses, romantically charged interactions, almost sexually charged drunken escapades
You even bring him food when he's at work so that he doesn't forget to eat and take care of himself
He sets aside time to take you to different restaurants, clubs, parks, anywhere that might be enjoyable
People are quick to assume you two are a couple, but you're always quicker to correct them
It's the truth but it sort of bothers him
He can't deny that you're great company, or that you're beautiful, or that he hates it when you're not smiling
Or that he has a great...fondness for you and your little quirks/talents
He's very attached to you to say the least, you're an important person in his life
That's what he tells people anyways
He doesn't even realize that he's in love with you until you're suddenly gushing about meeting someone new
You look so hopeful, so excited that some guy asked you out but the idea of you on a date makes his skin crawl
But you're only so hopeful and excited because you think maybe this guy will help you get over your feelings for Alastor?
He's a very sweet man, cute, funny, a little touchy-feely but nothing you can't handle
You don't notice the way Alastor's smile twitches ever so slightly whenever you bring up your date
Or his sour tone and the way he tries to discourage you from going
"Y/N, do you even like him? Can you picture yourself having a future with him?"
"That's why I'm going on a date with him, besides... he's very sweet to me!"
Another eye twitch and a sound that's almost like a snarl, Alastor is sweet to you, this guy isn't special
Okay, you notice but you assume he's just being protective
Alastor doesn't even realize his thunderous expression until your soft hand grips his chin, forcing him to lock eyes with you
"Alastor, I'll be fine. I'm a big girl and I can handle myself, you don't need to worry about me.."
Even though you want him to worry about you, you want him to beg you not to go, to tell you that he-
But he won't
His attitude only gets worse once he actually sees the guy who asked you out on a date
Oh no he's hot
If Alastor knew the word, then he would surely call him a himbo but he doesn't know that word, so he just calls him "Next."
Watching you interact with him was something that was truly sickening, seeing someone so clearly enamored with you
And you're enjoying the attention, Alastor gives you attention, he compliments you and takes you to fun places
Just never with obvious romantic intentions before...
Your date kisses your hand and Alastor wants to scrub it clean for you, Alastor can kiss you-
Kissing you wouldn't be so bad...or possibly more...
What was all that sickeningly sweet stuff you used to talk about couples doing together? Dates, cuddling, sex? He could do that, with you that is-
It's a little hot under his collar all of a sudden
It's not like Alastor hasn't already been practically taking you out on dates, courting you
Everyone already thinks you two are a couple anyways
Fuck he's in love with you and he's probably already missed his chance
He wrestles with himself over the sudden revelation all the days leading up to your date
It's not until you come out looking like the most heavenly creature on earth that Alastor realizes you're actually going on a date
"You... you're really going to go out with him? You can do so much better, Y/N."
He doesn't miss the frustrated look on your face and the way you hug yourself
"Well, he's the only one who's taken an interest in me, Al."
"And if someone else asked you?"
He's cautious with his words, already formulating a plan in his head based off of your reaction
"...there's only one person who I want to take notice of me."
Oh he's stealing you away now
He stands up and slaps his hands on your arms, giving you a charming smile as he leans in
Your body instinctively reacts, and you lean in to meet him halfway, your lips drawn to his-
"Make sure you guys tune into my show later tonight, okay? I'll have something special whipped up for your date!"
He hugs you and leaves you feeling more conflicted than ever, the feeling doesn't leave even after Alastor sees you off for your date
Your lips still tingle from that almost kiss
Your date is absolutely ruined, Alastor having completely taken over your thoughts with his strange behavior
Not that he didn't always take over your thoughts already
But you can hardly focus on your date, who's very sweet, very dumb and a little too touchy for your tastes
You end the date early, already knowing there's no shaking off your love for your best friend
You'll just long for Alastor for the rest of yours days...
Then you remember he asked you to tune into his radio show! Without even realizing it, your feet have taken you to his radio tower
You can hear him in there, getting ready for his show, you grab the handle and press your ear to the door
"Good evening, folks! I would like to dedicate this special song to the love of my life! My soulmate, Y/N!"
You feel your body freeze as a familiar song fills your ears, a song that was special only to you and Alastor
It's the closest thing to a confession that you'll probably ever get from him-
You'll take it
When you open the door to the broadcast booth you can tell he's surprised to see you there
"I thought you would at least be letting him drive you home by now..."
He's nervous but clearly trying to hide it, making his way towards you slowly
"I just wanted to be here with you..."
His arms are sliding around your waist, the nervousness he had before melting away into a smug grin
He's so fucking handsome
"You missed me so much that you ditched you date~?"
Your fingers are tangling in his hair as you pull him in closer, lips nearly touching as the emotions between you two threaten to burst
"And you just dedicated an entire love song to me on air to steal me away from my date."
His warm breath hits your face as he chuckles, bypassing your waiting lips to kiss your ear softly instead
"What can I say, my dear? I'm a fool when it comes to love~"
His voice nearly makes your knees buckle, but Alastor easily holds you up, pushing you up against the door while giving you a bruising kiss
For someone who's never really taken an interest in relationships, he's a really talented fucking kisser
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I really hope you like this one! I had so much fun with it!
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1-800-kami · 1 year
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R U MINE? feat gojo satoru (II)
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gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 
that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…
“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”
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IMPORTANT: this is part TWO (and the final part) of the r u mine? mini series. make sure to read part one of this fic before proceeding! :)
content: 5.4k words, afab!reader, rich college frat boy gojo, SMUT (fingering & unprotected sex.. wrap it before u tap it kids!) ANGST, (i listened to deftones while writing the breakup era LMAOO i was in my feels 😔) gojo "everything reminds me of her" satoru is really going thru it, idk how to feel about the ending tbh, cheating implications, kinda proofread ig, more emo gojo (u luv to see it)
author's note: guys. where do i even start?? first of all, thank u for all the support on the first part of this mini series!! we also hit 100 followers on this blog so tysm for supporting me n my writing <3 here's the long awaited part two (n also the finale) as i promised that i would get it out over the weekend! just a quick announcement that i may be a little bit more inactive from here on out.. mainly because classes r starting again nd im starting to get busier. i do have more fic plans though, (and a geto smut in my drafts? 👀) so i'll make time to write when i can! happy reading and thank u for all the support on this silly little series :)
tags: @soley613 @feariteriu @bear-likes-mushrooms @96jnie @keilaq1 @whydohumansss @luftyluft @fatbootymuncher (bold = i'm unable to tag u)
reblog and interact for a kiss ;)
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everything’s been hazy.
you don’t really remember how you got home– you either waved down a cab or walked until you somehow found your house. either way, the alcohol is worsening the pounding in your ears. the straps of your dress are clinging terribly against your skin–you want to take it off, you want to wear something more comfortable, you want to just go to sleep, preferably forever… but you can’t bring yourself to.
you can’t even bring yourself to move.
so the rumors really were true? but why did gojo pursue so far just for you? why did gojo say those words to you when you spent the night together? why did gojo try so hard to convince you that night that he wanted to have sex with you because he loved you–and not solely because he wanted to have sex?
why did gojo lie to you?
another series of pings sound throughout the room, and you finally move to silence your phone. the noise is all so overwhelming. why the hell is your phone blowing up?
you check your notifications–mostly dms from people you don’t know, either asking if you and satoru were dating, or questioning you about what the hell happened at the party. you know that you’re gonna be the subject of gossip once you’re back at campus, and you hate it.
you were surprised at the numbers once you scrolled down your notification list a little further. ten missed calls from satoru, accompanied by a series of fifteen panicked messages. you open it, and you stare sadly at his contact photo and name, remembering the fond memory behind it. once you two actually started dating, you were merciful enough to add a heart next to his name, and even updated it to “toru”. he was elated at that.
you think you can barely even call him gojo now.
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the most recent message was barely sent a minute ago. like it was on cue, you see the bright headlights pull up outside of your door. you wanted to sink into your couch and never resurface ever again.
you hear suguru’s car door open and close, and then frantic knocking outside. you walk to the door while sniffling, looking through the peephole just to confirm your suspicions. it was satoru.
“i can hear you crying through the door, y/n. i know you’re there.” he takes a deep inhale, and the tears start rolling down your cheeks again once you hear the complete and utter vulnerability in his voice. you just don’t know what to believe anymore. “shit, i’m crying too. well, i’m gonna explain myself even if you don’t care enough to listen to me. uhm, believe it or not, what happened at the party wasn’t my doing… at all. when you went to use the bathroom, this girl went up to me and started flirting with me, like she was waiting for you to leave or somethin’. i was g’na tell her to go fuck off but she pushed herself on my lap and before i could do anything about it you walked in and it was just all horrible timing and- god. i know it sounds unbelievable, right? you must think i’m terrible right now.”
“you don’t have to believe me. if i were in your shoes i wouldn’t know what to think either. i’m just… explaining what happened.”
there’s a long period of silence between you and satoru, aside from the occasional sniffling on both ends. you don’t know what to say. you want to believe him. you want to do nothing more than to open the door and let him hold you in his arms again, but you just don’t know what to think anymore. you poured your entire heart out to a man who you knew you shouldn’t be messing with, and now you don’t know who or what to believe. you feel like a fool, and you’re just tired. so damn tired. the silence feels asphyxiating, like it's tearing your relationship with satoru further and further apart the longer it draws on.
satoru is the first one to break the silence. “i’m guessing from the silent treatment that you don’t believe me. it’s okay, y/n. i’ll wait an eternity for you to forgive me because i’ll always choose you- fuck… over anything, and i hope you know that.”
your mind is a mess, and satoru’s words make it even messier.
i’ll wait an eternity for you
i’ll always choose you over anything
you put your head in your hands and sob. it hurts.
a minute passes–gojo hears you get up from where you’re sitting behind the door, and his heart fills with hope.
“i just… i just don’t know how to believe you, gojo.”
his heart breaks when he hears the door–presumably to your bedroom–open and close, leaving him alone with his shattered heart. his heart breaks when he takes in your voice, noticing how weak and exhausted you sounded. he wonders how much you’ve cried just from this past hour alone. his heart breaks once he realizes that he’s alone with his thoughts again, alone with the voice in his head that was berating him for not being able to prevent all of this if he hadn’t frozen up and just pushed her away the second that girl started flirting with him. finally, his heart breaks once it registers that you called him gojo–the last name that he shares with his corrupt and money-crazy family… the family he tries so hard to get away from. it was also the name you called him during the days that you barely trusted him.
now, he’s back to square one, and he has none of your trust again. this time, satoru swears that he’ll do anything in his power to get it back once more.
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you didn’t come to school today.
there’s been nothing but radio silence on your end. gojo has sent you countless messages over the weekend asking how you’ve been, with the occasional desperate voicemail where he tells you that he loves and misses you. you’ve turned off your read receipts, so gojo doesn’t even know if you’ve seen his texts or listened to his voicemails. he’s concerned for you, even though he knows that he’s the reason behind all of this. he was hoping to talk things out with you today.. but you weren’t even here.
one thing gojo knew about you is that you cared deeply about your academics, and you wouldn’t miss attendance even if you were sick. it pains him to know that he was the reason that you weren’t here today. you were avoiding him, and he felt helpless.
he’s talked to geto—and the best advice that his best friend could offer was to “find proof that you didn’t cheat on her.” he’s right, though. the last thing you had said to gojo was that you don’t know how to believe if he’s telling the truth or not. gojo has absolutely no idea how to prove his fidelity to you, since words clearly weren’t enough. it frustrates him to no end.
gojo now knows that he feels absolutely lost. all when he’s not with you.
it feels nerve-wracking to walk the halls. 
he remembers telling you the night that you slept together that he’d learned over time to drown out the rumors about him. he learned not to care about what other people thought about him, and he eventually became unaffected by the school’s gossip. 
however, this time was different.
this time, he finds it difficult to drown out the rumors when he hears your name in them. he flinches every time someone whispers your name and his as he walks the halls, feeling that all eyes are on him. “i heard y/n and gojo broke up…” “they were dating?!” “yeah.. i didn’t believe it at first, either! apparently he…”
he doesn’t want to hear it, so he walks a little faster. it hasn’t felt this suffocating to be on campus in a while.
maybe that’s partially why you didn’t show up. rumors are hard to ignore if you don’t know how to shun them out. 
gojo lets out a sigh. he decides that he’s going to ditch the rest of class. you weren’t here, he couldn’t talk to you, and he felt he was gonna go mad if he heard your name spoken by someone again, so he turns to leave, but flinches as he feels a hand lightly tap his shoulder.
“gojo-san?”
he turns around, with a girl that he’s never seen before standing in front of him… not that he pays attention to them in the first place, though. he raises his eyebrow in question, and the girl looks so nervous she might pass out. “i have to tell you something-“
“if it’s a love confession or whatever, i don’t want to hear it-“
“-no!” she flushes a deep shade of red, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes. she coughs awkwardly at his expression. “um, no.. it’s not that. please, just give me two minutes in the library. i have something to tell you.”
he decides to entertain this girl for a bit. he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious about what she had to talk to him for. gojo sighs and says, “two minutes. that’s all you’re getting.”
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“this is about the party last friday, no?” he says while taking a seat near one of the tables. he feels sick just being here. he’d never gone to the library before meeting you–as he had no reason to go here at all. then, he started accompanying you everywhere as he tried to win your heart. “study dates” were frequent here, and he even remembers forcefully changing his contact name and number on your phone during one of your dates.
gosh, everything literally reminds him of you. he can barely live like this.
she takes a seat across from him, and she shamefully nods at his words. “i went to the party on friday, and i just want to say i’m sorry-”
gojo gets up to leave. he can’t do this. he doesn’t need anyone’s pity. pity can’t change the fact that you still won’t talk to him. she panics as gojo is about to walk away. “wait!”
the librarian tells her to quiet down, and she mutters an apology. still, she persists. “please, just wait for two minutes… i need two minutes to explain myself. you promised you’d give me that.”
she stares at gojo, who hasn’t left yet, and takes that as her opportunity to speak. “i was a friend of… her,” he doesn’t need an explanation to know who she was talking about. “the reason why she came up to you was because of a dare i told her to do. she’s had a crush on you for a while now, so of course she was willing to flirt with you.”
“um, that was the dare, by the way. my friend told me to record it, because we were all drunk, and we thought it would be funny. just another memory to laugh at in the future, right? we didn’t know you were dating the girl you were with at the party. sorry but, we assumed she was just a fling… or something… we didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”
“yeah, i was dating the girl at the party.” gojo scoffs, and he feels his anger bubbling up again. “then your friend had to do that stupid dare, and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.”
“i’m sorry-”
“i don’t need your apologies. is that why you came up to me? to apologize so you don’t feel guilty about what happened anymore?” gojo sneers. he was right, though. guilt is ridden all over her face, and she can’t even meet his eyes. he’s about to leave, thinking that this entire conversation was useless, but gojo thinks back on what she said earlier.
“...my friend told me to record it…”
he turns back to look at her, which surprises her, to say the least. “hey, you said you recorded the dare, right?”
“uhm, yes.”
“so you still have the video?”
“it should be in my camera roll somewhere-”
“if you came here to apologize to me, then you should send me that video.” she looked a little horrified at his words, and gojo could almost laugh. “what? i’m not gonna do anything bad with it, god.”
she thinks about what gojo’s intentions could be with that video, and her eyes light up in recognition as she connects the dots from what he said beforehand. i was dating the girl at the party… then your friend had to do that stupid dare… and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.
she nods in understanding. this is the least she could do for him. she pulls out her phone, looking for the video, and says, “i hope you two make up soon, gojo-san.”
gojo satoru walks- no, runs out of that library with determination. determination as he finally has the video evidence of what happened at the party–his saving grace so he could finally get you to forgive him.
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you miss him.
you miss him like hell, actually, and you blink at the messages he just sent you in complete disbelief.
you didn’t show up to class today because you were afraid. you were afraid to see satoru again, yes, but you were also afraid of what everyone else would say about you. the party was one thing, but the after-effects and the rumors were something completely different. you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that, unlike satoru, so you stayed home. all because you were afraid of what would happen on campus.
you just wish things would go back to how they were before… all of this happened. you didn’t want to admit it, but you’ve read all of satoru’s messages, and you’ve listened to all of his voicemails. you’ve cried to them. and it hurts because you’re still torn apart in the midst of your own feelings. and now, satoru wants to talk to you, because he’s been wanting to do nothing but fix everything between the two of you.
the doorbell rings, and you almost jump out of your skin. 
you didn’t even know if you would open the door or not. despite that, you felt your body moving on its own, like you were relying on your own instincts. you washed your face to get rid of the dried tears on your cheeks, brushed the tangles out of your hair, and dressed into something more presentable. the next thing you know, you’re leaning against the wall next to the front entrance. your shadow is visible underneath the door, so satoru knows that you’re here.
“hi, y/n..” he sounded so nervous that you almost laughed, but you felt equally as terrified as him. “i have something to show you… uh, on my phone. if you don’t want to see me, it’s fine, i’ll just send it to you, but i’d really prefer if you open the door and we’ll talk about this inside-”
your hand is already reaching the door knob before you can even think about it. it’s such an impulse decision that you look at him in surprise once you open the door. it’s the first time you’ve seen him ever since you were at the party. it’s only been three days, but you can’t help but notice how his eyebags are more prominent, his eyes are a little redder, and he looks nothing short of exhausted.
“hey,” he manages to breathe out, his eyes meeting yours. “can i come in? please?”
you nod, too stunned to say anything, and he exhales in relief as he walks in. the two of you sit on the couch, and gojo notices how you’re keeping your distance from him. it breaks his heart a little.
he looks for the video on his phone and gets ready to show it to you. this is it. his last ditch effort for your forgiveness. he’s really fuckin’ hoping that this works. “i got this video from a girl who came to the party. it’s a recording of, um, what happened.”
he hands the phone over to you, and you take it skeptically, still choosing to keep silent. you press play, and you watch the recording. a shaky hand holds the camera, and the person behind it says, “holy shit, she’s actually doing it!” they're presumably talking to their friend, and the camera focuses on a girl walking over to gojo. your heart is pounding, eyes widening in recognition as you stare at her... the one who caused all of this in the first place.
the all too familiar girl comes up to him, saying something out of earshot. when gojo looks at her, completely uninterested, she pulls that move. the scene you saw at the party before you ran out. tears fill your eyes again, and you almost want to stop the video, but your interest is piqued at the next part.
..this… this part was something that you didn’t see. gojo angrily reacts at the girl’s move, with her falling on the floor as she looks at him, stunned at how furious he looks. the person behind the camera gasps, continuing to record out of shock as a crowd of people turn to stare at the two. geto eventually comes into the frame and takes gojo away from all the chaos. the video ends there, and you grip gojo’s phone shakily.
holy shit.
tears roll down your face, but this time, they’re tears of relief. you waste no time in hugging satoru, crying your heart out as you bury your face in his neck. you’re happy. you’re so fucking happy, and so relieved knowing that he didn’t lie to you. of course he didn’t.
“m’sorry-” you sniffle into his shoulder. gojo is so shocked at what was happening that it takes him a second to hug you back, but when he does, he starts crying. “m’so fucking sorry i didn’t believe you-”
“shh, it’s okay, it’s okay…” he says, and you only hug him tighter. “m’so tired, you know that? these past three days fucking sucked. i’m just so glad you’re in my arms again, fuck-”
“-i love you, i love you, i love you so fucking much, toru.” you repeat, laughing as you kiss him all over his face. it’s been a while since you said that to someone. you wipe his never-ending tears away, still in disbelief, and whisper, “you’re real. right? you’re actually here with me right now ‘nd i’m not dreaming, right?
“i’m very much real, baby.” he says, putting his forehead against yours as you take in his features again. “god, i missed that pretty face so much.”
he finally closes the gap between you two, pulling you into a much needed kiss. it’s a kiss filled with so many emotions–desperation, happiness, relief. satoru thinks his heart is finally whole again. he’s missed you. he’s missed you so fucking much, and you’ve missed him too. 
you’re like an anchor to satoru. the light of his life that keeps him grounded. and god, he’s been apart from you for too long. 
you reposition yourself as you’re deepening the kiss. you’re on his lap now, and you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging on his hair in desperation. “oh yeah? ‘y gonna do anything about it?"
“of course i am,” he says, hands roaming underneath your shirt as he caresses your bare waist. fuck. he needs you. right now. especially after thinking that he was about to lose you forever–for something that he didn’t even do. “i’m gonna show you just how much i missed you, baby.”
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gojo can’t let you go.
you’re in your bedroom, and both of you waste no time undressing each other. he takes you in–all of you, in awe of every crevice of your body as he trails his hands further down your waist.
god, you’re so beautiful. “i can’t believe i almost lost you.”
his words are shaky, like he’s still uncertain that you’re real and you’re in his arms again. he can’t seem to break himself away from you, almost like you’ll disappear if he lets you go. “but i’m here now, toru.”
“i’m here to stay, and i’ll never let you go again… ‘m yours,” you whisper, and your words set a fire in him, fueling his body with nothing but desperation. desperation to have you right here, and right now. 
he wastes no time in plunging two of his fingers in your cunt, and he groans at just how wet you are. “satoru-”
“fuck, you’re so wet… and it’s all for me,” he mutters, spreading your legs effortlessly when you try to close them, thighs shaking in pure pleasure. he adds another finger, and you already feel stretched to the brim, and you haven’t even taken him in yet. the thought of his cock inside of you makes you even wetter than you already are, and you look up at satoru with eyes full of lust and desire. “missed you so much, baby. missed you and your pretty little cunny,”
his fingers are long, and you whine at how full you feel right now. you’re so loud, and you don’t even care. right now, it’s just you and satoru finally feeling each other again. it’s only been three days, but it feels like you’ve been apart for years.
everything about this was filthy. from your erotic moans and the way your cunt squelched against his fingers… not to mention the vice grip you had on them- fuck, satoru thinks he can cum untouched just from watching you like this.
“haa-” you whimper when his fingers curl and hit that spot in your cunt that you can barely seem to reach on your own. it’s exhilarating, and only fuels the growing heat in your stomach. “toru- don’t stop- please, i’m close-”
“really?” he taunts, and it feels so fucking good–your head is numb, and the only thoughts filling your head are thoughts of satoru. the pleasure is too much, and you try to get away from him, but he keeps you in place, curling his fingers faster as punishment. “don’t run away from me, baby… be a good girl and just take it, yeah?”
“toru- fuck- i’m gonna cum, please-” you’re on the brink of release, but suddenly, he stops, ruining your orgasm. “no- wait-”
he pulls his fingers out, and you whine at the loss of stimulation. you were so close–why did he take that away from you? you try and swat at his hands, but he just takes his fingers and puts them in his mouth, locking his eyes with yours with a sly smile. “you taste so sweet, i can’t help it,”
“aww, is my baby mad ‘cause she didn’t get to cum?” he coos sarcastically, caging you in between his arms as he tilts your face up with his finger. “too bad… the only thing you’re cumming on tonight is on my cock.”
and with that, he eases his painfully hard member into your walls. your insides hugged him perfectly–it was like you were made just for him. you gasp once he’s fully sheathed himself inside of you. his fingers were already a lot to take in, but his cock was something completely different. he moans your name, barely keeping his cool. “fuck- you’re squeezing me so tight,”
“missed everything about you, baby. i need to hold you, please,” he pleads desperately, clasping your small hands against his. the size difference alone between the two of you almost makes him cum, but he holds himself back, choosing to bask in this intimate moment. he’s missed every part about this. “you ready f’me?-”
“-just fuck me, satoru, please-” he doesn’t need another confirmation from you.
he can’t bring himself to hold back. next thing you know, he’s fucking you into the mattress, and you feel the headboard shake at how fast satoru is going. fuck–you feel every part of him, every part of his cock as it slams against your tight hole. he’s so big, you feel yourself gasping for breath, and you moan out loud as you notice the prominent bulge forming in your stomach. it’s him, it’s all him, and it’s driving you mad.
satoru follows your eyes in the midst of all of this, and he watches everything in fascination. he decides to be a little mean, and presses his free hand against your stomach–it feels so good, you could almost scream at the pleasure. “you feel that, baby? that’s all me inside of you, hmm?”
“please-” the onset of pleasure feels so overwhelming, and tears fill your eyes. you feel an oncoming orgasm coming, and you know your release will hit you like a tidal wave. your heart is pounding, but satoru only grips your hand tighter and fucks you even harder. “oh, fuck!”
“m close, baby. are you g’na cum too?” he manages to say between pants, and you somehow nod, mind hazy and your release only coming closer. you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “cum inside of me, toru- please- i need to feel you-”
gojo groans at your words, and you both cum together. you ride out your high, screaming as you spasm around his cock, the pleasure overfilling your senses until you’re trembling from it. he fills you up, staying inside of you as the two of you catch your breath. everything’s hazy, and you’re barely aware of your surroundings… it takes you a few minutes to recover. 
“angel, are you with me?”
“yeah, fuck, just… give me a second.” you say, and gojo thinks that he would gladly give you all the time in the world if you needed it. he pulls out of you with a hiss, and his warm seed drips out of your cunny. it makes his cock twitch, but he knows that you’re probably not considering a round two right now.
when you come to your senses, you notice satoru–who put his clothes back on already, wiping your legs down with a rag. his touch is so soft, like he’s afraid to break you, unlike how he handled you just a moment ago. you look down and notice the bruises starting to form on your legs and waist. satoru looks guilty as he stares. “i didn’t go too rough with you, did i?”
“not at all,” you reassure him, and you see him soften up a little. “it felt really good, actually… thank you, toru.”
“s nothing. you know my girl only gets the best,” he teases, and you laugh. “i’m gonna go get you some new clothes and some water… i’ll be back, okay?”
you nod, closing your eyes again as satoru leaves the room. he’s back in two minutes, and he’s gently changing you into new clothes that he found in your drawer. you’re so tired that you can hardly move, so you let satoru do all the work. he caresses all of your bruises, apologizing again even if you already said that it was okay. he’s so gentle, a swift juxtaposition to what just happened beforehand, and so soft with you. once you’re clothed again, he brings a glass of water against your lips, and you greedily gulp it down as he keeps a hand on your back. he places it on the nightstand once you’re finished, and you grab his wrist after, tugging him back to the bed. “lay with me for a bit, toru.”
satoru doesn’t hesitate, laying down next to you on the bed and placing your head against his chest. your breathing is back to normal, and you feel his heart thumping against your ear. you wrap your arms around him, and satoru thinks that this moment is so domestic that he can’t help but daydream. he looks at your face, memorizing every feature about you with a lovesick look in his eyes. you’re so beautiful, so perfect, and he’s just so fucking glad that he didn’t lose you. 
satoru thinks he could wake up to this everyday.
“you’re starin.” you say with an amused look on your face. gojo doesn’t even try to play it off. “what’s on your mind?”
“nothing. i just… love you so much, y/n.” he says, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. satoru would trade anything if it meant that this moment wouldn’t end. “m so glad you chose me.”
“i think it’s the other way around,” you tease. “you chose me. ever since you saw me at the party, you’ve done nothing but try to win my heart.”
“how could i not? there was just something different about you compared to everyone else.” he reminisces about that night at the party, and how far he’s come with his relationship with you. he remembers that night like it just happened yesterday.
you sigh, almost like you were thinking about that night too. you pull him into a kiss, finally finding the courage within you to say a proper “i love you.” to the man who meant the world to you.
“i love you too, angel.” he says, and you snuggle into him tighter. “you know i’ll always choose you…”
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“..from this life and into the next. i’m so glad you gave me a chance, y/n. i’ll forever be grateful to now be called your husband. i’m the luckiest man ever knowing that you let me into your life, and i’m the one who gets to read these vows to marry you. i cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. i love you so much, y/n gojo.” he’s crying. gojo satoru is crying, and he’s hardly ever cried before. though, that changed after he met you.
the last time he cried was during pre-k, and now he’s done it time and time again… all because of you. he cried once during your first argument with him, another during the night he thought he’d lost you forever, and then another when he finally had you in his arms again once he proved his innocence… and now, during his wedding, when he finally gets to call you his wife.
and when you share your kiss at the end of the ceremony to symbolize your togetherness, you hear all your friends cheering. mainly shoko, utahime, and geto. if you showed this very scene to shoko during your university years, she’d call you crazy, saying this would never happen. gojo satoru was once a man who’d never willingly committed in a relationship before, but you came into his life and you changed everything about him. it was like magic.
you pull away from the kiss, wiping his tears away and whispering against his lips, drowning out the crowd, “thank you.”
for memorizing all my favorite foods so you could buy them for me. for walking me to class every day. for making me fall in love with you that one day at the park. for waiting for me to slowly love you even when i was scared to love. for waiting for me even if i didn’t trust you. for loving me. for proving those rumors wrong. for proving that satoru gojo is actually capable of falling in love and pouring his heart out to the one he loves the most.
for everything that you have done to love me.
it was like gojo could hear all of your unspoken words. he smiles, letting one more tear roll down his cheek, and says, “it’s all worth it if it’s for you.”
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thanks for reading <3 -kami.
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likedovesinthewindd · 9 months
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request: I wanted to request a Farleigh Start x fem reader. Where they are both American and he asks that she helps him with an essay. During the process, he starts having feelings for her because of her honesty towards him but she doesn’t realize it until he says it out loud.
★ tags: @darkeyesshine
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You were surprised when Farleigh had initially approached you for help on an essay. You knew him, not personally, but the two of you attended tutorials under the same tutor, and before that, you've seen him around campus plenty of times, usually accompanied by his plethora of friends.
You were, however, not at all surprised when he hadn't shown up the next day as he promised. You checked the time on your wristwatch; thirty something minutes passed since you had arrived at the library. You couldn't say it was uncommon for him, considering he wasn't exactly known for his punctuality or perfect attendance, but you'd be dammed if he was going to waste your time when he was the one who needed your help.
You huffed in annoyance, beginning to pack away your books and call it a day when you noticed Farleigh's tall figure appeared from behind one of the bookshelves, eyes darting around until he saw you sitting by one of the long tables. He took a seat at the chair next to yours rather than the one across from you as he started rummaging through his bag.
"You're late," you said, reopening your books and trying not to show too much irritation at his tardiness and still remain cordial. "So sorry ma'am. Won't happen again, ma'am," he said sarcastically as he dropped his books on the table with a loud thud before sighing. "But in all seriousness, I really am sorry. So, uh, shall we start?"
To his credit, he stayed true to his promise (kinda) and would always be early enough for your sessions, most days looking like death itself due to a previous night of partying or studying. Farleigh was actually very smart; people always seemed to forget that considering strings had to be pulled to get him into Oxford due to his past behavior and poor choices. You still liked him, though, and had grown used to his sarchotic personality and the playful banter that came with it.
He himself had grown quite fond of you, too. He liked that you never spared him his own verbal lashings and never sugar-coated anything; whether it was critique on his writing or telling him he wasn't going to see 30 with the way he needed a smoke break every five minutes.
Today was the last session before he was to submit his work for moderation, and as you read through his work for the last time, you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your head. You chalked it down to him being really eager to get all of this over with.
"It looks really good," you smiled as you slid the file back to him. You were half expecting him to simply take the file and be on his way with a half-assed thank you thrown your way, but he actually seemed very grateful for your efforts. "I owe you one," was the last thing he said before he was already halfway across the library. Later that night, he would be at your dorm room door with a gift bag in hand.
"A thank you gift," he smiled as you took the bag from him. "It wasn't necessary, but thank you," you said. "It definitely was," he argued, "You saved my ass."
"I also kinda wanted a reason to come and tell you about Anabel's little get-together tomorrow night. The Christmas party?" he added. "I know about it. And I heard its invite only," you said, crossing your arms. "That's why I'm telling you. I'm inviting you," he said very matter-of-factly. "Why do you want me to go, don't you have friends?"
"Are we not also friends?" he said, sighing when your eyebrows knit together in confusion. "C'mon, are you really gonna make me beg?"
"No, I don't mind going with you, I just didn't think you liked me that much," you said truthfully. "Well, I do like you. I really like you," he said with a smile. "Tomorrow night. Seven," he added before he was gone.
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erosology · 10 days
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i'm going to be so honest with you: this was supposed to be a drabble about being soap's wife that he likes to share with 141 but it has spiraled into a monster of its own. idk what to even call this anymore. it's 3,100 words of debauchery and sin and thirst and reader being a whore and soap being head over heels for her because of it.
if you guys want an actual fic with plot any everything, pls do let me know! i'll more than likely write a part two to this (whatever the fuck it is lol) if you're interested enough :3
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❀ cw/tw: NSFT, AFAB reader (femme pronouns and pet names), drinking, smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving), voyeurism, threesome (? kinda?), perceived cheating, price being a nosy bitch, possible OOC as it's been A While since i've written anything let alone anything for the COD men, minimal editing because the more i edit the more i add and it's enough of a monster as is, cliffhanger >:)
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It starts how most debauchery in the 141 starts: with you, Johnny, and Gaz having a little too much to drink and not enough good judgment to say no. A night out on the town drinking just about anything that’s handed to you after a particularly long and hard deployment has left the three of you with blurred vision and blurred minds. Somewhere along the way Gaz ends up in yours and Johnny’s house under the impression of sobering up before calling a cab back to base, but rather than ending up in the back of a cab with radio chatter and uncomfortable small talk with a stranger, Gaz ends up in yours and Johnny’s bed, his hand up your skirt while Johnny watches, giving instructions here and there, directing him on where to touch you and how to kiss you properly.
“C’mon, Gaz,” Johnny tuts as Gaz’s hands linger over your still-clothed breasts. “She’s beggin’ for ye’, and yer takin’ yer sweet time. Torturin’ the poor hen, makin’ her wait. Do I have to show ye’ how it’s done?”
“Be a little nice, yeah?” Gaz shoots back with a grin. “‘s my first time doing something like this. And she’s too fuckin’ gorgeous for me to think straight.”
“Scooch o’er, then. I’ll help ye’, poor bastard. Show ye’ show to fuck my bonnie proper.”
And does Johnny show him. With Johnny guiding his hands where he needs to go, the Scottish timbre low in his ear as he gives clear directions, Kyle is able to make you cum on his fingers in record timing, his palm coated in your juices and his eyes full of stars. Then you cum on his tongue, his chin just as soaked as his palm and his tongue lapping up every drop spilling from you. Then, finally, you cum on his cock, with a condom on, of course. Kyle might be allowed to fuck you, but Johnny is the only one allowed to properly fill you up. All the while, Johnny is telling him exactly what to do, humming his approval when he gets something right, tutting when he fumbles and does something he knows you’re not fond of.
”Ye’ know this isn’t gonnae be a one-time thing, right?” Johnny murmurs in your ear after you’re properly cleaned up and Kyle finally gets that cab ride back to the barracks.
You smile up at him sweetly and nuzzle your face into his neck. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
And it happens again. And again. And again. And with each time, Kyle learns exactly how to please you and where to touch you, how to kiss you and where you like his fingers to be as he does so, praises dancing from his tongue and onto yours as he slips into your mouth. And you learn his body just as well, learn how he likes his back scratched up as if he’s your own personal nail file, learn how he’s more of a romantic and foreplay-focused lover rather than a hot and heavy one, learn how vocal he gets and how sweet his words are as they drip from his mouth and echo around your bedroom as you please him.
“Fuck, sweetheart, s’tight, squeezing on my fingers. Must really like it when I curl ‘em like this.”
“Feels so fucking good, love. So perfect. Just like that. Fuck. ‘m close!”
“Best pussy I’ve ever had. Prettiest one, too. Look at you, all spread out, ready for me to eat.”
In combination with Johnny’s low voice complimenting you from his spot in the room, it causes your head to spin and your heart to flutter every damn time, heaven a pathetic excuse of a paradise compared to this.
”Fuckin’ beautiful, bonnie, keep ridin’ him like that. That’s a good girl.”
”Go on, leannan, I know ye’ can take him deeper than that. Do that breathin’ technique I taught you. There ye’ go. Good girl.”
”Givin’ me a show, lass. Gonnae blow my load before I even get a chance to touch myself. Fuckin’ perfect, my bonnie.”
The only ground rule is: nothing happens without Johnny there. He is, after all, your husband, the one who’s kind enough to allow one of his closest friends to fuck you, the one who owns your body and your heart. Gaz is more than happy to comply as long as he still gets what little pieces Johnny allows him. And so, it continues. Not an every night thing, of course, or even a weekly one. But maybe Gaz has had a particularly rough day and no amount of running is shaking the stress off. Or maybe Price has him working twice as hard as his fellow servicemen for half of the reward, and his patience is beginning to wane. Or maybe you just look too fucking irresistible to stop himself from giving Johnny The Look, and the three of you sneak off to your house for your debauchery that ends with Gaz glowing, you spent, and Johnny as smug as ever.
But, of course, when you work as closely as the 141 do and have a Captain as sharp as John Price, there’s only so many things that slip through the cracks before they’re caught in his grasp and closely inspected.
The captain begins to catch on after he’s up late one night smoking a cigar, the English air cold and crisp as he shakes off the remnants of his latest night terror. He doesn’t normally stay at the barracks so late, much preferring his own bed in his own home located just a few kilometers off base, but the stack of paperwork on his desk has him burning the midnight oil well into the night, and he still has a sizeable stack to go through after he rests up a bit. The cot he keeps in his office specially for nights like these is nothing more than a padded piece of cardboard, and he’s beginning to suspect he’s getting too old to be pulling this stuff anymore without risking throwing his back out. He should really ask for a pay raise…
Price thinks he must still be half asleep when he spots Gaz walking over to the barracks, his hands stuffed in his pockets, a grin on his face and a suspicious pep to his step, but then he and the man in question make eye contact, and the shock in Gaz’s eyes tells him everything he needs to know.
“Up late, Sergeant?” Price asks from the shadows he’s lingering in, and his sensitive ears don’t miss the curse that quietly slips from Gaz’s lips.
“Yessir,” Gaz answers with a bashful hue to his words, as if he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and his spine automatically straightens in his superior’s presence. “Had some trouble sleeping so I went out for a walk.”
The captain quickly spots the shake to Gaz’s shoulders, illustrating just how underprepared the younger man was for his midnight stroll. “Without a jacket on this chilly night?”
Gaz noncommittally shrugs, but the twitch of his lips tells Price everything he needs to know. “Didn’t need one. Walking around kept me warm enough.”
Price hums in response, then extinguishes the cigar butt out on the sole of his boot before shoving it into his pocket to dispose of in a proper garbage can. He turns to leave, but not before tossing over his shoulder, “‘fraid that pink isn’t quite your shade, Sergeant. Might want to go for a more copper tone.”
He softly chuckles as he hears Gaz swear and the telltale ruffling of him swiping at his face.
As observant as Price is, however, it took him a little while longer to realize just who that shade of pink suits very well.
Soap is as reckless as Price is cautious, so it’s no surprise that the other three members of the 141 are in the infirmary waiting for your arrival while Johnny sits in an uncomfortable plastic chair, his arm casted and his head bandaged from his latest stunt during their mission.
”Where’s mah bonnie?” Johnny slurs out, the pain killers’s effect thick in his voice, and Gaz softly smiles—a smile he quickly drops when he feels Price’s eyes on him. “I wan’ mah bonnie.”
“She’s on her way, Soap,” Price replies, his tone mild, as if dealing with a petulant child. “She can’t just drop everything the second you do something stupid, or else she’d never get anything done.”
”I wan’ mah bonnie…,” Soap repeats with a pout but stays quiet, much to everyone’s surprise.
The bubble of relief Price feels upon seeing you locate them quickly pops when he spots a familiar shade of pink on your lips, and he struggles to keep his composure as you walk up to him with an anxious expression on your sweet face. 
“How bad is it?” you ask.
And goddammit, you sound so genuinely worried, such the dedicated, love wife of  one of his best sergeants that he almost thinks it’s just the lighting of the fluorescent hospital bulbs that’s giving your lips the same color he spotted on Gaz just weeks ago. Hell, he wants to think one too many blows to the head is finally starting to fuck with his memory and there’s no way in hell it’s the same color, but the way Gaz’s shoulders relax as soon as you make eye contact with him is the final nail in the coffin. 
Something is going on between you and Gaz, and he needs to find out before the whole damn thing explodes.
It takes him a few weeks, but Price is nothing but a patient man when the situation calls for it. Violence and timing is his motto for a reason. Well, hopefully no violence on his end this time, but he can’t make any promises for Gaz and Soap’s end considering just how over-the-moon the Scotsman is for you. He hopes and prays to whatever entity is up there that he’s just being overly cautious, that he’s overthinking things, that his paranoia has reached an all-time high and he needs to finally take that vacation Laswell has been pestering to take, but yours and Gaz’s subtly flirtatious behavior around each other at a bar the four of you piled into together makes the sour feelings in his stomach twist and churn. Goddamn Simon for being so elusive and forcing him to deal with this on his own…
All night, he watches the three of you, how handsy Soap is with you and how familiar the rare touches Gaz gives you are. That goddamn shade of pink on your lips shining under the bar lights. The giggles that leave your lips at a joke Gaz makes and how your hand presses into his chest. How he lopsidedly grins until he remembers where he’s at and schools his features. How he and Soap keep exchanging knowing glances over your shoulders when they think Price isn’t looking. But he’s looking alright. Looking and waiting for the perfect moment to get you alone to confront you.
Violence and timing.
Luckily, after a few drinks, Soap and Gaz decide to go outside to share a cigarette and you stay behind. You’ve always detested the smell of cigarettes, and Soap’s habit of having a few cigarettes while out and drinking is one of the rare bickerments you two have. But right now, it’s Price’s saving grace.
“Enjoying yourself tonight, Mactavish?” Price asks.
You perk up on your side of the booth as if you had forgotten he’s there (he wouldn’t blame you if you had—he’s been awfully quiet tonight) and flash him a polite, if slightly detached, smile. The military wife smile. The one all of the commanding officers get from the spouses. It feels particularly deceitful tonight, and he almost feels bad for thinking so. Might have too, if the bar lights didn’t shine perfectly on your wedding rings and he’s reminded of what he has to do.
You finger traces the rim of your empty glass, and you nod. “You can just call me by my name, sir.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Is Mactavish not your name?”
You chuckle in response and your posture eases a bit, legs stretching until he feels your foot graze against his, your eyes darting unmistakably from his lips up to his eyes. “It is, but I have a first name too, you know.”
Are you flirting with him? Your husband is outside sharing a cigarette with a man he suspects you of sleeping with, and you’re flirting with him? His fingers clutch his glass as his temper spikes a bit, but he remains levelheaded. Innocent until proven guilty, right? “We’ll stick with Mactavish for now. Don’t want the boys thinking I’m giving you any special treatment, do we?” he replies with a hint of flirtation, just to see if you take the bait.
The subtle way you bite your bottom lip tells him you not only take the bait, but you’re going down hook, line, and sinker. Your foot bumps against his again, but rather than pulling away this time, it gently caresses him, lingering around so there’s no mistaking the feeling of your heel grazing against his ankle and causing an involuntary shiver to wrack his spine. And fucking hell, it’s either been too long since he’s gotten laid or his tolerance has gone down and two glasses of whiskey is suddenly too much for his metabolism, but he can feel himself wanting to respond to your touch. It doesn’t help that the dress you’ve chosen to wear tonight has a halter neckline and a draped skirt—two of Price’s personal weaknesses—and the necklace you donne does wonders for your cleavage. You’re absolutely dressed to kill tonight, and if Price were half as scummy as Nikola thinks him to be, he would’ve scooped you right up and take you straight to the grimy stall to fuck your brains out. But, alas, his conscious is still intact and working very well tonight, no matter how much his dick is pleading for him to not listen to it for once.
A captain, wanting to fuck his sergeant’s wife? No amount of under-the-table favors and chest candy could ever clean up that mess.
“No, we don’t,” you finally reply after a tense moment, your eyes still resting on his. “Even if I do deserve it.”
What an interesting choice of words… He takes a sip of his drink to mull over his next words, and when you mimic the action, there’s no mistaking your intentions. Goddamn Soap and his love of dangerous women. “Oh? Bit confident, are we?” He leans into the table more, determined to invade your space and make you squirm. “What makes you so sure you deserve it?”
You nod, and the politely detached smile on your face slowly melts into a more seductive one, a knowing quirk curling at the edge of your lips, and suddenly, Price is no longer sure who’s caught in whose web. Matching his energy, you lean in as well, until there’s nothing but a few centimeters between you two, his blue eyes boring into yours, your minty breath mixing with his whiskey. “You’ve been staring down at my tits all night, Captain, and I hate to say, but it isn’t the first time I’ve caught you doing so. Now I don’t know about you, but I don’t tend to stare at my sergeant's wife's tits. So either, I’m getting special treatment or you’re just a pervert. Which one is it, Captain?”
His mouth immediately opens to reply, but before any words can form, he spots Soap’s familiar mohawk moving over to your table, and he quickly pulls away and even leans back into the cushion, as if to prove a point. Soap slips in next to you, the smell of cigarettes causing your nose to wrinkle, and Gaz slips in next to Price, a low chuckle on his lips as if still laughing about a joke Soap said while the two were outside. The dopey, lovesick grin Soap gives you is enough to make guilt nip at Price’s insides (he was thinking about fucking you just moments ago, goddammit), but the way you lean in to kiss Soap while still making eye contact with the captain makes his temper boil all over again. Normally, you’d fuss over allowing Soap to kiss you so soon after a cigarette, playfully shoving him aside and making him at least chew a stick of gum before pressing his mouth to yours. But right now, sitting across from Captain John Price in that goddamn dress with that goddamn necklace and that goddamn shade of pink swiped over your lips, you sensually, borderline pornographically, slot your lips against your husband’s (his sergeant). The kiss goes on long enough that even Gaz is unabashedly gawking, his eyes darting from your hand on Soap’s chest to your mouths tangled together to your breasts and how they squish and form against Soap’s body.
And maybe Soap is too drunk to notice just how close you two had been when he walked in, or notice the way you had looked at Price before losing yourself in him, but Price is all too painfully aware of everything that’s currently going on at the table, especially all of the things you aren’t saying. It can’t be more clear than the love that Soap has for you, that you want to fuck Captain John Price and that you’ve, at the very least, kissed Gaz well enough that he follows you around almost as your own husband does.
Soap might be the demolition’s expert, but you seem to love to play with fire, and Price isn’t sure who’s going to get burned.
Price goes home that night more sexually and emotionally frustrated than he’s been in the last fifteen years. 
You, Kyle, and Johnny go home to your place to fuck until none of you can see straight and your appetites for pleasure and pain are satiated.
And somewhere out there, Simon Riley snores away in his room, completely unaware of the turmoil that’s currently brewing in the 141.
“Johnny, I want to fuck your captain,” you announce the next morning over a cup of fresh tea.
The grin that spreads across Johnny’s lips is nothing less than utterly wolfish, and he barks out a laugh before kissing the crown of your head. “If ye’ can get that bastard in our bedroom, ye’ can fuck him until yer heart’s content.”
“Sounds easy enough.”��
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honeydazai · 7 months
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ok ok but hubby Fyodor gave me an idea, he’s figured out i get worried when his anemia gets bad so i fuss over him
imagine like,,, him using that against u. like if he’s losing an argument, or he just wants attention, he fakes sickness to get u to drop everything ur doing and come to his aid, u immediately feel bad so he uses that to manipulate u
feat.: Fyodor / reader
content: husband Fyodor, some manipulation but it's cute, Fyodor pretending to be a pathetic meow meow, fluff, sick fic
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Fyodor is fragile, that much you're aware of.
Despite his quick mind, so sharp you reckon it could cut diamond, and his powerful ability, his physical body is still frail. His skin is pale, most likely since he spends too much time inside, hunched over in front of his many PC screens, providing him with no light other than the gloom of LED monitors, thin fingers tip-tapping away on the keyboard. His undereye circles are dark enough for you to seriously worry about his health, and the many blue veins visible on thin eyelids only make him appear more sickly.
The anemia doesn't help, either; thin lips occasionally turn whiteish the longer he insists he's going to take his iron supplements once he's done with work — when is he, ever? — and his nails, kept short not only for the sake of being able to play the cello, but also since he continued biting at them, are coloured blue so often you have almost forgotten what they usually look like.
Fyodor, despite being an internationally wanted terrorist, is fragile, and that's exactly why you're unable to stop the way your chest suddenly aches with concern when he goes quiet mid-argument, gaze unfocused, glassy, as he sits down on the bed.
This really isn't the time to worry about him, especially since, just a few moments ago, you were snarling at him, obviously angered for a reason that seems entirely unimportant right now — and yet you can't help it either, your concern an emotion that blooms in your chest so very naturally, given just how much he means to you.
“Are you alright?” The words leave your mouth before you know it; your brows furrowing as you kneel down next to him, one hand on his thin upper arm. Even through the fabric of his shirt, his skin is cold. “Do you need anything?”
“I'm quite alright, dear. I would hate to bother you, especially when you still seem to harbour disdain for me.”
Even his voice sounds frail. Guilt gnaws at your every bone.
“That's not—”, you protest, a feeble attempt, though you're quick to swallow the urge to start another argument down the moment he rests his head against the wall, eyes fluttering shut, ebony lashes against snow pale skin. “I don't 'harbour disdain' . I didn't even want to fight with you, it just — happened, but that's not important now. Let me help. Did you take your meds today?”
“Not yet, I'm afraid”, Fyodor says softly, and you're up on your feet almost immediately, making your way towards the kitchen to snag the offending pills, as well as a glass of water.
“You know you're supposed to take them daily with lunch.”
“That is merely to avoid forgetting them, to build a habit. The presence or absence of sustenance has no actual effect on them.”
Your eyes narrow. Fyodor allows a tired chuckle to leave his lips.
“Alright. I will try to take them regularly — for you, dear.”
Where, just a few minutes ago, you felt the urge to slap him with wrath — not that you ever would, not that you'd dare to, but the desire certainly is there whenever he acts all high and mighty, all-knowing, even around you —, your chest now tingles with warmth, with fondness. With love.
“Thank you. Are you feeling better already?” That's to be doubted, especially since he only took the pills a moment ago. Still— “Do you need anything? Maybe something to eat — yes, I bet you haven't eaten anything in a while now, too focused on work. You're impossible. Just lie down and give me a moment, I'll be right back.”
With those words, you vanish into the kitchen, already grabbing some vegetables. A quick soup is going to have to do.
Little do you know that, while you're busy worrying and fussing over him, there's a smile playing over Fyodor's lips ever so often, vanishing the moment you enter the room once more.
You really are too easy — though that's exactly what makes you quite this lovable.
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OH. Oh, he would.. he so would... this is the most in character take ever...
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hurts2think · 2 months
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Hi I just thought of this but could you maybe do Bridgette x fem reader? Reader is like how Evie was in d2 and making everyone’s dresses for castlecoming? She’s making Bridgette’s dress and Bridgette was originally supposed to go with Ella but since Ella is grounded she has no one to go with. Reader has a crush on her and asks her to go instead
🎀Young!Bridget Hearts x Reader🎀
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Reader pronouns: She/her
Pairing: Young!Bridget Hearts x Fem!reader
Plot: Reader is making everyone's dresses for Castlecoming but isn't going herself. Afterall, the only girl she wants to go with is going with someone else. That is, until her date cancels on her last minute.
Word Count: 1.4k
Extra: I'm sorry this one feels very flat and definitely not my best writing, regardless thank you so much for your support. I get so happy to see you guys like my writing🫶🥹
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Castlecoming comes only once a year but it was nothing you were too fond of. Well, except for the fact it was the time of year you made the most money.
Towards the end of Freshman year you started making dresses, suits, jackets, anything you could think of really to sell. It's been a hobby of yours for your entire life, making dresses out of curtains and safety pins, and one day you got really good at it.
It was actually your friend Bridget who suggested you should start making money off of it.
So then, on every school dance, event, or occasion that a specific person had, you were commissioned to make their dress or suit. You loved what you did and you were proud of it. But now, making all these dresses for Castlecoming made you feel a little... Sad.
Sad that no one had asked you, sad that the only girl you wanted to go with was going with someone else, and sad you'd be missing out on the biggest event of the year. Again.
You tried to put all of the aside and just focus on the dress you're making, but it was hard considering it was being worn by the girl you wished you could go with so deeply.
"Does the bodice fit you okay? Is it too tight?" You asked, adjusting the bodice from behind the pink girl to fit her.
"Oh, it's perfect." She replied, trying her best to hold still while you worked.
You didn't say anything at first, but Bridget seemed a little down. The past couple days you saw her she was practically bursting with excitment. Her best friend, Ella, had asked her to the dance and she was so excited to go. Honestly, when she told you, you wanted to be happy for her but you couldn't help but feel a little jealous.
But now you couldn't help but notice Bridget didn't seem very excited and was pretty quiet compared to her usually self.
"So, uhm, is something wrong?" You finally ask after a long silence while you still work on the little details and fixing the measurements of her dress.
Bridget shifted slightly at the question, "Yeah everything's fine." She laughed half heartedly, "It's just... Ella got grounded the other day. So we won't be able to go to Castlecoming together."
You were honestly a little surprised to hear that. What was Ella grounded for? Was Bridget still going to Castlecoming? "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that..." You say quietly, "Are you going with someone else?"
Though you couldn't see Bridget's face, you could tell she had that sad smile she does occasionally. The sad smile that could crush your heart into a million pieces, "No. But, I figured I should go anyway. I did already pay for the dress, right?" She laughed awkwardly.
For another moment you stayed silent.
You knew Ella and Bridget were only going to the dance together as friends, so maybe you did have a chance with Bridget. But she seemed so sad, it felt like maybe it wasn't the right time to ask her. You would feel like an awful person if you tried using her misfortune for your own sake. "So there's... No one else you'd want to go with?"
Bridget sighed, "Well you and Ella are my only friends... And you already said you weren't going. So not really..."
"Uhm. I said that?" You laughed nervously, knowing full well you did in fact tell her you weren't going.
She looked over her bare shoulder to look at you in the face, "Yeah. You said dances weren't your style and that you wanted to focus on making everyone's outfits."
You glance away from her before clearing your throat, "That does sound like something I probably said..." You trailed off, "But ... Maybe I changed my mind." You say bashfully, only glancing in Bridget's direction.
Her face suddenly lit up and she spun around so her whole body was facing you, "Oh my gosh! You're going? Did someone ask you out? Who was it?" Her whole attitude suddenly changed, basically bursting at the seams with happiness for you.
You felt your face heat up a little embarrassment, "No—! No! No one asked me... I just thought uhm, maybe it would be fun."
Bridget smiled brightly and took your hand that wasn't currently holding a needle and thread, "We should totally go together then! If you have no one to go with, and I have no one to go with, it works perfectly." She giggles, spinning herself under your arm, careful to not mess up her dress.
You felt your face heat up at the declaration and her sudden action, "Oh, uhm,"
"And we can take tons of pictures with my new camera, it'll be so fun! I heard it's just as fun to go with friends than with a date." She continued with her glowing smile.
That smile made your heart beat faster. You slowly let go of her hand, "About that, Bridget..." You start, unsure of what the right words were.
Her expression suddenly turned to concern. "Oh! Do you not want to? I'm sorry, it's okay if you don't want to go together." She reassured, though she definitely looked disappointed.
"No no! It's not that! I do want to go with you, I really do," you say, your heart beating a little faster at the thought of what you wanted to say.
You never felt so nervous before. Asking one of your best friends to a dance in a not-so-friendly way was a little terrifying. You didn't want to ruin the wonderful friendship you had with her in case things turned wrong.
"Then what is it..?" She asked, her tone was so soft. She was always so soft and sweet. She felt like a bouquet of pink flowers with pedals that feel like silk.
You take a deep breath and look her in the eye, "I was just hoping maybe... We could go as... More than friends...?" You finally asked, feeling like you were about to collapse from the anxiety of it.
Bridget's eyes suddenly widened in surprise, "Wait, wait... Really?"
You averted your eyes away, still incredibly embarrassed and just nodded your head without a word.
Bridget suddenly squealed in excitement, and threw her arms around you, "I would love to!"
The hug caught you off guard but you smiled and hugged her back. She hugged you tighter, making it hard for you to breathe and also worry that she would tear her unfinished dress, "Bridget! The dress!" You warn.
She let go of you, "Sorry sorry, I guess I just got excited," she giggled before grabbing your hand again with both of hers, "I'm so happy you asked me."
You smiled and looked at her with such admiration in your eyes, "Well... Let's get this dress done before we run of our of time." You chuckle, smoothing out her dress that got wrinkled from the intense hug.
Bridget laughed, "Yeah. That's probably a good idea. Thank you." She said, leaning forward and kissing you on the cheek, making your face burn again.
"You're the one paying me for the dress..." You laugh softly.
"That's not what I meant." Bridget fidgeted with your hand that was intertwined with yours, "Thank you for asking me. You really are wonderful. If I were to go with anyone to the dance as more than friends, I'm glad it's you."
All of this talk was making you flustered to the break of explosion. Bridget really was the sweetest girl in the world. It was hard to believe she even remotely felt the same way about you, "I guess it's just easy for me to recognize how amazing someone can be." You smile widely.
Bridget giggled yet again, "Maybe after Castlecoming, if you don't decide that you regret asking me, we could maybe be more than friends? Like, girlfriends?" She asked with a bashful smile, her own face turning slightly pink.
You nodded quickly, "I'd really love that." You could never regret this decision. Bridget was so amazing and perfect in every way, how could you ever not want to be her girlfriend?
You couldn't wait to dance with her. You couldn't wait to see her in the finished dress with her hair done and looking beautiful as ever. You couldn't wait to spin her around and watch the sparkly pink hearts on her dress glimmer in the lights. You couldn't wait to hold her after the dance and just giggle to each other all night long.
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desolateyears · 1 year
Text
Have a mini fic about Steve annotating books and Eddie finding it really hot🖤
So obviously, Eddie's a bookworm. Before he had any friends, he spent the better parts of his childhood at Hawkins Library after school and Hawkins Middle's library during any recesses and lunches. He constantly read books, this was before Wayne got him a guitar and before he got into dnd, and being a bookworm tremendously helped him fuel both of those hobbies later on. But before then? The library was like a second home to him. 
And so, recently founding out that Steve reads, like a lot, is something of a revalation. It's not that Eddie thinks the guy is stupid, but he figured the guy spent time doing other productive hobbies at home. But the guy reads, and as previously mentioned, Eddie considers himself a literature connoisseur of sorts. Writing book reports and essays were one of the few things he actually excelled at in high school. 
So anyway, he found out that Steve is a book nerd by finding one of Steve's books open on his bed. Not really the strangest thing that Eddie's come across in Steve's room if he's being honest, and not the biggest indicator of nerdiness, until he focuses his attention and acknowledges the bright colors sprawled across the pages. 
A burst of rainbow colors underlining what Eddie guesses are his favorite parts of the story or important stuff he wanted to remember. And obviously, Eddie has to ask him about it. and Steve explains to him that he has a whole color key and it's made up of romantic lines that make him feel warm, sad stuff that makes him tear up, stuff that is word for word undoubtedly Steve Harrington sprawled on a page. Steve won't tell him which color is which, too embarrassed by it, but he lets Eddie read through them, and then he stares at Steve in unyeilding fondness. 
The look reflected on Steve's is not the same, mostly anxiety and insecurity, which Eddie immediately wants to soothe. It's so so sweet he thinks but Eddie's mouth translates the words into, "That's so fucking hot." Which, shit man, it is but he hadn't meant to say it out loud. 
"Shut up, dude, don't make fun of me right now." 
And listen, books are everything to him, this is no joking matter. They inspire his own stories, whether through a dnd campaign or writing song lyrics. It's honestly probably the most attractive thing a person could do in Eddie's opinion, he didn't know how hot until right about now, but he'll die on this hill. Annotating your books is hot. 
"Listen to me when I say this Steve, while that is the nerdiest thing I've ever heard and I'm, ya know, me. It's also about the most attractive thing that's come out of that pretty mouth of yours, like ever."
And Steve folds his arms across his fucking beautifully sculpted chest and narrows his eyes just slightly, raising a judgemental eyebrow at him. 
"You're being serious."
Oh he's never been more serious about anything in his life. 
"Uh...yeah? Yes. Oh my god."
Yeah, real eloquent Edward. 
Whatever, his heart is pounding profuesely against his rib cage because holy shit Steve is a book nerd and Eddie wants to kiss him fucking yesterday. So he gets on all fours on Steve's bed to lean forward and basically attacks his mouth before he can even think about it. 
And when he pulls back, Steve's pupils are blown wide and his breath has picked up pace, and Steve keeps bouncing between looking at Eddie's eyes and his lips. 
"You just kissed me."
It comes out disbelieving. 
"Yeah and with your permission I'd like to continue, like stat, immediately, now."
"You're insane."
And hands weave through curls and pull. 
Eddie tumbles foward, ending fully sprawled on top of Steve, and, jesus christ, body pressed impossibly close to his. 
And after they're romantic, read: nerdy horniness, little makeout session, he forces Steve to read the annotations himself, going through all the books that are important to Steve. He has to stop himself from moaning to really emphasize how hot he finds it, and to make Steve slightly embarrassed, but refrains. Just lets him continue. 
Eddie has never been so in love in his life.
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