#thank you everyone for the commissions a while back the first thing i got was this new program that'll let me make these haha

[blastiebabe]

Hiiii I saw you were open for requests and I liked your writing! if you do Bakugo x reader, can you write Bakugo being with a reader that's very soft? Like, they're kind of quiet, level-headed, mostly unphased by his outbursts, is really kind, etc? <3

stupid paperworks taking you away from me

Bakugo Katsuki x Reader hi anon! thank u for submitting and appreciating my works. here is my take on your request, i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it :>>

You are currently sitting on your home office with a lot of paperwork in front of you. Your husband Pro Hero Dynamight's agency has been having a lot of missions lately and it your job to proofread every one of the finished mission papers before sending it to the Hero Public Safety Commission.

The past week has been busy for you and your husband, Katsuki. You see each other every day yet have little time to really spend time together. Still, your husband always makes sure that you are always beside him when he sleeps at night.

Even before your marriage, Katsuki has always been grumpy and easily annoyed about things when he is not having enough rest, and this day might just be one of the days where his bad temper and attitude comes out.

While doing paperworks at your home office, you hear Katsuki coming home. "Love, where are you?"

"In here." You say loud enough for him to hear you through the door. Katsuki comes in wearing collar and tie. The man just got back from the press interview about a villain he apprehended last night.

It was the middle of the day but the both of you are at home, he knew he will be coming home after the interview so yesterday he announced to everyone in his agency that you will be working from home so the two of you can spend the time together, and anyone who disagree with that plan should go straight to hell.

He heads straight at you, lowered himself while waiting for you to look at him and give him his most deserved kiss. "A minute, love." You say as you finish a page of what you were reading.

"Ugh." He grumbled but still not moving from his position as he wait. After reading the current page, you turn it over the next page, place it over your desk and face you husband giving him the kiss he was waiting for.

"You did a great job today as well, my love." You say after the kiss while cupping his cheek.

Katsuki crouched to be able to face you. "Yeah?"

"Mm hmm. You really did; I am so proud of you." You kiss his forehead as you feel a smile forming in his lips.

"That might just be the rest I needed." He says.

You shake your head, "Nah, you need a proper rest. Go clean yourself up and change your clothes."

Katsuki stands straight. "You comin' after me?"

"I'd finish this first then all my time for the rest of the day is yours."

"But—" Katsuki was about to make another deal.

"Go, clean yourself up first." You say sweetly as you stroke the back of his arm softly.

Katsuki glared at you before moving out of the office, muttering words under his breath. You smile about this reaction of his, the Pro Hero sometimes might just be acting like rebellious teenager. You continue your work.

___________

It's already 3 pm, an hour after your husband came home. Just a few papers left, and you'll be done with work. Without raising your head, you feel Katsuki inside the home office, he goes straight to your table, placing a cup of hot coffee above your table and then proceed to sit at the couch. He is currently wearing a plaid pajama and a white shirt.

Katsuki makes himself comfortable on the couch while staring at you. "Thank you." You say without batting an eye on him.

"You're not even looking at me?" Katsuki says obviously offended.

You chuckle. "I just need to finish these so we can spend time together without any problems. Besides, these are for your agency, Pro Hero."

You look at him, smiling. "Thank you, my love."

"Tch, damn paperwork taking you away from me. Am I not worth your attention or what?" He asks.

"Ugh! I feel like you hate me or somethin'." He grumbled again as he is not succeeding on getting your full attention. He goes out of the office stomping his feet.

"Love you!" You shout as he leaves. He did not reply back even though you are sure he heard it. Katsuki is that petty, but you know he is not being unreasonable. He has all the right to demand time and attention from you after a hell of a week working his ass off saving people.

And of course, you want to spend time with him as much he wants to spend time with you. So, the sooner you finish your work, the sooner he can have your full attention. Again, you continue your work.

__________

Finally done with your last paperwork, you head to the kitchen where Katsuki is. You see him wearing his pink apron. His body stiffened as he feels your hands wrapping his waist and your body resting on his back.

"What, you have time for me now?" Katsuki tells you with a sass. Your grip on him tightens as you feel your body recharge holding the man before you.

"Stupid paperworks making you all worked up and tired." Katsuki continues his rants. "Stupid people at the agency giving you that much work when they know you and I are spending today together."

You release your hold of Katsuki as you feel a thirst for water. You head in front of the refrigerator and grab a pitcher of water. Katsuki is almost done with the mapo tofu that he is cooking; he started setting up the table.

You see his eyebrows still meeting and his face still unpleased. "Love..." You call him softly as you grab a glass and drink water.

"What?" He didn't even look at you and continued his outburst. "Stupid employees, tomorrow I'm gonna start firing some incompetent assholes."

You know he will not. You let him say the things he wants to say, you knew he needed to do that whenever he feels strong emotions. Because if he doesn't, he's going to keep it all up alone again and let it bottled inside him, you do not want that happening again.

Years of being in this marriage has made you understand and perfect the way to handle Katsuki's sudden outbursts. He is a man who gets easily worked up and misunderstood by people but at the same time, you know that all these anger inside him roots from his care and compassion for the people he cares about.

Just like in high school when he challenged Izuku on Ground Beta, his anger came from his care and guilt as he blames himself from what happened to All Might. Katsuki is a good man, there is no doubt about that. There are just days when you need to let him feel the negatives, and your job as a wife is to listen and help him remember the positives which has never bothered you anyway.

You sit on your side of the table as he assembles your early dinner. "Love..." You call him again softly. You know he can hear you.

"Katsuki..." You try again, as to get his attention and calm down for a second. You are actually feeling tired from all the paperwork you have been through and just want to spend the day resting with him.

Katsuki looks straight at you and kneels at the side of the dining chair where you were seating. "Shit, Princess, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I'm sorry." He apologizes completely regretting the words that came out of his mouth.

"Kats-"

"Just shut the fuck up and eat!" Katsuki shouts as he bring a plate in front of you. You are shocked by the tone he used on you. "Shit." He cursed as he was also shocked by himself and what he just told you.

"I... I promise I didn't mean to. I was just- I was- I don't- ugh-" Katsuki stutters through his words obviously overwhelmed by guilt for shouting at you. He runs his hands on his head as he tugs his hair.

You reach for his hands, removed it from his tight hold on his hair, and brings him closer to you as his head rests on your chest, you wrap your hands behind his nape. "Shh, it's okay. I understand, you were frustrated."

He shakes his head in your arms. "No, no, no. Shouting at you is never okay. I'm really sorry, love. I'm sorry." He breaks free from your arms, stands up, grabs a chair and moves it as close as it can be to you.

Katsuki looks at you straight in the eyes. "Princess, never let me speak like that to you ever again." He said, cupping your left cheek with his right hand. "If I ever speak like that to you ever again, you have all the right to smack the shit out of me, okay?"

Suddenly you feel all the sleepless nights and overwork you have done the past week, you let your head fall in Katsuki's shoulder as he catches you in his arms, wrapping his hands at the small of your back.

You nod as you see the genuine concern and love from your husband's eyes.

"You do not deserve to be talked to like that. I'm sorry my princess, I promise I'll be better and make sure that will never happen again."

"You have done a great job this week, my love. I am so proud of you." Katsuki says as one of his hands caress your hair. You feel vulnerable under his touch as he sings compliments into your ear. "You're so capable. You have been working really hard; you deserve rest my love."

Katsuki closes the space in between as his lips met yours. Expressing his apologies, appreciation, and love for you.

You bring your head up, drawing a space between the two of you, enough to look at him in the eyes. "I love you, Katsuki."

Katsuki smiles as your lips parted. When you opened your eyes, he was already looking at you, his ears and face red. "What a beautiful wife I have. With a kind and patient heart. Just what did I do to deserve you?" Katsuki asks.

"I've talked to the Commission and asked them to have tomorrow as your day off, they agreed. I also filed for a leave. So tomorrow, my hero, you are all mine."

You see the clear shift of shock to a breath of relief in your husband's face. He needed that, you needed that. After all, your rest can only be found in each other's arms. Katsuki is a good man; he has always been, and he always will be. And to be a wife of a great man like Bakugo Katsuki, aren't you lucky?

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ thank u for reading! :>> . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ more of katsuki, here! ♡

[typenull]

more bw style sprite animation practice with critter

[fifty555]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ poetry? no, pottery!

a lil’ love between you and little lando norris 💞 with a twist as you’re a ceramist/potterer!

content warning; none! just enjoy the fluffs! ah, there’s a bit of explicit language (i think?), but nothing drastic! enjoy 😽!

summary; childhood friends reconnect after years apart—he’s a formula 1 driver, and you’re a ceramist.

hey, lover! part two here!

Lando Norris was used to his friends teasing him. Whether it was his golfing misadventures, his love for Twitch streams, or his occasional emotional outbursts on team radio, there was always something to make him the subject of banter on and off the grid. But the one thing they had yet to figure out—something that he was genuinely proud of—was the pottery.

It started innocuously enough. A vase here, a decorative bowl there. The other drivers had assumed Lando had simply developed a newfound taste for ceramic art after moving to Monaco. Carlos had even joked once, “You’re just trying to look posh, mate.”

But no one had noticed the small etchings at the back of each piece: a simple ‘Lan’ with a heart. Subtle, personal, and not exactly the kind of thing you’d put on items for sale. That mystery had lingered until one fateful evening when everything unravelled in the most chaotic way imaginable.

It was post-race at Silverstone, and the whole grid had gathered for dinner at a private venue. Spirits were high after a spectacular British Grand Prix, with plenty of laughs and, naturally, plenty of friendly ribbing.

Lando sat beside Oscar, carefully monitoring his phone, knowing full well that at any moment you might call. You were in your apartment in Mexico, finalising details for an art exhibit while simultaneously working on personal pottery commissions. Lando adored how dedicated you were to your craft, even if it often left you so absorbed that you forgot things—like where you’d placed your keys, or, as he was about to find out, something a little more important.

Amid the loud chatter, Lando’s phone buzzed, and your name flashed on the screen. Without thinking, he swiped to answer. “Hey, love,” he greeted, but before he could say anything else, your panicked voice filled the room.

“Lan, I lost my ring! I don’t know where it is!”

Shoot, he forgot about the speaker.

The room fell eerily silent as the unmistakable sound of your frantic cries echoed from the speaker.

Lando froze. His brain short-circuited as he realised his phone was still on speaker. Every single driver at the table—except for Oscar, Alex, and George—was staring at him like he’d just confessed to murder.

“Oh, for fu—” Lando scrambled to turn off the speaker, but not before you continued, “Baby, I don’t know where it is! I can’t even—”

He interrupted, voice strained with embarrassment. “Have you checked the wet clays? That’s usually where you’d lose it.”

The line went quiet for a second as the realisation hit you. “Shit. I’ll go check. Thanks, love. Enjoy your dinner with the boys, bye!” You ended the call abruptly, leaving Lando to deal with the aftermath.

“What the hell was that?” Daniel was the first to break the silence, leaning forward with a grin that practically screamed mischief.

“No, who the fuck was that?” Max followed, his bluntness cutting through the rising chaos like a hot knife through butter.

The room erupted in questions. Pierre was halfway across the table, trying to pry answers from Lando, while Charles was practically yelling over everyone else. Meanwhile, Carlos gave Lando a pointed look. “Mate, don’t tell me you’ve got a secret girlfriend and you’ve been hiding it from me?”

Lando’s cheeks burned as he fumbled to explain. “Look, it’s not a big deal—”

“Not a big deal?!” Charles’ voice reached a pitch that only dogs could hear. “You’ve been holding out on us! Who is she?”

Amidst the chaos, Alex calmly took a sip of his drink and glanced at Charles. “You’ve met her before.”

“I have?” Charles frowned, genuinely confused.

George pulled out his phone, scrolled through his photos, and handed it over. “Here, this’ll jog your memory.”

The photo showed George, Alex, and you at a karting event years ago, laughing over slices of pizza. You were unmistakable, even with the short haircut and boyish charm you used to sport.

And the fact that you used to terrorise Charles on the grid.

Charles’ eyes widened. “You’re telling me that demon is Lando’s—”

“Fiancée,” Lando corrected with a smug grin, cutting him off. “She’s my fiancée.”

If the table had been chaotic before, it was nothing compared to the uproar that followed.

“Fiancée?!” Charles looked moments away from fainting. Pierre had to physically restrain him from climbing over the table.

Max, ever the straight shooter, raised a brow. “How long has this been going on?”

“Since October 2020,” Lando admitted, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms defensively.

“You kept this a secret for three years?” Daniel looked simultaneously impressed and horrified. “And all we got were vases?”

“Wait,” Carlos interjected, pointing a finger at Lando. “The pottery—don’t tell me that’s her doing?”

Lando smirked, finally finding his footing in the conversation. “Actually, most of it’s hers. But I helped with a few pieces.”

“Explains the hearts,” Pierre muttered, earning a round of laughter.

Meanwhile, back in your studio, you’d found the missing engagement ring embedded in a chunk of wet clay. You snapped a quick photo of your clay-covered hands, the ring perched delicately on your finger, and sent it to Lando with the message: Found it. Your forgetfulness is rubbing off on me.

Lando responded with a selfie of his own, a defeated look on his face, and the message: The cat’s out of the bag.

You could only laugh, imagining the absolute carnage he was dealing with at dinner.

Now, the question is, how did you guys meet?

Well, let’s take a trip down memory lane, yes?

It started at a karting track in Guildford when they were both nine years old. Lando was already making waves on the circuit, a scrappy kid with untamed curls and an infectious grin. You, on the other hand, were a quiet but fiercely competitive racer, constantly being told you’d never make it because you were a girl.

That day, your paths crossed in the most cliché yet heartwarming way. You’d crashed during qualifying and sat on the sidelines, fuming as you inspected the damaged kart. Lando, fresh off his own session, wandered over with a bag of gummy bears and an awkward grin.

“Want one?” he asked, holding the bag out to you.

You glanced up, unimpressed. “Unless it fixes my kart, no thanks.”

“It doesn’t,” he admitted, plopping one into his mouth, “but they’re good for sulking.”

Reluctantly, you took one. That was all it took. From that day forward, you became friends—rivals on the track, co-conspirators off it. The karting world was small, and you often found yourselves travelling the same circuits, sharing snacks, and occasionally teaming up to prank the other kids.

But all good things come to an end, and for Lando, the end came when you abruptly quit karting at twelve. One day you were there, racing alongside him, and the next, you were gone. No explanations, no goodbyes—just a void where his fiercest rival and closest friend had been.

Years passed. Lando threw himself into racing, climbing the ranks to Formula 1, but he never stopped wondering what had happened to you. He’d hear whispers—something about pottery, about you exchanging one love for another—but nothing concrete.

Then, in 2020, he walked into a pop-up art gallery in London and froze. There, amidst a sea of ceramic sculptures, was a name he hadn’t seen in years: yours. And standing by a display of hand-thrown vases, chatting animatedly with a small group of people, was you.

Lando hesitated, heart pounding as he watched you laugh, looking so effortlessly radiant it hurt. He was a world-famous F1 driver now, but at that moment, he felt like the same awkward boy offering gummy bears to his angry rival.

Finally, he worked up the courage to approach you. “Hey,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Nice vases.”

You turned, your eyes widening in surprise. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, as if no time had passed at all, you grinned. “Nice curls.”

The conversation flowed as easily as it always had. Over coffee the next day, you explained why you’d quit karting. Your parents had pulled you out, worried about the pressure and the toxic environment you were facing as a girl in a male-dominated sport. You’d turned to pottery as an outlet and never looked back.

“I missed it, though,” you admitted, stirring your latte. “I missed racing. I missed… you.”

Lando’s heart clenched. “I missed you too.”

The transition from friendship to romance was seamless, almost inevitable. But given Lando’s high-profile career, you both agreed to keep the relationship private. It wasn’t easy. There were stolen weekends in Monaco, secret visits to your studio in between London and Mexico, and countless moments when you had to play it cool in public, even as your heart raced every time you saw him.

The secrecy was worth it, though. For three years, you built a world of your own, filled with laughter, late-night phone calls, and the kind of love that felt steady and enduring.

The proposal came during a quiet evening at your studio. You’d been working on a commission, hands covered in clay, when Lando appeared in the doorway, looking unusually nervous.

“What’s up?” you asked, wiping your hands on a rag.

He hesitated, then held out a small, unassuming box. “I, uh, thought we could make this official.”

You stared at him, heart pounding. “Lando Norris, are you asking me to marry you in the middle of my studio while I’m covered in clay?”

He grinned, the familiar boyish charm shining through. “Well, I figured it’s where you’re happiest.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Laughing, you took the box, opened it, and saw the ring—simple, elegant, and unmistakably you. Tears filled your eyes as you nodded. “Yes.”

For a while, life went on as usual. You returned to your pottery, Lando to his racing, and your engagement remained a secret known only to close family and a few trusted friends. But secrets have a way of slipping out, and yours did during that fateful post-Silverstone dinner.

By the time Lando returned home to Monaco, the internet was ablaze. He’d soft-launched your engagement on Instagram with a series of photos: your clay-covered hands holding the ring, more of you holding your ring in defeat after possibly losing it, and a final shot of the infamous ‘Lan ♥’ signature on one of your vases.

The caption read: ladies and gents, the chronicles of my fiancée losing her ring. she says that my forgetfulness is rubbing off on her apparently but she sadly chose to say yes to me 😌.

The response was overwhelming. Fans went wild over the reveal, speculating about your relationship timeline and falling in love with the wholesome chaos of it all.

Despite the initial embarrassment, Lando wouldn’t change a thing. Sure, Charles might never let him live it down, and Daniel would probably bring up the ‘wet clay incident’ at every opportunity, but none of it mattered.

As he watched you work on your latest piece, the soft hum of music filling the studio, he felt a sense of peace he rarely found anywhere else. You glanced over your shoulder, catching him staring, and flashed him a smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“Back to work, Mr. Norris,” you teased, pointing at the pottery wheel.

He grinned, sliding into the seat beside you. “Yes, ma’am.”

If this was what forever looked like, Lando was more than ready for it.

Because in the end, every gummy bear, every secret, and every chaotic dinner had been worth it.

i hope you guys liked it 🥹 tbh, this was originally a gift for my friend to motivate her but now she wants to actually marry him… i take no part in that declaration.

also, this y’all man 🤨☝🏻 damn, he’s okay, i guess.

i’m still very new here, so, there’s some things i absolutely know nothing about… BUT, i’ll get through it ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-!! i love y’all, strangers ‘round the internet 💌 MWAH!

[hannieehaee]

I was reading your boob or ass svt reaction and vernon's part reminded me of that one tiktok trend. I lowkey wanna see more of his reaction. Make it like oc is trying it out on him, he could just be doing anything and oc walked in and just flashed him idk just a suggestion hehe nice fics btw!

18+ / mdi

content: bf!vernon, established relationship, smut-ish (fades out into smut), reader has boobs, boob worship, etc.

wc: 1088

a/n: this is the perfect concept for him thank u for the request!!

masterlist

"sorry, babe, i'm just finishing up this one thing. i'll be free in a bit, okay?"

those had been vernon's initial words when you'd asked him to come to bed so you could watch a movie you'd been meaning to for a while.

he somehow had a week off between his packed schedule, yet he had been spending most of it fine tuning some music on the small at-home studio he had set up a while back. you'd tried calling out to him a few times already, but he had absentmindedly dismissed you each time, an apologetic look on his eye each time he did.

after about an hour of constant dismissals, you were getting kind of fed up by the wait. had it been any other day, you would've let it slide, understanding that he had a busy job that required working from home on occasion. however, the two of you had agreed that you'd limit work this week in order to fully enjoy vernon's short-lived vacation. yet you now stood (well, laid) in bed huffing after yet another 'i'll be right there, babe' from your boyfriend.

enough was enough. you'd have to take out the big guns.

literally.

like any other man, vernon was a simple guy. when you first met, he was a bit of a mess any time the two of you hung out. it was clear to everyone and their mother how much he liked you. his crush on you manifested in shy glances and the occasional senseless ramble.

as the two of you got closer and eventually started dating, he became more chill around you, now considering you one of his best friends as well as his girlfriend.

there was just one thing that had not changed from back when the two of you first crossed paths. and it was the way he'd react to your body.

just as any other man, the sight of a nice pair of boobs could get him completely out of commission, shy in his glances and stammering just like back when you first met.

he could be formidable in bed, but he absolutely could not resist you if you caught him off guard. any time you initiated sex or sent him nudes out of nowhere, you'd have him wrapped around your finger within seconds.

today, you'd have to use a similar strategy once more.

getting up from your bed, you threw off your tank top without a thought, leaving yourself in just a tiny pair of sleeping shorts. looking yourself over in the mirror, you straightened your back so your tits could be in their nicest state for your boyfriend.

you made your way to his studio, finding him slouched over and working on something on his computer, back facing you. you knew that if you walked over to him and messed with him by wrapping yourself around his frame, he'd merely shrug you off with a chuckle and a promise to come to bed soon, so you went for something a little more out there.

"baby?" you called out from the doorframe, leaning against it in a casual yet sensual way.

"hmm? i'll be right there, baby," he practically dismissed you.

you audibly huffed, "look at me, at least?"

"oh, you're here?", of course he was so absentminded he didn't realize your voice was no longer coming from your shared room but from behind him.

turning around, he put down his headphones and faced you, eyes widening in surprise at the sight. he opened and closed his mouth a few times, brows furrowing in confusion and head cocking to the side. despite his confusion, you could tell his eyes were glued to your tits. they went back up to your eyes every few seconds but mostly remained south.

"baby?", he finally questioned.

"are you coming to bed, nonnie?", you asked as you slowly brought your hands up to your tits, taking short steps towards his chair.

"i, uh, i still have to-" he cleared his throat, "i'm almost finished, baby. i promise," he reassured, though not sounding too sure of himself.

"but you've been saying that for hours," you pouted.

"i- i know, baby," he sighed, "it's just- i just have to- fuck, can you put those away? i can't think when they're just staring at me," he groaned, interrupting himself.

"put them away?", you whined, "don't you wanna play with them, nonnie? they're so sensitive ... it's cold here. wanna see?", you asked once you'd made your way to him, standing over him as he sat on his chair, hands on his knees and digging onto them in what was clearly frustration.

"baby, please ... i need to finish, just- oh. oh, okay, i guess this is happening now," he gaped when you straddled him without such thing as a warning, tits now on his face.

"nonnie ..."

he shook his head, "don't say anything else, i- just, yeah ..." and with that, he ducked his head to get one of your tits in his mouth, hands pulling you to him so your covered cunt could sit right against his hardening dick — his thin sweats left nothing to the imagination.

"fuck, nonnie ..." you sighed as he let himself go on your tits.

his tongue explored them, uncaring in the trail of saliva he left behind. nothing mattered when he had his favorite things at his disposal, practically begging to be marked up by him.

"you're so fucking mean to me," he groaned with no actual conviction in his voice, "this is why i never get any work done at home."

"are you complaining? want me to- ah! to take them away?"

"shut up," he grumbled as he increased his ministrations, mouth going from one nipple to the other as he made out with them.

at some point, his hands had reached the back of your thighs, lifting you with him as he sat up from his chair and resulting in a yelp in surprise from you. as he attempted to walk you out of the room and towards your bedroom without bumping into too many things, you interrupted him with a mocking laugh.

"thought you had work to do?"

"baby, if you don't shut up and let me take you to bed i'm putting a lock on that door and now neither of us gets to have fun," he threatened with a huff.

all you could do was sigh in contentment when his lips enclosed around your bud once more, ready to let him have whatever he wanted.

[dirtysvthoughts]

𝙗𝙖𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣! [1𝗄 𝖼𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇] - part. 1: the destination

synopsis: you and your boyfriend have been working nonstop. performances on his end and endless meetings on yours. when you both finally get a break, he proposes you two get away for a few days. little do the both of you know that this “baecation” will provide physical, emotional, and sexual healing.

general tags/warnings: smut, pwp, female! reader, boyfriend! chan, non-idol! chan (professional dancer! chan), vacation/baecation getaway, lots of teasing, lots of dirty talk, lingerie on reader, hotel room sex, balcony sex, pool sex, basically chan and reader are just horny lovebirds

this part’s tags/warnings: cooking and food, kissing, tinges of suggestive material, mentions of the beach, waterfronts, etc.

word count: 2.6k

notes: well, she’s finally here! baecation is ready for you all to consume and i really hope you all like it! 🥹 thank you again for 1k, it still feels very surreal and i’m so lucky to do one of the things i love and share it with you guys. now before i get too sappy, let’s get into it shall we?

taglist will be reblogged!

——

quite frankly - you’re over it.

for the past month and a half, you’ve been pushing your limits at your job. your boss designated you as the lead of a project and on top of that, you had to put in overtime to ensure that the project workload AND your individual load were still up to standards. while you knew things would be worth it in the end (your project commissions and overtime would give you an extra $2,500 dollars on your paycheck), you would be lying if you said your mental and physical health were starting to deteriorate.

today especially, you realized things were going to get worse before they got better. as you shut down your workspace, you felt ounces of your energy leave your body. too much happened for your liking - your teammates argued about the project’s direction, your boss complained about the most minute details in a presentation you were to give in a few days, and to culminate the day, your company laptop malfunctioned while you were working and it had to be sent to i.t. for it to get fixed. at this point, you were ready to head home, wrap yourself up in your covers, and forget about everything and everyone.

you’re not sure if you heard people say goodbye to you as you left the office, but if they did, you were too tired (and too agitated) to care and respond back. as you enter into the parking deck of your office building, you fish for your phone and see some missed texts from your boyfriend, chan.

channie ❤️: hey, just wanted to check on you

channie ❤️: i’ll probably be over later tonight

channie ❤️: so much is going on, and i really want to see you

you breathe a sigh of relief at seeing your boyfriend’s name appear on your screen, but you also can’t help but worry. your boyfriend chan was a professional dancer - and a damn good one. he’s been dancing since he was three, and it’s his first love. he teaches at three of the most popular dance studios on a weekly basis, drawing in huge crowds of avid and eager learners. his instagram comments are always flooded with words of praise - handsomeness and talent catching the eyes of millions. his sharpness, keen eye for detail, and flawless execution made him the target for entertainment companies and he was often called in to be a backup dancer or choreograph for popular idol groups. currently, he’s preparing to dance with a popular boy group after their latest comeback broke records.

he did mention that his rehearsals were getting a bit more intense, especially since this group in particular were about to start their promotion period. there were days where he complained that his body ached and times that you helped take care of him, so you just had to pray and hope that today wasn’t as harsh on him.

you and chan have been together for a year and a half after meeting at party hosted by a mutual friend. you weren’t sure that you two were a good match for each other, but after a few meet-ups and intriguing conversations you realized that you two had more in common than you thought. whatever one of you might have lacked, another made up for in actions or words. you two complemented each other and you had each other’s backs. even through some rough patches, you both realized that there was no one else you wanted to be with. there was no going back.

as you started your car engine, you shoot a quick text back to chan, thanking all higher powers you would at least have some better solace this evening.

babe 😏: you too? i guess we can talk about later when you come by. see you in a bit, love ya ❤️

the drive after work feels somewhat longer than normal, the traffic almost making you reach your limit. but you finally find yourself back in the comfort of your apartment, kicking your shoes off to the side and dropping your bag and blazer to the floor. you breathe a huge sigh of relief as you enter your bedroom, take off your bra, and flop onto your bed, letting the sweet scent of your bedsheets fill your nose.

you find yourself drifting into dreamland a few minutes later, but the grumbling of your stomach and the fact that you still had the rest of your work clothes on brings you back to reality. despite some opposition from the rest of your body, you get up and grab some loungewear from your dresser and head for the shower, hoping to relax your tense muscles.

after you come out the shower and change, you head to the kitchen to start on dinner. you decide on chicken fried rice - one of you and chan’s favorite meals to eat together. you pull the ingredients from the fridge and the seasonings from the cabinet, asking your smart home device to play serene, chill music. the instrumentals fill your space, and you get to work - washing the chicken first.

as you finish garnishing both plates, you hear your doorbell ring. you check your camera, and smile as you see your boyfriend come into view. you quickly wash your hands and answer the door, embracing chan in a tight hug before he can even say anything to you.

he’s surprised at how you rush at him, but it quickly melts into a soft smile as he wraps one hand around your waist and one on the back of your neck. he gently sways you back and forth, rubbing the small of your skin. after nearly eight hours of rehearsal, all he wanted to do was spend the rest of the day with you with no worries.

“hey you,” he whispers, glowing smile still on his perfect features. you finally make eye contact with him, a smile coming on your face, beaming at the fact that you were finally with your love. “hey,” you respond, going up on your toes to press a kiss to his soft cheek. chan takes the opportunity to place his hand on your chin and places a kiss on your lips. he quickly realizes he missed this wonderful feeling, and he deepens his movements, smirking when you can feel yourself lose all control and give into his desires.

you have to force yourself to come off him, knowing that if this continues dinner would be long forgotten. “c’mon babe, i made your favorite!” you take his hand and he drops his bags by your door, the familiar blending of seasonings wafting through his nose. “you made chicken fried rice?!” chan beams, entering the kitchen, his mouth nearly drooling at the plate full of goodness. “man, i really needed this today, thank you baby,” he places a kiss on your cheek this time as he goes to wash his hands. you can’t help but blush as you take the plates to the table, taking your seat as chan follows behind you.

“i’ll eat deliciously,” he affirms you, toasting your fork to you, taking his first bite and nodding in agreement at your cooking. you give him a minute to eat before you ask him anything.

“how have rehearsals been?”

“in one word, crazy,” he sighs. “i had to come in early to teach one of the members since he had an overseas schedule when the group had practice. then we had to rework some formations and drill the choreo over and over to get ready for filming tomorrow. i’m excited for filming and all, but im just tired.”

you sigh, shaking your head in agreement. “that’s understandable, things at the office have been crazy too. i love what i do, but this overtime is driving me crazy. i can’t wait to be finished so i can get this big bonus.”

“you’ve got this through. and when that check comes, it’ll all be worth it. just make sure you take care of yourself in the meantime. you know i’m proud of you right?” he rubs your back, his hand softening your tight muscles.

“thanks,” you respond shyly, smiling at your lover. “you know i’m proud of you too. you’re living out your dream everyday and you’re having fun doing it. your hard work is paying off too, chan. if i haven’t told you lately, you’re doing amazing. but you also need to make sure you’re taking care of yourself too, okay?”

he nods in agreement. “it’s only fair cause i asked you to do the same. i promise i’ll take care of myself.”

time passes by pleasantly, empty plates now in the dishwasher, conversations continuing from the kitchen table to the couch. your head rests on chan’s shoulders, your right hand on his leg.

“so when do you guys film the performance video?”

“tomorrow, and it’s supposed to last two days. then we have promotions with the group, but they divided us into two groups, so i only have to perform at music shows during the second week.”

an idea pops into your head, imaginary lightbulbs flashing rapidly. even though you were working overtime, you were scheduled for absences on friday and monday and your boss hadn’t rescinded on your days off. if chan only had to work until thursday, that would mean for once - both of your schedules would align.

“wait.. so that means you have a break after the music video?” you question. “even if it’s a short one?”

“yeah, what are you getting at?”

you sit up from your boyfriend’s shoulder realizing that the planning you completed in your head might have actually worked. “chan,” you exclaimed, “i actually have a break too! i get friday and monday off! chan, do you know what this means? we finally have the chance to spend more time together!”

your excitedness makes chan swoon, but it also brings a tinge of sadness. you were right - you two have been so busy that you had limited time together. between him dancing and teaching and with your work project, moments like these where you two could get away for a minute were rare.

“we should do something special then baby! we could go to dinner,” he gasps coming up with a new idea, “and i’ve always wanted to take you on a night boat ride! remember when i sent you those pictures from japan?”

earlier in the year, chan went overseas for another performance opportunity and during his time off, he and some of his other dancer friends took a boat ride with the city lights gleaming over the large body of water, waves that could lull anyone to sleep with their calming effect. it was a sight to behold, even through a 7 inch phone screen.

“yeah i do! those pictures were gorgeous,” you admire, thinking how back them you wished you were with chan on that boat, head resting on his shoulders like you did earlier, taking peeks of your boyfriend every now and then. he would be staring into the distance, somehow managing to look more handsome than anyone else.

“actually, i kinda want to do something grander than a date night though..” you hint, playing with your hair as you temporarily avoid eye contact. “i’ve been seeing this idea on insta for a while, and now i dream of doing it with you, chan. why don’t we take a trip together babe?”

“like a day trip?”

“mmm, i was thinking more like for the weekend. and it doesn’t have to be somewhere ridiculously far either, not like bali or anything! matter of fact, there’s a beach that i found right off the coast and the city is stunning!” you pull out your phone and type in the name of the beach in the search engine. you pass your phone to chan, images of beautiful blue water and white sand flooding his lenses.

“ah, crystal beach!” chan recognizes the name. “some of my friends have been there before, they said it was really nice! they said there’s a waterfront hotel right in front of the beach, and from the right floor you can get the perfect view.”

suddenly, you can envision the two of you on the fifteenth floor, sunrise glistening through the windows as you sleep in chan’s arms, legs wrapped around his waist, head on his chest. nothing else would matter in that moment expect for you two. no work, no projects, no eight-counts - just you, your lover, and the gentle ocean breeze.

“so, what are you thinking? should we go for it?” you ask.

“let’s do it babe! we’ve never done something like this before, and we can make some great memories out of it! and from the looks it, we could both use some time away from all of this,” he gestures towards the windows, overseeing the big city that encased you two.

“yeah,” you nod in agreement. “i think some time away is long overdue. and it’ll be good for us! honestly, i was thinking about us waking up together, and now i can’t wait to get out of here!” you both share a quick laugh as you head comes to the familiar space of chan’s shoulders.

you two share a few moments of silence before chan taps your leg twice as your eyes look into his, “do you wanna leave friday morning? we can get there by the afternoon, chill for a bit, and then get dinner or something.”

“m’kay, that sounds good to me. do you want me to reserve the room or do you wanna do it?” you ask, rubbing his shoulder.

“i can reserve the hotel room! don’t worry about it babe.” you kiss chan’s cheek as a thank you, fingers intertwining with his. chan pulls out his phone, typing in the hotel name, leading him to the website. he then locks his phone, already making plans to make this the best trip for you both.

some more time passes, you and chan watching random youtube videos, laughing at funny moments. but soon it comes time for chan to leave, he has an early morning because of the music video filming.

you walk with him to the door, handing him his bags. you go on your toes to kiss his cheek one more time before he leaves. “good luck on filming, i’ll see you on friday!”

he bends down to press a gentle kiss on your lips, hand caressing your jaw to deepen the feeling. you return his passion, tongues moving together like choreography. when you separate, his lips form in a smirk - he loves the feeling of leaving you breathless.

“if i get out early on thursday night i’ll text you. if i do, can i spend the night?”

“of course, baby,” you smile at him, biting your lip. “i’ll see you soon, okay? you need to get some rest.”

“okay, okay, love you baby,” he says leaving one more kiss on your lips.

“love you too, text me when you get home!” you respond as he opens the door, waving you goodbye, signaling with his fingers that he would affirm he got home safely.

chan closes the door as he walks to the elevator, hearing your door lock, making sure you were safe. he quickly gets out his phone, the hotel’s website coming back into view. he chooses the dates, chooses two people to occupy the space, and it takes chan to the room selection. he scrolls until he find the perfect room - one with a king size bed, and a balcony view, hopefully one that would overlook the beach.

before he reserves the room, he texts one of his friends that stayed at the same hotel.

hey yeonjun, i need a favor.

which exact floor were you on when you went to that hotel at crystal beach?

[biolumien]

Hi Hi! first time requesting like this and I just recently finished watching the latest episode of Kaiju number 8. I was wondering if your could write something for Vice Captain Hoshina.

I was thinking something along the lines of a reincarnation storyline? Maybe Reader is a renowned painter or something. And one day they come across a dream of Hoshina in their past life and they paint his face. And Hoshina is suddenly bombarded by a few officers/cadets a few days later about a sudden article blowing up online with a painting that had extremely similar structure to his face. And maybe they'd end up meeting because of it?

I love your writing. Particularly the one with the glasses reader that I read a few days back. You're free to change things as you see fit. And I'm sure whatever you come up with will be very nice. Sorry if my words are confusing. I don't speak english language that well. 😊👌 Thank you if you decide to write for this ask.

notes: ok the way i am. actually obsessed with this i hope you enjoy!!

every 'one line' drawn.

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader no warnings, i think wc: 1768

in your dreams, you always see the same face. red eyes watching your face, purple hair framed over his face and the feeling of a callused hand on your hand, on your cheek. and every time he leans into kiss you, you find yourself pressing your face closer to his, as if desperate, and then you wake up. 

and when you wake up, you always feel the telltale trickle of a tear down your face, the feeling of salt on your tongue. 

there’s no time to wonder what the dreams ever mean, what with your job as a painter. you lived commission to commission—and while your customers were always high brow and paid generously, still meant that you couldn’t be lost in daydreams forever. 

and in your studio, with the pungent smell of turpentine and linseed oil, with your hands inevitably smeared with oil paints, it was easy to forget the stranger whose hands felt rough and weary, and yet held your face with measured gentleness. it was easy to forget him—up until you went back to bed, and you’d always be back in the same dream. 

“i keep seeing you,” you murmur in your dream. “who are you?” 

the man laughs. 

he seems sad, for a second. 

“a dear friend,” he responds. you see it on his face, the way his lips twist at his words, that it’s not quite true. and he leans in again, watching your face. “it’s okay if you don’t remember me.” 

“but i do,” you say in protest. you think you remember this face. “i want to.” 

you must remember this face, surely—this face that, upon your words, looks sadder. and then you wonder if he’s even real—or if this is simply your subconscious, saddened that you can’t remember. saddened that your mind replays this moment, again and again, a repeated brushstroke pulling open the blank canvas underneath. 

“we all want things we can’t have, sometimes,” the man says. 

he leans into kiss you, 

and you jolt up out of bed, awakening to a phone call from your manager. 

“hello…?” you mumble into your phone, pressing it against your cheek as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “it’s rare you call me randomly like this…” 

“tis no random call,” your manager responds. “you’ve received a request to exhibit some of your works from a museum. will you do it? i hear the pay’s pretty good.”

“mmm… any specific theme?” you ask. 

“not really. they said to let your imagination go wild.” 

“hm.” 

you touch your lips, and when you close your eyes, you see a hint of those crimson eyes again. 

“alright. i think i’ve got a pretty good muse this time,” you say. 

[…]

hoshina wasn’t exactly someone who was very in the know about art. his job, for one, meant that it’s not like he would exactly be interested in art in general, and it’s not like he was even spending his days off on art museum trips or admiring the local art scene. 

so why was it that everyone seemed all abuzz about art today?

and why did it seem like there were more eyes on him than before? not that he particularly abhorred attention or anything, but the eyes seemed to be looking at his face specifically. 

his eyes flit to some of the new officer recruits—iharu, reno, kafka… fuck, even haruichi and aoi? what the hell was going on—huddled around a laptop. haruichi’s brow furrows as he stares at the illuminated screen, and then flits up to look at hoshina. when hoshina stares back, harder, haruichi’s gaze immediately ducks back to the laptop.  

okay. 

well, something was definitely up. 

hoshina strolls over to the recruits, who immediately seem to start panicking—the panic is written across kafka’s face more obviously than the others, and reno elbows kafka in the side. 

“what’s all this about? if you’ve got time to huddle you’ve got time to run laps—” hoshina starts, leaning over at the screen before—

“about that, vice captain,” iharu says. 

hoshina’s in stunned silence staring at the screen, because… isn’t that—

“holy shit,” hoshina says. 

“holy shit indeed,” haruichi says grimly. 

on haruichi’s laptop screen is a painting of— him. hoshina’s damned face, brows gentle and a softened smile on his face. it was a beautiful painting, and yet—there was something sad about the smile, the brows belying deep sorrow. 

“this painter’s pretty well-known, too, aren’t they?” kafka asks. “for like… the psychedelic stuff.” 

“no,” reno says. “they’re like our modern-day monet or something. impressionist paintings.” 

“impressi-what? how do you know this much about art, reno?” iharu asks, wrapping his arm around reno’s neck in a headlock. reno coughs, slapping iharu’s arm. 

“shut up,” reno chokes out, but even as the bickering picks up, hoshina’s gaze is still transfixed on the painting. 

it’s him. no doubt about it. 

“i’ve never talked to them before,” hoshina says after a moment. at once the arguments rattle to a halt, but in the empty relief of silence is the carved truth—that the painting is definitely of him, and its painter was a person who he’d never talked to before in his life. 

“the artist is going to be doing a panel about their exhibition soon,” haruichi says, glancing up at hoshina. “i think they can get me a ticket if i ask.” 

“… just don’t expect me to lighten your laps around the training course,” hoshina says with a chuckle. 

[…]

you hated speaking in front of an audience. cliche, of course, the introverted artist that squirrels away in in their studio—but that was often your reality. you liked to say you wanted your work to ‘speak for itself’, as it were, so you didn’t often make public appearances. 

but your most recent exhibition, featuring the painting of your mysterious dream visitor, created far more buzz than you could have asked for. suddenly everyone and anyone wanted an answer as for who your muse was, why he had a very striking resemblance to soshiro hoshina of the japan anti-kaiju defense force’s third division, and had you gotten permission from hoshina to do it? did you have a specific message surrounding your work?

“just stick to the script,” your manager says to you. “i talked it through with some of the reporters and i wrote some answers for you if you’re scared.” he hands you a slip of paper, and your eyes scan the page, and you swallow the lump in forming in your throat. 

“i shouldn’t have done the painting after all,” you say.

it was strange. in the days and weeks you’d worked on the painting, you hadn’t seen your muse in your dreams at all. you’d been forced to rely on only the memory of the dream–which only seemed to get fuzzier and fuzzier until it became barely a wisp. and now, in those ensuing weeks that the painting has been on exhibition, you almost felt embarrassed of the painting–its vague subject matter might have been charming and a little kitsch, but charming and a little kitsch wasn’t supposed to garner this much attention.

“nonsense,” your manager says. “it’s a wonderful painting.” he pushes you by the back, gently urging you forward. “they’re ready for you.”

you push past the door separating you from the reporters–and then are immediately flashbanged with cameras and lights, and jumbling, layered voices creating a discordant symphony that made you wince.

“um. thank you… for…” you wince as your grip fumbles on your microphone, nearly dropping it, the feedback screeching across speakers. “um. sorry. i’m not exactly the best public speaker–my repertoire of events… like this, isn’t many. but thank you for attending this panel… surrounding my exhibition of my latest work. i’ll answer… a few questions.”

the reporters looked like a jumbled blob for the most part–a thrumming organism of similar faces that melted together into one homogenous mess, a splotch of badly-mixed paint on the palette that you’d scrape away with a knife and discard. 

reciting your manager’s written responses wasn’t the hard part. as you continued to banter, your eyes swept across the crowd.

what were you even doing here?

you wanted to crawl back to your studio, already, and go back to painting. at least then the idea that you’d dreamed up some man who bore a striking resemblance to someone who already existed would fade away with time. and then your eyes found that telltale shade of crimson and purple–for just a moment. and you think his eyes meet yours, too–crimson eyes the exact shade as the one in your dreams. 

his eyes widen. 

“... as you were saying?” a reporter’s words float back to your ears, ephemeral, and you pause.

“can we… no more questions.” you shake your head, finding your vision swimming, blurring, and you raise a hand wiping tears from your face. “sorry. something just… came up–”

and you push into the crowd, trying to find the face from your dreams.

that had to be him, right? his face? it was like as soon as you saw him, the underpainting of your memories flowed back to you–a heartaching loss pounding in your chest. something was wrong. something was missing, because you’d forgotten–and now that you’d remembered it, it hurt. 

“i’m sorry,” you say. 

“you’ve nothing to be sorry for,” the man says to you, and leans in to kiss you. “i’ll find you again in the next life.”

“i’ll remember you,” you say. 

the man watches you, a somewhat sad look on his face.

you press your thumb to the corner of his lip.

“and when i do, i’ll do something big. to capture your attention. and then your eyes will be on me forever.”

you finally manage to catch the man in the crowd, and you realize you’ve seen him before. only once or twice, though–on a small poster or on television. soshiro hoshina, of the third division. you did know this man–but just barely.

he lets out a surprised noise as soon as you collide with him, and you gasp breathlessly. 

“i’m sorry,” you say, looking up at hoshina. “i just… have we…”

“met?” hoshina answers your question, cocking his head, blinking down at you.

“yes,” you say. “i think… i think so. maybe. we… you look familiar.”

hoshina blinks, and then smiles.

it’s so different than the way he smiled at you in your dream. the corners of his lips quirk up, his eyebrows relax almost as he watches you. 

“i thought so too,” hoshina says, and you hear relief in his voice. “so… um. hi.”

“hi,” you respond, and he laughs.

[gurugirl]

Can We Start Over | Ch. 5 The Coincidence

Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers

This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).

Chapter 5. Summary: Things have changed for you and Harry but when you see him at a meeting, you are taken by surprise. It feels like destiny. Maybe this time things will work out for you two.

A/N: This is the final part to this series! Thank you everyone who stuck with the story and gave it a shot! Appreciate all the love!

Word Count: 12.7k

Warning: 18+ only, angst, smut, fluff

Can We Start Over? masterlist

Mr. Allen was on the phone again. He’d called you into his office but the moment you stepped in he got a call and told you to sit and wait. That it would only be a minute.

And it was only a minute. But then he got another call and now it was 23 minutes later while he was still yammering about some person who was just the worst.

You were used to it, though. Mr. Allen was retired so nothing was a rush for him anymore. Which also meant he held other people up. But waiting for your boss was the least of your worries.

His wife and her ever-changing personality was your biggest concern. She was, to put it mildly, a monster. And to make matters worse, she ran the whole household so you were often seeking her out for things. Mrs. Allen also handled her husband’s schedule and if he was running behind guess who got the blame. That’s right. You did. Every time.

And it was the same thing over and over again. You started your day trying to keep Mr. Allen up to task, failed, got reprimanded and degraded by a nasty human, held back tears and then took a long drive with loud music to clear your head with a quick stop for dinner, probably at a drive-through.

Needless to say, you were already planning on quitting. You’d gotten really lucky with Alfred. And even working with Harry hadn’t been as bad as it was working for Mrs. Allen and her husband. But you tried not to think about Harry if you could help it.

By the time Mr. Allen got off the phone he was running late for his physical therapy appointment. You got him moving along quickly and sent him on his way but not before Mrs. Allen started poking around and making comments under her breath.

“What was that?” You turned to look behind yourself at the wicked witch as she stood near the edge of the foyer.

“He’s late again.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“That is correct.”

She rolled her eyes, “What’s the point of having a personal assistant who can’t even keep the boss on schedule?”

You smiled, holding back your true thoughts, “Well, being as my job description doesn’t entail using physical force on the boss, which is what it would take to get Mr. Allen to keep on time for anything, I’m certain you’ll find that once again, this isn’t my responsibility.”

“Lazy,” she spoke under her breath.

You tilted your head and squinted your eyes at her, “That’s the last thing I am. Now, if you don’t mind, my workday is over. Have a good evening.”

You walked past her to go into your room to pack up your laptop and leave. You’d stay at your own place that night. You hated staying at the Allen’s house. Not only was the room they’d given you a tiny spec of a thing with no windows, no closet, and not even a single rug to cover the cold tile floors but being anywhere near Mrs. Allen made your skin crawl.

“I don’t know why we bother with the room for you,” she was standing in the doorway when you turned around.

“You really didn’t bother much with the room in the first place. That’s why I don’t stay here. My house has a better bed with a big window looking into my backyard. I just feel better in my own bed at night.”

You walked past her and held your breath so as not to inhale her disgusting, pungent perfume. You used to like the scent she wore. But now you loathed it. Whenever you smelled it, even on another woman, it made you queasy. You very much did not like Mrs. Allen.

You turned up the volume on your car radio the moment your front tires hit the road. You always looked forward to going home after work. This day wasn’t as bad as you’d had before and tomorrow you’d do it all over again.

And instead of stopping at a drive-through for fast food, you decided you’d stop at the grocery store and pick up ingredients to actually make something fresh.

Typically you didn’t cook. You didn’t have time for it. Picking up groceries would put you home at almost 8 pm. And then you still needed to cook so you wouldn’t be eating until close to 9 and then you could finally relax with a glass of wine and a good book or something trashy on television. Which was why drive-throughs were your go-to dinner plans. It meant you were home by 7:30 and dinner was already cooked. Not the best use of money and certainly not the healthiest way to live but you wouldn’t be doing it much longer.

You had a meeting to attend with Mr. and Mrs. Allen the following week that piqued your interest. It was for a piece of art that they’d been looking for. And someone found it for them. From an art dealer who was not too far away. You didn’t know for sure but you had a feeling. And you wanted to find out if that feeling was right.

Maybe you were a masochist and just wanted to pour salt onto the wound of your split open heart one more time. Or maybe you did have some hope that it was Harry and that maybe you could try and receive his feelings for you once and for all.

But it’d been just over 9 months since you’d seen him and you were sure he’d moved on by now. There would be no reason for him to still be pining over you the way you were over him. And what were the chances that it was him in the first place? You didn’t know but you needed to find out.

Yeah. You regretted what you’d done. Pushing him away like that. But once you’d done it, it felt like it was too late to go back. Maybe it was your pride. Or that little voice in the back of your head that told you men always leave and they always lie. That anyone that might love you would probably just disappoint you in the end.

But now you were in therapy and talking to someone opened your eyes to your self-sabotaging ways. You had been certain that the way you felt couldn’t be helped. That you were a prisoner to your trauma and all the hurt and that it was for the best. You’d been wrong, though. You could help the way you processed feelings and the way you responded when things got hard. You didn’t have to push away the notion that a man could love you or keep running away from your problems.

After picking up ingredients to make a nice little dinner for yourself you arrived at your cute house.

You loved the place. Loved the neighborhood. You found it a few weeks after you told Harry to leave your apartment. It wasn’t that far from your old place but you felt like it was good enough for a new start. At the time, you were ready to take the plunge. To move on. It was just a rental but it felt like your own place.

Though, not long after moving in you started feeling like getting rid of every trace of Harry had been a bad idea. You missed him. However, you didn’t recognize how you were feeling for him until you began therapy. The more you spoke honestly about everything and without any judgment, you began to peel off layers of yourself that you had unconsciously piled on to protect yourself. But that only wound up making things worse.

And one night, almost six months since you’d seen him, you decided to drive past his big, gated home. You still had the fob to his entry but of course, you wouldn’t use it. You only wanted to just drive past. To your surprise, there was a For Sale sign stuck in the grass in front of the gate.

You parked across from the house and tried to see if there was anything that indicated he’d actually moved out but seeing inside was impossible. You could see the top level of the house and that was really it.

The sinking feeling in your chest that you’d probably never see him again started to settle over you slowly. You’d moved away and blocked him from everything and then deleted his contact and now he was no longer living in the only place you knew where he might be. He was gone.

But then when you helped set up the meeting with the art dealer there was the smallest tinge of hope there. You felt like this might be your last chance. You had just been about to quit when Mrs. Allen gave you the number to an assistant of a dealer who had access to a painting they wanted. You never learned the name of the art dealer, only of the assistant who worked for them.

So you’d stick it out until after the meeting and then you’d give up your hope for ever seeing Harry again if it wasn’t him. And you’d also quit your job once and for all.

Of course, it’s not him. Don’t get your hopes up.

You had to remind yourself of that over and over again. The chances were slim that you would actually be seeing Harry.

Either way, you were looking forward to that meeting. Even if it wasn’t Harry, you’d be free of Mr. and Mrs. Allen once and for all after you quit.

But the days dragged on slowly. The only thing that was good about the time that led up to the meeting was the little secret that you were quitting. It was something you were excited about.

The morning of the meeting you woke up well before your alarm went off. You’d been unable to fall back asleep as you remembered the last time you and Harry slept together. The words he spoke to you that night haunted you every day since, “Want to make you feel so good. Want to make you smile, Y/n. Want to make you happy.”

You sighed. You hoped it was him at the meeting. You hoped there was still some way to salvage what you’d done. Hoped there was still something there. If it was him, that is.

Your entire morning routine had turned into a spa event. You turned on your coffee pot and then got into the shower, getting yourself ready for the possibility of anything and everything. You had selected your outfit days prior and put on a full face of makeup. You were going to look your absolute best.

And no matter what the outcome of the meeting was, today was a good day. Because at the end of it, you’d be a free woman. You’d never again step foot in the Allen house. You took all of your belongings from the spec of a bedroom over a few days so no one would notice. You rarely stayed over anyway so it wasn’t like you needed to keep much there in the first place.

You had a taxi take you to the Allen’s on that day. Because your plan was to quit the moment the painting was purchased and you weren’t going to be going back to their house with them after the meeting just to get your car. You’d get a taxi home. It was quite dramatic but you couldn’t wait to quit. Couldn’t wait to tell Mrs. Allen you were done and then walk off. Only a few more hours.

When you arrived at the Allen’s your first stop was the kitchen to make Mr. Allen’s coffee (skim milk and stevia) and Mrs. Allen’s chai green tea with raw honey. This was always the best part of your day. Things were usually quiet, Mrs. Allen wasn’t raging just yet, and the morning light that came into their gorgeous kitchen felt peaceful. While the coffee was perking you brought Mrs. Allen her tea drink where you knew you’d find her and placed it down on its coaster next to her. As usual, she did not acknowledge your existence or even say thank you.

Mr. Allen was always cordial, however.

“Morning Mr. Allen. Here’s your coffee.”

“Thank you, Y/n. Have you seen my wife this morning?”

You smiled and stood next to his desk, “I just gave her some tea. Why?”

“I think she wanted to make sure we had wire information set up to pay for the painting today. She’s very set on making the purchase. Can you double-check we have everything we need?”

“I’m certain we have everything we need but I’ll definitely do a quick check.”

As you suspected, everything was ready to go. When you confirmed as much you went to find Mrs. Allen to tell her.

“Mr. Allen told me you wanted to make sure the wire instructions were ready and I just wanted to let you know that we’ve got everything we need and it’s all ready to go for when it comes time to pay.”

“Good. Now,” she turned to look at you, “this is a meeting we cannot be late for so I’d appreciate it if you could have everything ready for us so there are no delays. I don’t want any excuses.”

You nodded, stifling the small laugh before it could make it out of your mouth, “Of course, Mrs. Allen.”

But as always, Mr. Allen was dawdling. You did remind him of the meeting but he assured you he was going to be on time. He wasn’t. You weren’t surprised.

When it was time to leave he was still in his office in his slippers on his third cup of coffee talking to his brother about sports.

“I told you this is a meeting we cannot be late for. This is unacceptable!” Mrs. Allen was red in the face as she barked at you. Somehow, she always seemed shocked when her husband held things up. You didn’t know how it was possible that she was so surprised.

You blinked your eyes and sighed, “He doesn’t need to be at the meeting with us. I say we just go. He’ll be fine here by himself.”

She nodded and mumbled under her breath about your incompetence, “Tell him we’re leaving without him. I’m going to get the driver to pull the car around.”

You poked your head into the office and waved at Mr. Allen and he pulled the phone from his ear to look at you with his brows raised. As if he didn’t know what was going on.

“We’re going to leave now for the painting. You can stay behind. No need for you to be there. Okay?”

He smiled at you and nodded before getting back to his call. You knew he didn’t care. This painting wasn’t for him. It was for Mrs. Allen. It was something she’d been wanting. She’d just hang it up alongside the rest of her collection of exotic animal paintings and artwork.

The car ride was silent. Which you preferred. You tried not speaking to Mrs. Allen when you could help it. Luckily she wasn’t interested in having a conversation with you.

And 30 minutes later when you arrived, your mind was swirling with thoughts of what could happen and what probably wouldn’t.

Your nerves were all over the place. If you were about to walk into a room with Harry Styles, being nervous was warranted. You hadn’t seen his handsome face in so long and wanted so badly for it to be him.

It was unlikely. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. No reason to get your hopes up.

You and Mrs. Allen got out of the car once the driver had let you both out at the front.

It was a public gallery so everyone could just walk in to admire the art. You noticed there were people inside looking at the sculptures and paintings as you followed behind Mrs. Allen toward the desk at the side of the room where a young woman sat.

“Hi. I’m Delia Allen here for a meeting to view the Ghaui piece.”

The young woman smiled widely, “Yes. Of course! Just follow me. We have it moved into a special viewing room just for you.”

If there was ever a moment in your life where you thought that one small step toward a physical room could forever change your life, it was this. What if he was there? What if he wasn’t?

The gallery wasn’t a large space but there were temporary walls placed around the room to act as dividers and a spot for more art to hang. You wove around the walls and into a hallway where the young woman stepped into a room with Mrs. Allen just behind her. You paused for a moment before stepping inside. This was it. It either was or it wasn’t.

Placing your hand on the frame of the door and taking a deep breath you breached the space to enter the viewing room and found that there was no one else inside. It was the painting that Mrs. Allen had been so keen on buying, hung up with lights aimed at it, a table and chairs.

You didn’t know what to expect but it wasn’t this. You imagined someone would be inside the room waiting for you.

“The dealer will be right in. He’s finishing up something with someone else. Five minutes tops.”

The painting was of elephants in an African wildlife scene. It wasn’t your taste but you had to respect Mrs. Allen for her interests. If there was anything about her you could say you liked, it was her love of animals and how much support she’d given African wildlife sanctuaries. She’d also gone on many safaris (without Mr. Allen you learned) and helped fund conservation parks that helped employ people and protect the land and animals. Honestly, when you found out this was her thing you felt like you were looking at a different woman.

She was still a bitch, though.

“I thought this meeting was set up and ready to go, Y/n,” she turned to look at you. As if somehow the dealer running late was your fault.

“It is set and ready. The girl said the dealer would be right in. We just need to wait a couple of minutes.”

You didn’t look at her face as you responded. You were done looking at her face. After this meeting, you’d never have to look at it again.

“Sergi could’ve come if I knew this was going to happen.”

You rolled your eyes, back facing her as you looked over the lines and the paint on the canvas. It was a well-done piece of art.

When the door opened only a moment later you felt your heart stop for a split second, a chill ran down your face, over your shoulders, and through your spine as you slowly turned around when Mrs. Allen spoke, “Finally.”

Your vision grew spotty, like tiny particles floating around and mixing up the scene before you. Fuzzy like a grey screen on a television. You blinked your eyes to clear your sight as you looked at him for the first time in over 9 months. It was him.

And his reaction to you appeared much the same, with him pausing in the doorway, mouth agape, eyes wide.

“Hello? Are you the dealer?” Mrs. Allen was great at ruining a moment.

Harry’s eyes blinked as he shook his head and finally peeled his sight from you to look at the other woman in the room. He cleared his throat, closing the door behind himself, and stepped forward to Mrs. Allen with his hand out, “Yes. I’m the dealer. Harry Styles,” he shook her hand and then shot his eyes back to you, taking in your outfit quickly before moving toward you, his hand outstretched in silence.

You hadn’t moved from your spot next to the painting. You hadn’t closed your mouth or peeped a single word because you couldn’t. And even though you had a feeling that it was him before the meeting ever took place, the surprise and shock you felt was overwhelming.

It was really him. It was Harry. And you couldn’t believe it was him.

You placed your hand in his to shake and the moment was eternity. Your eyes pinned together, palms warm to the touch, searching gazes, and a million little thoughts dancing around your heads. It was real. He was real. You were real. The moment was real.

But of course, as Mrs. Allen tended to do she interrupted the odd reunion and began speaking, “Please go over the details with me. I think I’d like to know a little more and then we can talk price.”

Harry’s adam’s apple bobbed as he released your hand and straightened his posture and he handed a folder to Mrs. Allen and began to go over everything she might want to know.

Your heart was racing and you were unable to listen to anything he said regarding the painting. It all sounded like gibberish to you but you could hear his smooth deep voice as he spoke, and the occasional glance in your direction had your skin sparking in delight.

“Earth to Y/n,” Mrs. Allen waved her hand in front of your face and you slowly drifted from your reverie back to reality and looked at her.

“Jesus, it’s like herding cats with you,” she pointed, “Let’s get this part ready. Open your laptop.”

You reached into your bag and pulled out your laptop, placing it on the table so you could begin the wire payment. You looked from Mrs. Allen to Harry and then back to your screen as the bank sight loaded.

Of course, you had to log in and the internet connection wasn’t as fast as you’d have liked so Mrs. Allen let out an annoyed sigh.

“Always like this with her,” she looked at Harry with her arms crossed, “Slow. Lazy–“

“Are you serious?” Harry sounded perturbed. Aghast.

You looked from him to Mrs. Allen and the look on his face matched the sound of his voice as he looked at her with disdain.

“Of course I am. You don’t know her so you have no idea what–“

“I do actually know her,” he glanced at you softening his gaze. “Don’t speak about her that way or the deal is off.”

You blinked and smiled gently as you opened up the bank wire screen.

“What? You can’t treat me like this. I’m a paying client. I will walk out of here without this painting if you dare–“

“Then leave.” He looked at her with his brows raised in a dare.

She huffed and clutched her purse, “Fine. Just… do the deal, Y/n. I’ll be right back. I need to use the restroom and get some air. When I return I want this to be over with.”

She walked out of the room and slammed the door rudely and Harry stepped in front of the computer as you looked up at him, “Y/n. I can’t believe it’s you. Are you working for her?”

You stood up straight and nodded, “Yeah. It’s a disaster. I’m quitting as soon as this is over. It’s been my plan for a month.”

He smiled, “You’re quitting? Now?”

You nodded again, “Yes. As soon as this deal is complete I’m done.”

“Can I see you? Like, after this? Dinner maybe?”

You sputtered a tiny laugh. It was like music to your ears, “Okay. Why not?”

Harry grinned widely and pointed at the computer, “Let’s get this over with then. Push that payment through and let’s get out of here.”

There it was again, the blurred vision, grey and colored specs floating around you as if you were in the grey screen of a TV. You couldn’t believe it. Perhaps it was only a dream. Perhaps you were about to wake up and it was all going to have been just a wild dream that you’d never recover from.

You called the bank with a smile on your face to begin the wire transfer. Everything was set as you entered the details into the account on your laptop and spoke with the representative.

But of course, there was one thing holding the whole thing up. Mrs. Allen had to be there to verbally give the go-ahead to the man on the phone. You were not authorized.

So when she came back to the room and the payment wasn’t yet completed she was furious, “How can you mess up the simplest things, Y/n?”

“All you need to do is tell the man this wire transfer from your bank to the owner’s is authorized. You’re holding this up. Not her,” Harry spoke.

She pulled the cell phone from you with a sigh and spoke into the receiver as you smiled at Harry.

“There. It’s done.” She handed the phone to you and the transaction was finalized. Emails went out to all the parties involved in the sale with the receipt and you closed your laptop.

“Good. Now, have someone wrap this so I can bring it back without getting scratched.”

Harry nodded, “I’ll have Laira get someone for you and they’ll bring it to your car.”

Mrs. Allen looked at you and snapped her fingers, “You can go wait in the car for me. No need to have you standing around and gawking like an idiot.”

You stuffed your laptop into your bag and looked at Mrs. Allen, “Delia?” You made it a point to call her by her first name, which you knew she hated, “I quit. Working for you has been hell. You’ll go home without me as I’ve already made other arrangements. Tell Mr. Allen it was lovely to work for him. I’ll send him an email explaining why I quit tomorrow. Also, the agency won’t work with you again after I share details and proof of the way you treated me.”

Her mouth dropped open and the look of surprise on her face was quite hilarious as you pushed passed her with Harry following behind you.

You felt exhilarated and your heart was pumping blood through your body and your limbs rapidly as you smiled and made your way to the front of the gallery.

Harry kept in step with you as he waved at the girl at the desk, “Please help Mrs. Allen get the painting wrapped and put into her car. I’m done for the day. Call me if you need anything.”

You felt the warm air hit your cheeks when you stepped outside into the sun with Harry behind you.

“Y/n, I’m still kind of in disbelief that you’re here. I must be dreaming,” he turned toward you with a wide grin.

“I feel the same way. Like I’m just going to wake up and it’s all been a dream.”

“Pinch me,” he put his arm out and pushed his shirt sleeve up to his forearm, displaying the tattoos on his skin.

You laughed and put your thumb and pointer over his skin and gave him a good pinch and he let out a deep breath, “Do it again.”

You couldn’t stop the small chuckle that fell from your lips as you pinched him again and he grabbed the tops of your arms tightly, “Y/n I’ve missed you so much. I’ve wanted to talk to you so many times. I have so much to tell you.”

“Me too, Harry. There’s so much to say.”

He led you to his car and you both got inside. It felt so surreal to be climbing into Harry’s car with him, “Where would like to go eat?” He looked at you from the driver’s seat as he started up his car.

You shook your head, “I don’t know. Don’t care really.”

He nodded, “Yeah I don’t care either. Just as long as I get to go there with you. Okay, we’ll go to this spot I found some months ago. They have great crab cakes.”

When he pulled out to the street you looked at him, “New car then?”

He nodded, “Yeah. The lease came up on the other one and figured something different would be nice. I’ve had this for a few months.”

“And did you move?”

He licked his lips and glanced at you, “Yeah. Not long after you left. A lot has happened since you’ve been gone. I… did a lot of thinking about what I want in life and how I want to live it. The place was too big. Not sustainable for me any longer. Too expensive.”

“Really? That’s surprising.”

He breathed out through his nose as he nodded, “I stopped dealing with stolen items. It was dumb of me to get involved in all that in the first place. I never started off being an art dealer with the idea that I would be wealthy. It began because I genuinely love the art world and discovering new pieces. I lost that somewhere along the way and you leaving like you did remind me of what was important in life. Money is not all there is.”

You were surprised to hear this. It made you wonder what else had changed.

The restaurant was a small, hip-looking spot. You had both arrived before the dinner crowd, it was still a bit early for dinner, but to you, it didn’t matter. You were with Harry again and even though you weren’t quite sure what to expect things were going better than you imagined.

You and Harry were seated at a small round table for two by a big window looking out over the parking lot. It wasn’t fancy but it felt amazing to get face to face with him after all that time.

“Y/n, I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you look incredible. I know I said it already but I really missed you. I hope you and I can keep in touch after this. If that’s something you wanted. It would mean so much to me to be able to see you again.”

You picked at the corner of the laminated menu that had been placed on the table in front of you and looked up at him, “Harry, I missed you a lot too. I regretted the way I ended things. Moving away and blocking you. I thought it was the right thing to do. I deleted every part of you from my life and by the time I realized it was a mistake I didn’t have your contacts anymore,” you shook your head as you looked into his eyes, “I’m sorry I did it that way. I’m sorry for walking away from you.”

Harry reached across the table and put his hand over yours, “I’m glad you did. Y/n, I don’t know if I would have had the kind of self-reflection and epiphany I did if you’d stayed. But you leaving like that made me rethink everything I thought was important. Made me realize that dealing in the black market and jet-setting all over the world to do something that goes against my very core… I hated it. I hated you leaving but it opened my eyes.”

“So you really don’t do any of that anymore?”

He shook his head, “No. Now I bounce around from gallery to gallery to view pieces and check the legitimacy, the provenance. I work for myself still but now I’m not making as much money. Which is fine!” He laughed, dimples digging into his cheeks, “It’s better this way. I sleep better knowing I’m doing things right now.”

“Where do you live now?”

“Like twenty minutes from here. Bought a regular-sized house with a garage and an ugly entryway,” he grinned, “But I love it. I love it because it makes me feel happy. It’s not so much to maintain. Had to let go of all the staff I had but other than that, I haven’t missed the income as much as I thought I would.”

You were impressed with him. You never imagined he’d stop dealing in illegal items because you knew the money was so good.

The waiter stood at your table and you both told him what you’d like to drink. A sparkling water with lemon for you, and a hot black tea for him.

“So you were working for that woman. She’s awful. How long did you stay with her?”

You laughed and shook your head, “I worked for the Allens for just over seven months. Hated every minute of it. She only got worse as time went on. I thought once she got used to me she’d lighten up be she was truly evil. Would just talk down to me and blame me for everything that went wrong.”

“Why did you stay there for so long?”

“At first I stayed hoping it would get better. You know you kind of get into a groove and can look past bullshit and then everyone starts to get used to one another. But that never happened. I tried to stick it out. But then of course I needed the money too. Well, on some level. The security of having a job is nice and the rent at my new house is a lot more than what I paid at my apartment. Figured I’d wait for the right moment. Then about a month ago I found out that Delia wanted to buy this piece of art she’d been wanting and she was going to go through a dealer and I was just about to quit. I really was but,” you shrugged and smiled as you looked down at the menu, “Though it would be funny if maybe you were the dealer,” you brought your eyes back up to him.

He squinted, his brows pulling in as he looked at you, “You continued working for them when you thought maybe I was going to be the dealer on the sale? So you could see me?”

You nodded and smiled, “I mean. Sort of. I really didn’t think it was going to be you but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to just see. So I stuck it out. My plan was to quit the moment the deal was over. That’s why I was saying that at the gallery. It was like, one last thing, just to see if it was you and then I was done working for them.”

Harry laughed and pulled his lips into his mouth, shaking his head in amazement, “I can’t believe you wanted to see me. I was certain you were done and wanted nothing to do with me. I did go back to your apartment one day, maybe like two months later. But you’d already moved out. And you never responded to any of my texts or calls. Figured that was that. What made you want to see me?”

You tried not to feel bad how you ended things with him but it was hard not to, “I really did like you. It was just hard for me to admit how much. And then Brandy, my best friend, talked me into going to therapy. And honestly? Just talking about how I process things and my emotions with someone else helped me a ton. Helped me see how I self-sabotage. Anything that might make me happy, specifically romance, was a big block for me. I didn’t even realize it consciously. I think I knew I pushed people away when I didn’t need to. And I realized I did that with you.”

Harry nodded as he listened and the waiter placed your drinks down on the table before taking your orders for food.

It felt like you had so much to tell him and you could see Harry felt the same with everything he admitted to you. You loved listening to him and watching him as he spoke or the way he gazed at you as you recounted the last 9 months to him.

While so much did happen in those 9 months, you felt comfortable sitting at that small table talking to Harry about it all. Everything felt so familiar and nice with him. It felt like you were both exactly on the same page and this time around maybe you could really have something special with him. If he wanted the same thing as you.

“So you missed me? What did you miss about me?” Harry smirked at you as he took a scoop of the dessert you were both sharing.

“Hmm… I think I liked it when you were nice to me and vulnerable with me. Our late-night kitchen chats. How you took up for me with that one lady. And even today you did it again with Mrs. Allen. I think there were times when I hated you but mostly I liked you. And those things I missed.”

His smirk didn’t fall from his lips and it looked like he was holding back what he wanted to say.

“What? What’s that look?” You pointed your fork at him.

Harry laughed and looked down at the table before putting his eyes back on yours, “You didn’t miss… like my body or something?”

You laughed and grinned at him, “Oh my god, Harry,” you rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“I mean you have to admit, Y/n, we are very good together. Aren’t we? Like… just fit so well me and you.”

You inhaled and let your eyes trail over his features as you tried to keep the grin off your face.

“You’re insane.” You licked your lips.

“No, I’m not. You know it’s true. Tell me you’ve had better with anyone else and I’ll tell you you’re lying. You missed me but you also missed all those dirty little things I did to you.”

“You’re way too confident and cocky still,” you laughed.

“Am I?” His smile was something that always got you. The grin, the dimples, the crinkles at the edge of his eyes.

“What do you want me to say, Harry? That I missed little Styles down there?” You sputtered a laugh.

“Little? Is that what you’d call it?” He placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward closer to you, “You said otherwise when–“

“Anything else for you two?” The waiter broke the tension as Harry shot his eyes up to the man.

“I think we’ll take the check. Thank you.”

You laughed as the server walked away and Harry cocked his head with that smirk still plastered on his face.

The sun was beginning to go down as the check was laid on the table and you insisted on splitting it with Harry. He grumped about you paying anything at all but you weren’t taking no for an answer.

You were surprised you’d been at the restaurant for so long. Hours had gone by but it didn’t feel that long because you two had so much to talk about. So much lost time to make up for.

“So where do you live, Y/n? Should I drop you off at home?”

You bit your lip and shrugged, “Not too far from here. Off Coalfax and the interstate. Do you want to drop me off?”

Harry’s smile softened, “I don’t want to drop you off. No. I want to continue this. I’m not ready for you to disappear again.”

Swallowing you reached your hand toward his and rubbed your fingers over his knuckles, “Then you don’t have to drop me off. Come with me. I’ll invite you in.”

Harry stood up quickly, taking your hand in his as you both walked to the exit and toward his car. You laughed as he pulled you along.

“Coalfax? Just North of here?” He spoke as he started up his car.

“Yeah. Exactly. You’ll take a right on Coalfax. I’ll tell you where to go.”

Harry kept glancing at you and the smile on his face stayed throughout the entire drive. You were sure he was feeling the kind of excitement you had bubbling in your tummy. Still not quite sure of what to expect but nearly certain of what could happen.

Maybe you were jumping in too fast but maybe… just maybe the timing was exactly right. You couldn’t tell but you weren’t going to let yourself overthink it. That wasn’t going to happen with you anymore. You already regretted too much of what had happened with Harry and this time would be different.

Harry parked his car on the street in front of your small house and you both walked up to your door, “You’ve still got the same car,” he noted.

“Yup. Runs well. No payment other than insurance. Cheap maintenance. I love the old thing. Hope I never have to get rid of it.”

Harry followed behind you through your front door and you switched on the light before you felt his hand tugging at yours.

You turned to face him and the reality of everything was clear suddenly. You’d reconnected with Harry. The one man you couldn’t stop thinking about. Couldn’t stop replaying his words to you, couldn’t stop imagining the way he kissed you and took care of you.

“I can’t believe you’re standing here in my living room,” you smiled at him and Harry shook his head.

“I can’t believe I’m here either. I can’t believe I’m looking at you and that you were there today and…” he swallowed as he squeezed your hand, “I don’t want to scare you off, Y/n, but you have no idea how happy I am right now. How this all feels like destiny. Like we were meant to be here right now.”

You laughed through your nose, “I don’t really believe in stuff like that, but it doesn’t kind of feel that way, doesn’t it? Like another chance.”

He nodded, “Another chance. Exactly.”

“Do you want to sit? Or would you like some wine?”

Harry looked around the space of your living room. He hadn’t taken his surroundings in until then as he was too focused on you.

“Maybe a glass of wine. If it’s not too much trouble.”

You grinned, “Of course it’s not. Come. It’s in the kitchen.”

The light flickered on overhead as you flipped the switch and then opened your cabinet to retrieve the bottle of wine and two glasses.

“Y/n, this place is really nice. I like it.” Harry looked around as he spoke.

“I like it too. It’s why I moved here. Felt like home when I walked in to view it for the first time. It’s just a rental but it’s perfect for me.”

You placed the bottle on the counter and handed him a glass of wine.

Harry held his glass up, “Thank you for inviting me in and for humoring me with your kindness.”

You laughed, “Humoring you? Harry, I am fully genuine right now. I wanted to have dinner with you and I wanted you to come into my home. I’m not just being nice. I want you here.”

“I like hearing that.”

You both took a sip of your wine as Harry kept his eyes on you.

It was warm. Searing hot in fact. Harry was gorgeous and he was in your house and he was looking at you with those green eyes that had looked at you so many times before.

“Have you…” He paused as he placed his glass down and cleared his throat, “Have you seen anyone since? Like dated? Are you dating?”

You laughed at the way he fumbled his words. He seemed nervous suddenly, “No. I haven’t.” You placed your own glass down and suddenly felt that flutter of nerves, “And… I’m a little nervous to ask you the same.” You raised your brows at him.

He shook his head, “No.”

You nodded, “Surprised to hear that. But relieved I have to admit.”

“Why are you surprised?”

“Because I thought you’d have your pick. In fact even today when I thought there was a chance I might see you, felt like it was silly because surely you’d moved on and found someone.”

Harry’s brows stitched together, “I had a hard time feeling okay after that day when I left your apartment. Have actually never been so depressed and distraught over anyone before. I couldn’t just move on. Even when I started to feel a little better about it all. I just missed you so much. I know you blocked me on every platform out there. I got the hint when you didn’t text or call back. But I still missed you.”

You smiled, “And you’re not on social media at all. I did look but I kind of felt like if I did find you it wouldn’t have been good for me. I know I could have tried harder to reach out. I think I was a little scared of what I’d find.”

“What did you think you’d find?”

“That you were dating someone. I don’t know.”

The air shifted when Harry brought his hand up to your chin and gently gripped your face, “You’re the only woman I’ve had my mind on all these months. The only one I could ever think about. I don’t want anyone else.”

Your lips parted and you blinked your eyes as you took in his words.

“Do you understand what I mean? I don’t know if you feel the same way about me but just to know that you missed me and want me to be here with you right now means everything to me.”

“I don’t want anyone else either, Harry.”

“Does that mean you want me? I just need to hear it if it’s true, Y/n.”

You gulped and nodded, “Yeah. I do.”

The hand that held your chin released you and moved around to the back of your neck while his other hand landed on your hip and he pressed his lips to yours.

At last. At last.

You closed your eyes and drew your hands up to the back of his neck and moaned as he opened his mouth and you opened yours. Lips winding and smearing and pushing…

It felt like you were looking down at yourself, watching as you kissed Harry in your kitchen. And it was a beautiful sight. The two of you joined, grasping onto the other, hearts thrashing in your chests, bodies alight.

Harry’s grip on your side tightened, his fingers pinching around your clothes. The hand at the back of your neck squeezing and holding you in place as his lips slid against yours

You allowed yourself to be pulled in closer and moved your hand into his curls. You missed his scent. You missed his touch. His warmth. His care.

He parted from the kiss and moved his hand to your jaw, “Can we start over? This time, Y/n, you’re not going to regret it. This is it for us. Understand me?”

His words were almost a threat. Or maybe a promise. Both perhaps.

“Yes, Harry. I’m not going to regret it this time. I promise.”

He nodded, still holding you close, and then softly ghosted his lips over yours, “Because I can’t lose you again. I want this with you.”

You were gonna lose it. Everything was too much and not enough. You wanted him and you wanted to go slow but you wanted to tear his clothes off and feel him all over.

“I want you, Harry,” you breathed out against his lips as you clung to him, “I want this with you.”

You felt the vibration of his moan against your mouth as he dropped his lips to your chin and then along the curve of your jaw. When his lips pressed into the skin on your neck you gasped and hugged him tighter. His mouth drew your flesh in as he sucked a spot and then lowered to the curve of your shoulder and neck, suckling again at the skin where you knew it would be bruised.

“Fuck…” he whispered as he pressed his nose against your jaw, “Where’s your bedroom, Y/n?”

That was easy. The house was small. You led him down the hallway to your bedroom where you turned on your lamp and he began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Take your clothes off.”

You were surprised by his sudden command but you didn’t want to ask questions. The only thing you wanted was him and his hands and his body…

You pulled off your top before unzipping your skirt and kicking it down your legs. Harry’s eyes were dark as he continued taking his clothes off while he watched you undress.

When you were only in your underwear and bra he pointed, “Off. All of it.”

You swallowed and did as he said. Taking your bra off first and then your panties slowly as you used your bed to keep balance.

Harry was left in only his boxer briefs as he stalked toward you like a predator. You’d seen him in action before, you’d seen him a little dominant but this was different. It was like he had something to prove.

“On the bed, Y/n.”

You gave him a curt nod and sat down before scooting back into your bed. He climbed between your legs and moved your thighs apart, “You want this right? You want me? Want us?” He looked at you.

You nodded, “Yes, Harry. I do.”

That seemed like all he needed to know before he finally placed his lips on your chubby thigh, dotting wet kisses down and toward the soft inside near to your crotch and then he switched to the other side, kissing upward gently as he looked at you and then gripped the back of your thighs to push your legs apart, switching his sight from your face to your pussy.

“Y/n I missed everything about you,” he lowered himself, putting his stomach down onto your bed as he held himself over your core, “I know I only had you twice like this but I missed your body. Your smell,” he let go of your left leg as he pressed his fingers onto your mound and slowly dragged them downward, “The way your thighs part and how your skin looks right here,” he pressed a kiss over the spot right next to your labia.

But then he pushed himself up and climbed over you releasing your leg, his hands finding your breasts, “Your perfect tits,” his lips wrapped around your nipple, tongue laving over your sensitive bud and kissing over your soft skin toward your other side, lapping at your plush breasts before dragging his mouth upward to your neck, “Your skin, your voice,” hot peppered kisses up to your jaw until his mouth met yours again.

“Your mouth, this mouth,” he licked against your lips and pushed his mouth against the edge of yours and ran his nose against yours, “You. I missed you. Everything. Your heart and your laugh. I can’t do it again. I can’t go through that again.”

You felt his hands on your face, cupping your cheeks as he looked down at you, “Don’t leave me. Not ever again.”

You shook your head and lifted a hand up to his jaw, “Never. I don’t want to, Harry. I won’t.”

He grinned dreamily at you, his eyes wandering over your features slowly before he lowered himself down your body again, pressing his shoulders to the back of your thighs, and hooked his arms underneath to keep you in place.

The moment you felt his mouth on your core you clenched your eyelids closed and sighed. It had meant so much to you to have him loving on you, touching you, needing you. And Harry was the only man who’d ever worked an orgasm out of you with his mouth.

And even then, his tongue dragging through your pussylips and up to your clit, over and over again in a teasing, slow build it had you unwinding and unfolding for him. You wanted to give yourself to him fully. And that felt so good.

It felt good to trust yourself for once. To allow yourself to trust him. You could push past your feelings of inadequacy and thinking that no one would actually want you for you. Because that was a lie. You had been lying to yourself for so long and even though you knew it was your own hangup, it was hard to get past it. Until now. Because now you weren’t going to undermine yourself anymore. You learned it was okay to question motives but that it was also okay to accept kindness and love where it was offered.

You felt as he applied open-mouthed kisses to your clit and finally began to push over it, the pressure and the slide of his tongue right where you needed him had you moaning. Had you getting his face all wet.

Harry’s mouth and tongue worked at you strategically; slow teases of a gentle lap at your bud and then a harsh suck and flick to make you shiver. Every wet drag of his muscle against your clit drew you closer to your end as you gave in to the feeling.

And just like the other times he’d eaten you out you reached down to push your fingers into his hair and arched your back into him as a signal for him to keep doing exactly what he was doing. And he seemed to understand your nonverbal cue as he dug in and continued lapping and sucking exactly like you liked.

He watched your tits wobble and your body jerk and convulse as he kept his mouth suctioned to your pussy with his tongue wagging and slicking over your puffy clit until he felt you pressing his head down further and you coughed out a loud groan when your thighs started to shake.

His moans into your pussy vibrated through to your guts and it felt like you were going to explode.

“Fuck, Harry!” You were grinding yourself into his mouth and nose as you felt your release snap and you lost control of your volume and the sound of your voice and your limbs as he held you down so he could press broad strokes of his tongue over your pussy back and forth.

Harry closed his eyes and let you use his face and mouth to grind your clit on as you orgasmed. His cock was so hard; just tasting you and hearing your gasps and pleas of need had him spinning in the clouds. It made him happy to hear how good he was making you feel.

And that’s what he wanted the most. Was to make you happy. He wanted your smiles and laughter. He wanted you to enjoy his company and to feel happy with him. He wanted your heart and your soul and everything that made you who you were because he’d already decided he’d give you everything he could. His heart was yours already.

Ever since that day you kicked him out of your apartment, he hadn’t stopped thinking about all the things he did wrong. How childish he’d been with you. He hadn’t meant to fuck up so badly but he would make sure that his old ways were in the past. Now he was yours and he would prove to you that you could trust him.

When you gently released his hair and pushed yourself up to look at him he lifted with a grin, “Felt good?” His mouth and chin were glistening with you.

You laughed and nodded as you watched him slide his underwear down his sturdy thighs and toss them onto the floor. His body was even better than before. You weren’t sure why. Maybe he’d been hitting the gym harder. Or maybe it was just that now things were different. And you were seeing him in a different light. Looking at him in a way that you never had before. But you were still focused on his strong build and dark tattoos as well. That glorious cock, bobbing and heavy was all yours. You loved the way he felt inside of you and how perfect it looked hanging between his thighs like it was.

You sat up and got to your knees to adjust yourself and laid a palm on his thigh as you looked at him and licked your lips. He understood your hint as you moved your hand up toward his cock and he looked down at your fingers before placing his hand over yours, “We’ll do that later. Plenty of time to get to all that. I just want to make love to you, Y/n.”

“But you ate me out. I should at least–“

“No. Later,” he got to his knees and pushed you gently back to your bottom, “You don’t understand. I can’t wait one more second to be inside of you. We’ll have plenty of time for that other stuff but I haven’t had sex since in 9 months. If you put your mouth anywhere near my cock it’s gonna make me come too fast. A little out of practice,” he smiled with a small laugh as you laid your back into the mattress and he settled himself between your legs, hips tucking against yours.

You could feel his rigid, girthy cock slide through your labia as he rolled his hips down and up, wetting his shaft, “Want to fuck you now. Okay?”

You moaned and nodded. It was okay by you. You knew there’d be time for blowjobs later so you didn’t mind having him inside your cunt, stuffing you to the brim like you knew he would. There was plenty of time for all that, now that you weren’t going to be running off from him again.

“Want this cock, honey?” He continued rocking his hips. Sliding himself up and down, the tip of his cock collecting your arousal and pushing it up to your clit.

“Yes, Harry. Please.” You bucked upward to catch him at your entrance but he pressed your hip down and grinned at you playfully.

“Love hearing you say please. Such a good girl for me.”

You groaned when he wouldn’t push in right away, still teasing you with the drag of his thick shaft up and down through your labia and against your clit. The sound of it was lewd. Filthy.

“Please fuck me!” You whined.

Harry paused his motions, keeping his eyes on yours as he reared back and took his base in his palm to line himself up to your hole. He kept one hand on the inside of your thigh as he began to press himself inward slowly, the snap of his bulbous head entering you and pushing through your walls was the first act of confirming everything.

Confirming that this was it. That now you were connected and there was no turning back. That all the promises spoken were sealed.

You both kept your eyes pinned on one another as he bottomed out, balls tucked against your ass with a whimper from his mouth and a deep sigh of relief.

He slowly pulled back before inching his way back into the hilt and repeated his languid strokes as your wet pussy blossomed and opened wide for his girth until he was rocking down into you with a force that had your tits bouncing and harsh breaths punching from your lungs.

Harry’s strong abs clenched as his thighs flexed, working into you, exacting strokes deep into your cunt and skin colliding every time you felt the dip of his crown nudging into your tummy.

He sat back to his haunches, knees bent with the back of your thighs draped over the top of his. He watched as he sunk into you and pulled back to his tip, his shaft glistening and coated in you before he thrust back in until you were gasping and reaching for his arms to keep yourself grounded. To remind yourself of who’s cock was fucking you so good.

“Love this pussy, Y/n. You take me so well. So fucking juicy and plush,” he pounded into you, putting everything he had into it, muscles working and pushing him further and further as you bounced upward on the mattress every time he crashed into you.

“Hear that, baby?” Harry used a hand to squeeze at your tit, “Your bed squeaking, your pussy creamy and wet around me, those desperate whimpers from these pretty lips?” He pushed his hand up to your mouth, pressing his thumb to your bottom lip.

You moaned in response and nodded as you stitched your brows together in bliss.

“That’s right. That’s the sound of me fucking you and we’re gonna do it again and again and again. Yeah?” He spoke through clenched teeth.

You nodded, “Fuck! Yes, Harry!” Your words were punched from your lungs as he continued railing ito you, his hips rocking against yours.

Your whole being was lit up. From your racing mind to your tingling skin and toes, the bones that kept you solid, your pumping heart, and your pussy gripping onto Harry’s fat cock as he slid into you, back and forth, bumping through your inside walls into that hard-to-reach little dip that had you breathless.

Every stroke he gave you put you closer and closer to your second orgasm. The delicious emergence and unraveling of your end made you delirious.

When he leaned himself over you he thrust down harshly, pushing your thighs wider apart, the sound gushy and slick as he drove into you. You could feel his cock sliding through your guts and his pelvis grinding against your clit making you quiver.

“Oh my god…” you panted as you reached up for his shoulders where you could feel the taught muscle keeping himself up and aligned as he fucked into you, your back digging into the mattress underneath.

“Yeah? Feels good huh? Told you we fit together perfectly. Pussy deserves to be filled and stuffed every day. Want you to feel so good, baby…”

“It’s so fucking good,” your whimpered words were shaky and breathy.

“I know baby… So good… gonna give it to you every fucking day like this. Make love to you and treat you like a queen. Be so good to you…” his strained words were breathy as he was feeling the heat with you.

His lips pressed into yours and your brain short-circuited as you fell into that hazy, floaty space of ecstasy and need. Need for Harry and his body and his heart. Need for happiness with him. The need to feel happiness with someone you could trust.

When you sucked on his tongue and he rocked into you, keeping his hips smoothe against yours you began to whine and moan as your orgasm approached.

But then Harry stopped. He pulled back from the kiss and looked down at you with that evil grin you’d seen before and you gasped at the loss. You had just been on the cusp of coming.

He quickly pulled out as his own chest was rising and falling rapidly, his cock swayed and you pushed yourself up to see what was happening before he grabbed your sides and rolled you over to your tummy.

“Harry!” You yelped at the sudden maneuver and felt his palm land harshly on your bum. And then again and again. You jumped and crooned out as he issued your ass a handful of spankings to each side and then heard him moan when he kneaded into the meat of your bottom as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You suddenly felt him pushing your legs apart and fitting himself between them as he forced his hard cock back into your wet pussy, his heavy tip pushing past your small opening and you gasped at the suddenness of it all.

You moaned at the relief of finally having him tucked back inside. He slid through you smoothly, his hands holding your ass cheeks apart as he worked himself in over and over. You had your face smushed into the blankets as you sighed.

His hips rocked against your ass and you could feel him swiveling himself in every time his balls pressed into your skin, grounding himself deep through your tummy. The sounds he was making had you grinning. It felt just as good for him. He needed your body for relief. You were happy to let him get whatever he needed from you.

Slow languid strokes of his long cock, splitting you open with every thrust felt so good. It reminded you of how big he really was. How bulky and long his cock was as it disappeared inside of you and nudged its way into your depths.

“Stick your fingers over your clit, Y/n. Go on baby.”

You gurgled a moan and lifted your hips slightly to allow your right hand access to your pussy. And it was more relief. The feel of it all coming together was perfection. His fat cock taking up every inch of your insides, his tip crashing through your guts, the weight of him behind you and fucking you into the mattress, and your fingers on your clit, slipping and pressing…

Harry gave himself a moment to bask in the view of his cock spreading your vagina apart. He dragged a thumb over the spot where he was fucking into you, feeling himself move in and out, watching your pussy wrapped around him, glistening wet until he felt his balls tightening and constricting and your walls clamping down over him.

He could see your hips moving faster as you ground over your hand to get to your orgasm but then he pulled at your hand, moving your fingers away from your clit and you felt his chest against your back and his lips against the shell of your ear as he mumbled something you couldn’t quite hear.

It caught you off guard. The second denial of your orgasm. You angled your neck to try and turn toward him, “Harry, what?”

You felt him press his cock in hard, hips stilling against your ass, his lips pressed over your ear, “Put your fingers back on your clit but don’t move them til I say.”

In confusion, you slid your hand back to your core and he continued, “Good.”

He reared back and then thrust forward again, “Do you want to come, Y/n? Wanna come on my cock?”

You moaned a yes as you secretly slid a finger across your bud making you shiver.

“Then tell me you’re mine. Say you’re mine, Y/n, and I’ll let you come.”

You had no hesitation in telling him just that, “Harry I’m yours. I’m yours…”

“My girl. That’s right. Rub your pussy, baby. Get yourself off,” his breathy words were warm over your ear and neck as you began to slip your fingers back and forth to get you back to that spot that would have you tipping over the edge.

Then you felt Harry shift behind, his chest no longer pressed into your back as he started pounding into you, “Fucking come, baby. You’re mine now…”

You grinned in elation at his words and the way he sounded totally fucked out himself. Much like the way you were feeling. Like he was out of his mind with lust for you.

Every smack of his hips into your bum had you jolting up and you ground down into your hand, rolling your clit over whatever you could reach when you started to feel that melting, unraveling sensation. The electrical charge that made your pussy quiver and your back arch and your vision go white.

“There it is! Fuck!” Harry’s thrusts were harsh but every stroke felt like a sparking and exhilarating charge going through your body. His tip plunged into your cervix and fingers gripped your bottom harshly as you heard him choke out a loud moan.

“Gonna fill you fill you up baby… fuck… stuff you with my come…”

You could hardly hear your bed creaking and clanking as your ears began to ring and you gushed around Harry, your walls spasming and constricting around him tightly.

He moved into you, gliding in and out until finally his balls squeezed and pumped sperm through his cock directly into your wet hole. He stilled his hips as he whimpered a groan, throwing his neck back with his mouth dropped open, his cock throbbing inside of you, coating your walls with his come.

It seemed to last forever. He moaned and twitched, his body connected and pressed into yours as he drained every bit of himself into you. He pressed inward further, stuffing your pussy with his come, making sure every bit of it seeped through your cunt and soaked your insides.

He hadn’t had sex in 9 months. Jerking himself off didn’t do it like the real thing and when it was with you it was even better. The best. He hadn’t come so hard ever in his life he was certain as his body flushed in heat and his heart thudded wildly in his chest when he crumpled over your back, tucking his arms around you and kissing your neck softly.

You moaned quietly at the feel of him on your back. The post-orgasm glow was never so good before. It felt like you were in a different realm of existence, floating and glowing in bliss.

“You’re mine, Y/n?” He wanted reassurance. Which was understandable after the way you handled things the first time around. But this time was going to be different. You two were starting over again. This time with a better understanding of what the other needed, with a better understanding of yourself and what each of you needed to do to be a good partner. Things were different this time.

Harry pushed himself up and looked down at his sensitive cock still inside of you. He drew himself back and watched as his creamy come leaked from your hole and he pressed himself back inside. You felt him pumping himself in and out shallowly and turned your head to look at him. His eyes were glued to your cunt where he was fucking his come back inside of you. A natural urge he couldn’t deny.

When his eyes found yours and he finally pulled himself out, he helped you roll to your side as he laid next to you, his hand on your cheek and you placed your palm on his chest, “I’m yours, Harry. I was back then too I just didn’t realize it. Couldn’t admit it. But I’m yours.”

You both smiled at one another. His eyes were bright and clear and you could trust him. You knew you could. He made you feel so comfortable about yourself. Made you feel like you could make him happy and that he’d want to stick around for you. That he would make you happy in return.

He took your hand and pressed it harder over his chest, “I’m yours too. I was since the day I first met you. I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful, Y/n. And I’m not letting go of you again.”

You grinned and pushed yourself up to his mouth to kiss him. You felt his palm slide down your side and to your bum, as he squeezed you, causing a laugh to puff out from your lips against his.

“Sorry, I love your ass. Feels so good in my hands. Just wanna bite it and stuff my face against it. Can’t help it.”

You rolled your eyes at him still grinning but when he swatted at your bottom your mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young lady. When I tell you I love your ass, I fucking mean it.” He gave you another good squeeze to emphasize his words.

So you slid your hand down to his nipple and squeezed at it, “And I love your nipples and these tits,” you laughed.

Harry’s wide grin and dimples were suddenly hidden when he nuzzled his face into your neck and you heard him inhale deeply.

The afterglow with him was something out of a romance novel. It was beautiful and precious. Almost too good to be true.

The sound of a cellphone ringing had both you and Harry lifted out of the sweet moment. He sat up, “It’s me.”

He hopped out of your bed and you watched as he crouched down to his pants where his phone was in his back pocket. His strong back flexing as he pulled it out and then stood up to answer the call.

“Hello?”

You frowned as you watched him disappear into your hallway, still nude. Turning to look at the clock on your side table you noted that it was paste 10 pm. You wondered who was calling at the late hour. Couldn’t have been work. What could be so important that he had to leave your side after he’d just given you the best orgasm of your life?

“I’ll be there! I’m booking a flight as soon as I get off the phone. Yes..”

You could hear him pacing and talking. You picked up most of what he said as you sat silently on your bed waiting for him to return and explain himself.

“I missed you too. I can’t wait to finally meet her. I know. Me too.”

You slid off your bed and pulled a t-shirt from your drawer to put it over your body as he ended the call with an I love you.

Harry walked back into your room with a huge grin, “My sister just had her baby!”

You smiled at him widely as he took three long-legged steps toward you, his cock swaying as he was still completely naked before he wrapped you in a tight hug, “Today is like the best day I’ve ever had. First you,” he kissed your cheek, “Now my sister...”

You laughed when he twirled around with you and then he let go, a sudden look of realization on his face, “Come with me to London. I want everyone to meet you!”

You blinked your eyes and stuttered your words, “Are you serious?”

He grabbed your hands, “Dead serious. Come with me. It’s not like you have to ask off for work. We can go for a couple of weeks. God, it’d be so fun, Y/n. Me and you… My mom’s going to love you.”

Your head was spinning from everything that had happened that day. From the moment Harry walked into that room at the gallery to now having him standing naked in your bedroom asking you to take a trip with him to see his family and his sister’s new baby. But, spinning or not, there was no part of you that would turn down the offer.

“That sounds amazing. I’d love to, Harry.”

He pulled you in for another hug and pressed his face into your neck, “This is going to be so good, Y/n.”

You laughed as he squeezed you tight and then his hands cupped your cheeks, “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, and then we’ll book our flights. Yeah?”

You nodded as your cheeks burned hot when he pressed his mouth to yours again.

It was a funny thing to you. That the first time you had sex with Harry the post-orgasm afterglow was interrupted by a phone call. And this time another phone call had broken the moment too. Except things were not the same as they were then. Now you knew who Harry was. You trusted him and this time everything was going to be different.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this!! xoxo

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[therealcocoshady]

Football season - Commission

Author’s Note : Hi guys ! It’s been a while since I last posted something 😉. It is my great pleasure to share this little one shot that was commissioned to me on my Ko-Fi page 💕. I still take requests via Asks but Ko-Fi commissions are prioritized 😉.

Also, thank you to anyone who tips & commissions. It means a lot to a struggling PhD student 💕.

Enjoy !

Football season had officially started and to say you were disappointed was an understatement. You thought you’d enjoy watching games with Marshall in the comfort of your living room, resting on his lap and cuddle with him, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. There was nothing cute or romantic. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It involved grown men yelling in your living room, screaming at the players on TV, spilling food everywhere. You could have turned a blind eye if Marshall had made any effort to make it up to you but… no. Your weekly date night had been replaced by football night and, though at first you had decided to make peace with it, you were fed up. He could have included you in this whole thing but the only time you had tried to watch the game with him and his friends, you had made the cardinal mistake of asking some clarification about the rules, only to be shushed by your man. So, whenever the guys came over (which means whenever they were not actually at the stadium), you retreated to another room after greeting them. You still tried to make an effort and ask Marshall how it went whenever he went to find you after the game, but you weren’t really interested. You had gone a whole six weeks without going on a single date and you felt neglected. Maybe you should have expected this. Maybe being taken for granted happens after moving in together with the man you love. Maybe every woman in America has to put up with something similar. Except you weren’t every woman in America. You were the one and only woman who managed to capture the heart of Marshall Mathers, who already had to put up with a lot, and who deserved a whole lot better than this. You knew your worth and, if Marshall needed to be reminded of who he was living with, you would happily do it.

- Hey pretty girl, he said lovingly as you walked down the stairs in one of your prettiest dresses that you knew he loved. Where are you going dressed like this ?

- On a date, you said casually as you pecked his cheek. Have fun with the guys today.

- Date ? What date ? He asked with a raised eyebrow.

- The one my boyfriend will not take me on, you shrugged.

With these words, you left the room before he could even reply. If he didn’t want to take you out, fine. You were a grown woman and you were determined to give yourself what you deserved. In this case, a nice meal in your favorite fancy restaurant, some retail therapy and even a spa session. You were worth it. Sure, not everyone in your household seemed to know it, but you absolutely refused to let it undermine you. So you had the loveliest day by yourself, enjoying the absence of grown men yelling at some football players, as if they could do better on the field. The people you saw at the restaurant were dressed normally and you didn’t have to do put up with corny football apparel. And as you tried on dresses in your favorite store, you purposefully avoided the one in a shade of blue that reminded you of the Detroit Lions logo. You ended up treating yourself to a new dress, a cute lingerie set and a new handbag you’d been eyeing for a while. You ended the day with a trip to your favorite spa where you got a massage. Your whole « date with yourself » was insanely relaxing, and all frustration was gone when you walked back in the house, carrying your bags. As soon as you opened the door, Marshall came to greet you and took the bags from your hands so that you wouldn’t have to carry them. The whole house was clean and calm. A far cry from the usual mess on game night, when his friends would often stay late.

- Where’s everyone ? You asked.

- Sent them home after the game, he said with a smile.

- Did the team lose ?

- Nope, he replied. We won. But I figured we could use a night just the two of us. So that I can make it up to you for being a bad boyfriend.

You cupped his cheek and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

- It’s fine, you shrugged.

- It’s not, he said. I don’t want you to think I’m taking you for granted. I got a little carried away with football and I know it’s on me for missing date night but… I miss you, babe.

- I miss you too, you cooed as he pulled you in a hug.

- How was your date with yourself ? He asked. Did you have a good time ?

- I did, you said with a smile. Did some shopping, went to a nice restaurant and even got a massage. I’m good company.

- This, I know, he chuckled.

- The date was so good I’d deserve to seal the deal, you grinned.

- Oh really ? He asked with a smirk.

- Yes, you hummed. Definitely taking myself to bed and getting some.

- Any way I can get an invite ? He asked lovingly as he cupped your ass.

- Do you think you deserve one ? You giggled.

He smiled and kissed you before leading you to the living room. A huge bouquet of your favorite flowers was standing on the coffee table, and he had prepared a small set up with your favorite snacks and drinks in front of the TV, complete with some cute candles.

- I though we could have a little date night, he suggested. Unless you-

- It’s just perfect, you cooed.

- How about your show me what you bought, doll ? He suggested.

You grabbed the bags and showed him your purchases. You ended up trying on the dress for him and showing him the bag.

- What’s in that box ? He asked as he pointed to the only thing you hadn’t shown him yet.

- Lingerie, you hummed.

- Don’t you want to show me ? He asked innocently.

- Not sure you deserve it just yet, you grinned.

He chuckled and you could see in his eyes that he relished the challenge. He was the most competitive person you knew. You should have known he’d take it this way. Still, you made sure to playfully roll your eyes. The two of you ended up lounging on the couch, watching a movie. Marshall even let you choose, and you happily put on a crappy chick flick, your guilty pleasure. You were cuddling, curled up on his side while he played with the hem of your new dress, not really paying attention to the movie.

- You’re so pretty, he whispered. I’m the luckiest man on earth.

- Glad you finally recognize it, you grinned.

- I love the guys but, frankly, game night doesn’t compare to this, he continued as he buried his face in your neck before placing a kiss there.

You let out a soft giggle and enjoyed the warmth of his embrace while you focused on the movie. With each passing minute, he held you a little closer and, eventually, you ended up on his lap, munching on popcorn while he stroked your thigh, his fingers going higher and higher as time went on.

- Marshall, you lightly scolded.

- But you’re so pretty, he whispered. And your skin is so soft.

- I blame the body oil they used for the message, you hummed.

- I could have given you a massage if you’d asked, he grinned.

- Right, you chortled.

- Don’t believe me ? He asked.

- You would have taken advantage, you hummed. Can’t keep your hands to yourself.

- How can I be expected to, when you’re so beautiful ? He asked before mouthing at your neck from behind.

You let out a sight of satisfaction and you could feel smile against your skin. How could you be expected to stay mad at him when he was being so adorable ? He kept on stroking your thigh, while one of his hand gently cupped your boob, thumb grazing over your nipple. You let out a small moan, unable to hide your pleasure.

- How could I neglect you like this, love ? He whispered. Gotta make it up to you, yeah ?

- Yeah, you said breathily.

His hand that was on your thigh traveled higher to go and cup your pussy over the lace of your panties, as he kept on fondling your boob.

- Marsh-… th-the movie, you said unconvincingly.

- Keep watching, babe, I got you, he said seductively.

Before you could say anything, he got up and let you settle in the couch, before kneeling between your legs and removing your panties.

- Let me make it up to you, he pleaded.

You nodded and he bunched your dress up to your waist, getting a better access to your pussy that was already throbbing with anticipation. Without a second of hesitation, he buried his face between your legs and began eating you out, gently exploring your folds with his tongue. You were so comfortable, resting against the couch pillows, your head against the headrest, all you had to do was to enjoy the moment and, boy, did he make it enjoyable. He took his sweet time, as if he was enjoying a gourmet meal, softly teasing your clit. His hands were on your thighs, keeping them apart, fingers gently digging into your skin. You watched him from above, enjoying how focused he was, eyes closed, dedicating himself to it, to you. You ran your hand in his hair, prompting him to keep going, which he happily did. His tongue was soft against your bud, sending shivers in your whole body. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the heavenly sensation of your man pleasuring you.

- I love you, you whimpered.

He hummed, sending vibrations against your pussy, making you moan. You could feel your own wetness, only increased by his saliva. He gently inserted a finger in you and you almost felt relieved. You abandoned yourself to the sweet sensation and, soon enough, upon seeing how wet you were, he added another one, gently curling them so that they’d hit that sweet spot that made you see stars. You couldn’t hold your mewls, the combination of him sucking on your clit and fingering you at the same time making you feel ecstatic. You tightened the grip on his head, unconsciously praying he wouldn’t stop, and this prompted him to quicken the pace of his fingers. You could feel your toes curl and pleasure tickle your body as your breathing accelerated, your climax being near. Your heard yourself beg for relief and Marshall happily obliged, making you cry tears of euphoria. You could feel him smile against your pussy and he placed a kiss on your inner thigh before getting up and kissing you. You were all zoned out, the couch having turned into a cloud. He chuckled as soon as he saw your face and he gently cupped your cheek, admiring the glow the orgasm gave you.

- I’m so in love with you, he said.

- I love you, you cooed. Do you want me to-

- I’m good, love, he replied with a smile. It’s all about you.

You hummed before shivering a bit, making him chuckle. He always made fun of how you were always cold after having an orgasm. He grabbed one of his hoodies that was nearby and handed it to you. You kissed him lovingly as a thank you and decided to go change, putting a PJ short, a tank top and his hoodie. When you got back to the living room, he gestured for you to sit in his lap and you cuddled while watching what was left of the movie. Evidently, you hadn’t paid a lot of attention to what was on screen. You tried to catch up, enjoying Marshall’s arms around you. There was what you missed about date night : time set aside just for the two of you, his warm presence and his intoxicating cologne. You didn’t need much. When the movie ended, he led you to the bedroom and you laid in bed while he undressed, only keeping his boxers on. You couldn’t help but stare as he removed his tee-shirt, revealing his perfect chest, toned abs and muscular pecs. You’d been together for a while but every single time you saw this man undress, you found yourself to be under his spell.

- Your parents never told you you shouldn’t stare ? He grinned.

- I wouldn’t stare if the view wasn’t worthy, you said innocently.

- You say it as if you weren’t a fucking art piece yourself, he scoffed.

- Right, you chortled.

- I mean it, he replied with a smile as he joined you in bed and pulled you to him. You are stunning. I love you in my hoodies.

- I do love wearing them, you admitted.

He smiled and kissed your temple before turning the lights off and pulling you to him once again, absolutely refusing for there to be any distance between your bodies.

- Thanks for tonight, you whispered as you buried your face in his neck. I missed having you all to myself.

- I’m sorry I got caught up in work and football, he said. I’ll do better. I didn’t realize you were so pissed.

- Ok, you said softly. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be all dramatic when I left. I was just annoyed. But tonight made it better.

- I’m glad, he replied with a smile you could hear. I’m sorry.

- Stop apologizing, you giggled. I’ve already forgiven you.

- Yeah. Sorr-

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh as you turned and kissed him so that he’d shut up. You could feel his lips twitching into a grin as he kissed you back. What started as a soft peck quickly turned into a hot and steamy make out session and it didn’t take long for Marshall’s hands to wander under his hoodie, stroking the warm skin in your back. You were straddling him and you could feel his bulge against your clad pussy (though the fabric definitely wasn’t too thick). You started to grind slowly, earning a groan and a sigh of pleasure. He gently bit your lower lip and you ground a little harder against his hardness. He was quick to remove both your (his) hoodie and your tank top, his hands finding their way to your front, cupping your breasts, gently teasing your nipples. He sat up, firmly keeping you in place, so that he was able to suck on your tit, making you whimper as you kept dry humping him.

- Need you, you whispered breathily.

A couple of seconds later, your shorts and his boxers were on the floor and you were lowering yourself onto him, feeling your pussy stretching, adjusting to his size. It stung a bit, in spite of your evident arousal. You let out a throaty moan as you took all of him and he gave you a satisfied grunt. You started moving your hips slowly, enjoying each and every sensation, the friction directly stimulating your swollen clit. Marshall’s hips moved in sync with yours, setting a gentle pace that allowed the two of you to enjoy the connection. He placed a hand on the back of your neck and pulled you into a deep kiss that was worth a thousand words, while he grabbed a handful of your ass with his free hand. You were chest to chest, lips connected and you moved your hips, attempting to quicken the pace, but he refused to collaborate, opting for slower motions. His thrusts were deliberately unhurried, but you could feel him deep inside you, almost gasping each time he hit your cervix. You could swear you felt him in your whole abdomen. You moaned into the kisses, enjoying the pleasurable pain of feeling him so well, appreciating the fix of your favorite drug : him. You were in ecstasy, wrapped in each other’s embrace, both of your whimpers filling the room. He wrapped his arms tighter around you and made you roll on the mattress so that he’d be on top, shifting you to a missionary position that allowed him to stare at you, even in the obscurity. You couldn’t see much of the room around you, but you managed to gaze into each other’s eyes, almost connecting to each other’s soul. You cupped his cheek and placed kisses on his jaw as he finally quickened his pace, closing his eyes as he did so. You wrapped your legs around his waist, as if to make sure he wouldn’t stop, and you felt your thighs clench around him as the both of you came at the same time. A second later, your man nearly collapsed on top of you.

- I love you, you whispered as you ran your fingers through his hair.

- I love you too, he said emotionally. More than anything.

- More than football ? You giggled.

- More than football, he chuckled.

You closed your eyes and you held each other as the both of you drifted to sleep without bothering to change position.

[marblemoovt]

Tail Training

MASTERLIST

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Fluff, A sprinkle of angst, Mentions/depictions of anxiety and depression. Anything else is in the tags <3

SUMMARY:

At a party, Whis notices that you have noticeably improved your bad habits and offers to train you. Much to your surprise, Whis suggests that you train your tail to eliminate it as a weakness. Will you be able to handle it when he grabs your tail?

------

“This is your first session. I thought some one-on-one training would be more appropriate,” Whis answers, still tugging me by the hand. “I want to start first with a weakness of yours—well, most Saiyans.”

We stop walking, and I stare at our hands still clasped together. When is he going to let go? “And what would that be?” I ask, trying to read his expression.

His violet eyes gleam with amusement, and he gestures with his head. “The appendage wagging behind you, your tail.”

I glance over my shoulder. “What’s my tail got to do with training? Am I going to learn to smack someone into submission with it?” My tail straightens and cracks down like a whip.

NOTE:

Here is another Whis fic! This was another commission. I'm not sure when you guys will see the next one. I was told this is meant to be a slow burn, so expect it to take a while before the relationship is official.

Happy Reading! ヾ(•ω•`)o

It’s been a few weeks since Whis visited my house. Thanks to him, I'm motivated to take better care of myself. Even now, at this party, the first thing he does when he sees me is hand me a glass of water and steer me towards the snack table.

I raise the drink to my lips, hiding a smile. As Whis fills his plate with various snacks and pastries, I nod along and answer any questions.

“So this delightful morsel is called a ‘donut’?” Whis inspects the sugarcoated ball of fried dough.

“Yes, there are various toppings and fillings. You can put pretty much whatever you want on a donut,” I say, flinching when he whirls around and leans closer.

Whis looks at me with sparkling eyes, his skin flushed. “Anything? Truly?’ I nod in response, and he gasps. “Then what modifications have been applied to this one?”

“Um,” I look at the powdered sugar and red hole, “I think that’s just a jelly donut.”

“Fascinating. There are so many uses for pulverized fruit.” Whis pops the pastry into his mouth and moans. “Oooh, this is absolutely amazing!”

He continues to stuff more into his mouth until his cheeks puff. I have to look away to stop myself from laughing. Before I know it, I’m holding a plate of snacks and a new glass of water. Whis said he didn’t want to be the only one eating, and the attention felt nice. He remains at my side, refilling my plate when he notices it’s empty, and only leaves when Beerus calls for him. 

I snap the last cookie from my plate between my teeth. The sudden silence feels too empty. I feel almost… disappointed? I glance across the room to see Whis introduce Beerus to donuts, smiling as the pair devour entire trays. With a full stomach, I can at least focus on hanging out with my friends. I make my rounds to greet everyone, stopping occasionally to talk.

During one of these conversations, my palms grow clammy, and I start to second-guess myself. Am I entertaining enough? I’m not…boring to talk to, right? My grip tightens around my cup by a fraction, and I down the rest of the drink, hoping it dislodges the lump in my throat. 

A few pairs of eyes stare at me, and I realize they’re all waiting for me to respond. How long were they waiting—did they think I was ignoring them? I lick my dry lips, unable to think of what to say, too embarrassed to admit I didn’t hear the tail-end of the conversation.

“What were you all discussing?” Whis butts in, resting his hand on the small of my back. He rubs small circles into my skin, and the tension melts from my body. Someone catches Whis up, and I flash him a grateful smile. ‘You’re alright,’ he mouths to me, squeezing my waist gently. I nod, flushing the negative thoughts from my mind and focusing on the warmth of his hand.

I begin losing track of the conversation, paying more attention to how I’d rather be at home than socialize for another minute. People start noticing that I’m quieter than usual but anyone who confronts me about it receives a snarky remark. This discourages the rest from trying. 

“Are you alright?” Whis walks up to me, taking a bite of another donut. He must really like those. 

“Peachy,” I say, clenching my teeth together. 

Whis hums, and I bristle under his observing stare. “I feel suffocated after spending hours surrounded by large crowds. Would you care to join me on a walk?” he offers his arm to me.

I chew on my bottom lip and glance around. The chatter and laughter in the background tires me, not to mention the loud thrum of music that rumbles through my bones. It feels like someone took my brain and scrambled it in a frying pan. A break. A break sounds nice.

I accept his offer and link our arms together. He guides me outside to a quiet spot in a garden. There’s a bench by a stone walkway that circles a pond. Strings of fairy lights illuminate the area in a soft glow. 

The crisp night air fills my lungs and refreshes my mind. We sit in silence as I regather my thoughts. “Thank you,” I say, staring at the lilypads in the water.

“I should be thanking you,” Whis chuckles. “Spending the night in such lovely company, I couldn’t ask for more.” 

Our shoulders brush together, but his body heat is welcome. His white hair glows against his blue skin like moonlight cast on rippling waves. The warmth in his violet eyes makes my stomach squirm. Whis must think I’m cold because he wraps his arm around me and pulls us closer together. 

“I thought I was getting better, but it was hard to keep talking after a certain point.” I sigh and lean against Whis, reflecting on the past few hours and every conversation I was a part of. 

Whis pats my head and smiles. His eyes look soft almost, a tenderness I don’t usually see them hold. I ignore the flutter in my chest and stare at my lap instead, twiddling with my fingers. “I think your progress is remarkable. You’ve improved. Slowly but surely, you’ve gotten better,” Whis says.

“You think so?”

Whis laughs. “Yes. Compared to a few weeks ago, you’re much more relaxed, and when I tease you, you fight back now.”

A smile tugs my lips. “Yeah, you better watch your back.” I bump our shoulders together, but my confidence wavers at his wide grin.

“Excellent! Why don’t you train under me as well?” He looks at me expectantly, and I can already tell he won’t take no for an answer.

I blink and point a finger at myself. “You want me,” I slowly turn my hand and poke his chest, “to be trained by you?”

Whis nods. “Yes. It will be helpful in your work as a time patroller.” He grabs my hand and lifts my finger to point at his face. “So leave everything to me!”

I tilt my head, staring at his hand, which still holds mine. I’m glad he seems as comfortable with me as I am with him. 

I sigh but can’t stop the smile from forming on my face. “Pft. Ok, why not,” I say, chuckling at how he lights up at my answer.

We continue chatting, but despite my mind being more alert than ever, my body demands rest. Lead weights attach to my eyelids, and my head droops now and then before snapping up as I regain consciousness. Whis walks me home, promising to wake me up on time for our training session. 

I must be exhausted because I barely register the extra body in my bed, falling asleep to Whis’s comforting scent. 

Other than waking up at the crack of dawn, the morning goes by without a hitch. Whis makes me breakfast, insisting I don’t leave a crumb behind lest it hurt his feelings.

Afterwards, Whis leads me to the training grounds, where we meet Goku and Vegeta. He provides them with instructions before guiding me to an unused section.

“You’re not training all of us together?” I ask, craning my head to see the two Saiyans spar. My eyes try to keep up with the blurry motions, but ping-ponging back and forth between them gives me a headache. 

“This is your first session. I thought some one-on-one training would be more appropriate,” Whis answers, still tugging me by the hand. “I want to start first with a weakness of yours—well, most Saiyans.”

We stop walking, and I stare at our hands still clasped together. When is he going to let go? “And what would that be?” I ask, trying to read his expression.

His violet eyes gleam with amusement, and he gestures with his head. “The appendage wagging behind you, your tail.”

I glance over my shoulder. “What’s my tail got to do with training? Am I going to learn to smack someone into submission with it?” My tail straightens and cracks down like a whip.

Whis chuckles and shakes his head. “I heard squeezing a Saiyan’s tail can cause them to lose their strength entirely. One wrong move, and you’re completely paralyzed in battle. Is that correct?” His lips purse as if he’s impatient to reveal the answer.

“No, where’d you hear that nonse—Eek!” I shriek, feeling a jerk on my tail. My entire body stiffens, and every muscle refuses to listen to me. Whis lets go, and I attempt to burn a hole through his head with my glare. 

He flashes a bashful smile, a light pink dusting his cheeks. “Sorry, sorry. What better way to test that theory than to conduct a practical test?”

I huff, the blood still simmering in my veins. “Okay, so what if it is true? I’ve lasted this long with it,” I say, smoothing out the fur. “That’s something many Saiyans can’t claim, especially not after everything I've been through.” 

Whis nods, squeezing my hand. “The loss of your tail would be a shame. The world would lose the fluffiest tail I’ve had the pleasure of seeing,” he sighs and stares forlornly behind me.   

Did he compliment my tail? I wag the appendage behind me, stifling my laughter at how his eyes follow its every move. Is my tail that interesting? “What do you suggest I do about it?” I say.

Whis tilts his head and raises his brows. “We must desensitize you of course. Your tail must learn to endure being touched to strengthen its tolerance,” he says as if the solution is obvious.

I tug my hand free from his grasp and cross my arms.“You just want an excuse to touch my tail.”

Whis brings a hand up to his chest and gasps. “I am astounded by your accusations. I am merely helping you to become stronger,” he says.

I narrow my eyes at him, but he remains unphased. In fact, he looks happier than before. “Alright, fine,” I relent, rolling my eyes at his burst of energy. 

“Wonderful! Have a seat on these boulders. I wouldn’t want you to injure yourself.” He pats the flat surface of one of the rocks, rocking on the heels of his feet. 

I sit, flicking my tail nervously. “Just so we’re clear, this is only for training purposes. I don’t want you getting any strange ideas.” It’s not like I never considered this option before, but touching a Saiyan's tail always felt intimate to me. How could I ask just anyone to do it?

Whis nods. “Crystal clear. Now, let’s start with something easy and increase the intensity slowly.” He gently pets my tail, stroking the soft fur. “How does that feel?” he asks, peering at my face.

I struggle to keep my expression neutral, fighting the muscle spasms. “Doesn’t bother me at all,” I say.

Whis raises a brow, humming in thought. “Really? Looks like I need to take it to the next level then.” His eyes have a mischievous twinkle as he applies more pressure to his touch.

“Hng.” I bite my lip to prevent any more noises from leaking. A familiar heat returns to my cheeks, and I can feel myself start to sweat.

Whis stares at me with wide eyes, and his mouth stretches into a grin. “What was that? Starting to feel a little weak, are we?” He leans close, almost enough that I can feel his breath on my ear.

I refuse to look at him, gritting my teeth. “Not at all. I can handle more than this,” I say, despite knowing that I’m already near my limit.

“If you say so. Then what about now?” Whis grabs my tail, holding it firmly in his hand.

“I-I…” My entire body freezes up again, and only static fills my brain. All my senses are on overload like every nerve is crackling with electricity.

Whis observes me in silence, and his brows knit together. “Are you sure this isn’t affecting you?” he asks, concern lacing his tone.

“....”

He immediately releases my tail. “Please don’t hesitate to tell me to stop. Your comfort comes first. I want you to enjoy this, not hate it,” he says.

I suck in a breath, trying to calm my frazzled nerves. I wet my dry lips with my tongue and mull over my thoughts, figuring out how to word my sentence. “I… I don’t mind it so much if it’s you.” I sneak a glance at Whis, who’s staring at the ground. The tips of his ears are pink, and he refuses to meet my eyes until they return to their usual colour. 

Whis stands up and paces back and forth. “Shall we take a break? You’re looking a little winded. Perhaps a cold drink and a wet towel would help?” he says, offering his hand to me.

I shake my head and close his hand, pushing it back. “I’ll be fine. I just need a minute,” I say.

Whis frowns and stares at his clenched fist. Is he upset I didn’t want to take a break? His posture straightens, and his usual smile is back. “Why don’t we make this a regular occurrence? We can repeat this session until you’ve become immune,” he says.

I purse my lips. “I guess that wouldn’t be so bad. It would be a great help if I didn’t have to worry about my tail while working.” I reflect on my career. I must have been lucky not to encounter someone taking advantage of this weakness, but it would only be a matter of time until I did.  

Whis claps his hands together, bouncing on the spot. “Excellent. Same time tomorrow, then?” He looks at me with puppy-dog eyes, and I forget my outrage momentarily. But then I remember how sensitive my tail felt while he was ‘training’ me and my pride snapped me back to reality.

“What?! I’m not doing this every day!”

“I’m only joking,” Whis chuckles, but then he pauses, and his smile widens. “Though if you wanted to…” He leans forward, and I shove his face back to create some distance.

“No. Maybe once or twice a week, and in return, I want you to cook me breakfast those days,” I say. There’s no way I would let him touch my tail for free, training or not. I may not completely dislike the thought of him seeing me in such a vulnerable state, but it’s only fair I receive something in turn.

Whis sits beside me again. He rests his elbow on his thigh, propping his head up with a hand. “You do realize that I’m not at a disadvantage? I get to pet your tail weekly and provide you with my cooking,” he says, smiling at me. His confident smirk irks me. My tail thumps against the rocks, and I stop it when I notice it only amuses him further.

“Shut up. I’m the one making the demands.” I cross my arms and frown, still sweating from the training session. I tug at my shirt collar and shudder as the air hits my damp skin. From far away, it looks like Whis and I have wrapped up an intense physical training session, but the truth is too embarrassing for me to admit.

Whis grins, and there’s that knowing look in his eyes again, as if he can see right through me. “Very well. On the days we train, I shall make you breakfast in exchange for the honour of touching your fluffiness.” His hand reaches out to my tail, but Whis recoils almost immediately. He stands up and pats my head, praising me for my hard work. “I can’t wait to see you at our next session. In the meantime, do take care of yourself. You’ve been doing an excellent job, and I wish to continue seeing you in good health.”

And he leaves me there, still flushed and dazed. My tail tingles from his lingering warmth, and I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like for him to pet it again.

A few weeks go by quicker than expected, and I wake up to Whis cooking in my kitchen. He makes me a sandwich filled with eggs, bacon, lettuce, and tomatoes. As I munch on the food at the dining table, he watches with his hands propping up his chin. He smiles at every move I make, and I become aware of my tail swishing.

“I would say you’ve built enough tolerance. We can shift our focus to other areas,” Whis says, lifting a napkin to wipe my lips. His hand lingers before he pulls away and crumples the tissue into a ball, flashing me a smile.

I nod. “Thank you. My tail feels a lot stronger.” I glance over my shoulder, admiring the muscle I’ve gained. 

Whis’s eyes remain fixed on my tail. “Yes, it appears more voluminous than before,” he says, tapping his fingers against the table. 

I can’t help but laugh and bring my tail closer to him. “You can touch it if you want. Just let me know in advance and I’ll let you pet it a little,” I say. “Consider it an exclusive benefit for helping.”

Whis reaches over and strokes the fur, eyes gleaming. “Marvelous,” he whispers in a breathless tone. Not once does he grab it, only touching my tail with gentle pets. His cheeks flush a light pink as he beams at me. “Thank you,” he says. 

I coil my tail around his wrist and hand. “You can touch me more. I’m not as sensitive now.”

“Pardon?” Whis stares at me with wide eyes. His skin almost looks purple and his hand starts to feel clammy against my tail. 

I hope he’s not getting sick. Can angels even catch illnesses? “My tail. You’re always so intrigued by it. Thanks to the training I can even handle a few harsh tugs now,” I say. 

Whis blinks owlishly before nodding and sinking bonelessly into his seat. “Right—of course. I’m honoured to be granted such a privilege.”

Maybe training three Saiyans is taking a toll on him? Come to think of it, I haven’t done much else to show my gratitude. “Do you want to stay for lunch?” I ask.

Whis sits up straight and grins. “I would love to.”

“Great!” I unwrap my tail and stand up, heading to the kitchen. “I’ll make something you haven’t had yet.” 

Whis follows close behind, and despite his persistent questions, I refuse to answer any of them, laughing at his sulking figure.

END NOTE:

When I tell you I gasped when that last misunderstanding popped into my brain, I was shook

I'll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ

Taglist: @lovecats123451

[sugoi-and-spice]

Commission for the AMAZINGLY patient @i-likebread . Thank you so much for such a fun idea and again, for your patience during my summer writing dry spell. ^_^

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader, Yuji Itadori x Reader

Summary: At the end of the day, curses were trophic beings. Sukuna? Of course, he was an apex predator. He knew how to wait, to watch, to be patient. To wait until his prey was in exactly the right position where victory, making the kill, was guaranteed. Enter: Yuji’s new little girlfriend. The ingénue. The prey.

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI

CW: Dub-Con, Non-Con, Rape by Deception, Cuckholding, Rough Sex, Virginity Loss, Painful Virginity Loss, Manipulation, mentions of Ero-Guro

If you're interested in getting your own Commission done, please refer to my Commission Sheet and shoot me a DM or e-mail! ^_^

Cross-Posted on AO3.

Everyone had told Yuji Itadori that it was a bad idea. A very bad idea. After all, just dating as a Jujutsu Sorcerer at all came with its fair share of risks. Dating as a Jujutsu Sorcerer while sharing a body with the King of Curses? It should’ve rendered him completely celibate. But to go beyond that, to not only date, but to date a normal, powerless girl with absolutely no knowledge of the existence of Jujutsu society and curses?

Now that was downright stupid.

Those were Gojo’s words too! Satoru Gojo’s — the stupid idea savant! That had certainly gotten Yuji to second guess things. When he left to meet her for their first official date, he’d gone there with all the intentions of breaking things off. But then…

Well, there wasn’t any big revelation. She’d just been her. And he just couldn’t let her go. There were very few moments in his life these days that were able to be just sweet and simple. So any he could have, he knew that he had to cling to, and cling to tight. And moments spent with her? They made him feel like life would never be complicated again.

So six months later, here they were at the matsuri of a temple near her school. And boy, watching her knelt over the shateki stall, silly little tongue sticking out of her mouth as she concentrated so deeply on the balloon she was aiming at, could he not regret it any less. Especially not when she looked so damn cute in that yukata.

POP!

 “I got it!” she jumped back from the carnival game with a squeal, accidentally knocking Yuji in the chest with the pellet gun.

“Oomf—!”

She gasped, “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry!” and rushed forward to check his chest, almost hitting him in the face this time, “Are you hurt?!”

He was able to anticipate it this time though, catching the muzzle of the rifle in his palm with a laugh, “I’m fine, I’m fine. Let’s just put this down, alright?”

She relinquished it immediately, bringing her hands to her face to try and cover her blush as she nodded frantically. The moment had finally caught up to her, the fact that she’d almost taken him out twice with the toy rifle and got completely in his face, touching his chest. And the cutest embarrassment came along with it. 

That was one of the things he really liked about her. She was shy and soft-spoken, but that didn’t stop her from ever living or hiding her true feelings when push came to shove. Especially when they involved other people. She often got ahead of herself, feet moving before her brain, throwing manners out the window if it meant helping somebody in need, blurting out the silliest little nonsensicals to try to ease an awkward silence. But never failing to revert back to that shyness and feel embarrassed about it in a way that always brought a smile to his face.

“Your prize, Miss.”

They both turned back to the game-tender, and Yuji instantly froze when he saw the prize being handed to her.

A little yarn doll, just big enough to be a keychain, and it— holy shit, it looked like—

“Aww, look at him Yuji!” she beamed, holding the doll up next to his face, “It looks just like you!”

He could feel his heart freeze with dread, his stomach twisting.

“W-What are you talking about?! No it doesn’t! It’s got tattoos!”

“Yeah. And four arms,” she rolled her eyes, “But look! It’s got your hair and eyes and that mischievous little smirk,” she wiggled it closer to his cheek, “That’s all troublemaker. All Yuji Itadori.” 

He swatted the little doll away from his face, growing more and more prickly the longer she held it so close to him, “Is not!”

She giggled, taking his whining as embarrassment over being teased rather than anything serious,and pulled the doll back to clutch into her own palms lovingly.

“And it’s cute…” she blushed a little as she whispered, “...just like you.”

Yuji softened at the sight. 

He needed to take it easy. It’s not like she could know the history there, the thing it actually looked like — he’d made absolute sure that she hadn’t, after all.

But still, the question remained:

“What’s it supposed to be anyway?” he asked, “A mascot or something?”

He had to know, it was just uncanny how much it looked like Sukuna. And this temple didn’t have any ties to the Jujutsu world that he knew of. Not that he knew a lot. But he hadn’t seen any sorcerers or cursed energy residuals in the area. If anything, it was weird how few curses — even flyheads — were in this area, considering how old the temple was.

“I guess it’s the guardian spirit of this temple,” she answered.

Yuji’s eyes widened. No. No, there was no freaking way.

“This thing?” he pressed in disbelief, “But he— I mean it looks more like a demon than a guardian spirit.”

“That’s kind of the interesting thing!” she explained excitedly, “My homeroom teacher was telling us about it last week. I think the story goes, that in a war between spirits and humans, the peasants this temple served were constantly caught in the crossfire. That is, until a dedicated, benevolent demon came along and vowed to protect the temple even while the rest of the world burnt around it.”

She presented the doll to him, “This little guy is that demon.”

It was all Yuji could do to not roll his eyes at her. Okay. Now he knew it was just a coincidence. Because sure. Benevolent. That’s what Sukuna was. 

What a bunch of crap.

Oi. Sukuna suddenly gruffed in his head. I’m plenty fucking benevolent. 

Yuji went rigid. Sukuna didn’t talk to him often. And honestly, he preferred it that way. He could nap and plot and flit away the time however he did in his own soul, while Yuji enjoyed the life surrounding his. Rarely did he actually tune in and observe Yuji’s life unless there was a battle or an… opportunity at hand.

So the fact that he seemed to be paying attention now was more than a bit worrying. 

What, you gonna tell me that the story is true or something? Yuji snapped right back at his squatter bodymate. That you actually protected a temple?

Could be.

Yuji’s breath hitched.

O-Oh yeah? he demanded, trying to not reveal his wavering confidence. And what was the catch? There’s no way you were some guardian out of the goodness of your heart.

He could practically hear Sukuna smirk inside his head and it unnerved him. Sukuna was privy to all kinds of information about curses and Jujutsu that Yuji learned at school, a lot of which even involved the King of Curses himself. Yet he hardly had anything to comment on then. So why was he so damn talkative about this story?

I protected the shrine… Never said shit about the people in it. And then that horrible, raucous laughter of Sukuna’s echoed in his head.

“Shut up!”

“Huh?”

Yuji snapped back to his girlfriend, who stared back at him with wide, confused eyes. Shit. He said that outloud, didn’t he?

“Sh-Shut up— no way they’ve got fluffy ice!” he tried to save, pointing past her to a nearby stall, “We gotta get some!”

She looked behind her, following his finger, and then laughed, relieved that it was something as simple as that rather than something she might have said, “I swear, all you ever think about is food, Yuji.”

“That’s not true… I think about you a lot.”

…is what Yuji would’ve said if he were smoother, more confident, and convinced that a line like that wouldn’t send her running for the hills. But of course, he wasn’t any of those things. So he just rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish laugh and nodded when she suggested they go get in line for some.

He wanted to just enjoy the night, to forget about curses and Jujutsu and most of all Sukuna — he practically dared the curse to make another fucking remark, to get all of his unwelcome commentary out now while he could. But the inside of his head had gone, thankfully, radio silent. So he made peace with the fact that Sukuna had gotten bored with all of this and had gone back into his own soul to sleep.

But no. Sukuna was not gone, nor bored. Far from it.

He was hungry.

Sukuna watched Yuji’s little girlfriend through his host’s eyes.

He’d excused himself to go use the restroom soon after they’d gotten their fluffy ice to split, and now he’d just stopped to watch her, sitting on a bench near the edge of the temple, the mouth of the forest, and enjoying her frozen treat with childish glee. The lovestruck fool was living in the moment, watching her with a heart full of warmth and just wanting to take it all in.

For Sukuna however, his stare was full of a hunger growing more and more ravenous with every second.

Of course she looked delicious at all times.  In her school uniform (girl’s uniforms were one of the few innovations of this era he could fully get behind), in her gym clothes the times she and Yuji went jogging together. Even that little floral sundress number she’d worn on their last date had really gotten his motor going. She was just a gorgeous little thing, and exactly his type.

Sickeningly sweet and salaciously stupid.

 But there was something about her right now, dolled up in a snow white yukata, walking under the warm glow of the traditional lanterns, down the path of a temple he once called home — she looked like she could have existed just like this, a thousand years ago. That she could’ve encountered him when he was at the height of his power, looking just like this.

It took everything in him not to utter “Extension” and tear her to pieces in front of every pair of prying eyes right here on this stone path. 

But no. He had to control himself.

He had to plan his moves carefully, he couldn’t just cause havoc willy-nilly, not without raising an unignorable alarm for the Jujutsu Sorcerers to put Yuji Itadori and himself down like Old Yeller. No, now was not the time to rape and pillage and have his fun.

It didn’t mean he was happy about it, though.

Somehow, there was something even worse about not being able to have his way in this form then it had been when his soul was fractured for a thousand years. At least before he’d manifested, he was held back by the fact that it was impossible to do anything else — he literally couldn’t have physically let loose even if he wanted to. He was essentially stuck in purgatory.

But now, when he had the full ability to ravage but had to keep himself in check, with only himself and his self-preservation to answer to? God, it practically fucking burned. It wasn’t right. If he didn’t get some kind of outlet soon, he was going to go crazy. 

It was like he was a dog, kept chained and locked up within the cage of his own skin. But that’s not what he was. He wasn’t a fucking housepet. He was a hunter, a predator.

And a damned good one at that.

There was a huge difference between other Curses and Sukuna. The sorcerers had decided to define this difference by grades. But Sukuna believed that the real explanation was much less academic, much more simple.

After all, just because a curse was “Special Grade” didn’t mean that it was worth a damn. It could have all the cursed energy in the world, but if it didn’t know how to properly hunt? It’d be lucky to last a century. 

They were trophic beings at the end of the day.

Low-level Curses, like flyheads? They were, at best, Primary Consumers. If he were being blunt, most of them were Producers, barely above algae. They tended to draw in more Jujutsu Sorcerers than they were worth. Sitting fucking ducks.

That waste of space from the Juvenile Detention Center? A Secondary Consumer. He could pick off the herbivores that were humans. Injured zebras falling behind the herd like his host and the little girl with the hammer.

And the little patchwork punk? The one that dared to put his pathetic mitts on his soul twice? Sukuna would be generous and call him a Tertiary Consumer. He sure did give that Seven to Three Sorcerer and his host a run for their money.

But Sukuna, himself? Of course, he was an apex predator. He knew how to wait, to watch, to be patient. To wait until his prey was in exactly the right position where victory, making the kill, was guaranteed.

Enter: Yuji’s new little girlfriend. The ingénue. 

The prey.

…

Okay, so maybe she was some low-hanging fruit, but it’s not like he could be too choosy. And boy was she ripe for the picking.

Besides, a top of the food chain hunter such as himself knew how to make some fun, a chase out of anything. 

Yes, little Yuji Itadori should’ve listened to his teachers. Dating a non-sorcerer, bringing such a tempting piece of meat into his eyeline and waving it around so proudly was a very bad idea.

And Sukuna lived for bad ideas.

“Extension.”

She perked up as Yuji re-approached, “Hey—!” then paused, head cocking as she noticed something… different about him.

“What’s with the…?” she gestured over her face, indicating the black marks now running across his skin.

“They were doing some face-painting at one of the booths,” he answered simply, lowly, “Looks good, right?”

She flushed a bit at the timber of his voice, eyes dropping to the cup of fluffy ice in her hands. Even imitating Itadori, there was a huskiness, a darkness in Sukuna’s voice that couldn’t be masked. And it sent shivers straight up his prey’s lovely spine.

“Y-Yeah… Looks really good.”

He smirked. Trap set.

“Really good, huh?” he purred, sitting on the bench not only next to her, but with his legs pressing hard against hers.

Her cheeks flushed, giggling as he slid his arm behind her shoulders on the bench, and giddy embarrassment set her body afloat. She liked this, liked it a lot. She always wanted Yuji to sweet-talk and touch her like this, more than she really should honestly. But she was way too embarrassed to ever admit that herself. So this extra flirty mood he seemed to be in at the moment was sending her straight to Cloud 9.

“...Uh— Uh-huh. R-Really good.”

She hazarded a look at his face again, the intensity, the uninhibited desire burning like coal in those lazy-lidded eyes sending an all new feeling of excitement through her body. One she’d been denying for a while.

With a squeak, she looked back forward, jutting the cup of fluffy ice over in his general direction, “D-Do you want some more?!”

He barely paid the measly little treat any mind, far more invested in the delicacy so pretty and wrapped up in an obi for him. 

“Yeah, why not.”

She turned towards him, eyes focussing on his tight chest rather than his sinful eyes, so that she could pick up the spoon and feed him. But before she could even touch the utensil, he reached past it, towards her, and caught a little drip of sweet syrup at the corner of her mouth with his thumb. 

Her breath hitched, loud and embarrassingly. But this only seemed to spur him on. He brushed it slowly along the length of her lower lip, pressing it in ever so slightly when he got to the center, kissing the pad of his thumb to her teeth. He could feel everything about her through this, the way her throat bobbed anxiously, the shuttering breath against his skin, the way her tongue sank forward instinctually to meet him. 

She couldn’t help it, the hypnotic lull that it pulled her into. Her eyes started to shutter closed, but in doing so she noticed something.

His nails.

Sukuna clocked this almost simultaneously, whipping his hand back before she completely lost her stupor and bringing the thumb to his own lips, nails hidden from sight. He made a show of licking the residuals of sweetness off of it, eyes boring straight into hers.

“Tastes even better this way,” he purred.

She flushed and turned away quickly and completely, her back to him, beyond embarrassed, “Y-Yuji—!”

“What?”

“That’s so embarrassing,” she squeaked.

“What do you mean?” he husked, leaning in from above her, pressing impossibly closer into her back, “What’s so embarrassing about loving the way you taste?”

Sukuna could feel her cheeks heat up as he slotted his nose into her shoulder, “In fact…”

He pressed his mouth, motionless, into the nape of her neck. He breathed into it, doing everything in his power to get a whisper of a taste of that skin, without devouring her whole.

“I’d love to taste more.”

He ran his hands down her arms, nails catching on every goosebump. They were going slow, teasing, but they weren’t stopping. No, they were not stopping their descent. Not until they got to—

“Y-Yuji,” she gasped out an embarrassed laugh as his hands slipped down to cover her own over the cup, sticky and cold from the fluffy ice dripping forgotten over them, “Come on, there are people around…”

“And?” Sukuna’s fingers weaved with her own squeezing tight, his hips slanting flush against her ass, “If there weren’t people around?”

She tilted her head back, startled by how close his lips were to hers when she did so. Startled, but not scared off. No. Intoxicated. Caught in the center of the spider’s web.

Trapped. Right where he wanted her.

Sukuna’s smirk widened and he caught her lips, all pretense gone. He was going in for the kill.

There was a reason why she was easy prey, and it wasn’t just because she was meek and malleable, easy for Sukuna to overwhelm even without powers.

It was because she wanted this from Yuji, had wanted it for a while, actually. If he didn’t know from all the needing looks and batting lashes she’d sent his way over the last six months — a virgin whore if he’d ever seen one —  it was more than obvious now. The way she grinded against him, gasped excitedly as he shoved her against a tree, back arching as he turned the top of her yukata into a belt, exposing her bare chest to his rough, relentless palms.

He was brought back to the other fucks he’d had under this very tree, when he’d been able to dig his claws into the flesh of shrine maidens until he felt bone. Or that village girl whose spine he’d snapped in half as he came.

This wasn’t nearly as physically exhilarating as those times, but there was something oddly even more exciting about it on a sentimental level. Of course, it was his first fuck in over a millennia, and a virgin at that (his fucking favorite), but she was Yuji’s too. 

Yuji’s girlfriend, Yuji’s love, Yuji’s prize to be won — and he’d stolen her right under the brat’s nose. The only thing that would make it better would be if Yuji could actually see it right now.

He could let that go for now though, especially considering how pliant and eager she was, the way she held back her yelps and locked down any complaints as they slipped down to the cold, crackly ground, her bare back grinding hard into the bark. He knew that it hurt her, he could smell the blood and feel the way her breath hitched in his mouth, and yet miraculously, she didn’t say a word. She wanted this to happen, she wanted to make him happy. And she was too shy to voice anything that might result in otherwise.

“You ready?” he purred, already shoving his pants down to his knees and giving himself a few preparatory pumps, regardless of her answer.

She gulped, and nodded hurriedly.

As soon as he moved her panties to the side and rubbed the head of his cock against her entrance exploratorily, Sukuna knew she was lying. Her body was clearly not quite there. She was plenty wet, sure, but she was still tense from the nerves, and shallow from the lack of prep. 

That was fine though. Actually, it was great. That added ring of resistance? That’s what made virgins and victims the absolute perfect prey, that’s what made them intoxicating.

He couldn’t have held back if he wanted to.

Without any other warning, he slammed his hips forward, fucking her fully.

She cried out with a volume that was clearly not all from joy. She was hurt. And he almost came on the spot at the sound.

“Are you okay?” he asked, just to keep in character. He didn’t care either way.

“Mm—! Mm-hmm!” she nodded frantically, tears clear in her eyes and hesitant to open her mouth, lest she reveal the actual pain she was in.

Oh, a little tough girl, huh? He could fucking fall in love.

Sukuna kept a serious face, but inside he was splitting in two, smiling.

“You sure? Do you want me to stop?” he insisted. It’s not like he would, even if she wanted to. But the idea of her powering through the pain, begging him to keep going even as he broke her? It was just too good to pass up.

“Y-Yes,” she yelped out in such a sweet, strained voice, “P-Please, keep going Yuji!”

He reached forward, running a hand through her hair, that once perfect little updo now frazzled and ruined with leaves and dirt, “I’ll be gentle, okay?”

She sniffled and put on a brave, quivering smile, nodding. He dragged out of her to the tip, slowly, expertly, pulling from her the first little gasp of pleasure.

Then he bottomed out inside her.

She cried out loudly, nails clinging into his back with vicelock strength as he fucked her, truly fucked her. She tried to make those cries sound pleasured, like moans. But she couldn’t hide the screams they truly were. She pulled him closer so that she could try and muffle them into his shoulder. 

But that wouldn’t do. No, that would not fucking do.

The hand in her hair tightened, pulling her head back harshly so that she had nowhere to direct her noise but into the night sky as he pounded into her. She bit her lip, trying to keep them at bay.

“Fuck, it feels so good,” he groaned, genuinely, “What about you, baby? Do you feel good?”

She tried to just get away with nodding and whining.

“Tell me baby,” he pressed, “Tell me it feels good.”

“I-It… It feels good!” she finally cried out, desperate for him to stop, “Y-Yuji, it feels so good!”

He pressed his lips into her cheek, almost cumming on the spot as the streams of tears down her skin touched his tongue.

“I love you so much,” he growled shamelessly.

She smiled a face-splitting smile, eyes wide and puffy, and body completely open and raw, as she tried to love away the pain.

“M-Me too!” she almost gagged, “I love you too!!”

In this life, the previous, or even the next, Sukuna was sure he’d never cum as hard as he did when he saw that face. 

Yuji stared down at her in absolute horror. What had he done? No, what had he done?!

His girlfriend, that pure, perfect girl, the one true light of his life, was laid out beneath him, a complete mess. Covered in dirt, hickeys, and a sheen of her own sweat and tears. 

Raped.

Her bare chest rose and fell heavily (he could be thankful for that at least), and her cheek rested against the twisting roots of the tree they were under as she tried to catch her breath.

No.

No, no, no, no, no—

Her eyes blinked open as she felt a splash against her flesh, pulling her from her post-sex daze. She turned to look up at Yuji, instantly shocked to see him hunched over her and sobbing uncontrollably.

“Yuji?” she gasped, “Yuji what’s wrong?”

“I… I-I just—” he choked, trying desperately not to throw up. His fingers ran shakily across the divots in her skin, the scratches and bitemarks, “Are you o-okay?”

She followed his stroking hands to her marred shoulders and whipped back to him with a gasp.

“Ohhh, sweetie no— don’t worry about those! I’m fine!”

“A-Are you sure?” he rasped.

“Of course!” she pulled him down into a tight embrace, “I loved it, Yuji.”

Those words stabbed him harder and hotter than anything else she could’ve said. Made it all so much worse.

“I absolutely loved it.”

Like what you read? Consider getting your own Commission! ^_^

[averageallogene]

You sister, who always have had everything she wanted, isn't happy Ayato chose to marry you.

So, on your wedding day, she sneaks into the groom's preparation room to try and convince him to marry her instead.

Ayato ♡⊹˚ Familial woes (SFW)

fem. reader (3rd person) ; angst with a good ending. cw for toxic family relationships.

4k words.

notes. I just cannot write something that isn’t past 3k words SORRY LMAO. But anyway, so it begins~ Thank you for all the wonderful ideas, I will do my best to write out each scenario in due time! Sorry if it isn't as angsty, if that's the case I'll try to make up with the others... I hope I do Ayato justice in this one <3.

Since I'm back home these prompts will be written on my laptop, hence the fancier formatting. Anyway, Enjoy! ✧˖°.

Coming from a prestigious clan has its ups and downs, yet [F/N] has managed to withstand most obstacles that appeared in her wake. Despite not being one of the tri-commissions, her family was held in the highest regards, including herself as the eldest daughter of the clan. Thankfully however, despite all the restrictions her lifestyle imposed upon her, she still had one good thing on her side - having an elder brother, she wouldn’t have to inherit all the pressure he did. It sounded dismissive, she herself knew so, yet the heart wants what it wants. And even for someone as self-disciplined and honorable as she, surely she could indulge, couldn’t she?

[F/N] had worked hard for her reputation, ensuring her clan kept its prestigious namesake whilst strengthening the bonds with other houses that would prove to become fruitful. With negotiation came alliances, and with alliances the stability of Inazuma was kept. Above all else, she knew, much like her brother, that this was what was to be first and foremost on their priority list. Two of the three children of their house upheld such responsibilities, save for their youngest sister. She, who didn’t have many expectations to her name when compared to her siblings, ended up living a much more desirable lifestyle - in short, she was pampered throughout her life, the apple of their father’s eye. Even in his deathbed, she was promised much more of their share, given everything to the palm of her hand whilst the other siblings were expected to simply cope with such reality. Even when their brother would inherit the Clan as well as all its responsibilities, both felt as though she had won in conquering their parents’ hearts.

[F/N] managed relatively well. Even as her sister grew up taking the spotlight from her whenever she got an ounce of attention, even as she had to work thrice as hard to receive a crumb of the recognition her siblings would get from their parents, she acted with grace that only corresponded with everyone’s expectations. An example of a noble young lady, she was perceived as. Even as her heart would often ache, anger boiling just underneath the surface, she covered it down as the long sleeve of her kimono would hide her bitter expression. She could deal with her sister, she had to. Years of hiding her distaste resulted in a skill that would prove useful in the future, [F/N] becoming able to hide her true emotions rather well. 

Their brother ruled their household impeccably, perhaps more so than even their father had while he still lived. [F/N] was there to aid whenever needed, it being mostly to advise him on important decisions and to communicate with their allies whilst he tended to his other duties. And being good with people, she performed her obligations rather well, becoming well acquainted with many important people and even forming friendly bonds with some. One of these was none other than the Kamisatos, including their young daughter of whom [F/N] doted on. In her, she’d found the younger sister she’d always wanted, offering her advice whenever needed, as well as sometimes offering her the company she craved - at least, whenever their busy schedules would allow them to. [F/N] had watched Ayaka grow from within, pride beaming in her chest as she became a fine young lady herself. It was of most importance for them to support one another, knowing full well how stressful their positions could be; it made their lives a little more bearable, knowing they had the support of someone outside of their immediate family. 

It was through this growing friendship that [F/N] became acquainted with Ayato, Ayaka’s enigmatic older brother and the ruler of the Kamisato household. Much more distant and calculating, it was seemingly difficult to come closer to his heart as the man held most within arm’s reach. Still, [F/N] remained cordial, not expecting much to blossom from there. Friendly interactions were more than enough, keeping the alliance of their clans alive. 

To Ayato however, it was much different. His experienced eyes watched, blue gaze lingering on the finely dressed figure as she often hid her elegant expression with her long sleeves. He noticed how she smiled without much light whenever she was within her clan’s walls, contrasting vividly when compared with how her expressions were genuine whenever accompanied with Ayaka and even Thoma. Ayato noted how she genuinely cared for his sister, offering her wise advice when regarding personal matters he could only figure weren’t of his caliber. And later, a few springs later, he studied how she’d come by more and more often, seemingly seeking refuge within the Kamisato residence whenever her position would allow. To Ayato, [F/N] wasn’t difficult to figure out, yet he couldn’t help but begin worrying for his sister’s friend.

“Thoma,” He’d beckoned his housekeeper, watching as he quickly obliged and approached. Even as he read through the stack of papers, he carried on the conversation. “Ayaka has expressed interest in inviting miss [F/N] over for the evening, yet is there any particular reason for it?”

“Oh,” He sighed out briefly, expression furrowing slightly as he gave his Lord a crack of a sympathetic smile. “Lady [F/N] has been quite down recently, so my Lady wished to offer her a safe space to rest for as long as needed. I-Is that something she should reconsider, my Lord?”

Ayato simply shook his head. “No, it’s quite alright by me; I just couldn’t help notice how she’s been coming over more often. Now, Miss [F/N]’s presence is more than welcomed, of course, yet I wondered how come she seems so gloomy these past few days.”

“Nothing seems to escape you, my Lord,” Thoma chuckled out, before sheepishly offering him an explanation. “Lady [F/N] has a… Rather tumultuous relationship with her siblings, more so with her sister. Apparently, she recently ruined [F/N]’s engagement to a wealthy noble of another house, and her brother did little else but attempt to brush everything under the rug before their reputation were to be stained. She’s been understandably annoyed by the situation, expressing anguish that her sister wasn’t properly punished.”

Ayato’s expression faltered ever so slightly, his hand lowering the paper he read. He’d heard of the news, as gossip traveled fast throughout Narukami. Yet he surely hadn’t heard of the ever so slightly important detail of her younger sister being the cause of such a ruckus. In all honesty, the Commissioner had simply thought she’d been the one to break off the engagement, rightfully so in his mind - they simply had little in common, so there was little chance of the marriage succeeding in the first place. 

“I see… If you happen to see her later, please inform her that she can remain here as long as she wishes.” He finished off with a small smile, accompanied with the dismissal of his friend before resuming his duties. 

It felt bad to overstay their hospitality, yet [F/N] found it difficult to refuse. Not after her anger made her nearly explode, as well as watching as her brother dismissed her more than justified anger. She’s just never going to change, he’d reasoned as to why he didn’t even punish her for meddling in her engagement, practically telling her to move on. In truth, [F/N] couldn’t exactly say she loved her fiancé, but he certainly wasn’t a bad match, at least from the little she knew of him. Well mannered, good temperament, friendly enough, a reputation similar to their own. Honestly, it had felt like she’d hit the jackpot when considering she would most definitely be married off to whomever her brother thought was the most ideal choice. She’d just gotten her mind set that he would be her husband, and her sister just had to insert herself in between them and whisk him away for her own satisfaction. [F/N] was forced to watch as he was wooed by her beauty and charms, becoming nothing short of her boytoy and wallet as she was pitied as the disgraced woman who was abandoned. Gossip was cruel, and she wished nothing more than to remain hidden away in the Kamisato Estate for a little while. 

Ayato received letters, [F/N]’s brother inquiring of her whereabouts as well as demanding her return. Amidst his pile of papers they were just too easy to lose, shrugging his shoulders as he feigned ignorance. Ayaka’s and Thoma’s presence were great in helping her cope, her mind forgetting the trash fire of a family she had for a little more than three weeks. However amidst the duties she had to do, as well as the way she would often give her brother advice on which decisions to make, her presence was beginning to weigh in her clan’s house.

“I should probably return soon,” [F/N] had sighed as she sat on their courtyard, Thoma offering her his company as he served her tea. “My brother will probably make a foolish decision without me there to weigh in the options.”

The blond man chuckled, passing her the fine ceramic cup. “It’s a shame, Miss [F/N]. Your presence in the Kamisato Household is a breath of fresh air, after all.”

“Thank you Thoma, I’ll most definitely miss being in such a peaceful place.” Her gaze turned to the distance, watching with melancholy the beautiful view their courtyard offered.

“You’re always welcome to stay for longer.” Ayato’s voice was suddenly heard, the pair turning to him as he made his way across the wooden floors to the table where they sat.

“Oh,” [F/N] breathed out, head lowering in respect. “Lord Kamisato, I-”

“Please, no need for such formalities. You may just call me Ayato” He offered her a small smile, one seemingly genuine enough as his eyes glimmered with the sunlight. “A friend of Ayaka’s is a friend of my own. She holds you in the highest regard, you know?”

[F/N]’s face bloomed with a lovely shade of pink, nervously laughing as she looked down. “Oh, that girl… She’s just too kind.”

“Are you insinuating she’s overselling your qualities, Miss [F/N]?” He teased, watching with humor as her face contorted in hesitancy and horror. 

“What? No, of course not- No, I mean-”

“Perchance she wishes to play matchmaker?” His smile grew more sly, finding her stuttering at his remark quite adorable. 

Thoma chuckled quietly, watching the two of them as he rather awkwardly stood there. “My Lord, please…”

“Right, I jest.” Ayato let out in a breathless chuckle, ceasing for the time being as he watched her expression soothe back, the blush still very well present. “Still, Miss [F/N]. You are more than welcome to return, if your family ever causes another ruckus.”

Her genuine smile looked beautiful, her sleeve not covering her face as she would’ve often done during their first encounters. It had been enough to engrave itself on Ayato’s mind, even as she returned to her family estate to once more fulfill her duties.

It was the beginning of something more. No longer did [F/N] visit the Kamisatos for Ayaka and Thoma, she now visited to see Ayato, as well. Even when he wasn’t there to see her, which happened more often than she’d like, she would still inquire how he was doing, hoping he’d be alright and not overworking. Her care for him was endearing, and Ayato found himself making small excuses every so often to leave his working station, wishing to welcome [F/N] to their estate instead and indulge in a philosophical conversation, or perhaps even a game of shogi. Under the blooming sakuras they would converse, and despite the apparent fleeting moments they were, those closest to Ayato could definitely notice the slight shifts in his demeanor - the Commissioner was, after all, not one to allow many into his heart, yet his soft spot for [F/N] was as obvious as it could be. 

Suspicion was quick to rise, especially for [F/N]’s siblings. However, [F/N]’s obliviousness was what boiled her brother’s frustrations, wondering if the Commissioner simply sought a plaything in his sister and not something serious. His hurries to find a match for her were in vain though, for just as he believed the answer was in reach, the news came to him through one of his many advisors - one aside from his sister, of course.

“M-My Lord, that might not be a good idea.” The older man stuttered, before breaking the news that was believed to be obvious. “Lord Kamisato is courting Lady [F/N], after all.”

In truth, it had blindsighted [F/N], for she couldn’t believe it for quite a while. Having developed a small crush on the Commissioner, she’d hastily reminded herself it would never develop into anything more. After all, her status required her to marry for benefit first and foremost, and something as worthless as love wasn’t in a noble’s interest. In his place, however, Ayato thought it was just the perfect arrangement - he was not only going to court someone he deeply cared for, their alliance would prove more than beneficial. His opponent, ahem, [F/N]’s brother, would have no rational argument against their marriage. 

The news was quick to spread across the land of lightning, and everyone was ecstatic for the Yashiro Commissioner. Ayato was a fine young man, an even finer leader, and his marriage to someone of such a high status as [F/N] was bound to please most. Like he’d calculated, despite not being how it was planned, her brother had no possible way of opposing his request to marry his sister. Ayato was, after all, in a higher rank than their own clan was. It was an honor, something he could not refuse. 

And as such, [F/N]’s future was bound with Ayato’s, and she couldn’t be happier. Their relationship progressed quickly, and even before their wedding, he arranged for her personal belongings to be promptly brought to the Kamisato Estate, where she would live. He couldn’t be more dismissive for appearing to go too fast, far too worried to finally bring [F/N] away from the pressure and unhealthy behaviors of her siblings. 

One who was far too flabbergasted by such turns of events was none other than her sister, the very same woman who’d taken her previous fiancé to only ditch him after she’d squeezed him for most that he was worth. She’d noticed the smile [F/N] had directed to her before leaving their Estate for good, escorted by samurai issued by her fiancé before turning her back to her. A sense of humiliation had overcome her, never having quite liked the bitter taste of defeat. To her envious gaze, it felt as though [F/N] had won for the first time in her life, and she wasn’t going to let her win the war.

The Kamisatos were more than courteous whenever [F/N]’s sister requested to visit. Ayaka was especially hesitant, yet Ayato let her come by without much trouble, assuring his lover he’d never allow her to cross any boundary. There was a certain distance between them, and [F/N] had no reason to ever doubt her lover. Her friends were all suspicious of her motives, watching as she blatantly faked happiness for her sister.

“You’ve ended up in great hands, big sister!” She’d praise, her voice dripping with hidden venom as she gazed around the luxurious estate. “You’re very lucky, you know?”

“Yes, I’m fully aware.” [F/N] would answer calmly, Ayato watching with amusement as she gave her a forced smile. 

“No, I do believe I’m the luckier one here.” Ayato would intervene, publicly choosing to lace his hand with her own, soothing his lover’s anger all the while studying the way her sister’s expression shifted. It was his own way of assuring he was serious about his decision, yet that seemed to, regrettably, only fuel the fire within that devil of a siren.

Preparations were underway, and before long, the day had finally arrived. Her sister’s attempts at wooing Ayato had fallen in deaf’s ears, the man feigning ignorance as his gaze was focused on none other than his fiancée. It was comical to watch as she quietly grew desperate to win the feud, yet at the same time it only brought on more anger and awkwardness to those around them. In his place, however, Ayato simply waited, knowing exactly well when an enemy wished to strike. He’d kissed his bride before leaving to prepare for the ceremony, quite curious to see her in the bridal wear that had been arranged for her as he himself was prepared. 

There was still some time before the ceremony would begin, and as such he stood in the present room, making sure he looked presentable enough for his own wedding. He breathed in slowly, finishing arranging his sleeves before hearing as the shoji doors opened behind him.

“Ah, Thoma is that you?” He called out, before turning to watch as a familiar figure eyed him. His expression shifted to slight surprise, watching as [F/N]’s sister carefully walked after closing the door behind her. “Oh, apologies for the confusion. Anything I can help you with?”

“Lord Kamisato…” Her voice lowered softly, approaching him as she fluttered her eyelashes slowly. Her kimono dripped from her shoulder slightly, a clear attempt at seduction being ployed as he remained still, not engaged in the slightest by her attempt. “Actually, there is something you may help me with.”

“Oh really?” He hummed, uninterested as he deployed all the remaining patience he had for the girl before him. With a small sigh he continued. “Then do speak, what is it.”

She came closer, uncomfortably so, her body pressing against his as she placed her hands against his chest. Giving him a concerned look, her expression twisted as she sighed dramatically, shaking her head as she voiced her opinion to him.

“My Lord, I simply cannot watch someone of your own stature marry someone as… Rowdy, and unworthy, as my sister.” She nearly wept, grasp holding onto him tighter before she continued. “She wishes nothing more than to use you to benefit our own house, she has no consideration for anyone regarding herself.”

“That is… Quite the accusation.” His voice grew cooler, arm lifting to carefully pry her away from himself. His hold was quick, as if dusting himself off of unwanted dirt, giving himself distance between the two of them before he continued. 

“I wouldn’t say anything that wasn’t true, my Lord.” She dared lie to his face, eyebrows furrowing before she stated she had proof. Ayato scoffed inside his head, watching with hidden amusement as she reached into the cleavage of her kimono to reveal a folded piece of paper. “Please, see for yourself.”

Deciding to humor her for a moment, Ayato picked up the letter, carefully unfolding it before having a quick read. Presenting itself as a love letter to another man, [F/N] apparently spoke of her plans to quickly dispose of Ayato after their wedding, inheriting most of the fortune before quickly disappearing with the lover to whom the letter was concerned. She bit her lip in her place, watching as he read it through before she came closer once more.

“She’s not worthy of you, my Lord.” She placed her hands onto his chest again, head resting against him as she eyed up at him. “She wouldn’t ever love you as someone like you deserves… Please, reconsider this before it’s too late. Consider someone that would treat you right… Like me.”

His gaze shifted, calculating and apparently still processing the information. Thinking she’d caught him in the perfect moment, she continued, hand sliding upwards his chest as she locked eyes with him.

“Lord Kamisato, unlike her, I would support you like a dutiful wife should. I would be able to bring much more to the table, and I’m certain my brother would much rather have our union take place. [F/N] simply wouldn’t know how to please anyone as a wife-”

“I’ve heard enough.” He cut her short, his expression fading to reveal a scowl, a raw portrayal of his emotions for once. His hand was quick to grip her wrist, yanking her away from him with enough care as to not hurt her, but still bringing his point across. He watched as her face shifted to surprise, now her being the one caught off guard. “In fact, I’ve had enough of you.”

“B-But, my Lord-”

“Silence.” His voice grew louder, watching as she flinched in her place. Ayato’s hand shook the measly forged paper she’d given him as proof, scoffing in her face. “If you truly believed a simple forged letter and your word would be enough to deter me from my fiancée, you insult me even more than what I had originally thought.” 

“Are you suggesting I’m lying?!” She gasped with hurt, Ayato curtly replying.

“Precisely what I’m insinuating. Forgive me for believing my fiancée instead of her meddling sister who cannot for the life of her be content for her flesh and blood.” It was his turn to approach her retreating figure, his voice growing harsher as he finally snapped on his lover’s behalf. “Now listen, and listen carefully for I will only warn you once.”

Her eyes widened as her lips trembled, suddenly feeling much smaller when in front of his imposing figure. Never would she have thought someone would speak to her in such a way, rendering her riddled with fear to even attempt to think of an argument. Ayato’s cold presence felt suffocating, leaving her in an hesitant state to even attempt to leave her current predicament.

“I’ve been long enough with [F/N] to know of your true intentions, and they don’t carry a single ounce of goodness. You only covet what isn’t yours, and I cannot even describe how I despise people like you. Those who cannot be happy for those who are closest to them are the absolute worst of people, and I want nothing to do with you aside from the formalities our clans require from us. I will only be cordial to you whenever others are around, so lest you want me to give you a new one, only appear before me when there are others around me. Understood?”

“I-I… I…” She couldn’t even bring her words out, Ayato repeating if she’d heard him. “Y-Yes-” She hiccuped.

“Good. Now, you will attend this wedding, and you will be on your best behavior. If you have nothing good to say to my wife, I do not want you anywhere near her. Now begone from my sight.”

Ayato had never watched anyone scurry away from him in such a pathetic state, sighing in frustration as he rubbed his fingers against his temple.

“Goodness. What a brat.” He murmured under his breath, the sudden cough catching him off guard.

“I knew it couldn’t be good the moment I heard my Lord raise his voice…” Thoma awkwardly chuckled, bringing him a freshly brewed cup of tea to soothe any possible nerves.

“Ah, so you’ve heard.” Ayato sighed, promptly thanking him for the tea before taking it carefully. “Do not speak a word of this to [F/N], yes?”

“I heard nothing.” Thoma nodded his head with a kind smile, offering him to adjust any creases of his ceremonial garbs before the wedding were to begin.

Despite the hushed incident, the wedding went on without any kind of drama or dispute. [F/N] was honestly surprised, noticing how her sister remained in her seat, eyes averting the happy couple as her brother forced her to indeed attend the ceremony, instead of ditching it like she would’ve preferred. After all, he didn’t want any ill will between the two clans, and without knowing of what she had done, he saw no reason as to why she shouldn’t attend.

“She’s been awfully quiet…” [F/N] had whispered to Ayato, who’d given her his ear as he’d tilted his head to her. Glancing back to see her sister remaining on her seat rather angrily, she glanced back at her now husband with a narrowing gaze. “What did you do?”

“Me?” He feigned ignorance, though his enigmatic smile gave it away. “I only asked her cordially to enjoy our wedding.” He justified himself, his hold on her hand tightening as his thumb stroked the back of her hand.

[F/N] could only shake her head, her bright smile being something Ayato wouldn’t do just about anything to protect. She sighed quietly, a silent thank you being given to him as she was now able to enjoy the rest of their wedding alongside him, together starting a new chapter as a strong and prosperous couple.

Needless to say, [F/N] found a great amount of joy in sharing with her family every little bit of good news she had, watching with pleasure as her sister festered in her unfounded jealousy she’d brought on herself. Ah, including the surprising, albeit still more than welcomed, pregnancy that soon followed their wedding, of course.

[ask-the-royal-absol]

(It has been one year since I joined the pokeask community with my silly absol. One whole year. How did I get here? Like, damn. It’s just been such a lovely community and I’ve met some truly wonderful people.

I’m sorry I couldn’t get more of you on here. I wish I had the time to draw each and every one of you. This is why I needed the head shot so thank you to everyone who sent it over. Thank you to everyone in this community for being my inspirations, my joy and my friends. I cannot thank you enough. If I could make you all something more to say thank you, I would. (Also forgive me if the image quality is garbage. Tumblr does that sometimes. If you click on it, it'll be clearer.)

I suppose I’ll just go on and say I’ve always admired the community from afar. So many stories I was following. So many inspirational people. The events. The characters. They are all so wonderful. And I followed these blogs for years.

Getting hooked into everything about the ask blog community. At first, I was going to making an ask blog about a royal Goodra/Vespiquen fusion who goes to other places to make political connections for their hive. I drew up a couple of concepts but I didn’t go ahead with it.

I kept following the community, constantly being inspired and amazed by everyone inside of it. I’d wanted to join a community for a while. At first, I joined the Pokémon fusion community. It was fun. I met some great people. But, after a few years, it didn’t fill me with joy. I did fusions on multiple platforms, even making some fusions for the infinite fusions game (they’re still in there). I had a go with commissions. It just became a bit of a chore.

I tried making my own region. It only lasted a month. It left a gap which I didn’t know how to fill. I also did dnd with friends which mostly satisfied this but we didn’t do it consistently enough. I definitely miss doing it. I probably did fusions for 6 years. The blogs are still up. There was nothing I wanted to draw consistently.

Near the end of last year, I had a really tough time. My mental health took a really big dip and I was struggling. It was an incredibly dark time. I didn’t have much going on. Maybe we were doing dnd. I don’t remember though. I started drawing Pokémon because I wasn’t in the mood to draw dnd art.

I don’t know why but I started to draw an absol. I think it may have been inspired by my current dnd character. As I was drawing this absol, ideas started to form in my mind about who this absol was and the world they were from. Ideas kept flowing and flowing.

Once the absol was finished, I drew another character, and another and another. And I just kept drawing. Soon, I started drawing maps and a prophecy for this absol and their world. The name Destino came from the word Destiny. It brought me so much joy. I worked on it for a few days and put it to the side.

Then came around the 27th December 2022. I looked back on my planning for this world and thought perhaps I could turn it into an ask blog. At first, I was so nervous. I didn’t want to go through with it. My partner convinced me to make the blog. That’s when I began to draw the first post. And on December 29th 2022, I created the blog and made a reference post for Destino.

Soon, the first post was posted and I got asks. Exciting stuff! And it was so much fun deciding how Destino would respond. More asks kept coming and I eventually started sending asks to others. The most exciting part would have to be seeing people follow me who I was a huge fan of. Gonna be honest, I’m still so incredibly excited when talking to these people and when they like my stuff.

My love for this blog grew and I’ve spent a lot of my time working on it. I have loved each and every moment of it. It was fun having this smug, egotistical absol interacting with many characters who I am a huge fan of and entertaining to see their reactions. Destino was becoming a bit of a thing. Memes were made of Destino. Destino was insulting every legendary they could come across. For me, it was hilarious. And it seemed others were enjoying their antics too.

I am incredibly thankful each day with every interaction, every like, every follow, every reblog, etc. I’ve had. I’m grateful for this entire community. Every one of you has been so friendly and I love talking to you. This community has filled a void which I wasn’t sure would be filled. And I hope I can continue loving being in this community for a while. Destino is going to stick around for a while. I’ve got big plans for them and I hope to enjoy this journey with you all.

Thank you everyone. I hope I can continue to work with you all and have fun! Let’s get ready for another year of Destino.)

[eliotlime]

November update post thing

Drawing of me watching short-form video content without sound vs one where I am lol

If you use short-form video platforms of any kind and would like to help me with my survey you can do so here! Though I'll probably be closing it sometime next week (2nd November 2024 ish) to collate the data for submission.

I've got a metric tonne of deadlines due next week but you know what it's blog update time!!

This is also not going to be scheduled to post because I usually write these on the 29th but I forgot! So it's getting posted now!!

💀 School..

Yeap as I've said I'm in school so that's still in progress, I have completely no idea what I'm doing everyday and as it turns out no time to worry about it either I got deadlines baby!!!

I mean in theory I understand but it's all a big question mark to me, like i need to be reassured like a nervous dog that I'm doing the right thing and what not

And because of that I'm real sorry about pushing the Abacelsus zine to the back burner, I actually got quite a lot of it done before I had to lock in for school of course.

And though I said I had a lot of sketches I didn't post well they were shittier than I liked them to be so I wanted to make it look nicer. Oh well dems the breaks.

Another screenie of my school work, they didn't really go into depth about how to specifically design stuff so it's basically me frankenstien-ing stuff I've seen existing and just trying my best lol

I mean.. overall it's funnnn... i guess... I do like projects but everyone in my class are adults with established jobs or goals. Even those who are around my age seem to know what they're aiming for too, feels like I'm an unemployed little sucker fumbling in the dark. Can be humiliating I won't lie, why is learning something new so embarrassing?

Aside from that I'm seeing people be so social online while studying too and it's almost mesmerizing, it's definitely survivor bias but those that can balance it are fascinating to me.

📖Anthology Update

Agh enough of that debbie downer bullshit, I'll tell you what I've also got due next week! That's right!! The drafts for my anthology!

Screenie of one of the panels I posted onto my ko-fi discord!

I'm not even half way done and it's due on the 6th of December. I'm beyond FUCKED. Anyway I can get it done by then but the school shit is sucking the life out of me through my ears.

☕ Ko-Fi Page

Deadlines aside I've also randomly launched my Ko-fi Membership page! I haven't quite had the time to properly promote it but it's there and I've been updating it every so often

I've got stuff up there already and comics of things that aren't polished (or sfw) enough for me to post. Especially if you're interested in my characters and would like to support me, here's a good hub to check all of it out!

The Ko-fi Discord updates the most frequently, basically every time I draw anything (Which is quite often!). The actual ko-fi gallery is only being updated every week to prevent spam.

Shout out to my one ko-fi member, wormfriend. Right now it's quite funny to have just the one but I definitely would like more so plz join!!! I promise I draw a lot!!!

🌯 Wrapping it up...

That's all I've got for you this month, real grind-y and uneventful but hey some moths are like that. I talked about opening my commissions again in December and I intend to keep that promise but as of yet the first week is not looking too hot haha. I'll consider it on the 7th but whuff it's real packed right now!

I don't have really anything else to say or add that isn't either

a) incredibly negative and self deprecating

or

b) cussing the shit out of disrespectful transphobic anonymous asks I've been getting

so I'm just going to end this hastily written blog update here and get back to work!

I leave you with this cool down drawing of a honda civic and my attempts at a motorcycle that can also hover in the air.

As always thank you so much for reading and I've been so busy I haven't even had time to work on my annual redraw that's been sitting in my folders gah! If you’d like to support me, here’s my ko-fi page again and my itchi.io & gumroad as well.

If you have any questions or just generally want to talk to me, my DMs and askbox is always open! Any professional enquires can be sent towards my email as well: eliotlime@gmail.com

XOXO, Stay weird!

-Eliot :)

[kisscara]

can i req scara w a motherly s/o? like he gets a lil injured and s/o just babies him? i feel like that would be funny lmao

doctor, help me! [scaramouche x gn!reader] ⎯⎯ fluff, wanderer!scaramouche

a/n: keeping everyone safe from the angst.. for now. anyways thank u for requesting, anon :3 it's short and simple but i still hope u like it nonetheless ^__^

"kuni..." you cry out, "if you keep on doing this, i'm going to end up leaving you!"

scaramouche merely stares at you with a deadpan expression from across the dinner table. "(name), i pricked my finger on a stick." he furrows his brow and watches as you continue to dramatically throw a tantrum.

"it doesn't matter!" you continue to furiously dab a ball of cotton that's lightly wettened with alcohol against his fingertip. scaramouche draws out a tiring sigh, muttering, "sometimes, i wonder whether you're my lover or my doctor."

but he has to admit, he likes seeing you like this. distraught by his safety and running all over the place, looking for the first aid kit if he got something as simple as a paper cut. "your skin is so beautiful and your safety is my top priority, yet you get into these types of dangers on the daily!"

ah, there you go again. your endearing praise for him mixed with your tone of worry. what would he do without you? scaramouche doesn't reply this time, but it's more like he's struck with silence. with his lips slightly agape, he admires your face.

you're always telling him how pretty he looks, how soft his face is, how alluring his eyes are, but not once has he seen himself that way. scaramouche doesn't notice how a smile tugs at the corner of his lips when he sees you gnawing on your bottom lip in fixation, continuing to nurse his tiny wound.

you straighten your posture and put away the cotton ball. pressing a kiss to his finger, you gently blow on it afterwards. "there, all better. that must have been hell for you to go through!" you exclaim with a frown, tightly embracing him in your arms. scaramouche could only remain silent.

the next day, he'd gone to help the traveler with their commissions. of course, he had to go through the usual routine, with you clinging to his arm, whining his ear off to refrain from hurting himself too much. "oh, what a worrywart," he mumbles aloud, catching the attention of his traveling companion.

"is it about (name) again?" aether queries with a laugh. scaramouche gives him a side glance before loudly exhaling. "i just don't understand why they're so protective of me and my well-being. it's not like my body belongs to them, does it?"

paimon floats next to aether and while shaking her head, she says, "you're right, it doesn't belong to them. but they are your (s/o), correct?" aether looks back to scaramouche, who gazes towards sumeru's wide horizon and nods as a response.

"then it makes perfect sense! they're your (s/o) as much as you're theirs, so of course they'd want you to stay safe! right, traveler?" paimon carefully nudges aether against the shoulder and aether smiles, "do you understand now, wanderer?" scaramouche knits his brows together.

love is still such a foreign concept to him.

paimon claps her hands together for a few times, "here, i got a more simple way of explaining it! say, someone were to hurt them, physically or verbally, would you want that?" scaramouche instantly replies and faces the odd fairy while crossing his arms, "no, who do you think i am?"

paimon points out, "there it is! see, that's how (name) feels about you. with you... erm, getting into physical brawls everyday, they'd definitely feel concerned, don't you think?" scaramouche's pupils dilate in realization. is that how much you mean to him, for you to constantly baby him over the littlest things?

a pink tint arises on his face and he holds the brim of his hat, head turning the other way. "tsk, i wouldn't expect any less of them." scaramouche grows flustered when he realizes paimon giggling and aether attempting to hide his wide grin.

"(name)? i'm bac-"

scaramouche lets out a muffled noise of surprise when you rush to him, your arms immediately enveloping his torso. "i missed you..." you bury your face into his shoulder and scaramouche chuckles. "i missed you too, my dear." he tilts your chin upwards with his finger and you frown.

"did you hurt yourself?" you ask. this time, of all times, he doesn't fail to notice the way you tighten your grip on his clothes. scaramouche holds your hand against his face and sighs, "no. i tried my best not to." you beam, "really?" scaramouche kisses your fingertips one by one and he closes his eyes.

"thank you, (name), for loving and caring for me."

© kisscara

[xinmin-exe]

(Hey there. Your work is so amazing that I need MORE! :3)

How would Shigaraki and LOV react on his s/o, who is rich and caring and she bought them a house in the woods, so they can hide when the heroes are near? Would they like to go there for a vacation with her? To just chill in the nature?

(Thank you so much for your amazing work 🤍)

Hiiiiiiii I’m so honored you like my work! ☺️☺️ I hope you like this too!!

Shigaraki with Rich!Reader

Shigaraki and the League would be incredible suspicious at first

They expected you to be some rich kid who’s “rebelling from their daddy” (which dabi understood) and trying to make their family mad

Who could blame them? You came in and told them you wanted to help the cause, but you didn’t know the first thing about fighting or stealth. “My father always paid bodyguards to protect me” Frankly, Shigaraki was ready to kick you out from day 1.

But when you came back with information about the Hero Commission’s next move (unprompted I add) they were intrigued

Shigaraki realized you could get in close like they never could. You were smart, friendly, and most importantly, the daughter/son of a wealthy, influential family

He knew that he could use that to his advantage. Eventually, he began accompanying you out, wanting to make sure you weren’t double crossing them. He would stalk behind you about 10-15 feet, keeping out of your way and letting you do your work

When the two of you would return and after telling the league what you found you, you and toga and Magne would gush on and on about how attractive your date was

Spinner and dabi would gag and leave the room, Mr. Compress would chuckle and make a comment on “the good old school girl crush” behind making his exit, but not Tomura

He lurked around the bar afterwards, drinking some cocktail Kurogiri make and listening in. (Yes I headcanon Tomura as a cocktail man, don’t come at me)

It irritated him endlessly how much you talked about your date, going on for hours about how you enjoyed it

His hands would twitch and he could feel the need to dust someone increase exponentially. He decided to not stay around afterwards anymore, but the feeling never went away

He thought it was just his annoyance of gossip, but even when he wasn’t there, the feeling lingered.

Long story short, one night Tomura dusted your date immediately after you ended the night and confessed (stuttering and scratching his neck while doing so)

But after confessing to you, the young leader became.. less of as asshole and more.. mature

By that point, you had settled into being a part of the LoV and everyone had taken quite a liking to you (even dabi if you can believe it)

Things only got better for the league when you were able to steal money from your father and buy them a much better, bigger hideout.

“My father had millions upon millions of yen, he’s not gonna notice if a few million go missing”

It was an old, a banded building on the outskirts of town. With a kitchen, multiple bedrooms and bathrooms, and even a basement that the LoV converted into a training area.

While they kept using the bar as their main HQ, most of the time if someone wasn’t on a mission, they could be found in the building you bought

They even named the building “Y/N’s Mansion” (spinner came up with the name)

The Relationship

Tomura’s relationship with you was, frankly, the best thing to happen to the league

Even though sometimes he still got annoyed with how privileged you seemed, he never really could bring himself to hate you

You were always kind and generous, never really thinking about yourself

You always made sure to be ready with the first aid kit when anyone came back from missions and you always made an effort to learn about each one of them

The first time Tomura let you touch his skin, you were so delicate and soft. Treating him like a glass figure, careful not to break him

Before you, he had never been shown such tenderness, it was a new sensation for him that he swears he will never get used to it

He wanted to show you the same thing, so he forced Dabi to go out and steal some artist. gloves for him

Your skin felt so.. delicate underneath his rough palm that he almost convinced himself that you were a real angel

You were still naive to the way of the world, but Tomura wanted to keep it that way

He was like your scary dog privileges and "barked" at anyone who even looked at you wrong

A guy stared too long at the connivence story? Dusted later that night

Someone made an unwanted advance at a bar or club? They suddenly go missing a few minutes later

Dabi makes some snide comment about you? Tomura is up in his face, glaring and threatening him (Kurogiri has had to break up too many confrontations)

Overall, Tomura may have been suspicious of you but in reality you have become the single, most important thing in his life

[crazy56u]

It's late, I'm bored, I wanna ramble about a thing.

So, a while back, I did that thing again where I had an art commission made (shoutout @thenovika); it never got shared on here, but it was shared on other places. And I feel like talking about it a little bit, just for kicks. And also to share the deep lore that's been burning in my head concerning it, some of which might not 100% track, but fuck it, it's my imagination, and I decide the path it takes.

To start, said commission is this:

(shifting to "Read More" mode now)

Firstly, yes, this is using "Quantum Leap Jesus Painting" as a reference.

Believe it or not, this is the last time this becomes relevant in this rant; things are gonna deviate quick here.

Secondly, this post is mainly a (very long delayed) response to some people's interpretation of what is going on in the image; namely, that Julie-Su is dead.

This was never my intention... however, admittedly, my intention is somewhat worse. Essentially, the intrusive thoughts were angry.

Let me explain: For those unaware, in the Archie comics, prior to the Big Legal Kerfluffle that resulted in the SGW reboot, Rouge was, to be blunt, a self-serving bastard, and basically didn't give a shit that Knuckles had a girlfriend.

Later on in the comic, Knuckles was going through The Shit due to briefly being evil (long fucking story) and trying to "free" people from technology and shit, and decided after everything was said and done that he needed to self-isolate.

Fast forward two issues, and Knuckles decides to return to public life... mainly thanks to Rouge wanting to further an agenda (that I don't really think gets revealed, given how the comics soon quickly fall down a cliff in terms of #shenangans and #lawsuits).

And here is where the thoughts started getting loud; Rouge could've tried to have it both ways: Get Knuckles back in to the fight, and also keep him to herself.

After all, Knuckles did have a good reason to stay away from Julie-Su after The Shit happened...

Yeah, he almost did that; stands to reason he could be convinced to keep his distance... or, rather, be convinced Julie-Su wanted to keep her distance.

Here is where the real shit kicks into gear with how this plays out in my brain: In order to play both sides (and, this is important, there is a very small window of opportunity Rouge would have her to prevent Knuckles from properly reuniting with her), Rouge confronts Julie-Su privately shortly after The Shit and, upon pushing just the right buttons (basically insinuating to her that it was her fault Knuckles went through The Shit at all), Rouge manipulates her into having that long-awaited rematch between the two of them in a private location... where she basically wipes the floor with her (she can kick Knuckles' ass just fine, this wouldn't be nothing in comparison; plus, cybernetics can be shorted out, just a tip), and knocks her out (see the first image).

Now.

You may have noticed my decision to use the phrase "play both sides".

Well, that's because that was what I was thinking of.

As much as she wanted Knuckles for herself, Rouge wouldn't kill Julie-Su directly.

She'd kill the idea of her.

She'd take her home. To a familiar face.

Who is on the record not above screwing with Julie-Su's brain to get what she wants.

(Plus, it's implied that chip never came out...)

And now also has a new partner in crime to help make the transition process smoother.

And Rouge 100% would A) know how to contact Lien-Da, B) talk her into taking part in this plan, and C) turn a blind eye to it all after the fact.

So, yes, in a very warped sense, everyone wins.

Knuckles gets to start moving on from The Shit, no longer burdened with one of the biggest reminders of how deep that went.

Rouge gets her prize.

Lien-Da gets to clear the slate and start fresh with a new ally, and a new member of the Dark Egg Legion.

And as far as everyone is concerned, Julie-Su has left for greener pastures, for her own good.

Rouge wouldn't kill Julie-Su. Not directly. Too many lost resources that way.

...but maybe it'd be merciful the other way around...