#and now that im out of it the memorys fading fast

[modpoppy]

think i got haunted by bill cipher in real life

[soulofapatrick]

Wingspan - Azriel x female reader

Summary: You decide Azriel's lap is where you'll sit which leads to something new

Warnings: Semi-smut; male orgasm

Words: 5K

Notes: I feel like im teasing you all with no real smut these last few ACOTAR stories hehe - you will get your smutty pt 2s I promise

Y/N's POV

As I step into the lounging area of the House of Wind, the warmth from the fire crackles softly in the background, but the room is full of quiet laughter and relaxed conversation. Every seat is taken.

Cassian is sprawled out on the couch nearest the hearth, his muscular frame looking far too large for the space, his arm slung lazily around Nesta. She’s sitting beside him, legs tucked beneath her, engrossed in a book but absently resting her hand on his thigh. Across from them, Feyre sits next to Rhysand, her head resting against his shoulder as they talk quietly, her soft laugh occasionally filling the room. Rhys lounges with that familiar ease, and the moment I step inside, his eyes meet mine. A brow quirks, and I know instantly that he’s about to summon another chair for me.

I shake my head, just the smallest movement, and his smirk widens knowingly.

Elain is seated next to Mor, both chatting lightly, and Amren is perched in an armchair with a drink in hand, glancing up from a book now and then, clearly uninterested in the chatter around her.

But my eyes find him. Azriel is sitting alone in a solitary armchair, slightly apart from the others, his long legs stretched out in front of him, one ankle crossed over the other. His shadows swirl faintly around his shoulders, and he holds a barely touched drink in his hand, eyes distant as if lost in thought.

Without a word, I make a beeline for him, my heart picking up speed as I approach. His hazel eyes lift when he senses me coming, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. His expression softens almost immediately, though, his gaze innocent, confused, as if he can’t quite believe I’m heading straight for him.

I don’t stop. I reach out, nudging his arm gently, and he instinctively shifts the glass from his lap, his breath catching in his throat as I slide smoothly onto it, settling into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

For a moment, he’s utterly still, his body tense beneath mine. The faintest hint of a blush creeps across his cheeks, and I can feel the way his breath hitches slightly, like he’s trying to keep his composure. His free hand hovers awkwardly for a second, unsure where to rest, before it finally settles on my waist with a cautious, almost reverent touch.

Azriel says nothing, but his lips part as if to speak. I glance up at him, catching the quiet storm of emotions swirling in those beautiful hazel eyes—surprise, uncertainty, but beneath it all, a soft warmth that he tries to hide behind his usual stoicism.

His shadows dance lightly around us, curling closer as if they, too, are reacting to the shift in our proximity. The room around us seems to fade, the others’ conversations becoming distant as we sit there, close, his breath steadying but his chest still rising a little too fast. He’s not used to this kind of attention—not from me.

I reach for the glass in his hand, gently prying it from his grasp. His fingers linger on the cool surface for a moment before he releases it, watching me closely. Without breaking eye contact, I raise the drink to my lips, taking a slow sip. The liquid is smooth, warming as it slides down my throat, but what really heats me is the way Azriel’s eyes darken, honing in on the way my tongue darts across my bottom lip to catch the last drop.

His gaze is searing, intense, as if he's committing the moment to memory, and for a heartbeat, it’s just the two of us in the room. Then, as if by some unseen force—probably Rhys or Amren—the glass vanishes from my hand. I barely have time to process its disappearance before Azriel moves.

It’s instinctual, primal—the way his scarred hands slide up my waist, firm and possessive, pulling me closer. Before I can react, his face buries in the crook of my neck, and I feel the warmth of his breath as he inhales deeply. He’s holding me like he needs to, like being close to me is the only thing keeping him grounded. I can feel the faint tremor in his arms, the way he tries to keep his composure even though he’s giving in to some deeper urge.

I relax against him, sinking into his embrace, my body shifting slightly in his lap as I try to get more comfortable. The movement causes his grip to tighten, and a low, guttural sound escapes him—a growl, quiet but unmistakable, rumbling from deep within his chest. The sound sends a shiver racing down my spine.

That’s when I feel it—him. Stirring beneath me, hardening as I shift, and it’s my turn for my breath to catch in my throat. The weight of him beneath me is undeniable now, and suddenly, every inch of space between us feels electric. I can’t breathe, can’t move, trapped in the tension that pulses between us, my heart hammering against my chest.

Azriel's breath hitches as I shift slightly in his lap again, the movement sending a jolt of awareness through both of us. His grip on my waist tightens, almost as if he’s afraid I might slip away. His face remains buried in the crook of my neck, and I can feel the warm brush of his lips against my skin, his breath coming in uneven, shallow pulls. His scent—night-chilled wind and cedar—wraps around me, intoxicating and overwhelming, and I can't help but lean into him, the tension between us crackling in the air.

For a moment, all I can hear is the sound of his breathing and the steady thrum of my own heartbeat, loud in my ears. His hands, calloused and scarred from years of battle, hold me like I’m something fragile, but there’s a rawness to the way his fingers press into my skin, as though he’s fighting the urge to pull me even closer.

I shift again, just slightly, and this time, a soft moan escapes his lips, barely audible but filled with a need that sends heat pooling low in my belly. My own breath catches in my throat, a shiver coursing through me as I feel the hard length of him press more insistently against me. My heart races, and I know that he feels it too—the pounding rhythm of it against his chest, the rising heat between us.

Azriel finally lifts his head, and when his eyes meet mine, they’re darker than I’ve ever seen them, his usual calm shattered by the hunger simmering just beneath the surface. His gaze flickers to my lips for a brief second, and I see the way his jaw clenches, like he’s holding back from doing something he desperately wants to do.

I feel his grip loosen slightly, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of my shirt in small, absent circles, but his eyes never leave mine. The tension between us hums in the air, almost unbearable now, as if the world around us has disappeared, leaving only this moment. My body feels like it’s on fire, every nerve on high alert from his touch, his closeness.

I open my mouth, trying to find something to say, but before I can, his scarred hand moves, sliding from my waist to the back of my neck. His fingers tangle in my hair, gentle but possessive, as he tilts my head just slightly, his face so close to mine that I can feel the heat of his breath ghosting over my lips.

"Are you... okay?" His voice is low, hoarse, like he’s barely able to get the words out, his control hanging by a thread. There’s a vulnerability in his question, as if he’s afraid of what my answer might be.

I nod, swallowing hard, my body trembling against him. "Yes," I whisper, my voice breathy and uneven, and his grip on my neck tightens, just slightly.

The corners of his lips twitch, but it’s not quite a smile. More like he’s relieved, as if that simple word unlocked something within him. His gaze drops to my lips again, and this time, there’s no mistaking the hunger in his eyes.

Before I can even process it, his mouth is on mine—slow at first, tentative, like he’s still unsure if he’s allowed to have this. But then I kiss him back, and something inside him snaps. His hand tightens in my hair, pulling me closer, and his other arm wraps fully around my waist, holding me against him as his lips move hungrily against mine.

His kiss is fierce, consuming, like he’s been starving for this moment and can’t get enough. I melt into him, my hands finding the front of his shirt, clutching at the fabric as if it’s the only thing tethering me to reality. Every brush of his lips, every stroke of his tongue sends sparks of heat racing through me, and I can’t think—can’t focus on anything except the feel of him, the way he tastes, the way his body responds to every movement I make.

When we finally break apart, both of us are breathless, our foreheads resting together. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his eyes still dark with need, but there’s a softness there now, too, something tender that makes my heart ache.

His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks. "I've wanted this... for so long." His confession hangs in the air between us, raw and unguarded, and I can see the vulnerability in his eyes, the fear that maybe I don’t feel the same.

But I do. Gods, I do.

I press my lips to his again, softer this time, letting him know without words that I want this too—that I want him. His body relaxes beneath me, the tension melting from his shoulders as he kisses me back, slower now, more controlled, savouring the moment as if we have all the time in the world.

And in this moment, in Azriel’s arms, it feels like we do.

Our breaths mingle, warm and shallow, as we slowly pull away from the kiss. The world seems to stand still around us, every sound muffled by the rush of blood in my ears, by the feel of his hands still gripping me, like I’m the only thing keeping him anchored. I finally glance around the room, blinking as if waking from a dream, and that’s when I realise we’re alone.

The others—Cassian, Nesta, Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Amren, and Elain—they’re gone. At some point, they must have quietly slipped away, leaving us here in the lounging area, tangled together on the chair like some kind of forgotten secret. My face flushes with sudden awareness, the intimacy of the moment crashing over me now that we’re truly, utterly alone.

Azriel must sense it—the sudden flush creeping up my neck, the way my body stiffens just slightly. His eyes narrow, a flicker of concern passing through them, but before I can even speak, the world around me shifts.

It happens so fast—one moment I’m sitting on his lap, surrounded by the warmth of the fire, and the next I’m engulfed in darkness. Not just darkness, though—his shadows. They wrap around me, soft, velvety, and thick, their weight comforting and familiar as they pull me under. I barely have time to register the sensation of falling before I land, gently, on something soft beneath me.

I blink up, my breath catching as I realise I’m on my back, lying on the plush surface of a bed. The shadows swirl around me before retreating, leaving nothing but the low glow of candlelight to illuminate the room. My heart pounds in my chest as I take in my surroundings—the large bed beneath me, the soft sheets crumpled around my legs, the faint scent of night-blooming flowers hanging in the air. And then, I see him.

Azriel is hovering above me, his body blocking out most of the dim light, his wings half unfurled like a dark halo around him. His hands are braced on either side of my head, caging me in, and his face is only inches from mine. The shadows still dance around his shoulders, swirling lazily, but his gaze… his gaze is locked on me, and it’s intense, burning with something that makes my breath catch all over again.

He’s staring at me like I’m something precious, something he can’t quite believe he’s allowed to have. His lips part as if to speak, but he hesitates, his eyes flicking over my face as if he’s memorising every detail. His presence is overwhelming—warm and solid and intoxicating, and I can’t help the way my body reacts to him, my skin buzzing with the nearness of him.

Azriel’s wings flutter slightly as he hovers above me, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts, eyes locked onto mine with a fire that seems barely contained. The room around us is dim, the only light spilling in from the moon outside the windows, casting long, gentle shadows that seem to dance across his features. His wings frame him, dark and powerful, the membranous folds trembling with barely concealed tension.

I feel it too, the overwhelming tension that hangs between us—thick, electric, like a storm about to break. My pulse races, the heat between us coiling tight in my chest, and I can’t help but take in the sight of him. His muscles are taut beneath his shirt, his shoulders broad and wings extended just enough that I can see them twitching, the sensitivity of that velvety skin so evident even from where I lay beneath him.

His eyes are locked on me, dark and molten, and the connection between us, the bond we share, hums with the weight of his desire, of his need. I feel his emotions as if they’re my own—raw, unfiltered hunger. It’s like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing there’s no way back, and part of me is already tumbling over it.

The bond pulses with an intoxicating mixture of want and restraint. I sense his struggle to hold back, to keep himself in check, even though the thread of control is so thin it feels like it could snap at any moment. His shadows swirl restlessly around us, as if they, too, are caught up in this moment, drawn to the fire igniting between us.

“Azriel…” I whisper, my voice barely audible in the quiet of the room, but the sound seems to break whatever thread of control he was holding onto.

His gaze softens, and without a word, his head dips, his lips brushing against my throat, feather-light but sending sparks racing through my veins. His breath is warm against my skin as he inhales deeply, as if he’s savouring the moment, the feel of me beneath him.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice is a low, gravelly whisper against my neck, filled with equal parts wonder and restraint. His hands, those scarred, powerful hands, slip down to my waist again, pulling me closer to him as he presses his body flush against mine, his weight grounding me.

I shiver beneath him, the flush on my face deepening as I feel him everywhere—his solid chest pressed against mine, his hips brushing against my legs, his scent surrounding me, wrapping me in warmth and desire. My pulse races, and I know he can feel it, can hear it with those sharp senses of his.

I open my mouth to respond, but the words die in my throat as he lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine again, dark and full of that smouldering intensity that makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world. His thumb brushes against my hip, a simple touch, but it sends a wave of heat coursing through me.

Azriel's lips curl into the faintest of smiles, and then, as if unable to hold back any longer, he leans down, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that’s slower this time, more deliberate. It’s not rushed or desperate like before, but deep, exploring, savouring. His mouth moves against mine, teasing, tasting, and I can’t help but arch into him, the heat between us growing more intense with every passing second.

The soft sheets crumple beneath me as I reach up, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as I kiss him back with everything I have. He responds with a low, guttural sound in the back of his throat, the sound vibrating against my lips, and it sends another shiver down my spine.

His body shifts above me, his weight pressing me deeper into the mattress, and I feel the hardness of him, unmistakable now, as he presses against me. My breath hitches, and I can’t stop the way my hips move, instinctively arching up toward him, seeking more of that delicious contact.

Azriel breaks the kiss with a sharp intake of breath, his eyes hooded and dark as he pulls back just enough to look at me. His expression is raw, full of want and need, but there’s something else there, too—something vulnerable, as if he’s asking for permission.

"Tell me to stop if you want me to," he murmurs, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper, but I can hear the restraint, the effort it takes for him to hold back.

I meet his gaze, my heart pounding, and slowly, deliberately, I shake my head. “Don’t stop.”

That’s all it takes.

The moment the words leave my lips, Azriel’s entire demeanour shifts. The restraint he’s been holding onto starts to unravel, his gaze darkening to a molten amber that sends a shiver through me. His hands tighten on my waist as though he’s been waiting for this—waiting for permission to lose control.

And then, his mouth crashes back onto mine, but this time the kiss is deeper, hungrier, as if he’s been starved for this. His tongue teases mine, coaxing and tasting, and my body responds with an intensity that surprises even me. I can’t help but arch into him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as I pull him closer, needing more of him, more of his touch.

Azriel groans softly, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against me. His hand slides down to my thigh, his strong fingers digging into the soft skin as he hitches my leg over his hip. The movement presses our bodies together in a way that has me gasping, feeling every inch of him against me.

And gods, he feels good. So good it’s almost overwhelming.

He drags his lips from mine, trailing hot kisses down my jaw and to my neck. Each one is deliberate, like he’s savouring the taste of me, and I tilt my head, giving him more access. He doesn’t hesitate. His teeth graze the sensitive skin of my throat, and I gasp, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure racing through my veins. His wings shift slightly behind him, a subtle twitch as if even they are responding to the growing tension.

I slide my hands down his back, feeling the hard muscles beneath the fabric, and then lower, fingers brushing the edge of his wings. His reaction is immediate. A low, guttural sound rumbles from his chest, and his wings flare, just slightly, the movement causing him to press more firmly against me.

I do it again, trailing my fingers along the sensitive membrane, and Azriel gasps this time, his breath hitching. His wings are trembling under my touch, the connection between us growing more electric.

"Careful," he murmurs, his voice hoarse, strained. "They’re... sensitive."

I smirk, teasing him again with the softest brush of my fingertips along the arch of his wing, watching as his reaction mirrors the way he would if I touched him elsewhere—his body tensing, his grip tightening on my waist, his breath catching in his throat.

“Sensitive?” I murmur back, voice low, playful. “Good to know.”

Before I can do it again, Azriel’s patience seems to snap. In one swift motion, he pulls back, grabbing the hem of my shirt and yanking it over my head, discarding it without a second thought. His eyes rake over me, dark and full of hunger, and he lets out another growl, the sound making my pulse race.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, barely loud enough to hear. But I do, and it sends a flush of heat through me. 

Without hesitation, his hands return to my body, but this time, he doesn’t stop. His mouth follows the path of his fingers, trailing hot kisses down my neck, across my collarbone, and lower still. His lips and hands explore every inch of me as if memorising me, worshiping me.

And all the while, his wings—those magnificent, powerful wings—shudder in time with his touch, as if they are just as desperate for contact, just as in need of attention.

My breath hitches as I lift a hand, letting my fingers gently trail over the scars that line his forearms, feeling the tension thrumming beneath his skin. His breath falters, and I can sense him tip just a little closer to losing himself, feel the wild, unconfined need rippling through the bond.

Without breaking eye contact, I let my hand drift higher, toward his wings.

His reaction is immediate. The moment my fingertips graze the soft, sensitive skin of his wing, a shudder runs through him. His wings flare slightly, trembling as though he’s fighting not to let them fully expand. I can feel his breath catch, the bond between us flaring with the intensity of his pleasure, the sensation so strong it nearly knocks the breath from my lungs.

I don’t stop, letting my fingers trail along the edge of his wing, marvelling at how the slightest touch sends shockwaves through his body. His wings twitch, and his control slips just a little further. His whole body is trembling now, the tension in him barely held together, and the bond surges with the primal, visceral pleasure he’s feeling.

"You’re playing with fire," he growls, his voice low and dangerous, but there’s a glint of amusement, a challenge hidden behind the heat.

Before I can respond, he’s kissing me again, harder this time, more possessive. His hands slide lower, fingers digging into my hips as he presses his body more firmly against mine, and I can feel every inch of him, hard and ready, against me.

The intensity between us builds, a slow, burning heat that’s all-consuming, and I can’t help the soft moan that escapes me, my body arching into his touch. A soft groan escapes him, low and guttural, as his hands grip my waist, holding me as if I’m the only thing anchoring him to reality. But when I press a little harder, tracing the ridges of his wing, something in him snaps.

He buries his face in the crook of my neck with a desperate, almost feral groan, his breath hot and ragged against my skin. I feel the sharp bite of his teeth grazing my neck, almost too hard, but the pain mingles with pleasure so intense it sends a shiver down my spine. His hands tighten around me, pulling me impossibly closer as his wings tremble violently beneath my touch.

Before I realise it, Azriel’s entire body convulses with the force of it, a full-body shudder that ripples through him as he comes undone, his breath heavy and laboured, his wings quivering beneath my hands as the overwhelming pleasure tips him over the edge. His face remains buried in my neck, his lips pressed hard against my skin, and I can feel the pulse of his heartbeat racing, hear the low, guttural groan that escapes him as his body tenses and then releases in wave after wave of pleasure. His hips jerk into mine and I can feel the way embarrassment tinges the thread of our bond to I just kiss the side of his forehead as he rides out his orgasm. 

The bond between us flares white-hot, filled with the intensity of his release, and I can’t help but gasp, feeling every shudder, every tremor as if it’s my own. His wings continue to tremble beneath my touch, and I keep my fingers there, gently stroking the sensitive skin, letting him ride out the final waves of pleasure until his body slowly begins to relax.

Azriel’s breath is still hot against my neck, his body pressed so intimately against mine that I can feel every lingering tremor that still rocks through him. For a moment, neither of us moves, suspended in the quiet aftermath, with only the sound of his heavy breathing and the rapid beat of our hearts filling the room. But then, I feel it—the unmistakable tension of his body growing rigid again, the slow but deliberate shift of his hips against mine as the evidence of his renewed desire presses hard against my thigh.

Slowly, Azriel raises his head from where he’d buried it in my neck, his breathless groans now replaced with quiet, almost desperate pants. His hazel eyes lock onto mine, and they’re no longer merely molten—they’re molten chocolate, deep and swirling with so much raw need that it nearly knocks the breath from my lungs. His gaze is intense, but beneath the fire burning there, I see something else—something that makes my heart stutter in my chest.

He’s pleading.

“I need you,” he whispers, voice rough and low, his hands shaking as they grip my waist just a little tighter. His forehead rests against mine, eyes heavy-lidded but full of a barely contained hunger. His lips part as if he’s about to speak again, but it’s as though the words are too difficult to form. Instead, they tumble out, strained and needy, “Please…”

There’s no mistaking the fervent desire coursing through him. His body, his wings, even the bond between us pulses with it. He’s already hard, ready, and I can feel it—the urgency in every inch of him as his hips press forward, seeking any relief. But despite the wild hunger coursing through him, despite how his entire body shakes with need, he still waits. He still pauses. His fingers twitch slightly at my sides as if every fibre of his being is fighting for control, waiting for permission.

The gentleman in him, even in this frenzy, is waiting for me to say yes.

One word, a singular thought, chants in my head over and over again, echoing through the bond, through every breath I take as I look up at him. It’s a need that matches his, an all-consuming fire that burns hotter with every second that ticks by.

Mate.

I reach for his shirt without thinking, my hands trembling with the same need that’s consuming him. My fingers curl into the fabric, and I don’t even hesitate. I rip it in two with a force I didn’t know I had, the sound of tearing fabric filling the room as the shirt falls away from his body in tatters.

Azriel lets out a low, rough groan as the shirt is discarded, his wings flaring slightly, and his eyes darken even further—if that’s possible. His skin is flushed, the muscles of his chest and arms rippling under the soft moonlight, and I can’t help but run my hands across the broad expanse of his chest, feeling the way his breath stutters beneath my touch.

But we’re not done.

Azriel’s hands move down to his trousers, and with one smooth motion, he’s shucking them off, kicking them aside with an urgency that leaves my heart racing even faster. The sight of him, naked and unashamed, standing over me with every inch of him ready and willing, sends a fresh wave of desire crashing through me.

My own body burns, flushed with heat as I feel the bond between us pulsing with an overwhelming surge of need. He moves with precision, fingers deft but trembling as he does the same to me, discarding every layer between us until there’s nothing left, until I’m as bare to him as he is to me.

His eyes never leave mine, and there’s something almost reverent in the way he looks at me now, like he’s seeing me for the first time, or maybe like I’m the only thing that exists in this moment. His hands are gentle as they skim over my skin, but there’s a trembling edge to his touch, a tension that speaks of the frenzied desire threatening to overtake him.

And through the bond, I feel it too—the storm brewing inside both of us, the need to come together, to consummate what’s been simmering between us for so long.

Azriel’s wings twitch, his breathing erratic as he hovers above me, every muscle in his body taut with restraint. He lowers himself, his body pressing against mine, skin to skin, and I feel the weight of him, the heat of him. His breath ghosts over my lips, and his voice, husky and raw, whispers again, “Tell me… tell me what you want.”

I feel his body trembling, barely held together by the thread of control that’s slipping fast. His hands are on either side of me, but it’s his wings that twitch, sensitive and exposed, sending a shudder through him every time they brush against the sheets. His eyes plead with me, and I know that this moment is the tipping point. All I have to do is speak the word, give him the permission he’s so desperately seeking.

And the bond between us pulses, thundering in my chest, as that singular word echoes louder and louder in my mind.

Now.

ACOTAR Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

[kryptznnn]

Hiya!

I hope you're doing well

I had sorta of a specific request fem! reader x Bakugo first time (nsfw)? Reader and Bakugo known each other since middle school and hated each other's guts but then in the first year of ua thing start to change... Like a enemies to rivals to lovers thingy

And they confess to each other a day before the final war

Now it's several months after that and when Bakugo takes reader for hiking on the weekend but then end up having their first time in the hot springs?

Sorry if it's too much! Thankss!!❤️✨

♛/♡- Take It Easy

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➸ INTERESTS; - aged up! katsuki bakugo x f!quirk-using reader

➸ BACKGROUND; - (requested submission) Before the final war, Katsuki had made you promise to him your safety and future with one another, and you did. It wasn’t expected for either of you however for you to end up in a coma after the battle. After waking up you hadn’t expected everything to take a turn for the better so quickly.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc.5.8k, mentions of memory loss, comatose mentions, reader in a hospital patient, fast recovery, angst, fluff, kissing, vacation mentions, smut, p in v, orgasm mention (both f and m), etc.

➸a.i; - im so sorry this is so late oh my god, ive been going through lots of loads but im bulldozing through other works!! bare w me!

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“I love you”

The words echoed in your mind as you sat in your hospital bed, accompanied by concerned family. For the first time ever possibly, you saw your father cry, he never did. The entire situation just an hour ago was intense and very emotional, you hadn’t even known, but apparently you were in a coma.

And not for a short period of time, because when you had asked if it was for a week or a month your mother only scoffed before crying again. Your father was the one to break the news to you saying it had been nearly over half a year. You felt your heart race and breathing begin to quicken when you heard his words, quickly lunging for your phone that had been handed to you and checking the year.

You began to cry, harder than before now when you realized what had happened. After the battle you were fatally injured, but all of your wounds were long healed now, even the scars were faded, but over half a year of your life had been gone. Your family, your friends, birthdays, holidays, memories, all of it had gone to waste.

After your settlement and small discussion with your family you couldn’t help but think about your friends, or more importantly Katsuki. His confession and promise still ringing in your head as before as you sat off and stared into space.

It’s been over half a year, maybe things have changed even more than you thought. He could’ve moved on or even forgot about all of you and everything that had happened. Either that or he was too embarrassed to even see you. A frown quickly appeared on your face as you gripped your covers softly.

Your family immediately took sign of your reactions but before anything else could be said or done, a nurse had soon walked in saying everything had been cleared and you were free to go. As you prepped yourself and changed your clothing you had felt your phone buzz in your pocket, but you hadn’t paid it any mind and continued on with your night.

You helped your family pack the car as majority of your stuff was with you in the room until you had woken up. In all honesty after hearing half a year has passed you were surprised you were still alive, let alone that no one had given up on you during your time period of being here.

As you were on the road with your parents you asked them about it, they had responded saying that over the months you had progressed. Slight movements or even weak speech, and they knew that they still had a shot with you. It was more of you being lost within your own mind during the period, and the possibility of your quirk keeping you in a comatose like state out of fear.

That made sense for a moment, at least satisfactory towards you. As you pulled your phone from within your pocket you had also been given back your old headphones, smiling as you connected them to your phone before playing music. As you went through your phone with messages or social media you were surprised to see hundreds of messages and notifications all in your favor, entirely overwhelming you.

You made it your mission for this week before going to bed every night to speak to each and every single one of them. Speaking of what had happened and that you were back to your full potential and thanking them for their prayers and support over the months. Some of them cried and wanted to immediately come and visit you, but you informed them already that you’d have to clear that with your parents first as they didn’t want you to be too overwhelmed.

After some time had passed you looked over the contact on your phone, hesitating to call you. You had hundreds of missed calls from him, and you wondered why if he knew where you were. Katsuki knew you were in the hospital and your parents never seized to speak of how he would leave his classes just to spend time with you here.

Apparently the first time you seemed responsive in the hospital he was there, and they had seen him smile for the first time. He would read to you, play music for you, and even just speak about his day. Everything hit you as hot flashes or blurs, and you weren’t exactly able to pinpoint the voice to the face from those long nights.

It was slightly surprising to say the least, no one had taken him as the romantic or caring type. Well, you knew he was, that’s what he had told you when he confessed to you before the war, as you did to him. Maybe it was his own way of coping with what had happened, the promise you shared with one another played back in your head.

"I’ll be waiting for you after all of this, I promise I’ll be safe, don’t cry.” He spoke to you, wiping your face slightly before smiling and leaving you behind with the other girls. Now here you sat in your room after half a year from then, different bedsheets and stuffy air, pressing ‘call’ on his contact list.

You listened to your phone ring for a while before checking the time at the top left corner, immediately hanging up once you realized how late it had been. Since the two of you were young, he never slept late, always an early bird. He hated how much you’d lecture and bully him about it calling him a grandpa, and he was always quick to insult you in return.

It was funny honestly thinking back to it all, the two of you seemed to despise one another in middle school, quick to throw insults and even get into physical fights where you’d have to be separated. Over time as you two matured and entered high school it wasn’t missed how the atmosphere seemed the change, your friend groups merging as you two had genuine priorities instead of just messing around with one another.

As much as you tried to avoid him it seemed nearly impossible, the universe going against your wishes and placing the two of you in situations almost constantly. Eventually the two of you had gotten closer and kept the label as friends, and surprisingly Katsuki was the first to come to you, mature enough to apologize for the past and all that’s happened between you two.

You too had apologized for your actions, knowing you were a handful and far from perfect when you were caught on a bad day. It seemed almost so sudden afterwards you couldn’t help but feel an attraction towards him, or possibly the attraction you had prior becoming stronger and transforming into something neither of you had expected.

At first when the others joked and placed the two of you together as a couple for pranks it bothered you, you would deny immediately and move on towards different things as Katsuki only got angry. Sooner than later as the jokes became more and more the two of you had just stopped arguing and defending it, as you thought he stopped because he was tired of it.

For someone who could argue for hours he sure seemed quiet towards the allegations of any romance or crushing happening between the two of you. You would only look away feeling your face warm slightly as you listened to your friends' troubling words, laughing afterwards to look over at Katsuki, who wore a small smile on his lips, only for you.

You tapped your knee before deciding to send him a text instead, hopefully able to read it when he woke up. As you began to type your mind wandered over what might’ve happened over the past year. If anyone had moved or gotten together, maybe by some miracle graduated early and continued with their training to become heroes.

[You: Hey, I know you’re asleep, when you wake up call me? I’m back home now and you’re the only person I haven’t had the chance to talk to]

You reread the message before hitting send, ensuring that was probably the most formatted message you could send. It was also similar to the same things you had said to others on the phone or in text messages to those that couldn’t stay on the phone.

You quickly got ready for bed afterwards as you charged your phone and said your goodnight to everyone before heading off. Surprisingly you fell asleep rather quickly than before, now dozing.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

You awoke to your mother knocking on your door and waking you up. You sat up groggily as you heard her words, slightly slurred in your ears but she ended up repeating herself as you took your covers off.

“You have a visitor, they’re waiting for you downstairs, and also pack a bag, you’ll be on a trip for a while.” She said before waving you off and closing the door to give you privacy.

You cursed mentally thinking of how random the scenario sounded. You had just been discharged a little over 24 hours ago and now you’re going on a trip? It all seemed so sudden to you but to your mother it seemed as if she had already known and everything was planned.

You only shrugged it off and went to the bathroom you had familiarized yourself with before preparing yourself. You soon got ready and washed up before making your way back to your room and began packing. You packed your old clothing, makeup, anything a girl could for any trip imaginable into a suitcase and carry-on bag. Grabbing your other essentials such as your chargers and wallet leaving them in the outside pockets before making your way into the living room.

As you were lost in thought you checked your messages, eager to see who had answered you, or more specifically if Katsuki had. To your dismay he hadn’t, only leaving your message on seen early this morning around 7. You checked the time before announcing your presence in the kitchen, 11:27am.

“Good morning, I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to pack so I kind of packed everything? I got a bathing suit too just in case.” You mentioned awkwardly looking at your suitcase that had dragged behind you before looking into the kitchen to see your mother. She only nodded and pointed towards the dining room, making you leave your bag behind as you peered behind the wall to see your father sitting down chatting with someone.

“Katsuki…” you breathed in disbelief when you saw the familiar haircut of the boy. He turned his head quickly, cutting off your father before immediately pushing back his chair and pulling you into a hug you tightly. To which you hugged him back and practically sobbed into his shoulder, as you quickly pulled back and wiped your face you cupped his face with your hands, examining him.

He had so many new scars you had never seen before, or any that you would remember for the most part. It was so good seeing him, it felt as if you two had spent a lifetime apart. Being around one another since middle school hadn’t helped the fact you were gone for so long either. He wore a sad smile on his face as he looked at you, his hair was different, the same color but he must’ve had an undercut from where you were standing.

Whatever it was it suited him, he’s changed so much and yet so little in just barely a year. You knew it wasn’t the same for you though, if anything from the time you spent in the hospital you had definitely shed a few pounds and your hair had grown longer, not being able to get as much nutrients as you had when woken.

“You haven’t changed, at all.” He spoke, keeping his hands at your sides as he examined your figure and face, you only shook your head and smiled before pointing to the large scar on his cheek.

“I could heal this for you, you know? Don��t have to keep it forever, it changes your face so much.” You spoke as you rubbed it slightly, he shook his head and ushered you to take a seat beside him, your breakfast already being there. You obliged and sat down beside him taking a bit of the food in front of you before he spoke.

“Nah, I like it this way. Plus, everyone else thinks it makes me look badass.” He spoke, nodding to himself out of approval, you only laughed at him, covering your mouth as you ate. Without you even realizing your parents had both left the area, possibly going to the living room or their bedroom who knows.

You finished your food quickly as you listened to Katsuki speak of everything that had happened with him over the past year. He made sure to fill in every detail and not leave out anything, seeing your confused, upset, excited, or disgusted expressions at his words, smirking at each of them.

As you cleaned yourself up and listened to his plans, he had spoken to your parents prior. For when you were discharged, he wanted to take you out properly to celebrate with you, as he had planned too after the battle, but was unable too because of your condition. The dots clicked in your head as to why your mother had asked you to just now pack everything you could as you had a surprise awaiting you.

Till now it was still a surprise, as Katsuki refused to reveal the destination of where you two were headed after you said your goodbyes to your family. You two shared excessive conversation the entire trip, only taking a little under an hour to arrive as he took the highway.

You had been in his car before, only once a twice before hand after his small confession between the two of you. He had taken you out several times, the two of you enjoying the time together, however now felt different. You knew how much had changed, but you just didn't expect you'd been out for so long.

You appreciated how much he tried to take your mind off of it when you confessed how you really felt, feeling as if you lost a large piece of yourself. He never failed to make you laugh and feel as if nothing had changed between the two of you, and honestly it hasn't.

After his confession just days before he had gotten matching necklaces for the two of you. You loved to ridicule him on it, never taking him for the sappy type or extreme lover type of person, but you could see how honestly. Deep down under that tough layer of attitude and hardships was just a caring man, and you appreciated everything he had done. He wasn't afraid to hide it either, he confessed it as he held it between his fingers showing it to you as he drove.

The only time it wasn't out for all to see was when he was out on his minor hero duties, tucking it within his uniform as a safety precaution. By some miracle during the battle, you had kept yours, expecting it to be lost in battle. It stayed on until now, and you fidgeted around with your own as he showed you with a smile before looking out the window to the side, watching the sunset as several colors mixed into the sky.

He opened the window for you, but not entirely. You closed your eyes and rested partial of your head and arm against the window as you felt the wind blow into your hair. It felt peaceful, it was peaceful, you were having so much fun and couldn’t wait for what was in store later on in the day once you arrived at your destination.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"You brought me to a springs resort?" You asked, stepping out of the car raising a brow as Katsuki stood at your door, closing it behind you. He only nodded before going over to the trunk of his car and opening it.

"Yeah, but we'll be doing plenty of stuff this week, wanna get you back in your vibe n' have some fun." He spoke, now getting both your suitcase and bag along with his own, holding them in each hand. You were quick to take your luggage from him as he complained about it, before locking his car and speed walking ahead of you.

You only laughed a small while and followed right behind him, listening closely to his small conversation with the receptionist. You watched him pull out a card that you hadn't recognized before thanking the receptionist and quickly locking arms with you before walking off.

You raised a brow at him as the two of you made it over to the room number you were sure to memorize from the receptionist's words, '163'. You still couldn’t wrap your head around everything that’s happened to you in just the past two weeks from waking up from the hospital.

It was a lot to deal with, and you were surprised with just how well you were handling it. You’d heard of others and even seen movies of how people were after waking from a coma, losing memories, constantly fatigued, practically shifting into a different person, and yet here you were, stronger than ever. Maybe it was your quirk helping you with the most of it, but you felt fine, better than fine, you felt perfect.

Although times have changed and you’ve missed out on a lot of things, to Katsuki you were always there. Even if he was tired throughout his worst days of training or duty, he’d still stop by the hospital just to talk his feelings out.

You admired that about your relationship, the two of you weren’t all loud and public, because that didn’t matter. What mattered was how you too felt about one another and didn’t let anyone come between you two. Katsuki wasn’t a vocal person; he wasn’t the type to be out there or express himself all the time.

He was more of a physical person, the definition of ‘actions are louder than words'. He was never afraid to hold your hand or stick close to you wherever the two of you were, and you loved it. Like right now, how his hands were full as he held luggage from the car and the key to open the door and yet still kept his arm linked with yours.

He let you walk in first and was quick to follow behind you, placing the bags down by the door side and following in your steps. You took time to scan the room before turning to him quickly, a wave of dizziness hitting you before you hunched over holding your head.

He was quick to come to your side, his hands holding your shoulders and ushering you to side down. He knelt in front of you as you sat, caressing your cheek with a hand before placing it on your forehead with a frown.

You quickly swatted his hand away, rolling your eyes and scoffing. Irritation was quick to come flooding into your chest, you were perfectly fine. You’re here for vacation, not to be babied, there’s no way this was happening now of all times.

“I’m fine, I just missed my step.” You said, earning a raised brow from Katsuki, who now sat with his legs crossed in front of you while your legs were planted on the floor from the edge of the bed.

“You missed your step because your dizzy, that move was too quick for you, js take it easy.” He spoke, tapping your knee before getting up to get the bags in front of the door. You only watched him with a slight frown, maybe this vacation wasn’t going to be as much fun as you thought.

You were going to get up, but hesitated, anxiety slowly replacing the irritation in your chest from earlier. You wanted to help, especially with your own bags, even as Katsuki insisted, he had everything handled, it wouldn’t kill him to have a little help.

You only sat there in your thoughts, debating as you chewed on the inside of your cheeks. Initially you gave up with a sigh, now laying flat back down on the bed with a thud, causing Katsuki to perk his head up.

“I’m surprised you haven’t said anything about there only being one bed.” He spoke, you only turned your head and smiled softly, listening to him as he walked out of the bathroom and began checking the drawers in the room.

“I was going to say something before I toppled over.” You spoke in honesty, closing your eyes as you did so. It was the only reason you had turned around so suddenly, prepared to make a joke out of it before the situation escalated far from what either of you two had expected.

You heard shuffling from your side before feeling the bed sink as he sat next to you. You turned your head to look up at him with a smile, to which he returned the favor. Just as you did so a thought popped up in your head that you had no choice but to say aloud.

“Sorry for not being there for your birthday.” You said in a joking manner, nudging him in efforts to laugh with you as you began giggling. You soon stopped and looked at him with a look of regret when his smile formed into a straight line, now turning his head to look at the wall.

Honestly, if he were to speak on the situation, he wasn’t sure if he would be more hurt to see your reaction if he told you what happened or just remembering it all together. Whatever outcome was to show he was sure he wasn’t going to say even a word of everything.

Throughout the whole day you had always asked him how he was doing, and now he was happy, perfect even. He had gotten back the one thing that he couldn’t fathom losing, his mother had always spoken of how some people grieve differently and he never understood until your accident.

Katsuki hadn’t grieved, whether distance relatives who passed which he had to attend their funerals, or past pets that’ve run away, he never grieved. He was so quick to channel any other emotion he was feeling into rage that he wasn’t sure what to do with himself while you were gone.

His parents asked him countless times what he wanted for his birthday, whether it was a new car or anything they could afford. Just to cheer him up they even mentioned having a party or getting his favorite kind of cake, but when his response to what he wanted was you they could only turn to one another with a frown.

For the first time in all of his years of celebrating his birthday he cried. He wasn’t sure as to why he couldn’t stop, but whenever you came to mind, he just couldn’t help it. His entire room was filled with you, framed pictures you’d placed on his dresser, or the shoes and hair ties you’d purposely leave, all of it stayed in his room, always left untouched. Not to mention the fact alone that he went on to call your phone countless times just to hear your voicemail.

That day was also one of the first times he hadn’t come to visit you where you rested, and the guilt nearly ate him alive. It broke his mothers' heart to see her only child this way, and it hurt even more knowing she couldn’t console him and say everything would be alright when she herself didn’t even know if it was true.

So, he decided to close all of it off, not let it go and erase it, there was no erasing it. It was easier holding onto you now and pushing to move forward than hold onto the past of everything that’s happened. He knew all couples went through situations that would impact their relationship, but if strong enough they’d overcome it, that’s simply what’s happening now.

“It’s okay” he spoke, his voice hoarse as he stood up to look outside, seeing that it was getting late as the colors of the sky were drained. He turned to you, now sitting up on the bed remembering his plans for the night. Thankfully the two of you had eaten before arriving here, completing the easiest task before this one.

“Are you okay?” You asked, now getting out of the bed with caution as you made your way up to Katsuki, opening your arms to offer a hug. He cocked his head to the side before smirking at you, leaning over to embrace you before kissing your cheek.

“Did you pack a bathing suit? Got something I wanna show ya’.” He spoke, grinning at you as he pointed out the door, you only nodded to his question, curiosity now gnawing at your brain. “Go in the bathroom and put it on, I’ll wait for you.” He spoke cheerfully you only nodded awkwardly as you went to do so.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

You were currently walking blindfolded with Katsuki in front of you, or at least you hoped he was. He was holding your hand tightly as he walked slowly, ushering for you to not remove your blindfold. It was cold, and not just because you were wearing your two-piece bathing suit, but because of the cold air that blew from behind you. You could practically feel the goosebumps ridden all over your skin.

"Y'know I had planned this to be a hiking trip, but I didn't wanna take any risks with ya'." He spoke, now placing both of his hands on your shoulders and standing from behind you before removing your blindfolds. "So, we're choosing the safer option tonight." He finished, watching your reaction as you opened your eyes to see the hot springs in front of the two of you, and surprisingly vacant.

He had explained everything to you in order to calm some of your nerves down, this was simple and sweet, he had planned everything out since before the great battle, but the aftermath pushed back everything. Even so, when he woke up in the middle of the night to see a missed call from you and his other friends texting him about your status, he was quick to rebook his reservation and pay everything off late and let your parents know it early morning.

He was sure this was a perfect idea, it was safe, and the water was warm, of course it was safe, anywhere with him was safe. He too had never let go of your hand, only intertwining your fingers with one another as he smiled at you softly, pulling you deeper into the water until the warm waves clashed against your shoulders and his torso repetitively with your actions.

"You look so beautiful" was all he said, you smiled widely and looked off to the side, nodding as a 'thank you' and placing your hands on your arms crossing them before undoing it as your bathing suit strap loosened and fell. You were quick to toss it back over your shoulder properly before Katsuki took notice of it, raising a brow.

"Sorry, it's kind of loose on me, I haven't worn it in... a while." You hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheeks as you thought back on everything. It wasn't surprising that in the time that had passed you'd lost weight, but even before hand you hadn't really liked speaking or boasting on your body, now it felt as if things were unfamiliar to you, and you weren't sure how to handle it.

"I'll fix the straps for ya, js' turn around." He spoke, positioning himself upright against one of the rocky walls behind the two of you. You only nodded and obliged, fixing yourself properly against him as you held onto the top of your bathing suit, looking away at anything to ease your mind of the tension that circled you two.

It was normal to have tension, you two were a couple, this is a couple thing. You took a deep breath, exhaling softly as you felt Katsuki's fingertips brush against your back and shoulders, adjusting your straps. He was gentle and his hands were warm, relieving you of the previous goosebumps you had. He had moved your tied hair to the side, gently placing his hand over your neck in a swift movement before lowering himself to kiss you on your upper shoulder, making you shudder slightly.

You gave in of course, being taken by surprise before but now relaxing a bit in his hold, he was quick to lower both hands now, embracing you from behind. You smiled to yourself softly as you closed your eyes and rested your head back on his chest, feeling him press a kiss on the top of your head before speaking.

"I missed you, a lot." He said, you chuckled a bit and shook your head at his words, feeling flattered he felt that way and that you were able to make him feel that way. Honestly if you were to travel back in time to you 10 years ago there was no way you would've expected to get this far with Katsuki, then again here the two of you are.

"Careful, your extra soft sweet spot is showing, thought you wanted everyone to know you're badass." You spoke with a smile, hearing him scoff at your joke as you laughed, he only held you tighter before speaking again.

"I feel more comfortable with you" he said with a sigh, making you frown slightly with sadness. You only turned to him and flashed a smile, letting the guilt that sat heavily in your chest die down as you brought your hands up to his face and caressed it.

"I'm not going anywhere, I swear it." You said sternly, nodding as you looked into his eyes, he only smiled and turned his head to the side, kissing your hand. Without any hesitation he leaned down to kiss you passionately, and you nearly immediately gave in, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him in deeper.

He was quick to respond, lowering his hands that were wrapped up around your back lower, underneath your bottom in a way to saddle you up. You jumped slightly and slowly, the water slowing your movements, but it was just enough to get you into his arms and up on him as the two of you continued to exchange kisses.

You were the first to pull away, locking eyes with him as you caught your breath, as he did his as he placed you down back into the water smoothly. You watched as he diverted his eyes, not wanting to make eye contact with you, you quickly followed his face and stood in front of him, smiling and nodding to him.

"Are you sure you're ready?" He asked, his face covered in worry and concern to what you two were speaking of, taking things to the next step. You replied back to him with a firm answer and nodding with a smile again, kissing his cheek as a way to calm him a bit.

Oh, and trust it definitely worked, because as of now he had you pinned against the rocky walls underneath him as your moans echoed in the corner against the warm waves bouncing between the two of you. Your arms were flapped over his shoulders as he kissed your face all over, kissing the corners of your mouth trying to get you to kiss him again as you were distracted, focusing on trying to make this moment last longer before your second orgasm of the night began to build up.

You were also attempting to be as quiet as possible; it wasn't easy when Katsuki was purposely trying to fish noises out of you, angling your hips higher to thrust into you over and over again, grunting into your ear. You were hot and sticky, and your heart felt as if it was bursting out of your chest from such a euphoric moment you haven't went through before.

You were unaware of how much time had passed by but honestly, you wish you could stop time itself just to stay in this moment. Katsuki was so sweet with you, practically babying you through your previous orgasm and doing the same this time, he was so full of passion like you've never seen before.

The pit of your stomach began to tighten again as you dug your fingernails into the sides of his arms and shoulders as he penetrated you, the faint sounds of your sticky flesh clapping against one another echoing against the rocky walls.

"Kats... slow down, I-"

"Easy, easy, you close? I got ya'" He cut off, kissing the side of your face quickly before reaching one of his hands down towards your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion against the water. Your moans grew louder, now clashing your head down against his collar bones feeling your head spin and the heat between your legs get worse.

It hadn't helped that you two were in the water, it had splashed against your clit and nipples numerous times and every time felt more overwhelming than the last. There it was, that heat getting higher and higher with the coil getting tighter and tighter in your abdomen, without a second thought you threw your head back, just an inch away from hitting the rock walls.

It was written all over your face how unstable you had become, how close you were, Katsuki could read it all over your face the same way you could see the same expression on his face. He looked so handsome to you, his eyes shut tight as if trying to concentrate on his own orgasm.

Wrong, he was focusing on holding it in, not wanting to reach his peak before you. He had already taken two breaks before to try and stop the buildup, but he was so tired, his body was giving out, he was certain he wasn't going to last a minute longer. He was right about that, because right after you reached your climax only a few seconds after he was quick to pull out of you, groaning loudly into your shoulder as his body jerked forward.

It had taken a while for the two of you to catch your breath, yours a little longer than Katsuki, making him worry somewhat before coming down from his high. There wasn't a moment shared afterwards between the two of you where there wasn't any skin-to-skin contact, and you loved it.

"Let's finish this night in the bedroom don't you think?"

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn 🌸my main navigation

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Happy Anniversary M’Love.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

anniversary masterlist here !!

authors note - can you believe that it’s my blogs one year anniversary?? time has simply gone by so fast and im so thankful kill for everyone that has been there along the way 🥲 i adore each and every single one of you. 🥹

warning: smut.

word count - 1.6k

in which, it’s your and your husbands first wedding anniversary, he’s flown the two of you out to the country where it all began, hired a boat and got you all to himself, what more could he ask for?

May 22, 2023.

Exactly one year ago, in the intimate courtyard of your Italian villa, you said "I do" to the absolute love of your life.

The memory of that day is etched in your mind like a cherished painting. Surrounded by your closest friends and family, under the canopy of Mediterranean skies, you exchanged vows that echoed the depth of your love for each other.

The scent of Tuscan flowers mingled with the laughter and joy that filled the air, creating a moment suspended in time.

Now, as you celebrate your one-year wedding anniversary, back in the picturesque town of Civita di Bagnoregio where it all began, he surprised you with a romantic gesture that makes your heart skip a beat.

He had rented a boat for the two of you, a symbol of the journey you've embarked on together.

As the boat gently rocks on the tranquil waters, you and Harry find yourselves hidden away from the world, cocooned in the intimate embrace of the bedroom.

You lay sprawled on the soft mattress, your eyes tracing the contours of Harry's back as he applies sunscreen with gentle strokes.

His tattoos dance beneath his touch, each one telling a story of his journey through life. You're mesmerized by the way his muscles flex and ripple beneath his skin, a testament to his strength and resilience.

Silently, you rise from the bed, the gentle sway of the boat beneath you barely perceptible as you make your way over to where Harry stands by the dresser. With a mischievous smile playing on your lips, you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him close as you press tender kisses along his back.

The taste of sunscreen lingers on your lips, but you pay it no mind, lost in the sensation of Harry's warmth beneath your touch. He lets out a surprised laugh, turning to face you with a quizzical expression.

"What are you doing?" he asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You simply hum in response, your lips trailing a path of soft kisses along the expanse of his back, reveling in the feel of his skin against yours.

Each touch ignites a spark of desire within you, fueling the fire that burns between you.

Feeling Harry's hand press against your waist, drawing you closer, sends a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. His other hand gently tilts your head upward, his eyes locking with yours in a silent promise of passion.

As his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, the world around you fades into insignificance, leaving only the sweet taste of his love lingering on your lips.

The softness of his touch ignites a fire within you, spreading warmth throughout your body as you melt into his embrace.

With each gentle caress, the intensity of your connection deepens, a silent symphony of desire and longing that binds you together in perfect harmony.

With a playful glint in his eyes, Harry whispers,

"Jump."

You chuckle softly, wrapping your legs around his waist and jumping into his arms. His strong embrace catches you effortlessly, his warmth enveloping you as he holds you close.

As you lock eyes with Harry, a mischievous smile plays on your lips.

"Well, here I am," you tease, your heart racing with excitement.

Harry's grin widens, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"And here I am," he replies, his voice laced with a hint of desire.

Before you can say another word, he presses his lips against yours once more, the kiss igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume your every thought.

Lost in the intensity of the moment, you let out a soft hum of approval, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepen the kiss.

Breaking away slightly, you meet his gaze with a playful glint in your eye.

"Take me to bed," you whisper, your voice filled with longing.

Harry's grin turns into a smirk as he carries you towards the bedroom, each step filled with anticipation.

"As you wish," he murmurs, his eyes never leaving yours.

As he gently lays you down on the bed, you find yourself surrounded by warmth and desire, the world outside fading into insignificance as you lose yourselves in each other's embrace.

He doesn’t hesitate in removing the green bikini top from your body, never once removing his lips from your skin, once the bikini top is removed you watch as he slowly makes his way down the bed, stopping at your legs, you can see the prominent tent forming underneath his swim shorts.

A soft moan fell from your lips as he pressed a delicate kiss to the nape of your neck, throwing your head back.

Your hands make there way to his chest, placing a hand over his heart, feeling it race underneath your fingertips.

“M’need you,” he begs, pupils blown. “Need you so bad, baby.”

Your body tensed as his hand edged closer and closer to the hem of your bikini bottoms, your eyes following his hands every move.

“Thought I’d have t’wait until later to get you like this,” he nips at your inner thigh. “Thought I’d only get to have you back home.”

“No,” you shook your head. “You can have me whenever you want.”

And with that, he pressed his tongue against your nerves, making you throw your head back in absolute bliss and ecstasy, as your mind became clouded.

He continuously pressed his tongue against your clit, your head hitting the pillow, eyes wide as every feeling entered your body.

He always made you feel so, so good.

“H-Harry,” you struggle to speak his name as you pulled and tugged at his curls, well the curls that were slowly growing back. “I’m close, so fucking close.”

He hadn’t been going at it for long, but he knew how to get you closer to the edge no matter how long he had.

He had his ways.

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” he raised his head from between your thighs and through hooded eyes you saw his face, your juices slipping down his chin.

You attempted to wrap your leg around his waist to get him closer to you, but before you had the chance he pinned your leg back down onto the bed. “Relax, take it all in.”

This time, he slid a finger in, making you throw your head back once again, your heart pounding.

“I’m close,” you whimpered. “Please H, let me come, please.”

He smirked above you, “Okay sweetheart, come f’me, come for y’gorgeous husband.”

And with that, you came undone.

Your moans filled the room of the boat, thankful that you were the only two on board, your chest was heaving and your hands were sweaty from gripping his arms.

He slowly crept his way back up the bed, his hands slowly snaking into his own shorts and sliding them down his legs, and that was when you caught sight of his length, it was dripping with pre-cum and the vein down the side of it was deep, and very very prominent.

“Do y’see what you do to me?” He muses.

He brought his hand to his shaft and pumped it a few times, his eyes rolling into the back of his head slightly. “Y’make me like this? Y’make me feel like the luckiest man in the world, y’know why?”

You gulped and shook your head.

He pinched your waist. “Because your all mine.”

He lined himself up with your entrance, the tip of his length nudgin against your entrance.

The two of you had discussed a couple of months ago that you were ready to start trying for a baby, and so that meant no condoms and going raw.

“Are you ready for me?”he quizzed, grabbing ahold of your hand as he nudged his tip a bit further.

“Yes.”

And just like that he pushed himself all of the way inside.

One hand remained in yours whilst the other pressed itself against your stomach, he watched you through hooded eyes. “Can you feel that?”

He kept thrusting in and out of you, him doing the majority of the work as you raised the other hand to hold the side of his face, brushing against his stubble.

“Can y’feel me deep inside of you baby?” He raised an eyebrow as you watched a bead of sweat travel from his hair line. “Can you feel me filling you up, giving you m’babies.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded your head at his words, he knew the effect he had on you. “Uh-huh.”

His lips pressed against yours, he knew you were close again, he was as well, he knew that the second you came undone, he would be an absolute goner.

His thrusts became harder as he watched your mouth drop open, eyes glossing over.

“Come on baby,”He pressed his hand down against her bundle, and a low whine escaped her mouth. “Show your husband just how good he makes you feel.”

He was panting, continuing to do all of the work.

“Come on,” he urged “Come f’your husband.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your mouth dropped open once again, a small whimper of his name falling from your lips.

He watched from above you, and that was when you noticed through a starry gaze that his thrusts were become out of rhythm and slightly lethargic.

“Baby,” he whimpered out the common pet name, dropping his head to your clavicle as he came undone inside of you. “Oh baby.”

Both of you were sweaty as he dropped himself down onto your chest, your boobs squashed against his chest.

He lifted his head up slightly, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, as he grabbed ahold of your hand, the cool metal of his wedding ring clashing with the cool metal of your wedding band.

“Happy Anniversary, M’love.”

[xiao-come-home]

I love reading your random Boothill thoughts 🥲. Especially the one where he is a dad. Do you think he is a girl dad or boy dad?

Ahhh thank you! Ik you sent it before his story was leaked but man was this spot on 🫠 here’s some dad!boothill hc with reader because im starving

Warning: mentions of pregnant reader and all that jazz, SPOILERS FOR BOOTHILLS STORY.

I FELT IN MY BONES he was a girl dad before it was revealed to be canon! Boothill gives so much girl dad vibes it’s immaculate. He’d love to pick out pink clothes for his daughter, pink shoes, ponies and other plushies! Or rather, he loved.

That’s until you happened to get pregnant shortly before he left for his surgery. He came back a few weeks later with his new body, but no one was home. A small gift bag sat on the table, waiting for him; Boothill opened the bag and grabbed a piece of long paper, a black and white picture. A small bean present in the middle; the back of the picture held a tiny caption, that read: “I’m only a few weeks old. I can’t wait to meet you, daddy.”

Even though the wound was still fresh and open, since not long has passed since the incident on his planet - Boothill began to feel bitter determination to give his baby the best life they could ever have; this time, a life that wouldn’t see its end so fast.

Boothill is very interested in your pregnancy! He’s sometimes unable to go to every appointment (whether be it the ipc who are hunting him, or the opposite), but he knows he can’t mess it up. Not again. He’s always holding your hand when you have an ultrasound scan, glaring at the doctor and making sure they don’t hurt you or the baby, and giving your tummy so. many. kisses. He assists you in the bath, just talking to you can keeping you company, since water, cords and a pregnant human aren’t a good combo. He wants you to tell him everything.

That’s when you finally tell Boothill that you’ll have a baby girl - his mechanic heart shatters and swells with love at the same time; it’s such a strange feeling, that makes the cowboy feel a little guilty. Both of you fall silent, until Boothill makes a move and closes the distance between you, smiling sadly at you and softly caressing your stomach with his hand, “I’ll treasure her forever.”

There are days when Boothill truly feels like the hole in his heart cannot be healed after your first daughter, but he knows she’d love to have a little sister. Yet he’s here, now a cyborg and the only memory of her is just one, lonely picture. He makes sure to never let her existence fade away by telling your round tummy that he’ll love them both until the end.

On a happier note, Boothill is just. Such a good dad, but also a chaotic one sometimes, especially if your daughter inherits her dad’s personality. They’re doing everything together - if she wants to have her hair braided, he does so, and lets her braid his (even if his hair gets so tangled at first, to the point he has to cut it 😭), good god! He loves her so much and always hugs her so tightly when she runs up to him after she notices her dad is back home.

Boothill just loves hearing her little giggles and always makes her laugh! Sometimes he tickles her so much she throws her plushies at him.

Boothill wants all her milestones to be forever preserved. He has tons of pictures of her, a few photo albums - it’s never enough. He’s so proud when she says her first word, when she takes her first steps by herself, her first drawing for him (even if she drew it on the fridge with a black marker), her first birthday. He wants to give her everything she could ever have.

Boothill might've cried the night when his little baby drew him a family portrait - with you, herself, her daddy and older sister. He's injected in her every possible good memory about her, and she never fails to appreciate her older sister even if she isn't there, knowing her dad still loves her just as much.

When Boothill’s little princess cancels the weekly tea party he’s always attended, it’s HIM who feels sad about and pouty about it.

Boothill buys his daughter tons of different hats! They’re always carefully picked and he makes sure she likes them waiting for her approval, but most of the time she wants to just wear his. She doesn’t care she’s drowning in it, it’s the best because it’s Boothill’s hat.

Even though Boothill never mentioned her anything about playing guitar, one day she started to play him a tiny bit of song she learned at school - although clumsily and due to stress, Boothill listened to her and threw her in the air in happiness when she finished - he knew it was your job and couldn’t be more thankful. Once again, he made yet another guitar in his life - this time to finally listen to his little one’s music and teach her many, many other songs they’d later play and sing together.

Oh god, when Boothill’s daughter announced her “boyfriend” she met at daycare, he just stared at her with wide eyes. This is also an instance where he cried that night and you had to calm him down. Later on he insisted to be the one to take her to daycare, and gently threatened the said toddler, “look, stinker. Don’t ya dare GET NEAR ma lil’ angel, or else.” This was his last visit without your supervision. And also, your daughter just laughed at him and left… so yeah, plan failed successfully, I guess?

Mandatory naps with daddy after daycare. Well, Boothill only pretends to sleep when she looks at him - but once she falls asleep on his chest, he looks at her with so much love, gently resting on his chest and stroking her hair, that was just like his and adoring her tiny face, that he thought was the most perfect mix of you and him. Boothill shushes you with his finger quietly, when you ungraciously enter your home. A content smile appears on his lips when you give him and your daughter an apologetic kiss on their foreheads, still hearing her snoozing tenderly.

[meracyn]

The love you left behind

oneshot. gn reader, angst.

tw ; mentions of death

How long has it been already?

One month? Two? Is it five now? The days after the accident blurred together, it all happened too fast— You didn’t remember anymore.

You stood up, and walked over to where your lover sat on the soft grass, gazing out at the river, a pebble in hand. The sky above was coated in orange and pinkish hues, the sunset painting the clouds in a faint gray color mixed with purple, swaying in the cool breeze.

You stayed still, watching quietly. Even though you wanted to speak, you wouldn’t be heard. You were gone after all—

you were dead.

I wish things didn’t end this way.

It had become a routine; this silent watch over them—making sure they were doing well. In the beginning, it was hell. The shouts, the intense denial, the pain. The line that separated the living and the deceased wasn’t too wide.

You still held feelings, memories of your life throughout the years, still shed tears, even without a beating heart.

The pain was supposed to be gone after death. Why is it still there?

Loneliness, sorrow, love, too. It wasn’t different, it felt exactly the same. But it doesn’t matter, your feelings wouldn’t be able to reach them.

Unless we reunite in death.

As more time went by, you started to realize they were moving on— with someone else. Filling the void in their heart, forgetting about you. You could see it in their eyes, you could feel it even—the look of hope, of healing. The way their heart began to beat a bit quicker each time the two were met.

Can you still feel heartbreak even without a beating heart?

You finally had the answer.

You wanted to be angry. Hold a grudge against the person, shout and somehow reach out to your lover and be remembered again. Be loved again. But you couldn’t. You had no voice, nothing to carry your pain in.

Filled with dread, betrayal. You tried to accept their decision and let go, to be happy, but you couldn’t deny the growing feeling of resentment.

Is it selfish to wish that you never let me go?

You could only watch. Watch and wish. Wish that you were still a part of their love, be reassured and held in their arms once again. To be told “I love you” one last time.

But those wishes were unreciprocated. You were forgotten already, fading away in the back of their mind. The pain was unbearable, you weren’t in peace. The vow you once made after death to always protect them, ended up being broken.

You couldn’t watch anymore.

Either way, it wouldn’t have mattered if you still did or not.

After all, they were happy with someone else now.

— Aether, Izuku, Denki, Childe, Meguru, Gojo, Shoto, Tanaka, Tanjiro, Nagisa, Itto, Gorou, any of your favorite characters!

a/n; first time writing angst lmao btw theres so many characters i didnt know who to pick so i chose random but you guys obviously have bigger brain so choose whoever you think fits w/this, havent posted in almost a month too i just realized..ill go sleep rn 💀 and. pls send genshin reqs (but only ‘til sumeru im hella behind whoops)

[fuxuannie]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ  𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠. | kenji sato x gender neutral reader

love mail     —      this was an evil thought im so sorry. (experimental) angst :( themes of grieving/loss mentioned

︰꒱꒱ "PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER, KENJI." he'll mutter to himself, his hands buried deep into his hair as he takes shaky, unstable breaths. this is the 5th time rhis week, it hasn't gotten any easier. it's just so hard to even think at this point. every thought is corrupted with the idea of you, any time he tries to even function his brain thinks of your smile and he breaks. why won't you leave? why do you make his days melancholic when you were once the reason they were the reason they were filled with ineffable joy.

why won't he let go of your memory? why won't he get rid of the empty soda can you left on his table? or the jacket you let him borrow? he knew it wouldn't fit him, after all. but you both also knew he just wanted to keep a part of you. how cruel that it'll be one of the last things that'll ever remind you of him. when your house got destroyed, barely anything was scavenged. the one place that was so full of you was erased, and he had no way to properly grieve that.

baseball is his only distraction, and by then not even that can keep his mind off you for long. his coach begs him to take a leave for as long as he needs, he refuses. if he accepts, he'll have to be alone with himself again. and thats his worst fear. being face to face with his own mind, his very cruel, unforgiving mind. kenji's thoughts were hardly repressible, and only your saccharine presence could silence his racing mind. he's afraid he'll have to live with them preying on his soul; forever victim to his own psyche.

he'll write poems you'll never get to read, sing songs you'll never hear, and say things you'll never get to know. he wishes he did more, but even if so, would that have been enough? could he have truly avoided this longingness for you even if he had more memories? he's not sure. he wishes he had an answer.

one day, he'll think he's okay again. he'll wake up and feel a little more life than yesterday, his mind isn't so enigmatic — and he doesn't feel trapped in his own mental prison. he'll make his bed slowly, but it no longer feels like a chore. he brushes his teeth and fixes his hair, the thought of you coming behind him with a hug doesn't cross his mind. mina instead reminds him he has a meeting this afternoon.

he feels the world has fallen into quiescence, everything is peaceful and he feels like he can breathe again. he takes a step out of his home, and he keeps going forward. kenji will walk to a store, he buys a small coffee, not a medium. you aren't there to ask him for a few sips anyway. the day fades away just as fast as it appeared, welcoming the dark night. for the first time in a while, he doesn't feel as if he's walking endlessly to a destination he doesn't know himself. he arrives somewhere, a tranquil park.

he sits on an empty bench, feeling the cold breeze of january in tokyo kiss his skin. it almost feels like you, he doesn't know how to explain it, but it does. and then he feels. it's complicated, but he just feels his heart squeeze and his throat suddenly forms a lump. he was getting better, wasn't he? so why, why until now — 3 years after your death.. he felt like this? so many years wasted with suppressing his feelings. for once, he will let himself grieve. tomorrow? he's not sure. but he simply hopes he'll be kinder to himself. just as you would have wanted for him. missing you came in waves, after all.

[magnagaruzenmon]

Vacation Love II

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains of Hara’s apartment, soft and golden, making everything feel warm and alive. She stood in front of the full-length mirror, her back to me, adjusting the strap of her lilac sundress. The color suited her perfectly, the way it brought out the fairness of her skin and the effortless elegance she always carried.

Meanwhile, I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her. I couldn’t help but smile—she had this way of making even the simplest moments feel like art.

“You know,” I said, tilting my head, “we’re going to the beach, not walking a runway.”

She caught my eyes through the mirror, raising an eyebrow. “Just because you don’t mind looking like every other tourist doesn’t mean I have to.”

I laughed, stepping further into the room. “Fair enough. But let’s be honest—you’re going to outshine everything there anyway.”

She turned to face me, her lips curving into one of those soft, playful smiles that always stopped me in my tracks. “That’s the idea,” she said, her voice light.

Hara turned to face me, her lips curving into a soft smile. “That’s the point.” She said before approaching me in a loving kiss. My hands wandered her perfect body before Hara said,

“Greedy boy,” Hara teased

“I’m gonna have to hold out from touching you for almost a full day,” i complained

Hara smiled, “do you think we have time for a quickie? Im not wearing any underwear under this sun dress,”

“Only one way to find out,” I said before lifting Hara’s dress up and appreciating her gorgeous thighs and ass.

“Oh fuck yes,” Hara moaned “be rough with me,”

I fished out his cock before sliding into Hara’s perfect pussy,

“God babe! How do you always stay so tight,” he groaned while bottoming out inside of her.

“Because I love your big dick babe!” Hara groans as Hiro begins to thrust. Hara starts fucking herself on Hiro’s dick hoping to get him off fast she says, “Okay babe now cum,” as per usual I cum on her command but instead of cunning inside of Hara I pull out to test a theory I had about her and to my surprise. Hara doesn’t cum. Hara looks at me confused.

“Huh I guess you do have a cum fetish,” Hiro said surprised.

Hara was about to say something until the sound of their driver’s car pulling up to the curb broke the moment. The faint rumble of a car engine outside pulled me out of the moment. Our driver was here. I glanced at my watch, then grabbed our luggage from the corner of the room. Hara, unhurried as always, reached for her wide straw hat and sunglasses, setting them on like she’d stepped out of a magazine spread.

We stepped outside, and the cool morning air hit me, carrying the faint scent of cherry blossoms from the park nearby. Hara walked beside me, her heels clicking softly on the pavement until we reached the car.

Once we were settled in, she leaned into me, her head resting on my shoulder. “I can’t wait to see the islands,” she murmured, her voice a little dreamy. “The beaches, the sunsets, the waves… It’s going to be perfect.”

I placed a kiss on her forehead without thinking, the way I always did when she got like this. “With you there? It already will be.”

Expanded Scene

The car started moving, the hum of the city slowly fading behind us. Buildings zipped past the window, their reflections caught in Hara’s sunglasses as she leaned against me, her head resting on my shoulder. She smelled faintly of lavender and the faintest hint of her favorite perfume—subtle, just like her. The airport loomed ahead, a promise of escape: clear skies, warm sand, and memories we hadn’t made yet.

I tightened my arm around her shoulder. She sighed contentedly. “You’re awfully quiet, Hiro,” she teased. “Thinking about work again?”

“No,” I said. “Just imagining how perfect this trip’s going to be.”

Her soft laugh echoed in the cab. “Good answer.”

We pulled up at the curb, and as soon as the driver unloaded our luggage, Hara grabbed her hat, flipping it onto her head with practiced ease. I adjusted my duffel bag over my shoulder and took her hand, leading her through the sliding glass doors into the bustling airport. The sound of rolling luggage and muffled announcements blended into a chaotic symphony.

It didn’t take long before we spotted a familiar face—or two. Riku, my roommate, stood near baggage claim, tan and tired but still managing his usual lazy grin. Beside him was a young woman in a wide-brimmed hat and flowy dress.

“Is that… Iori?” Hara said, her voice tinged with surprise.

The woman turned, her expression mirroring Hara’s. “Hara? What are you doing here?”

Hara smiled, stepping forward. “Hiro and I are heading to Hawaii. A much-needed escape where we’re going to lounge on the beach and have the time of our lives. Also we are going to fuck like a lot,”

Iori gave an approving nod. “Well, good for you. I know Hiro’s been a madman lately with all those videos and Naafiri. I can imagine he needs a break.”

Hara’s eyebrows knit together as she turned to me. “Who’s Naafiri?”

“Oh, that’s just my daughter,” I said, my tone flat and matter-of-fact.

Hara froze, her face shifting between confusion and disbelief. “What?” Her voice rose slightly. “You never told me you have a daughter! How could you not tell me? After all this time we’ve been together!”

I could see Riku and Iori smirking out of the corner of my eye, already catching on to the setup. I pulled out my phone, scrolling deliberately.

“She’s a sweetheart. You’ll love her,” I said, handing Hara the phone.

Hara stared at the screen, her expression transforming from shock to realization as she saw the picture: Naafiri, my adorable, bright-eyed Shiba Inu, grinning from ear to ear. Hara turned to me, her face burning red.

“You… you jerk! You had me thinking—” She swatted my arm, her hat nearly falling off. “Why are you so mean?”

I burst out laughing. “Hey, you were there when I got her! You should’ve put it together sooner.”

Hara rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath as Riku and Iori chuckled. “Come on, Hara, he’s been talking about Naafiri nonstop,” Riku said, dragging his suitcase. “You’re not off the hook for not catching that.”

“Whatever,” Hara said, throwing a glare my way, though the corners of her mouth betrayed a smile.

We said our goodbyes to Riku and Iori, who were heading back to my apartment, and continued toward the check-in counter. Hara stayed close as the chaos of the airport wrapped around us. The crowds, the lines, the muffled announcements—it all started to wear on her. Every now and then, I’d feel her hand brush mine or her fingers tighten on my sleeve, her subtle way of seeking comfort.

I patted her head gently each time, like I always did. It had become second nature.

By the time we reached customs, she seemed calmer. As we handed over our passports, she glanced at mine and snickered.

“Diablo… You know, I always find it funny that your name is Diablo, but here in Japan, you go by Hiro.”

“My grandma gave my dad a silly name,” I said with a shrug. “So, naturally, he passed it down to me.”

Hara tilted her head, a sly grin spreading across her face. “Are you going to keep the silliness going?”

I raised an eyebrow. “I’d have to have a kid first to pass it down. Then I’ll let you know.”

Her grin widened. “Well, on this trip, that can be arranged.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes as she burst into laughter, clearly enjoying her joke. But as we approached the gate, I couldn’t help but glance over at her. She was all smiles, leaning slightly toward me, her excitement about the trip almost tangible.

On the plane, Hara slipped back into the confident, happy woman I knew and loved, the kind of person who could make even the smallest moments feel special. Her restless energy, however, mirrored my own. Planes always stressed me out—the hum of the engines, the cramped seats, the strange sense of being suspended between two places with no way out. Hara fidgeted beside me, her fingers drumming lightly on the armrest. Every so often, she’d glance out the window, then back at me, her expression a mix of curiosity and boredom.

Finally, she leaned in, breaking the monotony. “Hey, Hiro,” she said, her voice laced with mischief. “How did you and Riku become buddies?”

Her tone told me she knew this wasn’t a simple question, but she asked it anyway. I turned to her, my eyes narrowing playfully as I took a moment to think. The hum of the plane filled the silence between us, but Hara didn’t push. She just tilted her head slightly, her gaze steady, genuinely curious.

“Well,” I began, shifting in my seat. “I felt isolated by the creative world I was surrounded with. Everyone had their own agenda, and it felt like they were always trying to mold me into something I wasn’t. So, one day, I quit. Just walked away from it all.”

Hara’s expression softened, her hand resting under her chin as she listened. “And that’s where Riku came in?”

I nodded. “Yeah. He showed up out of nowhere one day, asking me all these questions—nothing invasive, just curious. Then he’d have me help out on a few of his projects. At first, it was small stuff, but he kept pushing. One day, he just said, ‘Come on, dude, come back! You clearly love doing this, and you’re good at it. Screw all those idiots.’”

Hara’s lips curled into a soft smile. “Of course, you were hesitant. I mean, you—once bitten, twice shy.”

She paused, then blinked at me, her brow furrowed. “Wait… once bitten, twice shy? What does that even mean?”

“Oh,” I said, realizing she might not know the idiom. “It means if you’ve been hurt by something before, you’re less likely to put yourself in that situation again.”

Hara chuckled softly. “Makes sense. I can imagine.”

“But Riku didn’t let up,” I continued. “He said, ‘You don’t need to do this alone. You need a buffer—someone to talk to the regular people. Someone to look out for you when no one else will.’”

Hara nodded, her smile growing as if she could picture Riku saying those exact words. “So, that’s how you two ended up working together?”

“Honestly, yeah,” I replied. “It started with him calling me up to help shoot videos. And if I remember correctly, I met you on my first shoot. You were the seductive little minx who caught my eye.”

Hara laughed, her cheeks faintly pink. “Flatterer.”

“Am I wrong?” I teased. “You did flutter your eyes a few times when you saw me.”

Hara raised an eyebrow, her voice playful. “Well, I couldn’t help it. It’s rare to find someone so extroverted, carefree, and with such a nice complexion, who not only knows Japanese but also has manners.”

I smirked. “And here I thought you fell for my dumb brown eyes.”

Hara let out an exaggerated sigh, leaning closer as she poked a finger against my chest. “No, I fell in love with this.” She pointed to my heart, her tone soft and serious now. Then she tapped my temple. “And this.”

Her words lingered in the air, the hum of the engines fading into the background.

I smiled, reaching over to take her hand. “Well, I guess I’ll have to keep both in good shape, huh?”

Hara laughed, resting her head on my shoulder. “You better. I’m not letting you slack off.”

For a moment, everything felt still—just us, the steady rhythm of her breathing, the promise of the days ahead. Then, something she said earlier stuck in my mind.

“You called me extroverted,” I said, turning my head to look at her. “I’m really not. The shoot was a mess, and I took charge because someone had to. I’m actually the introvert.”

Hara rolled her eyes dramatically. “You’re an ENFJ. Emphasis on the E,” she said, poking my shoulder.

I shrugged with a small smile. “Guess you’d know better.”

She chuckled, her laughter bright and carefree. “See? Even now, you’re proving my point.”

I shook my head, grinning as she settled back into her seat. The tension of the flight faded with her warmth beside me. For once, I found myself relaxing, her presence grounding me in a way nothing else could.

After a few more hours the restlessness gave way to pure lust at least for me. I looked over to Hara and she looked at me then said, “fuck it get that cock out,”

I got my cock out and Hara had her mouth on it in seconds. She groans as she takes it deep into her throat. “God you taste so fucking sweet,” Hara said as she began to gag on my rod. The way her throat convulsed and stretched around my cock felt heavenly as i remembered how good she was at deepthroating me.

“Oh fuck babe I’m about cum,” I say as I feel the tightness of her throat

Her eyes challenge me to give her all I got so i press her head down further on my cock as she drinks it all. I watch as her eyes roll into the back of her head, and notice her body quiver and shake in a familiar way,

“Did you just cum?” I ask intrigued. Hara slowly lifts herself off of my rod and with liddded eyes and a sexy gaze nods aggressively. She smiles as she licks some of my cum from the rim of her lips. Hara began stroking me again and said,

“What was it you said before? I have a cum fetish? Well I think you’re right but I think more testing needs to happen first,” she said as she lifted her dress. Before resting her sopping pussy on my hard again cock. She moved slowly as she ground her hips into mine.” I groaned as

“I’m going to fuck you every day this vacation and if I can manage it I’m gonna do it multiple times.” She says as her voice goes deeper. Her walls clench around me and I groan in her ear.

“Careful, you don’t want us to get caught do you?” She teases, knowing she likes me screaming and moaning. She licks the outside of my ear as her wet walls slide around my manhood,and then lightly bites my ear. She whispers happily, “fuck I’m gonna ruin you, again and again.” Hara says as she starts to pick up the pace. Her tits bounce in my face and before I could think to fish one of her tits out Hara says, “no not yet. Baby,”before riding me some more,

“Save my tits for when we land and you can properly enjoy them. This is just a tide me over until I can have you screaming my name,” she whispered. Her walls and her riding finish me quick as hell and I cum in her again before she cums again. She lifts herself up and she laughs,

“Oh I’m gonna have so much fun with this new discovery.” She teased

The plane touched down in Hawaii with a gentle thud, the cabin filling with the faint sound of applause from some enthusiastic passengers. Hara looked out the window, her face lighting up as she caught her first glimpse of the lush greenery and sparkling waters beyond the runway. She turned to me, her excitement practically radiating.

“We’re here!” she said, her voice a mix of relief and joy. “Hiro, we made it!”

I smiled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Yeah, we did. Let the adventure begin.”

Disembarking was surprisingly smooth. The air outside the airport was warm and humid, carrying the faint scent of saltwater and tropical flowers. Hara inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment.

“This smells like a vacation,” she said with a dreamy sigh.

We grabbed our luggage and found a taxi. As the car sped toward our hotel, the scenery shifted from bustling streets to serene beaches framed by swaying palm trees. Hara leaned against the window, snapping pictures on her phone while occasionally pointing out things she wanted us to explore later—shops, street performers, and a food truck advertising shaved ice.

The hotel was a picture-perfect resort, its open-air lobby welcoming us with a view of the ocean and a gentle breeze. A staff member greeted us with leis, the fragrant flowers cool against my neck as Hara grinned and admired hers.

“See?” she teased, adjusting the lei around her shoulders. “I’m already thriving here.”

The receptionist checked us in quickly, and we were soon on our way to the room. Hara practically skipped ahead, holding the key card like a prize. When we reached the door, she unlocked it with a flourish and stepped inside, letting out an audible gasp.

“Hiro, look at this!”

I followed her in, and the view took my breath away. The room was spacious, with modern furnishings in soft, sandy tones that complemented the massive windows overlooking the ocean. The balcony doors were already open, letting in the sound of waves crashing on the shore below.

Hara walked out onto the balcony, leaning against the railing. Her hair caught the breeze, and for a moment, she looked utterly at peace. I joined her, wrapping an arm around her waist as we took in the view together.

“This is perfect,” she murmured. “Better than I imagined.”

“It’s pretty great,” I agreed. “But I think it’s because you’re here.”

She turned to me, rolling her eyes with a playful smirk. “Cheesy, but I’ll allow it.”

We spent the next hour settling in—unpacking a little, taking turns freshening up after the long flight, and marveling at how soft the bed felt. Hara stretched out on it dramatically, arms spread wide.

“This,” she said, her voice muffled by a pillow, “is where I’m spending at least two hours every day. Minimum.”

I chuckled, sitting beside her. “You’re not going to want to explore the island?”

“Oh, I will,” she said, sitting up quickly. “But after I recharge here.”

As the sun began to set, we made our way back to the balcony, sharing a bottle of the welcome champagne left by the hotel staff. The sky transformed into a canvas of golds, pinks, and purples, and Hara leaned into me, her head resting on my shoulder.

“Day one,” she whispered. “And it’s already unforgettable.”

I kissed the top of her head, feeling the same sense of contentment. “Here’s to making the next ones even better.”

After that we passed out on the bed. I woke up to Hara grinding on me a couple hours later. Her perfect ass rubbing against my cock. Her words from earlier ringing in my head. “We could be as loud as we want.” My brain suggested,

“Just fucking take her now,” my body recommended but my heart and spirit said no until Hara turned to me and said

“I can feel your bulge poking me. You know I love waking up to you deep inside, come on and fuck me. She said slightly annoyed but mostly aroused.

Given the green light I strip her and myself bare before I thrust into her expecting pussy, she groans and says.

“I want us to be fully free use for each other this week anytime anywhere,” she said

For a moment I hesitated both Hara and I could have depthless sex drives and could easily lose days in a sex filled haze, but we were on vacation so we could indulge ourselves this once. I kiss her soft lips and she tastes sweet she tastes like she’s mine.

Hara gasps as I fully sheathed myself inside of her. Her hand caresses my face and she says ,”go on Diablo. Take it.” Her words and tone stir something deep, something dark within me I ran my rock through her wet snatch and Hara moans melodically as her bountiful breasts bounce beautifully with each thrust. Her eyes roll back into her head as she takes me in and out. I spank her ass once causing her to moan and her walls clench my cock.

“God I love your cock,” Hara moans I groan as I relentlessly plunge my cock deep inside her pussy, as i ravage her cavern she moans.

“Fuck,” she moans as I spank her three times before I cum inside her hole her body quivers as her walls send a constricting death grip on my manhood. Our bodies come down from the mutual orgasms as we stare into each other’s eyes. She smiles and my heart melts again, as I remember the first time we met

It was a rainy afternoon in Tokyo, the kind of downpour that turned the sidewalks into rivers and left people huddling under awnings or sprinting for cover. I hadn’t been in the city long, still fumbling my way through the language and the unwritten rules of urban life, but I’d already learned to keep an umbrella handy. What I hadn’t learned was how to balance that umbrella with the camera slung awkwardly around my neck.

I’d been snapping photos of anything and everything—bustling streets, neon signs, vending machines. As I adjusted the lens to focus on a narrow alley, I heard a soft laugh behind me.

“You’re holding it backwards,” a voice said in lightly accented English.

Startled, I turned to see her standing there, a delicate woman in a pale blue coat. Her umbrella was clear, the kind that seemed to glow faintly under the streetlights. Wisps of dark hair clung to her cheeks, damp from the rain.

“Backwards?” I repeated, looking down at my camera.

She stepped closer, her smile gentle but amused. “The lens cap is still on,” she explained, pointing to the front of the camera.

Heat rushed to my face as I fumbled to fix the mistake. “Oh, uh—thanks. I’m still kind of new to this.”

“I could tell,” she said, her tone teasing but kind. Then she tilted her head slightly, as if studying me. “Are you a tourist?”

“Sort of,” I said. “I’m here for work. But photography is… more of a hobby.”

“Work?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“I’m a writer,” I explained. “Or trying to be, anyway.”

Her eyes softened, a spark of interest replacing the humor. “A writer. That sounds… romantic, in a way.”

“More stressful than romantic,” I admitted, chuckling nervously.

She laughed, a quiet, melodic sound that seemed to cut through the rain. “I’m Hara Tsumugi,” she said, offering a slight bow. “And you are?”

I introduced myself, “Hiro Akoma,” awkwardly returning the bow.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, her tone warm. “Do you mind if I ask what kind of writer you are?”

I hesitated. “Uh… fiction, mostly. But I haven’t published much yet. I came here to find inspiration, I guess.”

She nodded thoughtfully, as though weighing my words. Then she gestured toward the alley I’d been photographing. “There’s a better angle from over there. If you want, I can show you.”

Surprised by her offer, I nodded. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”

We ended up walking together for a while, her umbrella sheltering us both from the rain. She pointed out little details I would’ve missed on my own—a hidden shrine tucked between two buildings, the way the rain pooled in patterns on the cobblestones.

“You have a good eye,” I said at one point.

“I like noticing things,” she replied softly. “Small things. They’re easy to overlook, but sometimes they’re the most beautiful.”

She walks in front of the stones and poses for me a couple of times, tilting her head just enough to let her hair fall to one side. Her smile is radiant, disarming, but it’s her freckles that always catch my attention—the delicate scatter across her cheeks and nose, like constellations against her porcelain skin.

Now, in the quiet of the present, I hold her close in the bed. My hand moves instinctively, fingers brushing lightly over those same freckles, tracing invisible lines between them as if they might lead me somewhere. Hara giggles softly, her voice breaking the stillness of the night.

“That tickles, Hiro,” she murmurs, her cheeks tinged with warmth.

I smile against her temple, murmuring, “Sorry.”

But she only laughs, the sound as soft and sweet as the hum of the ocean beyond our window. She takes my wandering hand and gently presses it to her chest, right above her heart. The fabric of her camisole is thin, and I can feel her heartbeat beneath my palm, steady and reassuring.

It’s a quiet signal, one I’ve come to know well. A simple, chaste movement that means she wants me closer. I shift against her, sliding my arm fully around her waist and pulling her into me until there’s no space left between us. Our legs tangle together naturally, like two pieces of a puzzle clicking into place.

Her head rests beneath my chin, and I feel the faintest brush of her breath against my collarbone. She’s warm, the kind of warmth that seeps into you and makes the world outside feel distant and unimportant.

“Let’s get married,” she says suddenly, her voice quiet but sure, as if she’s been holding the thought for a while and now it’s finally slipped free.

Surprised, I lean back just enough to see her face. She’s smiling up at me, her big, round eyes soft but filled with a playful kind of determination.

“Are you sure?” I ask, my voice gentle.

“Yes,” she replies, emphatic and unwavering. She shifts slightly, resting her hand against my chest now as if to steady both of us. “My parents love you. Your parents love me. And we’ve already done so much together. I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.”

Her words hang between us, carrying the weight of their sincerity.

I can’t help but smile. “Well, that’s a proposal if I’ve ever heard one.”

Hara laughs a quiet, joyful sound that seems to vibrate through me. She leans up, pressing a lingering kiss to my cheek, her lips soft and warm against my skin. Then she nestles back against me, her head finding its familiar place beneath my chin.

Her breathing slows as sleep begins to calm her, but she holds onto me tightly, as if afraid to let go even in her dreams. I let myself sink into the comfort of the moment, pressing a kiss to her hair before closing my eyes.

Our limbs remain tangled, a beautiful, chaotic mess that makes it impossible to tell where one of us ends and the other begins. And in the stillness of the night, with her heartbeat steady beneath my hand, I realize there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

The next morning the air shifted and Hara and I couldn’t keep our hands off of each other. It was as if the air had been doused with aphrodisiacs to keep us horny and unfocused. At breakfast, I felt her free hand wander till it found my lap, and she said,

“I’m so wet for you right now,” as her hand found my free hand she plunged it into her core, she yelped quietly before melting into the pleasure. We barely finished breakfast before we found a quiet corner of the outside beachside restaurant and my cock was in her slick cunt.

Ah! Oh God!” Hara moaned and to keep her (relatively) quiet I pressed my lips to hers, her wet walls, we tighter than she usually was and she was way more aggressive. Her hands clawed into my back as I stuck her. She moaned into my lips as the thought of getting caught brought me to a quick orgasm, which in turn brought her to one. I groaned as my seed flooded into her pussy, overwhelmed she moaned as she dripped under us, but I was still hard. Something that sent Hara further into the horny spiral,

“Fuck your one-eyed monster is glaring at me Hiro,” Hara said. I turned to her and she couldn’t even help herself before lowering herself down to my crotch she smiled as she took me in her mouth. She growled with lustful satisfaction as she took me all the way.

“Fuck what’s gotten into you today,” I groaned.

“What’s gotten into me? You’re the one with the hard cock.” Hara said in between gulps I grabbed the wall as I tried to steady myself before unloading inside of her again. Hate quivered as she came again. She looked up at me with that adorable smile then said, “Okay let’s go,” I rolled my eyes and helped her get dressed again.

The soft glow of the afternoon sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. The air smells faintly of saltwater and tropical flowers, a reminder of the day we spent exploring the island together.

We’re sprawled across the bed, limbs tangled and bodies pressed close. The cool sheets are a contrast to the heat we carry from the day, but the closeness between us makes the world outside seem far away. Hara rests her head on my chest, her fingers tracing slow circles on my skin, drawing idle patterns that both soothe and excite.

I glance down at her, her soft breaths a steady rhythm beneath my hand. Her hair, still a little damp from our swim earlier, smells faintly of coconut, and it falls over her shoulder in loose waves. She looks up at me then, her eyes sparkling with the same quiet curiosity that I’ve always adored.

“Do you think we’ll ever stop exploring?” she asks, her voice quiet but filled with wonder.

I chuckle softly, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t think I’d ever want to stop with you.”

Her lips curve into a small smile, the kind that makes my chest tighten. She shifts slightly, snuggling closer as if there could possibly be more room between us.

“You’re always so sweet,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s one of the things I love most about you.”

I smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Well, you deserve all the sweetness in the world, Hara.”

She hums contentedly, eyes closing for a moment as if savoring the quiet. We lie in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of each other’s presence.

“You know,” Hara begins again, her voice warm and thoughtful, “I was thinking about something today while we were walking along the beach.”

I raise an eyebrow, curious. “What’s that?”

“How lucky we are,” she says softly. “To be here, with each other. To have this time together.” Her hand, which had been resting on my chest, moves to trace the edge of my shirt. “I’ve been to so many places, seen so many things, but it’s never been the same as this. With you.”

I feel a surge of emotion—deep, genuine affection that blooms in my chest. My heart beats a little faster, but I hold her closer, letting my arms wrap around her even tighter.

“I feel the same way,” I reply softly, my voice thick with feeling. “There’s no one else I’d rather be with, no place I’d rather be. I didn’t know how much I was missing until I found you.”

She lifts her head to look at me then, her face so close that I can see every detail—the curve of her lips, the shimmer in her eyes. Her smile is warm and tender, and I can see the love she feels reflected in her gaze.

“Promise me we’ll always have this,” she says, her voice so gentle it feels like a prayer. “Even when life gets busy or things change, we’ll still have moments like this.”

I press my forehead to hers, our noses brushing lightly. “I promise,” I whisper.

Her lips meet mine in a soft, lingering kiss, full of the quiet intimacy we’ve built over time. The world outside disappears for a while as I lose myself in her warmth, her touch, and the sweet sound of her laughter.

When we finally pull away, we’re both still tangled in each other’s arms, breathing in time with each other, content in the silence that follows.

Hara settles back against me, her hand tracing idle lines on my chest again. I feel the steady rhythm of her breathing and the faint beat of her heart beneath my palm. There’s nothing else I need in this moment—just her, here with me.

We lie together in the soft quiet of the room, the world outside still and distant, and I know, with absolute certainty, that this is exactly where I’m meant to be.

[malfiora]

Good Enough

Bruce probably wasn't meant to hear it, but his heart squeezes all the same. His fingers clutch at his chest and his throat works around the lump suddenly lodged in it.

"I'll have to ask my dad," Dick had said. The words belong to another child, one Bruce has never met. But that voice – its tone, its warmth, its certainty – is Dick. Undeniably, unmistakably Dick. He's talking to one of his teachers (Mr. Mather, he recalls only because he had to deal with Dick's insistence that his biology teacher be called Ms. Sciencer for weeks) and he grins when he spots Bruce stalled by the door. "Oh, speak of the devil."

Bruce stumbles his way through a conversation about Dick's exceptional grades and aptitude for abstract concepts and how he has real potential as a mathlete, but his brain is humming with wordless excitement at the word "dad" and eager to hear it tickle the air again. He floats on that feeling all the way home, even elongating their return to tell Alfred to pull over at that fast food joint Dick likes, the one with the milkshakes.

And then he crashes. Dick disappears into his room to allegedly do homework (Bruce is eighty-five percent sure he's actually hopping onto his computer to IM Barbara Gordon), and with him vanishes the warmth of being considered a father. Left in its wake is a coldness injecting nausea into his gut.

He can't be a – he doesn't know how to – when did Dick even – and why him? The past three years flash by in reverse: Dick dancing through a spray of bullets, tears streaming from Dick's mask as he watched Batman fall from a snapped line just like they did, Dick standing proudly before a mirror in his brand new costume, a gleam of murderous intent staring up at him, a broken boy swallowed up in an EMT's blanket while his world lay shattered at his feet. What has he done? How could he think that drawing this bright kid into his dark roost was a good idea? And now Dick thinks of him as a father figure – it's too late to go back, isn't it?

He isn't John Grayson, will never be, doesn't want to try. He hears the whispers among polite society speculating why he won't adopt Dick, but none of them come close to the truth. It's rooted in fear (inaction always is). Fear that he'll be seen as the fraud he is, and then Dick will leave and regret ever calling him "dad."

He's not even Thomas Wayne, not for lack of trying. His memories of the man are faded around the edges but he knows he devoted himself completely to any and all that he loved: his career, his wife, his son. Thomas Wayne didn't do anything by halves. But Bruce Wayne is constantly torn – one foot planted in civilian domesticity fumbling his way through raising a child, the other firm in Gotham's underbelly hellbent on redeeming the damned while keeping his kid partner safe from the danger that he throws him into in the first place.

"Sir," Alfred calls, his voice soft. "If you're done drilling a hole through the carpet with your eyes, I've put tea on."

Bruce blinks and looks up at Alfred. "Tea sounds great, Alfred."

He plods after Alfred and into the tearoom. Alfred deftly sets out cups, saucers, and bowls of cream and sugar before pouring the fresh brew. Bruce murmurs a "thanks" before sipping his. Alfred lowers himself into the seat opposite his at the small table.

"Master Dick seems to be doing well at the Academy," Alfred says. "I can't imagine that that caused your dour mood."

Those who call Batman the world's greatest detective just haven't met Alfred. "Dick called me 'dad' today," he explains calmly. "Not to my face. I overheard him say it to his teacher."

Alfred hums. "Could mean nothing."

That's...true. Dick may have used the term as shorthand. "Dad" is easier to say than "legal guardian" and more specific and personal than "Bruce." It could have been a Freudian slip, Dick's mind supplying him with a cognitive shortcut subconsciously. Bruce sets his tea down and stares into the liquid.

"Or," Alfred presses on (Bruce hates the way his heart lifts a little), "he is starting to see you – us – as his family." Alfred sips and watches him.

"That's what I'm afraid of," he admits after a while. "Alfred, I'm not – Dick deserves so much better than –"

When it's clear that Bruce won't finish the sentence, Alfred clears his throat gently. "If I may, I'd like to share a secret with you." Bruce nods. "There was a time that I considered leaving you."

Bruce's eyes widen. "What?"

Alfred nods. "I thought that after your parents, I was the last person who should raise a child, especially one who needed his world put back together. Surely the Kanes would have made better surrogates. Perhaps a foster if a suitable one could be found." He smirked. "I almost considered the Queens before that awful accident."

The blood is rushing in Bruce's ears. Alfred, his most loyal and longest friend, had wanted to leave him? "What changed?"

Alfred takes another sip, contemplates. "I don't think anything has. Everyday I wonder if I made the right choice. If I am being selfish staying in your life simply because I love you too much to let you go."

Again, Bruce's chest squeezes. Alfred, his Alfred, has the exact same fear. That somehow he'll fail his charge, will lose him. And all this time, Bruce has never considered going anywhere, can't imagine his life without Alfred in it. Maybe – is that how Dick feels? That Bruce is his? God, if that's true then...then Bruce as he is just has to be good enough. Because he's not going to let Dick go.

"My son," he says, testing the word. It tastes sweeter than the tea on his tongue.

[2demondogs]

HIIIIIII RAHHH

sorry

Im the same anon who asked you to write the latest arthur x m!reader and omgg you envisioned what i wanted so well! you're an amazing author!!

I was also wondering if you were up to write more parts to this specific prompt of the affair? it doesn't have to be smut again, just a continuation of the story ykyk?

Thank you so much, I'm so glad you liked it! <3 Sorry this took so long, I had an immediate plot come to mind bc I'm fuckin' heavy w this AU but then I got nerfed by life. Original work I'm writing rn is affair-based too... I'm on a messy gay bitches kick I guess lol. No smut in this one.

For the uninitiated, part one is here. On Ao3, I've just added this as a 2nd chapter.

Words: 3.6k Tags: pre-canon, extramarital affairs (reader's married to a gal), chalk full of messy drama, this is like a situationship but even more evil

The bruises Arthur left lasted for nearly two weeks.

You're thankful that the soreness wasn't present for quite as long, coming in hard and fast in the morningtime. It felt like you'd sat on hot coals. Riding home was nearly unbearable, and not only because — for some reason that couldn't've been worth what it did to your heart — the man spent the night with you. Maybe he thought it would feel less transactional than an evening together usually must, though you'd not know. Maybe he holds every man he lays with while he sleeps.

The fact you don't know anything substantial about Arthur, sometimes, bothers you. Your wife wanted to lose her virginity on a more special occasion than her wedding day which also, sometimes, bothers you.

Anymore, you twist the ring around your finger and quiet that blackness in your gut by reminding yourself: if she's got someone else, well— haven't I?

She doesn't, you know. Never have you been one to play those petty games of accusation based only in your own sorrows. As you ready for bed, there is no other man undoing the laces of her corset. Nor does he do them up in the mornings, having learned exactly how tight she likes them done; no other woman fixes your ties when you wear one, nor goes to undo the first button of your collar because it looks less stiff this way.

Stiff is the awfulest thing, your wife believes, a man could be. You suppose you're inclined to agree, in most cases. It certainly does not ease the tension in your shoulders to know you're becoming stiff, and for reasons she's not privy to.

She hasn't got another, no.

Have you?

Firstly, it would break her heart. Or at least, you think as much. It felt too fresh to be desired how you were, openly and hotly, by Arthur. A wife should be her man's best friend and her, his, but is she too friendly? You had rolled that one around your head until the purple on your chest began to fade and you were beginning to forget, with a great sense of regret for how fast memories discolor themselves, how Arthur had looked at you that first moment alone. By then, it was beginning to aggravate you how difficult women's clothes are to do and undo.

Secondly, you hadn't been able to shake the idea that she'd find out. Someone saw you, you fear, and felt so bad for your poor betrothed that they're about to risk their own life to out you. Any minute now, two years of marriage and many more of some sort of love will be lost.

It'd been awful enough trying to fall asleep in a place with such a target over its head. It was foolish, you know now that you are no longer aroused and careless, to not find another, safer room to board in for the evening. It was foolish to feel safe because Arthur was beside you, and even more foolish to let Arthur stroke your hair. It'd only been for a moment. Your wife hasn't thought much of your requests for it every night since then, though her slender, soft fingers kept you awake and tense.

Mostly, you feel confused. Torn, more like; ripped apart. It's unavoidable, now, the answer to whether you like men or not. The wonder is so satiated, in fact, you're starting to fear that you used Arthur for your own exploration in a moment of callous selfishness led only by your prick.

It's soothed by the longing, and then you feel the pain of her delicacy. You're beginning to question if you like women or not. The answer is coming into focus the more you look at her, though she only thinks you missed her enough to be crazy for her.

God, does staring truly count as being crazy for someone?

How distant have I been?

How little have I known myself, all this time?

And yet remains the urge to be pleasant for her. To loosen your collar and yourself and have her draped over your arm, because you do still love her, even if only as some odd sort of close friend that lives with you and dotes on you and fixes your hair when it is windblown and looks at you when you light her cigarettes, because she's forgotten her matchbook again.

You fear, despite this love, you are using her.

There is still a certain, adoring pride you take in knowing how tightly to lace her corset, that she's absentminded but always remembers the dates of things, that she'll be happy if you lay out that food for the stray cats and make sure to feed her favorite one — that calico that looks like it's ninety years old — an extra slice of salami every time she goes to her sister's house for the weekend. Salami, always, because he doesn't like ham like the others do. She can tell if you're lying, somehow, so you always make certain to do it.

You aren't sure why she doesn't bring them inside the house. Sometimes you feel more kinship with the crowd of strays than you'd like.

It's an hour past noon when you hear the approaching of hooves from the parlor. Too spacious, with little to soak up the sound as it wafts in through an open window, cracked to let the summer breeze blow through the stuffy downstairs. Perfect timing, all things considered: you'd just finished a chapter of your Wilde collection.

While you sat the hardcover volume on the coffee table before the couch, you found it odd to hear hooves on second thought. Used to it, anymore, but unless your horse got out of the pasture again — possible, and very tiresome — your wife had not left on horseback.

Her friend's husband had driven by to take your ladies into town, which you declined because you did not care for the man and your wife didn't either. The thought of him wandering the city alone while the women shopped together was amusement of a cynical variety. She didn't want you to bicker with him, anyways, so you'd given her perhaps too much of your week's pay and a kiss on the forehead. She looked like a painting, which of course you told her, in her fine afternoon dress and those earrings her friend had made for her on her last birthday.

Sometimes you consider the very fine line you walk between comfort and wealth, and find yourself a little off-put by it. The house was a wedding gift, and much of it is empty still from your meager pay.

The foyer is rugged, though it needs a wash from the dust and dirt staining it. Door creaking, you try not to walk fast down the steps, though that changes when you see her being helped down from riding side-saddle on an unfamiliar horse by a man you don't recognize— right away. Talking, and she laughs, but it is strained and thick as though she's upset. You last heard that voice out of her when her father passed away.

"Sweetheart?" The brief worry flashes in your mind that she has found someone else; it's your guilt speaking. "What's goin' on?"

Her face appears from behind the broad shoulders, and she starts to meet you where you approach them. You wish your gun were not left in the bedroom, tucked into its holster on the nightstand, because there is something about all of this that is already twisting your gut.

What it is becomes clear soon enough. With her face in your hands, its makeup run down her cheeks and tracks of skin showing through her ruined rouge and eyeliner, you look over her shoulder at the man who's turned around. That thing coils tighter in your belly, twists into something even uglier than fear or anger: excitement.

His skin is beaten freshly red by the sun and his clothes are stained in traildust, but it is Arthur all the same. You should've known by that black hat, though it was too dark to have seen the scuff marks that would've told you from behind, or maybe by the way he stands. Missing the heat but as certain as he had stood staring down at where you were pressed to the wall.

Recognition flashes across his face, too, but he handles it with more grace. You realize she's began to speak, and afix her with all the confusion and sympathy you have.

"—chasin' me! Mister— oh, I didn't even ask your name," she's saying, looking back at Arthur.

He gives her a soft expression, as though she's a wounded animal. "Kilgore," he says. "Arthur Kilgore."

Had that been his name?

Perhaps it's his middle name, or his last. You could've sworn it was Callahan, but maybe in your overwraught mind the last month and a half has morphed it the same it's done to the visions of that evening. It wasn't entirely farfetched to think he might've lied in such a place, either.

She turns back to you, brows scrunched. "Mister Kilgore got them boys off my trail. God, I never should've left them two, they'll surely be worried to death, but I— I jus' wanted to be home, 'n' I hadn't any idea where they was by then." She sighs, shuts her eyes as if she can't bear to say it with her gaze on your face. The mahagony shadow is still painted on her lids. "Oh, I wish I would'a asked you to come with us, honey. I hate bein' alone in that godforesaken town."

Burying her face into your collar, she squeezes around your ribs tighter than you've ever felt, and you stroke her hair. "It's a'right," you soothe, rocking her. "You're home, now."

With her in your arms, Arthur standing awkwardly to the side, it feels— everything feels wrong. You find again that there is something missing from the way you hold her, and this is an awful moment to notice it.

"Well," Arthur says, settling his hands on his belt only to lift them in some gesture of that's enough for me. "I best be movin' on, now. I got—"

Your wife draws back, steps away to swing her body to face him. Her fingers clutch in your shirt's back, and then loosen, though her arm stays around you.

"You must stay for dinner," she says, palm open to him as if to display the offer. "It's the least we can offer. You might'a saved my life."

She turns to you, smiles and drops her tone the way she always does when she's sweet-talking. Her lashes are black and thick with mascara as she looks up through them. "And I don't know what you'd do without me."

For better or worse, you don't know either. You realize that is precisely the problem.

You flush, anyways.

Arthur begins to speak, eyes flicking between the two of you and your house, the stables out back. His face is unreadable, artfully so. You've never been more thankful, nor more curious as to how a man keeps his composure in a situation that's got you feeling like some part of you might implode, toe of your shoe antsily bouncing on the grass.

"I s'pose a hot meal does sound nice," he sighs, humble as ever. He takes his hat off, lays it over his chest. You look at your girl's hair instead, until he speaks, seeing him gesture with the gambler to her out of your peripherals. "Thank you, miss." Arthur finds your eyes, and you think maybe you see some of the tension you feel returned in them. There's a silent pointedness in how he returns his hat to his head instead of waving it towards you. "'N' you, o'course."

Feeling as though it's the right thing to do, you bring her closer by her bicep, sliding a hand around to squeeze comfortingly at the softness that her off-shoulder dress exposes of her arm. "Thank you, mister."

You'd insisted on helping with the cooking, and she insisted you keep Arthur company. It was your expected duty as the man of the house, but what a terrible choice it had seemed, and what a terrible choice it's coming to be.

Some young men had scared her half to death chasing her through the city street. She's alright, physically speaking. You'd been worried when she described it, but she swore she was untouched, which eased your concern only a little. Arthur affirmed as much.

You didn't and don't ask what he did to the boys. A feeling that he is more than he appears comes crawling up your neck, but you disregard it. A man who would stop and whisk your wife away from danger is not a man that you fear, let alone the way he'd treated you.

All you do is wonder if he realizes, based on the blasé expression on his face, the lives he touches. The way he's touched yours, twice now— you're uncertain on how it feels but, nonetheless, he has done it.

A man less keen on disturbing peace and quiet might have spoken up and said the man's got places to be, darling, and sent him away instead of inviting him inside. Punishment must make you feel better, you think, because that seems an even more terrible choice than allowing things to complicate themselves further in the name of your own relief.

Inside, once more. It was beginning to get easier to swallow the inklings of lust and the afterimages burned into your mind, but there is little to stave them off, now. Two weeks' worth of repression is brewing beneath the pressure of the half-dignified face you've kept sealed over top.

He apologizes for tracking dirt in while slipping off his boots, and that gentle consideration strikes you as too-familiar. Your wife laughs and says what a great idea before toeing off hers; all you can think of is jeans pooled around socked feet and smooth, exposed hip-bones. You clear your throat and lead them towards the sofa by a hand on her waist and his elbow.

How many lives has Arthur touched without knowing the burn he leaves behind? It's muggy in your throat, the want and the dismay and the horrible, no-good pleasure of being near him again.

As she disappears into the kitchen, he settles a respectable distance from you on the couch. The idea that he is not interested in any more fooling around makes you want to tear the skin off your hands, forcing yourself to settle for picking at the dirt gathered beneath your nails.

He looks out of place in the tidiness. You study him openly, and Arthur doesn't appear to mind. His eyes are wandering the paintings and scattered photographs on the walls. Fresh freckles are formed along his arms, or maybe you've merely forgotten them; his stomach has lost some of its fullness, which makes you glad dinner was offered and yet leaves you with questions; his his socks are holed against clean hardwood floor.

There's an awkwardness that lays only in how stilted both of you feel, though his own is considerably more concealed. It comes through in the air, a tightness in his spine. There's a thick blanket of oxygen between your bodies that you have no idea how to approach, although you know you shouldn't approach it at all.

"Nice home," Arthur says. His voice seems fuller indoors, warm and rough.

"Nice house," you agree. It's very unlike you to say such a thing. "Cigarette?"

Something ugly inside you wants to plead with him that you are not a cheater nor attached to him, though he didn't seem to care about either possibility with the promise of your warmth, and to lie and say you are only a heartless hedonist. By all accounts, most think the latter is better for a man to be.

Well, as long as he is a hedonist for another woman. You do not contemplate that, or else you'll truly go mad.

Arthur nods, a thanks under his breath. Your fingers fumble with the lighter once you've fished the carton from your breast pocket, almost dry and tasting bitterly of scraped up fuel when you drop the lever to ignite the end of your smoke. Patiently, he accepts the flame when you light his.

You feel terrible, but you yearn. He looks at your hand and he is gorgeous beneath brown lashes.

Oh, how you yearn. There is and there isn't— of so much. Does he understand what his presence is doing to you? He must, for how he turns his eyes up at you across the flame, easy and open and unspeaking but knowing.

"Wife's a pretty gal," he says, once he's settled back into the cushion. You can't decipher his tone, only to decide it's mere polite conversation. "Real sweet. Didn't think she'd ever stop thankin' me." He shrugs. "Jus' scattered some fools for her."

How pompous. You're delighted to hear so many words from him.

"She was scared," you say, as if you were the one who was there. Nothing else comes to you, so you reach over and slide the glass ashtray across the coffee to sit between you, flicking the end of your cigarette into it.

"Dunno what's wrong with fellers these days," Arthur says. He blinks and sighs, face suggesting it isn't just these days as he leans his elbows on his knees. You're inclined to agree, twisting at your wedding band with the cigarette tucked between your lips. "Lonesome lady mindin' her own business." He gestures with his hand, smoke trailing after it. "No reason to bother her."

Silence passes with ash dropped in tray, though not internally. The conversation settles and your mind is back ablaze, with a fresh coat of guilt-paint. God, she could've been kidnapped, and you're—

"Does it bother you?" You're murmuring, eyes set on his. They are clearer in the day, shades of green shining through their blue, set above dark undereyes. "That she's in the other room?"

Understanding crosses his face immediately. You aren't sure if it's an offer, if it's a question, if it's even something you should have spoken aloud. But that strength is there, that odd and nuturing kind that you simply don't have or comprehend, and you feel better that Arthur seems to know what you mean.

"No," he whispers. His voice is gravelly. "You?"

"Yes," you reply. It's the truth.

Despite it, you move closer; so does Arthur.

His hand finds your thigh and the touch sears so strongly you might jump from your skin the moment it leaves, his palm hot, back of his hand covered in hairs bleached blond by the sun. He must be a trailblazer of some sort. Somehow, the urge to know him dies.

It's more exciting this way. How quickly you've leapt from whatever aching, heart-bursting thing that was begging him back to you and straight towards skin-shallow lust. It is hot in your gut as he kisses you, cigarette pinched between his fingers as they trace your jaw, fall to rest on your neck. He tastes so familiar despite the distance between now and then, time and miles. The parlor fades and only the bar would exist, save for the daylight that threatens your hastily shut eyelids, so you squeeze them tighter and place your nose against his throat.

She's making dinner. The sounds of it haven't stopped, idle metal clicking and the sound of fresh-lit crackling in the fireplace. The racing of your heart is enough of a reminder, the anxiety that makes your hand twitch where it clings to the coarse fabric of Arthur's flannel shirt, nails digging in and slipping against it.

You withdraw, even though you want. There are not definite words for the desire, none at all, except maybe consumption or licking him clean down to the bones.

He is everything a man ought to be and Jesus, you want a man.

In the face of him the first time, the worst parts of this new self-discovery had fled and gave way to the goodness of it. All those terrible parts simmering inside you for so long flee again now that he is here, now that his stubble has roughed your chin and his spit dries on your lips once more. You were starting to fear they'd never leave, that the rot would grow stale in you and sour for as long as you lived.

You kiss him again to lick into his mouth, haphazard, all prowess lost in the celibacy since you had sex with him. He accepts it as openly as before, shows you another thing or two. Hot breath grows too loud and you withdraw despite yourself.

What to do now lingers.

You've broken whatever remaining restraint was keeping you sat at the other end of the sofa, and his hand is feeling at the softness of your inner thigh through your jeans. If you don't decide quickly, you'll be explaining a hard-on to your wife, and that thought sobers you.

You told him it bothers you that you are not alone, so he does not question it, despite his obvious disappointment, when you slide inches back to your original seat. Not all the way, but enough that when your wife pokes her head from the kitchen and asks what the silence is about, she suspects nothing more than that stiffness she dislikes so much.

[crowleys-bentley-and-plants]

Forgive Me

I’m sorry for the words I left unsaid

For the silence that bloomed in their stead

I am the autumn leaves that promised to stay green

But turned to gold and crimson

And fell quietly to the ground

Forgive me, for I am the sea, 

Sometimes gentle, sometimes raging, 

My tides pulling you close then casting you away 

From me 

Again

And again

I am the unfinished letter, the ink smudged by hesitation

The words trembling on the edge of honesty

But never finding their way to my lips

I am the shadow that followed you

Uninvited

Lingering where I should have shone

I'm trapped in the spaces between your steps,

A silent witness to paths never taken

A reminder of moments left unexplored

I am the clock that ticked too slowly, 

Then too fast 

Robbing us of moments we thought were endless

But were really only whispers

Fading like the memories we chase and forget

I am a broken compass

Promising direction but spinning aimlessly

Lost in its own confusion

Guided by the chaos of its own design

I am the unstruck match

Brimming with unrealised potential 

A warmth that never kindled into flame

I am the poet fumbling for the right words, 

The artist with colours but no canvas, 

The singer with a song caught in their throat

So forgive me for the love I offered in fragments,

For the heart that beat in uneven rhythms,

For the touch that sometimes felt like a caress,

Other times like a ghost passing through

Forgive me for the gaps where your trust should have been,

For the space I filled with absence

For the hesitations that wove distance between us

Forgive me for the moments when I was not enough

For the way I let my uncertainties

Wipe clean the promises written in the sand

Forgive me for all I was and all I could not be

I am trying with every breath

And for that, I hope, you can find it in you to

Forgive me

Just once more

I promise this will be the final time I ask

-

im gonna be honest with you. i hate it. idk. ive been rewriting this poem for a week now and idk maybe one of the first versions was better but it's lost now. so ive decided to post this so that i wont go crazy editing the shit out of it lol

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated💙

Read also on ao3:

bonjourr @crowleys-hips @bearthewhipsandscornsoftime @fearandhatred @ghostsparrow @eybefioro @seven-stars-in-his-palm @ficreader500 @foolishlovers @sabotage-on-mercury @crowleys-curl @crowleybrekkers @goodomensafterdark @notagoodlad @lickthecowhappy @goodoldfashionednightingale @spookyllamatree @wanderer-main @ineffabildaddy @wibbly-wobbly-blog @marika-misc @captainblou @weasleywrinkles @chaoticgayomens @amagnificentobsession @thebookshoparoundthecorner @quintessentiallychemical

let me know if you want to be added or removed

[bitterbutblue]

kokomi my love

when she loved me ☆ kokomi x reader

~ the amount of sad fucking relationship reels i got last night made me sad so now im projecting fuck u isntagram reels algorithm u made me CRY AT NIGHT

inspired by twenty five twenty one, 500 days of summer, u know the drill. if u guys want a full twenty five twenty one inspired long fic (with chapters) i am also down to write one.. i will cry writing it though

song: when she loved me - lyn lapid ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

The summer she fell for you, she wishes to never think about again. Whenever a specific song comes on, she wants nothing more than to go back in time but also wants to destroy the very stereo the music is playing from. She finds herself haunted by her own movements, how they mimic yours and how she still thinks about what you would do before she does anything.

"Don't throw it-"

Laughter rang through the empty violet forests as you threw your head back, uncontrolled and raw. She found herself smiling at the sight of you, so loose and so happy. She couldn't help the laughter that began bubbling out of her own lips as she covered her mouth with her hand, doubling over. She didn't know why she's laughing so hard, she didn't know what was so funny but seeing you so unbridled filled her with giddy she hasn't felt since she was a child.

"That was ridiculous." She giggled and the way you grinned at her had her smile softening- the previous laughter dying on her lips as she feels an overwhelming wave washing over her. It felt like a lyric of a song she doesn't know the tune of, but it's a lyric she can hum from the beats of her heart. It felt like a way back to a home she has not yet entered, it felt like you. You finally composed yourself, running a hand through your hair as the beam of moonlight lit you up like an angel in the night.

"Nothing wrong with that, right?"

You walk up to her, picking up the jacket that had been laid on the ground, used as a blanket to sit on and dusted it off. You wrapped it around Kokomi, buttoning it up snuggly for her as she fit her arms through the oversized sleeves of your jacket, the warmth from the jacket and heart causing her to overheat from an overwhelming feeling.

She has that moment in a picture frame in her heart, like a photo album that had been abandoned and recently found, still dusty but holds a fortune of memories that warm you up. Except this photo album was cold, desolate. Found in a junkyard, memories of strangers and who they once were.

"Nothing wrong with that."

It's a sickening feeling in her gut, churning and spinning and she orders for Gorou to turn off the damn stereo as quickly as possible. He just obliges, not saying anything. She throws down her quill, shaking away whatever memories she has of you. Her eyes dart over her desk, with papers once organised but now strewn all over the place, a lingering memory of the evening you tidied her desk for her hits her hard and fast before suddenly fading into what it was- the past.

"You can't live like this."

A soft voice echoed through the chambers of her desk- she looked up, bleary eyed and you just sigh. You walked up to her, wrapping your arms around her from behind her chair as she leaned into your touch, visibly exhausted. Her shoulders sagged downward, her head resting against your chest as she let out a breath she didn't realise she was holding in.

"I'm doing just fine."

"Really?"

You nestled your head on top of hers as you took one of her hands into your own, interlacing your fingers together.

"It's late. Let's go home?"

''I can't." She mumbles, eyes closing as exhaustion finally settles in between her bones, filling themselves in every crevice and every little nook and cranny of her body.

"Yes you can, darling." You whispered, squeezing her hand softly "They can't have their leader collapsing on them from exhaustion, can they now?"

Like a siren's song, she found herself drawn to your voice. She couldn't even stop herself from nodding as she moved subconsciously, her body just following the sound of your voice as you led her out of her office.

The next morning, she found her office tidied. Her papers organised into a neat stack with sticky notes labelling which papers are which. She picked up the note on her desk and she felt herself grinning ear to ear as she readthe contents on the paper.

Good morning, my love! I organised your desk for you, hope that's okay. If you need anything just text me, love youuu <3

Her desk has been a mess since that day. She had no energy in her to organise her notes or to sort her files. She finds it too difficult to do now, her lack of energy every day being too much. Getting out of bed is hard enough, and she's really not in the mood to have to clean everything when she function with it being a mess just fine (albeit a little harder to get through).

She hasn't had the time or energy to go home, to take the walk down the desolate and empty streets just scares her now with the build up of what has happened. She finds herself taking another way, a route where she won't have to relive the worst of it all.

"Why?"

The broken expression on your face had her swallowing in guilt.

"I'm sorry."

"You say that every time-"

You turned away, taking a shaky breath in as you tried to calm yourself down and Kokomi just stands there like a coward.

"This is exhausting, Kokomi."

She looked down, fidgeting with her fingers as she drops her work bag onto a chair, unsure if she should approach you or not.

She should've approached you that night.

You instead turned around angrily, facing her again and the pained look in your eyes had her looking away now because it ate her alive, knowing that she caused you this much pain.

"Couldn't you just let me know earlier? You keep disappearing on me, I keep worrying about if you died out there or not-"

"I will-"

"You said that last time."

She looked down.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that."

She found herself not going to bed that night, sitting at the kitchen table as she listened to your muffled sobs through the door.

When Gorou tells her it's late, she just nods. The last thing she needs is to lie in an empty bed and feel the coldness of the night wrap its arms around her as an attempt to comfort her or to soothe the once-sharp pain, now faded into a dull thud with each thump of the heart. When she sleeps, she tucks her head into her arms, the hard wood digging into her elbows but the minorly uncomfortable pain is better than having to be overly consumed with her thoughts in the comforts of a bed.

She wakes up to a cup of tea in front of her and for a minute her heart leaps until she's hit with reality once more. She sees Gorou's handwriting and just wishes it was yours for a split second.

Kokomi, take care.

She screwed her eyes shut as she took a deep breath in, refusing to let you see the tears behind her eyes. You just stood opposite her, looking down at your shoes as tears fell down from your face and onto the ground.

"Was this my doing?"

The silence was broken by her shaky question as she finally brings herself to look up at you and she can feel her chest caving in again at the sight of you.

"It's not your fault."

Your voice was strained, as if you were using every atom in your body to try to make yourself sound as put together as possible.

"We've just grown so apart with all that's happened."

She has to stop herself from shaking, the entire world seems to be trembling until she realised it was just her.

"I don't want to say who's right or wrong. There isn't a right or wrong."

The evening chill that once held memories of cuddling under the stars is now just a sharp pierce through her skin, a blade running itself through each crevice of her beating and bleeding heart.

"We're making things difficult by blaming each other."

She bit down on her lower lip, trying to hold in the sob.

"You and I, we still care a lot for each other."

The words in her chest build up like word vomit.

"Did we have to come to this?" She whispered

"We were already coming to this."

She gasped when she felt a tug on her jacket, looking to see you buttoning up her jacket once more- your eyes filled with unshed tears as your trembling hands slowly slid each button through slit. A shaky gasp is let out as you tried not to sob, but it comes out choked as a tear falls and she couldn't stop herself. The shatter of her heart rang through the night as she feels the tear fall down her face, hot- burning a mark on her skin. She bit down on her lower lip once more, trying to stifle the sob but it still comes out and hearing your silent cries only made it harder for her to hold it in.

The dam breaks fully when she feels you pull her into a tight hug, and she knows this is the last time she'll feel your arms around hers like this so she holds on tight. The dam breaks and she sobs, loud and messy. The way you trembled had her feeling like she was going to shatter any minute. She held you as close as she could, arms tightening around your waist and hoping that maybe for the last time you two could just become one again.

"Let's not put ourselves through this again." You said softly, and she could feel your tears seep through her jacket- the jacket you buttoned for the last time.

She could only nod as she lets out a loud sob for the last time, and maybe the last thing you remember of her is the way she cries.

"Goodbye, Kokomi."

[littlemissthunderstorms]

dance as if somebody’s watching, cause they are. (pt.2)

alex turner x reader

mostly fluff! i feel like this is soo disappointing compared to the first part. 😭 i meant for something cooler to happen but i quite literally lost my train of thought and couldn’t come up with anything!! im sorry 😣

———

your head swirled as your eyes peeled open, squinting at the daylight cutting through the curtains like knifes.

head pounding and vision blurry, you slowly looked around the room, a bit confused. the room was spacious, books and plaques on shelves, sleek modern 70’s chairs in the corner, and maroon throw pillows scattered by the end of the bed.

your sight cleared a bit as you rubbed your eyes, gaze redirecting to the nightstand on the other side of the bed, where atop a journal sat a name tag reading ALEXANDER, HEAD DIRECTOR.

of course. you were in alex’s room. you thought hard, trying to recall a string of events from the previous night that would cause you to end up here. your memory was cloudy. you remembered getting ready, talking to a few friends but your memory stuttered, the film reel in your mind missing pieces and frames.

you remembered sitting at the bar, was someone there? a guy, you thought. puzzle pieces clicked together. the blonde guy. you couldn’t remember what kind of exchange you’d had, but you remembered dancing with alex later on.

you ran a hand through your messy hair. ok. you were dancing with alex. not for long though. then what? didn’t you leave? that’s when the film reel stopped, leaving your memory hazy and faded.

your attention quickly redirected to the door when you heard the sound of a keycard beeping on the other side. the door opened, gentle brown eyes meeting yours as alex stepped through. his hair was fluffier today, far different from his usual slicked back look. alex tucked the sleeves up on his navy button down as he made his way over to you, heeled boots clacking on the floor.

“oh thank goodness. you’re awake. how are you feeling?” he gently brushed a loose strand of hair out of your eyes. you gazed up at him, brows furrowed. “i-i don’t know. i don’t know what happened.” you panicked, the idea of you not having control over your memories of the night before making you anxious.

alex nodded and stroked your hair softly in attempts to soothe you. “there was a guy at the bar that slipped something into your drink.” the boy sighed. “i’m so sorry. i know you probably can’t remember much but when i was walking you to go back to your room, you passed out. i’m so sorry. are you feeling any better?”

“i don’t know. i feel dizzy and my head hurts.” you frowned, lip quivering softly. alex nodded, grabbing the ibuprofen from his nightstand as well as a cup of water. “here, take this hon, it’ll help.” he smiled sweetly at you, eyes tinted with sorrow.

you quickly took the ibuprofen and put the water down, breath shaky as tears started pouring down your cheeks. you still felt all shaken from what had happened, your anxiety at a peak. alex squeezed your hand and sat on the bed next to you, pulling you into a tight hug that soothed your mind a bit and made your heart melt. “oh honey, i know i’m so sorry.” he whispered. your anxiety simmered down a bit as he held you, still softly running his fingers through your hair.

alex could feel your heart beating fast against his chest and his own heart broke for you. he was mad at himself that he hadn’t stopped the situation from unfolding, even though it wasn’t his fault. he’d had a bad feeling about the man from the start, dismissing his gut feeling as twinges of jealousy that he’d previously denied.

“you’re okay now. i promise you alright? i’m here with you. security got the guy there’s nothing you need to worry about. wasn’t gonna let him lay a finger on you.” alex whispered. you sighed, nodding as a tear rolled down your cheek and onto alex’s shirt.

alex pulled away slightly, eyes pooling with adoration and twinkling with the same capacity of the stars you’d spot in the sky at night. you clung to the boy, your love for him trickling down your cheeks. you took a deep breath. alex softly wiped your tears with his thumbs, heart fluttering as he bit his lip.

he cupped your face with both of his hands, his face etched with care and concern. “again, i’m so so sorry. i’m so mad at myself for not stopping him earlier, i wish i would’ve known. i love you so much, you don’t deserve this. i’ll take such good care of you i promise-“ the boy paused, face twisting in confusion. “why are you smiling?”

you grinned, eyes sparkling. “you love me?”

alex’s eyes lit up, not realizing he’d let it slip. your heart pounded, knowing the answer from his eyes alone before he’d even said anything else. “of course i love you!” he grinned, heart swelling with joy. he was about to say something else when you cut him off, pressing your lips to his in a passionate kiss.

he eagerly kissed you back, returning his hand to tangle in your hair and hold you closer as his other hand rested on your waist. his lips were warm as he kissed you tenderly. he gently broke the kiss to press soft kisses on the corners of your lips and up your cheek, gently kissing your eyelids.

you sighed, eyes fluttering shut. you felt your anxieties and worries start to fizzle away as he kissed you with such love and care, knowing you’d be okay. he pulled away slowly, looking into your eyes as he cupped your face. you smiled up at the boy with twinkly eyes.

“for the record i love you too. lots”

———

hope u liked!! sorry this is so short #queenofshortalexficstbh

in the beginning it was supposed to be more horror based because i always imagined tbhc to have a unsettling vibe to it but i couldn’t come up with any ideas 😣

[blinkycravesviolence]

cringetober day 16!! i know i just posted mesmerizer lost media yesterday but i've been planning this for a good bit lol

0 Notes

☢️ radithorisms Follow

so 2024's the year of lostwave right? so many songs have been found this year alone n shit. and with stacy being found i feel like i should be open about something.

okay so like. there's this one song i listened to in 2010 that i feel like was intensely formative to my teenage years. and i can't find it. TRUST ME i tried but it's just not there. it's like it never existed. and it sucks cause despite the contents of the song, it comforted me through the darkest moments of my life. and jt always found me. so why can't i find it.

oh right i need to give you guys info on the song, right?

so i don't really remember much about the lyrics, mainly cause it (the song's named mesmerizer btw) wasn't translated when i saw it BUT i remember the music video.

so the music video is about miku and teto (did i mention they sang the song??? im sorry this is so disorganized lol) in this like. kids show environment?? they're dancing n shit in Mysterious Plains it's weird. anyways the ENTIRE TIME teto's been making signs for help, from ASL to morse code. yeah that's meant to imply they are kidnapped. so there's this segment where they get like. hypnotized??? miku's eyes fade to black and teto's ALMOST do but then they cut away. then everything SEEMS normal but miku's limbs start being funny and it's probably a sign of the hypnosis or something and teto's freaking out a bit and then... i.... i forgot the final fucking chorus it's so over.

oh and they wore these costumes - i drew em from memory

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 yurisoldierno39 Follow

miranda my beloved mutual miranda. where the fuck is neru

☢️ radithorisms Follow

you say that as a bit but people did joke about neru being in the song. it got unfunny fast though

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 yurisoldierno39 Follow

oh damn. i don't think i know what ur talking abt though. sad!

🔔 the-bellssss Follow

hey wait wasn't mesmerizer that one song that made a guy careen off a cliff cause he listened to it and it fogged his brain up so bad he didn't pay attention to the road?

☢️ radithorisms Follow

what

#no that cant be it helped me it helped me it helped me it

16 Notes

☢️ radithorisms Follow

update on the mesmerizer situation

so i've been heeding some of your advice, i've been looking on niconico and i found a clip!!! lets gooo

i feel like it's finally coming around now. it's coming back to me. it's warm embrace hugging me. it's gonna be alright. i think.

#mesmerizer #lostwave #lost media #i cant help but feel like it's egging me on tho

2 Notes

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 yurisoldierno39 Follow

man i love miranda n all but she's been talking about nothing but that mesmerizer song ever since she found that clip.

#it's so hard to talk to her man #like i get it the song is important to you but #i feel like you care more about it than me :/

0 Notes

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 yurisoldierno39 Follow

☢️ radithorisms asked:

i saw your post, tammy. it's sad you think of it like that. you'll see the light soon though, my love.

im sure of it

YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN??

#wait. #''love''? 😳

4 Notes

🔔 the-bellssss Follow

the fuck is going on with my mutuals man

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 yurisoldierno39 Follow

miranda sent me a cryptic ask where she called me love

🔔 the-bellssss Follow

good 4 u??? love wins i guess

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 yurisoldierno39 Follow

love wins

🔔 the-bellssss Follow

love wins

☢️ radithorisms Follow

love wins

100 Notes

☢️ radithorisms Follow

i found it i found it ifounditifound it i found it idounfitifounditiFOUNDITIFUONDITIFOHNDITOUFODUNITJFOUNDITIFOUNITIFOUNDITIFKJNFIFOUNFITIFKUNGIT

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 yurisoldierno39 Follow

are you ok?? answer my text

🔔 the-bellssss Follow

tammy and miranda have both been awfully silent...

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 yurisoldierno39 Follow

hey nell!! i just came back from talking to miranda. positive she's just doing a bit.

🔔 the-bellssss Follow

oh shit hey tammy

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 yurisoldierno39 Follow

can you watch this for me? thx

🔔 the-bellssss Follow

okay...?

202 Notes

☢️ radithorisms Follow

i remember the final chorus now.

mid-lyric, something snaps within miku. her eyes go into a pitch black, her mouth eternally agape, a tongue sticking out, and she's stuck doing the same jerky movements. she's mesmerized, whatever was left in her gone forever. teto's horrified, grieving even, miku might as well be dead after all. but i never cared about what was happening on the sides of the screen. i was transfixed by what was on the center. the infamous 13-sided star literally EVERYWHERE in the music video unveiled itself to be a spiral. and i couldn't keep my eyes off it. the overstimulation of the song all melting together, telling me to let go, give in, fall into the rhythm, the beat, the instruments, the vocals.... i guess all those replays must have conditioned me.

it's all ok now though.

everything will be.

i just need to let her see.

i found the video after all. what's love for if you keep them away from the light? i'll see you soon, tammy. <3

[fakesimp]

CONGRATS ON 1K 🙉🙉 im here to haunt you again, ur works never fail to amaze me and i always find myself going back to read them (≡^∇^≡)

luca knshr pls 🙏 angst to fluff? whtver is fine w u, i will wait ˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙

-"I promised I won't let you go, but I did, will you give me one more chance to hold you again?", Falling for you would be the last time I fall in Love-

again, congrats on 1k, may u gain more followers, may the shurnip bless you, amen, mwah

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

Chances, With Luca Kaneshiro

Warning !

Hurt/Comfort ; Established Relationship

A/n !

Sankyuuu ! I hope you enjoy this !

1k Followers Event Prompts !

"I promise I won't let you go, but I did. will you give me one more chance to hold you again?"

Falling for you would be the last time I fall in Love

➶◜◝➴

"I promise I'll never let you go"

"I Love you babe, so much"

He said, but what happened to that now? Didn't he promise he won't let you go, he promised.

You watched him turning his back towards you, walking away as you stood on the spot, shedding tears. Your hand turned into fist, you turned away and walked away from where you stood, accepting reality.

He is a Mafia after all, he is busy, and his work involves killing, blood bath. Something that is very dangerous for someone like you to be around him, but you loved him for the way he is.

You loved the way he smiled so widely at you, the way his eyes sparkled when he sees you. The way he picked you up with his strong arms as he swings around while holding you in his arms, laughing together with you.

Painful.

It hurts so bad when you remember the memories you made together with him, only for it to shatter when he said he wanted to break up, you couldn't bring yourself to ask why, you couldn't bring yourself to ask him the reason why he wanted to break up with you when everything was okay.

You could only walk away as you try to relieve the pain.

. . .

that was months ago, and today here you are, doing your daily activities in your apartment, you looked over at the clock, it is 12 am. You sighed, how fast the time moves as you started to live on your own. You were just about to turn off your laptop until you heard a knock on your door, you started to get suspicious about it. Who the hell would come over at your apartment at 12 am?

You hesitantly approached the door, you didn't open it. You just peeked through the peek hole on your door, only for you to see a familiar blonde haired male behind the door.

Your eyes widen, you wanted to open the door but you're growing hesitant the longer you stayed behind the door, your hand slowly reaching out to the door handle but you immediately froze when you heard his voice.

"I know you're there," He said, but he sounded so, tired? You decided to stay quiet, staring down at the door handle. "It's okay if you don't want to open the door, i'll just, talk behind the door." He took a deep breath, you heard a shoe click closer to the door.

You were guessing he's now literally closer than before, "..I'm sorry" the first thing he said, making your breath hitched slightly when you heard how hurt he sounded, "I, ..promised I won't let you go.." he continued, you slowly rest your head on the door, "But I did.." you can hear him stutter out a sigh. "If I may be foolish," there was a long pause, making your heart beats faster each seconds pass

You waited for him to continue, "..If I may.. Will you, give me one more chance.. to, hold you again?" He said. You waited, again, but he didn't say anything else. You then heard a shoe click again, "..Ah, I, shouldn't have been that hopeful huh.." He whispered, "I'm sorry.." he apologized then, the next second you heard his shoes clicking away from your door, fading away, slowly disappearing.

You wanted to run, your guts telling you to run to him. When he' still close, and you did, you abruptly opened your apartment door, you ran out barefoot. Chasing your Beloved Mafia. Beloved Golden retriever.

You ran as fast as you could, you didn't care about your foot hurting by this point. You just have to catch up to him before it's too late, and you almost lost him again. You saw him entering the car,

"LUCA!"

The way he immediately whips his head around to you, You couldn't miss how hurt he looked a second ago, his eyes sparkled ever so slightly when he sees you. You stopped running, catching your breath.

But before you could register anything, you heard footsteps coming towards you so fast, and the next second you are engulfed into someone's arms, and who else would it be none other than Luca himself.

Familiar warmth, you reciprocated his hug, tight. You can feel his body slightly trembled as he hugged you, "I'm sorry.." He whispered as he nuzzle his face at the crook of your neck. "Will you forgive me?" You immediately nod your head as you put your hand on his head, running your hand through his blonde hair locks.

"Yes, Luca. I forgive you, I'm sorry too" You apologized, he slowly leaned away from you, putting his hand on your cheek, he stared into your eyes lovingly, him trying so hard not to cry on the spot, he leaned his face close to you, before he kissed you, he whispered,

"Falling for you, would be the last time I fall in Love, My heart belongs to you, and to you only.

I Love you, so much.."

©fakesimp . 2023

A/n !

There we go ! Another one down ! Hope you enjoy this !

( 4/10 )

[dollya-robinprotector]

dollyaaaaa ur art is so nice n clean always!! im wondering how u draw so quickly n consistently? bow much time does it take for u to draw stuff ö i love seeing ur art pop up on the tl always, its so inspiring!! have a great rest of ur day >:333

Not gonna lie, I usually avoid the ask related to my drawing time or process. I cannot count how many asks I have received on this same matter, but...

Well, I should clarify one thing: I am not uncomfortable answering these ask. I answer some if I can. I just don't know how to answer most of them. English isn't my first language so even if I want to write a tutorial it's just gonna be... "messy" I think? Also, I have this love-hate feeling when it comes to drawing fast.

As you can see I draw almost daily. To answer asks, to present my own ideas,... there are two reasons for my fast-drawing skill:

I think way too much. My trains of thought often crash onto each other and my brain is just purely chaotic, to the point I'm overloaded and stop thinking. That's not good. So before things get complicated or fade to nothingness I would draw them out. it's how I preserve my ideas, keep my sanity intact, and not shut down from thinking.

It's my practice. I grew up knowing practice makes perfect, so I kinda draw to train my muscle memory. A kind of habit as an artist. I remember coming across an interview with BL artist Hotoku and I saw their comment on how to get through a "slump":

and it was at that moment I realized there's nothing more important than to draw when you are an artist. A "slump" (or artblock, etc...) is a disaster for all art creators, so I choose to prevent and get out of it simply by drawing more.

I remember I doubted Hotoku's answer for some time, but now I understand them perfectly. I, too, love and think about drawing all the time, almost that I don't want to do anything else besides drawing. It's complicated to describe, but I think I gaslighted myself successfully into a drawing maniac.

After all, all that I'm capable of is drawing. If it's not for my artworks, I'd be nothing. I can not satisfy my parents, my coworkers, my senpais, or even myself, so at least seeing some strangers on the internet appreciate my drawing warms me up inside I think, ehe~

As for how long it takes me to draw, it depends. Some simple sketches to answer asks took from a few minutes to maybe some good hours. The asks keep coming and I'm delighted to it, but the most I can do is answer 5 - 6 of them a day, usually, I could only do 3 - 4 or least, so I have to admit and apologize because I can not answer everything sent to my ask box. I do the most I can. The asks are a huge part of my creative inspiration and mental comfort, so I always give them my best. Thanks for sending me these asks everyone~

I called off my work today and shut down all the notifications from my boss, so maybe I'll rest more. But I would get back to draw as soon as I can.