tendΕ satori x f!reader | fluff
cw: suggestive content, read at your own risk.
;; boyfriend!tendΕ is the type to treat your apartment like a shared skin, an extension of his own lanky frame. time hasnβt dulled that frantic, electric energy of his; itβs just mellowed into something more domestic. heβs no longer the βguess monsterβ of shiratorizawa, but he still reads you like a playbook, anticipating your needs before youβve even fully processed them yourself.
β;; boyfriend!tendΕ has developed a very specific morning ritual that involves him looming over you while youβre still half-submerged in sleep. he doesnβt wake you up with a kiss or a gentle shake; instead, he rests his chin on your shoulder and hums whatever pop song is currently stuck in his head until you groan and swat at him. he loves the way you look when youβre grumpy and sleep-muddledβitβs the only time he feels like heβs actually the βcalmβ one in the relationship.
β;; boyfriend!tendΕ takes a strange pride in your skincare routine. heβll sit on the closed toilet lid while you do your nightly steps, swinging his long legs and critiquing your technique. eventually, his handsβthose huge, scarred, beautiful blockerβs handsβwill find their way to your face. heβll insist on applying your moisturizer for you, his touch surprisingly light and clinical, mapping out the architecture of your bones with a reverent focus that makes your stomach do backflips.
β;; boyfriend!tendΕ loves accidental intimacy. heβs always touching youβa thumb hooked into your belt loop while youβre standing in line, his chest pressed against your back while youβre trying to cook, his cold toes seeking out the warmth of your calves under the duvet. he wants to be intertwined with you, a human puzzle piece that only fits when heβs draped over your lap or tucked into the crook of your neck.
β;; boyfriend!tendΕ has a very particular way of looking at you when the sun starts to set and the lighting in the room turns that heavy, honey-gold color. heβll stop mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing as he tracks the way the light hits your throat or the curve of your lip. he doesnβt say anything, but the air gets thick, charged with a tension that feels like static electricity. heβll just reach out, hook a finger under your chin, and tilt your head back, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw with a slow, agonizing deliberation that says more than any βi love youβ ever could.
β;; boyfriend!tendΕ is surprisingly observant about your wardrobe. he notices when you buy something new; he notices which fabrics make you feel confident and which ones make you itch. heβll buy you high-end loungewearβthe kind that costs way too much for one clothingβjust because he likes the way it feels when he pulls you flush against him. heβs a tactile creature, and he wants everything you wear to be an invitation for him to get closer.
β;; boyfriend!tendΕ makes the most chaotic, delicious dinners youβve ever had. he doesnβt follow recipes; he βvibesβ with the ingredients (his words, not mine). the kitchen usually looks like a disaster zone afterward, flour on the ceiling and chocolate on his nose, but the food is always incredible. heβll feed you directly from the wooden spoon, his eyes fixed on your mouth, waiting for that little hum of approval you make when something tastes good. that sound is his favorite melody, and heβll do anything to provoke it.
β;; boyfriend!tendΕ has a βno phonesβ rule for the first thirty minutes after he gets home. he needs to βrecalibrate,β which usually involves him dragging you onto the couch and burying his face in your neck. he breathes you in like youβre oxygen and heβs been underwater all day. heβll murmur nonsense about his dayβabout a weird bird he saw, about how much he missed the specific scent of your shampooβuntil he feels the tension bleed out of your shoulders and into his hands.
β;; boyfriend!tendΕ loves to test your boundaries in the most playful, maddening ways. heβll whisper things in your ear while youβre in publicβnothing loud, just low-frequency observations about how your clothes are sitting so well with your body or how much he wants to get you homeβand then act completely innocent when you try to strangle him out of pure frustration. he thrives on the secret language you two share, the way a single look from across a crowded room can make your heart hammer against your ribs.
β;; boyfriend!tendΕ is the most loyal person you will ever meet. heβs been the βweirdβ kid his whole life, so he treats your love like a sacred, impossible miracle. if youβre sad, he offers a distraction, a performance, a physical shield against the world. heβll wrap his long arms around you, tucking your head under his chin, and let you hide there until you feel brave enough to face the light again. heβs your sanctuary, and he makes sure you know that you are his.
;; boyfriend!tendΕ is dangerous with a tempering spatula and a vision. since opening his shop in paris, his appreciation for βtextureβ has translated into a very hands-on approach with you. he treats your skin like the finest ganacheβsomething to be tasted, smoothed, and worked until itβs exactly the right temperature.
β;; boyfriend!tendΕ loves to bring work home with him in the most literal sense. heβll have you sit on the kitchen counter, your legs draped over his hips, while he βexperimentsβ with a new infusion. heβll dip a finger into a bowl of melted, dark chocolate and trail it slowly down the sensitive dip of your collarbone, watching the way your breath hitches with a predatory sort of focus. he doesnβt let you wipe it off; he prefers to clean up the mess himself, his tongue lingering on your pulse point until youβre shaking under his hands.
β;; boyfriend!tendΕ has a very specific βtastingβ ritual. he likes to place a single, handcrafted truffle between his teeth and lean in, forcing you to take half of it from him. the friction of his lips against yours, the bitterness of the cocoa melting between your tongues, and the way he growls low in his throat when you try to pull away too soonβitβs enough to make your knees weak. heβs a perfectionist, and he won't stop until heβs tasted the sugar on every inch of you.
β;; boyfriend!tendΕ finds endless ways to use simple ingredients to drive you crazy. honey, whipped cream, or even just a stray strawberryβin his hands, theyβre tools for your undoing. heβll tell you to βstay stillβ in that voice that isnβt a request at all, his long, nimble fingers tracing patterns of sweetness over your skin before he follows the trail with slow, deliberate laps. he likes to see how long it takes for your composure to shatter, his eyes wide and glinting with a manic sort of hunger.
β;; boyfriend!tendΕ is incredibly vocal when heβs got you where he wants you. he wants to hear the exact moment your thoughts turn to mush. heβll murmur descriptions of the flavors heβs finding on your skinβsweet, salty, savoryβhis voice dropping to a gravelly register that vibrates against your thighs. he treats your body like his favorite recipe, one heβs memorized but still finds new ways to enjoy every single night.
β;; boyfriend!tendΕ has a thing for spilled treats. if a bit of caramel or fruit reduction happens to land on your inner thigh or the swell of your chest, he wonβt reach for a napkin. heβll just hum that eerie, playful little tune of his, his eyes darkening as he crawls over you. his shirt is half-unbuttoned, and the look he gives you is pure, unadulterated gluttony. heβs a chocolatier, after all; he knows exactly how to handle something so decadent.
;; boyfriend!tendΕ gets a terrifyingly glinting look in his eyes when he decides youβre going to be his βcanvasβ for the evening. heβll have you lay back on the cool sheets, completely at his mercy, while he brings out a bowl of silk-smooth, warm white chocolate. he doesnβt pour it; instead, he uses a pastry brush to paint intricate, swirling patterns across the sensitive skin of your stomach, the insides of your thighs, and in between. he watches the way your muscles twitch under the bristles with a low, jagged laugh, whispering about how unbearably delicious you look when youβre coated in white chocolate, before he begins to slowly, methodically lick the skin clean, making sure to miss a few spots just so he has an excuse to go back over them again.
n: now.. before anyone calls me a freak.. this is for @lsirria again, my greedy freaky moot, ily.
this was supposed to be a direct follow up but i got distracted by jumpchannelβs livestream
Β© showhay β donβt copy or translate without my permission. donβt feed my works to ai.
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