#☼ — &&. ( mirror . )

[moorejosie]

[fatedefyd]

   momma and her baby...

[geroya]

wait oh my god im going thru old drafts & im SO surprised i never posted this (confused about what held me back on it) but.....

demigod keme & being cursed to devour himself over and over again, hungry for something more than what has been given to him (what is EXPECTED of him) and so he attempts to fill that desire by feeding others, keeping them full, taking care of them, hoping that it will fill him up & devouring himself over and over again

[poulterwj]

Will Poulter in Why Didn't They Ask Evans?

[kalihanded]

⸻ ❝ The Hindu goddess Kali is the ultimate expression of 𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒, 𝑏𝑜𝑡𝘩 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡. She protects her people against evil by doing 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 to protect those she loves. The Indian goddess Kali embodies the power of 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 in one entity. She transcends good and evil. ❞

↳ #𝑲𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑫 is portraying &. writing as 𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐈 from the KUROSHITSUJI ( black butler ) franchise. penned by malikai. featuring references to indian culture &. hinduism during the 1880's. this blog is 21+ and not spoiler free.

navigation links ~ ! ⸻ * about . * ask memes . * carrd . * promo . * headcanons . credit ~ ! ⸻ * graphics .

⸻ ❝ 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 &. 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 .

𝐈 . as aforementioned, any transphobia will result in a block. this includes racism, homophobia, antisemitism, and any sort of other discrimination against minorities. be a generally courteous person, not an ignorant loudly proclaiming prejudice.

𝐈𝐈 . activity is sparse. real life comes first. with that in mind, be aware my silence is due from external means. tumblr writing is not my obligation, it is a side project and/or hobby.

adding onto this, i tend to reply slowly to both IC and OOC interactions. my real life outranks writing in my priority scale. please do not push me for replies, it worsens my anxiety &. it will lead to socially distancing from said individual. nothing against the person, it is an innate bad habit.

𝐈𝐈𝐈 . i openly ship. if i have an idea for romantic chemistry, i may reference it. however, i will not push it upon another, nor would i appreciate others pushing their characters onto me.

𝐈𝐕 . no, you are not spamming my inbox. always send prompts or memes. i wholeheartedly welcome it. so long as there is no anonymous hate sent, my inbox is open to all.

𝐕 . i am an adult. i presume most of my followers are. please act your age; any drama, vague-posting, harassment will result in an instantaneous block. this isn't twitter, you're not a vigilante seeking justice. resolve your issues privately.

i do not like to block people. however, when it concerns perpetuating drama on the dashboard, inciting harassment toward other writers, i disavow. i will hard-block you. regardlessof what contents it has, i do not want the additional stress in my life. if you intend to reblog callouts, please tag them appropriately with "cw drama" or "drama".

𝐕𝐈 . if you intend to block me out of the blue, please inform me why out of sheer courtesy. this is not an enforced policy, it is more-so my wanting to understand why. i will not be offended if you choose not to.

𝐕𝐈𝐈 . Normally I do not mind, but if you refer to me as your “friend” after having only 3 separate conversations and nothing personal entailing them, then we are not friends, we are acquaintances. furthermore, if you begin to "love bomb" ( read the definition here ) me on our first interaction, i will be wary of your intentions. i do not assume said person harbors malicious intent, it comes from previous experiences wherein love-bombing resulted in built-up resentment from unresolved conflicts not imparted on both sides.

TO CLARIFY: that does not mean i am unreceptive to establishing friendships, this is entirely false. there is a lot of nuance when it comes to online interactions &. setting social boundaries. i welcome people to directly message me on here or on tumblr ! this guideline simply exists solely to help un-blur the line between what constitutes a friend from an acquaintance. a friend knows who you are outside the screen; there is consistent, constant interaction off tumblr. whereas an acquaintance is when both parties have tangible interactions, only knowing each other at surface-level.

[fallingofleviathan]

Tag Tracker - ⤷ Leviathan ☼ Musings ☾ ⤷ Leviathan ☼ Mirror Mirror On The Wall ☾ ⤷ Leviathan ☼ Spotify ☾ ⤷ Leviathan ☼ Social Square ☾ ⤷ Leviathan ☼ Introduction ☾ ⤷ Leviathan ☼ Interactions ☾

[ladyseidr]

officially adding her now, so tag dump.

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Fem!Reader ☼ 946 words

The way I'm thinking I need to have a universe for these two

“He’s precious! He looks just like his daddy.” Miriam gushes, leaning in closer to Henry. James cringes as his baby boy flinches away, burying his head into his father’s chest and eyeing the woman with uncertainty. Henry's tiny hands clutch James’s shirt, seeking comfort and protection from the unfamiliar face.

James knows Miriam from school, but they have never been close. She has always been the life of the party, a role he once embraced during their Hogwarts days. Now, her enthusiasm feels overwhelming, especially to his shy and sensitive son. Perhaps he has mellowed more than he realizes since then—having a child at 20 would surely do that to you.

Miriam straightens up, placing a manicured hand on his bicep. With a slight pout to her lips, she says softly, “I heard about what happened to you and his mum. It must have been devastating.”

James tenses, his gaze shifting nervously to the store entrance, where he hopes Sirius, Remus, and you will hurry with their shopping and rescue him from this unwelcome conversation. The thought of discussing his ex, who left him and their son behind because she wasn't ready for motherhood, fills him with a mix of frustration and anger. The memory of her sudden departure still stings, and he isn’t eager to relive those painful moments, especially with someone he barely knows.

“Yeah, it’s been tough, but we’re doing just fine without her,” James replies, his tone steady but strained. He takes a deep breath, summoning the courage to gently suggest that Miriam give them some space. “Anyway, Miriam—”

“That’s so unfortunate that he doesn’t have a mum in his life,” Miriam continues, her lashes fluttering flirtatiously at him. James immediately grasps where she is going with this. It’s not the first time his role as a father has attracted unwanted advances, but her bold approach leaves him momentarily stunned. If she had asked him out directly, it might have been different—though he doubts it would have made much of a difference.

“Miriam! Still hitting on unavailable men?” Sirius’s voice rings out with a teasing edge. James turns to see Sirius and Remus emerging from the store. Remus is scanning the receipt but looks up, startled at Sirius’s voice. You must still be browsing in the store.

“Unavailable?” Miriam repeats, her eyebrows raising in surprise. James can’t help but question the same thing, the word echoing in his mind.

“Very much so,” Sirius says with a firm nod as he and Remus come to stand beside James. Remus shoots Miriam a polite hello, but his expression reflects his lingering dislike for her from their school days.

“I didn’t know you were with someone,” Miriam mumbles, and James thinks about clarifying that he didn’t know it either.

The bell above the shop door chimes, announcing someone’s departure. James’s reaction to your voice is immediate and revealing; his eyes brighten, and his posture straightens as he turns to you. It’s clear from his response that he is deeply enamored with you.

And it isn’t just James. His son mirrors his father’s excitement. The little boy’s eyes light up with the same warmth, and he reaches out eagerly toward you. Henry babbles what sounds remarkably like “mama,” his tiny arms outstretched in an unmistakable plea for you to hold him. James hopes you don’t catch what his son is trying to say.

Your sweet voice rings out, “Jamie, I know you said not to spoil him, but they had the most adorable knit sweater—” You trail off, blinking in surprise as you notice Miriam’s disapproving gaze, her brow furrowed in irritation. You come to a stop next to James, missing the way his son is staring you down.

“You bought him another sweater?” Remus asks, his tone a mix of surprise and amusement. You shoot him a halfhearted glare, silently reminding him that he shouldn’t be commenting on it.

“Hi, Miriam. How have you been?” You greet her with a warm smile, though a hint of unease tugs at you. Miriam’s gaze feels unusually intense, leaving you slightly unsettled. You recall that you both got on well in school, so you’re unsure what might have shifted between you.

“Good. It’s been ages since I’ve seen you all, Jamie and I were just talking about—” Miriam trails off, her gaze fixed on James as he smoothly takes the shopping bag from you, allowing you to take Henry. Had you been fully listening, you would’ve frowned at the use of your nickname for James.

The transition is so effortless that it’s clear it’s well-practiced. You settle Henry comfortably on your hip, deftly rummaging through your purse until you find a pacifier. You gently pop it into his mouth, and Henry’s head droops onto your shoulder as he begins to suck contentedly, letting out a sigh that suggests he’s found his perfect spot.

James’s gaze is lovesick as he watches you. His heart catches in his throat as he sees you effortlessly produce a pacifier for his son. He’s well aware that your purse likely holds other baby essentials, even if you’d deny it. As he observes you, his thoughts drift, overwhelmed by the profound realization that Henry has a mum in his life— you.

You’re so focused on settling Henry that you don’t even notice Miriam’s silence, and James, so absorbed in you, is barely aware of her presence. You smile up at him while gently rocking his son, and James thinks, This is it. I have everything I’ve ever wanted.

Miriam turns to Sirius with a lowered voice, “I thought they were just friends. They were in school.”

“They were never just friends. Y/n has always been James’s weakness. Now she’s his son’s too.”

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

Dad!James and Bsf!Reader Masterlist

[velvrei]

logan howlett drabble masterlist

note: all works here written by velvrei, do not take my work and post on third party apps or translate it either.

❦ = smut, ☼ = suggestive, ✿ = fluff

meeting logan hc’s ☼

logan howlett nsfw headcannons ❦ ☼

logan fucking you in his shirt ❦

riding logan’s face ❦

cocky! logan mocking you cause he fucks too good ❦

more mean and cocky logan ❦

logan punishing you for not listening ❦

giving head to sub!logan ❦

soft to rough fucking with logan ❦

logan taking your virginity ❦

enemies to lovers with logan ❦

logan being possessive at a bar ☼

logan eats you out cause you’re stressed ❦

mommy issues!logan sucking your tits ❦

bailing logan out of jail (please please please mv) ✿

logan consensually chokes you ❦

anything you do turns logan on ❦

early morning riding with logan ❦

69ing with logan ❦

logan makes you cry by degrading you and feels horrible ✿ ❦

car sex with logan ❦

logan falling for tony starks daughter ❦

make up sex with logan ❦

logan with a cat obsessed gf ✿

logan making you squirt for the first time ❦

logan’s reaction to lingerie ❦

logan masturbating to your scent ❦

mirror sex with logan ❦

logan secretly loving your sweet gestures ✿ ☼

logan comforting inexperienced gf ✿

you love sucking logan’s dick ❦

introducing wade and logan to chappell roan ✿

logan face fucks you after long day ❦

logan guiding you through your first blow job ❦

cockwarming with logan ❦

you kill guys by crushing them with your thighs and logan feels a certain way about it ☼

logan with adhd gf ✿

logan with mute gf ✿

sub!logan with strong gf ❦

showering with logan ❦

pain kink with logan ❦

jealous!teacher!logan fucking you after frat boys made flirty comments about you ❦

[alchomcrax]

oliver & rolf’s tag dump.

[entirelysein-e]

『 Yellow 』

☼ synopsis: Your lover gets too rough with you and you have to beg him to slow down - which he does

☼ characters: Geto, Gojo, Toji

☼ wc: 1.0k

☼ cw: gn!reader, afab!reader, overstimulation, spanking, fingering, mentions of bondage and anal fingering, slapping, clit slapping, face fucking, Toji calling reader "doll" and "slut"

☼ notes: just a liddol something while I work on the next fic as promised!! || Sign up for my taglist here

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Geto:

✧ Geto had you lying beneath him, your knees pressed up to your chest, strong hands making sure you stay in this position as he plowed into you

✧ Your poor cunt was beyond sore from the previous overstimulation he put you through and you weren't sure if you could take it anymore

✧ He angled his hips upwards and freed one of his hands from your thigh to wrap around your throat and that's when you broke

✧ “Y-yellow” you croaked out and he didn't hear you at first so you tried to claw at his hand which made him let go, the pace of his hips not once faltering and it started to become too much

✧ “I said yellow!” You screamed out and Geto immediately pulled out, knowing the traffic light system but you never had to use it

✧ The tears were brimming in your eyes and he gently laid your legs back down before cupping your cheek

✧ “Better? Do you want to stop or go on gently?” He asked caring, a complete switch of attitude

✧ You only shook your head and pulled him back on top of you “don't wanna stop… it was just too much” you whispered and he pushed himself back in, you two laying in missionary

✧ The thrusts of his hips were deep and calculated but held such gentleness behind them that build up another orgasm fast

✧ His hands locked with yours, his gaze watching your features for any hint of pain this time - being rough was fun but only if you felt so too

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Gojo:

✧ Gojo held you up against the wall, fucking into you like there's no tomorrow, your ass cheeks and thighs almost bruised from how hard he's holding onto them

✧ The occasional slaps that made you yelp brought him joy, mocking the little sounds

✧ But when he turned you around to fuck you in a full Nelson to flex with his his strength and make you watch yourself in the mirror he heard the word

✧ “Yellow… please” you whined and he slowly untangled you from the position without pulling out yet

✧ “Need me to pull out or just slower?” He asked with a grin, watching you as you looked at the image in the mirror, how you were impaled on Gojos cock made you wiggle in his hold

✧ “Nuh-uh. Talk to me, butterfly. Use your pretty mouth” he hummed encouraging, needing you to put an end up this or to tell him to go on

✧ “Slow please. Lay me down” you mumbled, almost embarrassed for having to slow this down since you were the one requesting him to be a little less caring this time

✧ Gojo nodded and pulled out before laying you on the bed onto your stomach, a pillow shoved under your hips “like this?” He asked, letting you decide

✧ You nodded, this empty feeling inside of you driving you insane - needing him, just less rough than before

✧ Goji spread your folds to get a look at your puffy clit before pushing himself back inside, gently rocking into your cunt

✧ Squelching noises filled the room as he kept hitting that spongy spot inside of you with utmost care and perfection it has you moaning his name like a dirty prayer

✧ When his arm wrapped around you to rub your clit with all the slick that's gathered there you made a mess out of the sheets, squirting around his cock that was buried deep inside of you - and he was far from done

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Toji:

✧ Toji had a field trip with you, tied to the bed on arms and legs, enjoying just how helpless you are as he knelt above your chest, the tip of his thick cock kissing your lips

✧ “Open wide” he hummed and slapped you across the cheek when you refused, knowing nothing is off limits tonight unless you say the safe word

✧ This position didn't satisfy him, turning around to face your cunt now as how dick was pushed carelessly into your mouth until it was nestled in your throat entirely

✧ Toji groaned as he started to thrust into the wetness of your mouth, fucking your face

✧ His hands were busy on your little pussy, rubbing your bundle of nerves and every time you made a sound he would slap it

✧ “Look at you, little slut. Liking when I hit you there, hm?” He teased, his hips stilling for a moment to fully enjoy the way you clench around nothing with each slap

✧ When he had his fill he finally pulled away to let you breathe properly again, untying your legs so he could position you on all four, your head cruelly pushed down to the mattress

✧ It only took him one hard thrust to bottom out, a low moan rumbling through his chest at how tight you feel around him before he started pounding into you harshly

✧ His thumb was gently massaging your puckered hole, ready to push it inside when he heard the cue to take it easy

✧ “Did I hear yellow?” He asked, pulling your head out of the pillows by your hair and you wailed, screaming it again

✧ “Did I break my little doll?” He teased but let you turn around, already knowing how to handle the situation since it happens every other time

✧ “Let me make you feel good, baby. No need to worry. Gonna take care of you” he whispered in your ear, now in missionary with you as he rocked his hips into yours gently

✧ It was fascinating how gentle he could be with you if needed, his hands roaming your body as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix in gentle thrusts, slowly getting you closer to your much needed orgasm

Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[moorejosie]

[fatedefyd]

because i have 0 self-control, i drew another goldenarcher piece after seeing @newdleboy's take on mk's sonic verse design

[geroya]

what's even funnier is when i drive w my mom, she is ALWAYS talking AT me & then has the audacity to judge my driving bc the car is HERS

[poulterwj]

[sonarspace]

RAIN, REGRETS, & REDEMPTION. KENTO NANAMI

SYNOPSIS: promises made in the rain often get washed away, leaving echoes of what might have been CONTENT: angst. nsfw. PAIRING: ex-husband! nanami x reader. WC: 2.7k

☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸

it's been over five months since you filed for divorce from nanami. they say it gets easier with time, but it feels like it just gets harder every day. you miss him so much, it’s like a part of you is just gone.

you still remember that day so clearly—pushing him out the door and yelling “get out!” before collapsing on the floor, tears streaming down your face as it hit you that your marriage was really over.

it’s hard not to feel bitter when you think about how his career seemed to take over your whole life. the rare moments of intimacy—only on birthdays and your anniversary—felt more like a formality than real connection. it’s like your entire relationship was reduced to those fleeting moments, leaving you feeling more alone than ever.

the days after were a blur. you tried to stay busy, but every corner of the apartment was haunted by him. the layout of the living room, your habit of leaving your shoes by the door, his favorite mug next to yours in the cabinet, his second pair of glasses on your bedside table—everything was a painful echo of his absence.

what hurt the most was that he didn’t even fight for you. he didn’t fight for your relationship. it ended so abruptly, like a chapter closing with no chance for a rewrite.

so you did what you could to move on. you packed up everything and decided to move out of the apartment, sending his belongings back through his lawyer since you no longer knew where he lived. yet, selfishly, you kept his sweater. it was the only piece of him you allowed yourself to hold onto.

you decide to spend one last night in the apartment you both once shared, before the divorce would be finalized tomorrow. after tomorrow, you'd be free from everything that connected you to him. the place was empty, with nothing left but your mattress on the floor in the bedroom and the refrigerator in the kitchen.

you pull on his sweater, feeling its familiar warmth, and then catch your reflection in the mirror. you can’t help but think how pathetic it all seems. trying to shake off the feeling, you pour yourself a glass of wine. just as you’re about to head out onto the balcony, the doorbell rings, cutting through the quiet of the empty apartment.

you frown, wondering who could be ringing the doorbell at this late hour. when you open the door, your wine glass nearly slips out of your hand. there he is, standing in front of you—the man who caused you so much pain. whom you still can’t help but long for. his messy blond hair is tousled, like he’s been running his hands through it anxiously. his clothes are crumpled, his shirt hanging out of his pants when it’s usually neatly tucked. he’s breathing heavily, as if he’s just ran up twenty flights of stairs to you.

the sight of him, unexpectedly at your door, floods you with a storm of unresolved feelings, making your heart ache with bittersweet emotion.

“elevator’s out of order, huh?” he says, his voice heavy as he catches his breath. you stare at him, struggling to find your words.

“what are you…” you're about to ask, but he cuts you off.

“can i come in?”

you stand there, your feet rooted to the ground. you’ve replayed this moment countless times during your lonely nights, imagining if he’d ever come back, if he’d ask for your forgiveness. now that he's here, the reality of it is almost too surreal.

you’re about to shut the door, the sight of him too much to handle. but he stops it with his foot. “please, baby,” he says softly, and it almost makes you melt. you quickly remind yourself to stay strong. “you don’t get to call me that,” you snap, sounding like a petulant kid even though the endearment tugs at you.

his eyes meet yours, filled with a mix of regret and desperation. “i know you don’t want to see me, but—”

before he can finish, you sigh and step aside. he walks through the door, and the emptiness of the place hits him hard. memories start rushing back—the way you'd run up to him and hug him when he came home from work, the new recipes you’d tried out together in the kitchen, those late nights on the couch where you’d read while he worked on his laptop. his eyes fall on the open bedroom door, spotting the mattress. the nights you spent together, a mess of tangled limbs.

his throat feels tight, and before he knows it, his eyes are filled with tears. you see the look on his face and without thinking, you set the glass down on the kitchen counter and pull him into a hug. he clings to you, holding you like you’re the only thing anchoring him. his knees start to wobble, and he pulls you down with him. you both sink to the wooden floor. his body trembles as he takes in shaky breaths, trying to hold back his sobs.

you press a kiss to his hair like you have countless times before when he sought comfort in your arms. “kento,” you whisper softly, the name feeling heavy on your tongue. “please,” he whispers back, his voice broken and desperate. you know what he's asking for, but it's too late. “you’re too late,” you say, struggling to keep your voice from wavering.

he pulls back from your shoulder. you both gaze into each other's eyes. the unspoken words hang heavy between the two of you. “i’m sorry,” he says in a broken whisper. the words you've been longing to hear for the past five months. the apology should be bringing you some sort of relief, right? but all you feel is guilt. overwhelming guilt which threatens to spill from your eyes. why didn’t you fight harder for both of you? why did you just pin the blame on him and give up after only one attempt?

as if sensing your turmoil, he cups your cheeks and leans his head against yours. “don't even think about blaming yourself,” he murmurs, his voice soft and reassuring. his hands are warm on your cheeks. his warmth seeps into you, pumping your heart. it's too much in the best way. god, you've missed him so much.

“kento,” your voice chokes. he kisses the tears streaming down your cheeks, his lips brushing against your skin with a featherlight touch.

“no more tears,” he says, giving you a sad smile. his thumb gently brushes away the last of your tears. he stands up and offers you his hand. you take your glass of wine as he grabs the bottle and leads you out to the balcony. you both stand under the night sky, covered with heavy clouds with the promise of rain.

you sip your wine silently while he takes a swig directly from the bottle. after a moment, you place your glass on the floor and, without a word, he hands you the bottle. your fingers brush against each other as you pass the bottle back and forth. you somehow find yourselves moving closer.

he turns his head to look at you as your head rests on his shoulder. you’re unsure who makes the first move and you couldn’t care less. your lips brush against each other, both of you hesitant, unsure if you should cross the line or not. you don’t know if it’s the emotions of the night or the alcohol in your system, but before you can think too much about it, you close the gap and press your lips against his.

the bottle slips from his hand and shatters on the floor as he brings his hand up to cup your cheek. his thumb moves under your jaw, tilting it higher to deepen the kiss. he groans into your mouth, and just then, the rain starts. fat, heavy drops fall over both of you as you lose yourself completely in the kiss.

the kiss starts slow and gentle but quickly turns needy and desperate as you both give in to each other. he walks you back into the apartment, blindly shutting the balcony door behind him with the rain muffled outside. he pulls away, breathing heavily, and his hand moves to the hem of your drenched sweater (his). “looks better on you than it did on me,” he smiles tenderly as he notices.

he waits for a moment, his eyes searching yours for permission to remove it. you nod and the sweater is off before you can blink. your pants follow next. you start unbuttoning his shirt as he kisses you again. both of you blindly make your way back to the bedroom. your hands find the waistband of his pants, and as the back of your feet meets the mattress on the floor, you yelp, falling backward and pulling him down with you. the sounds of your chuckles fill the empty apartment.

the room fills with tension as you both quiet down. kento’s finger gently tucks back a strand of hair behind your ear. "i missed hearing that," he murmurs sincerely. before you can respond, he captures your lips. his tongue presses against your lips and you part them, letting him in as the kiss deepens and becomes urgent.

his hands roam over your body with confidence, each caress of his fingers making you gasp against his lips. he cups your breasts, making you arch into him. he pulls back from your lips and trails teasing kisses down your neck and jaw.

he takes a moment to slip off your bra, leaving you just in your panties. seeing the blush spread across your cheeks, he grins. "you're so fucking beautiful," he breathes, his voice hoarse with need.

his hands continue their exploration, setting your skin ablaze. he parts your legs and positions himself between them, his fingers grazing over your thighs, savoring every inch. he takes in a shaky breath as he gazes down at you, reminding him of the first time you were together.

“ken, please,” you whimper, voice trembling with need. he chuckles at your desperation. “patience, my sweet love.” he spreads your legs wider, making you gasp as his tongue presses against your drenched panties. “haven’t even done anything yet, and you’re already so wet?” he asks with a cocky grin.

his eyes flutter closed as the taste of you seeps through the fabric, his nose pressed against you, sending shivers through your body. your hands instinctively find his hair, tugging him closer. his breath is hot, teasing, as his tongue traces the outline of your folds, every lick driving you closer to the edge. unintelligible sounds spill from your lips as your breaths grow heavier.

his fingers slip beneath your panties, grazing where you need him most. he teases you, taking his time, relearning your body, savoring every reaction. when he pushes two fingers inside, he growls low, “so warm, so eager.” your hips buck up, seeking more.

he withdraws his fingers and slides your panties off, his eyes never leaving you as he pumps himself slowly. he watches the way your lips part, how your eyes darken with desire. without breaking his gaze, he slides into you, and you both moan in unison. the stretch is overwhelming, your hands instinctively grip his shoulders as your body arches, shuddering under the intensity.

his lips trail kisses across your collarbones, his breath ragged against your neck. “tell me you missed me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with need and vulnerability.

“i missed you so much,” you breathe out. he groans softly at your confession. his lips crash into yours, a messy attempt to kiss as his movements grow more desperate, deeper.

for a moment, the past five months of pain, regret, and loneliness seem to melt away. it’s just the two of you, tangled up and breathless, your bodies slick with sweat and desire.

outside, the rain pounds against the windows, a loud backdrop to the soft, urgent sounds of your carnal needs. the heavy rain against the windows blends with the symphony of your mingled breaths and whispered names.

your moans grow louder as he picks up the pace, your walls clenching and holding onto him he moves in out of you. your senses blur together, the pressure inside you builds fast. that tight coil in your stomach winding impossibly close to snapping. your muscles tense as you edge towards your release.

your nails dig into his back, your body trembling as you feel yourself teetering on the edge. his grip on you tightens like he’s afraid to let go, afraid of losing this moment—or you—all over again.

“i’m sorry,” he chokes out, his voice cracking as he presses his forehead against yours. his thrusts slow but grow deeper, each one filled with a desperation that cuts through the haze of pleasure. “i’m so sorry.”

the words hit you like a wave, and your chest tightens. it’s hard to breathe, your heart torn between the intensity of your orgasm and the pain of remembering everything that brought you here.

but for just this moment, you let yourself drown in both. the pleasure and the ache intertwine, your moans mixed with soft sobs as you finally come undone in his arms.

your body trembles beneath him as you try to catch your breath, still reeling from the intensity of it all. he stays there for a moment, buried deep inside you, holding you like he never wants to let go. his fingers trace your cheek, catching a stray tear, and his lips press against your skin—soft, desperate.

“don’t leave me,” he whispers, voice breaking as he buries his face into your shoulder. his chest heaves, and he pulls back to meet your eyes, pleading.

you can barely breathe, the weight of it all crashing over you. he presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering, trembling, like he’s holding on for dear life.

“i should’ve fought for us,” he says, voice cracking under the strain. “i messed up, but it’s not too late. i’ll talk to the lawyers tomorrow—i’ll fix everything.”

his words hang heavy in the air as he kisses you again, slow and tender, like he’s sealing a vow. and despite the conflicting emotions inside you, you let yourself lean into it, into him, just for tonight.

when you wake the next morning, the light filtering in through the curtains, you feel his warmth still pressed against you. for a brief moment, you think it’s a dream—one of those bittersweet fantasies you’d had over the last few months.

but then you feel his arms tighten, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist. he presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck. “good morning,” his voice gruff.

“i’ll talk to the lawyers today,” he whispers, his voice low and soothing. “i’ll make it right.” you give him a sleepy smile and he chuckles fondly. you hear him moving around quietly—getting dressed, gathering his things. “i’ll be back soon,” he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “we’ll figure it out.”

the morning is gray, the skies still heavy from last night’s rain. you hear the sound of his car pulling away, hoping when you wake up next, this will all be over. but when you do, it’s not the sound of him coming back that wakes you—it’s the phone ringing.

the roads were slick, the rain turning everything into a slippery danger. they say he didn’t see the other car coming, didn’t have time to react. your heart sinks as you hear the fragments of the message: “accident,” “wet roads,” “collision.”

the phone drops from your trembling hand. the world around you blurs as you fall to the floor.

you rush to the hospital, your mind racing. when you finally get to the icu, you find him there, motionless but breathing. a rush of relief floods through you as you see the steady rise and fall of his chest.

you sit by his side, gripping his hand tightly. the steady beeping of the monitors fills the silence in the room. you don’t know when he’ll wake up, or if he’ll wake up at all. tears slip silently down your cheeks as you whisper, “i’m here, kento. i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.”

☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸

A/N: product of me listening to pink in the night on repeat for the past two days. likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

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