Can't touch me, like Gojo—Look good in all my photos
Eventually all the rigidity leaves him like a sigh, and Kaisel sinks back into the couch, Flora tipped into that small decline with him as they both melt into the residual bliss. For a time, he knows nothing but the feel of their heartbeats humming along together, the gradual slowing of sides frantic to reclaim air, especially hers. Beyond the simmering heat of her draped over him, disaster tiptoed past and then tamed into something useful, he forgets what else could possibly exist.
It’s only when she starts to rise, like sunlight creeping back in after a storm has dispersed, does he also start to stir. The moment of serenity surrenders back to the reality that for a while they managed to dodge. Still parting from the dreamy haze of release and his wonder of this woman, his gaze is lazy as it unfurls from beneath half-lidded lashes to find her in response to the gentle touch that cups his cheeks. The moment he does see her though, his smile blooms fresh and full.
He indulges in the press of her lips, a low, ”mmm,” humming free in welcome. His hands have lingered at her sides, anchored to her, though the lines have since gone slack. They haul up and across her back now in response to the way she shifts, skimming her skin as he lightly cradles her, the support there for her to lean back into. Each puckering kiss is punctuated with a smile, one that grows bashful as she confesses her love, as if every time is a new one to experience that flutter in his chest all over again. ”I adore you, my love,” he mumbles back into her mouth before she pulls back wholly.
Blinking as if awaking, his eyelids finally opening in full, lashes like pajamas his attention has shed, he regards her with a warmth that keeps his stare shimmering. Her question lands like a harsh beam of daylight cutting in through the window, the golden fog of dawn stripped away. He’d been actively trying to avoid thinking of what got them to this stretched out moment of happiness, but there’s no avoiding it now. His attention at once drops to her neck, searching for evidence of what they’d done. A hand slips from her back, pushing beneath the curtain of her curls, thumb brushing delicately against the side of her neck. He exhales steadily as his eyes find hers again. ”Did I do it right?” he asks, not ignoring her question so much as finding the answer for her. ”I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
It’s only when she starts to rise, like sunlight creeping back in after a storm has dispersed, does he also start to stir. The moment of serenity surrenders back to the reality that for a while they managed to dodge. Still parting from the dreamy haze of release and his wonder of this woman, his gaze is lazy as it unfurls from beneath half-lidded lashes to find her in response to the gentle touch that cups his cheeks. The moment he does see her though, his smile blooms fresh and full.
He indulges in the press of her lips, a low, ”mmm,” humming free in welcome. His hands have lingered at her sides, anchored to her, though the lines have since gone slack. They haul up and across her back now in response to the way she shifts, skimming her skin as he lightly cradles her, the support there for her to lean back into. Each puckering kiss is punctuated with a smile, one that grows bashful as she confesses her love, as if every time is a new one to experience that flutter in his chest all over again. ”I adore you, my love,” he mumbles back into her mouth before she pulls back wholly.
Blinking as if awaking, his eyelids finally opening in full, lashes like pajamas his attention has shed, he regards her with a warmth that keeps his stare shimmering. Her question lands like a harsh beam of daylight cutting in through the window, the golden fog of dawn stripped away. He’d been actively trying to avoid thinking of what got them to this stretched out moment of happiness, but there’s no avoiding it now. His attention at once drops to her neck, searching for evidence of what they’d done. A hand slips from her back, pushing beneath the curtain of her curls, thumb brushing delicately against the side of her neck. He exhales steadily as his eyes find hers again. ”Did I do it right?” he asks, not ignoring her question so much as finding the answer for her. ”I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Kaisel
Sexy jutsu, I feel like Naruto—Fightin' demons in my head like I'm Itadori
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
