#title sucks

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

so we're just straight up lying about the book we're adapting now alright cool

[miiilowo]

SO WON'T YOU COME WITH ME, AND TASTE IMMORTALITY?

[paramorefold]

The Only Exception (2010)

Still Into You (2013)

Hard Times (2017)

Thick Skull (2024)

BONUS: Now (2013)

[izzybluebell]

Huevember: Day 3 - Amber Stalker 👁️🌲🌟

[effemar]

AND IF THAT'S ALL THAT I'M GONNA BE / WON'T YOU BREAK THE CHAIN WITH ME?

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Don’t Call Him Jealous

—

Time written-6:10 p.m.

Jason Todd/fem!reader smut (I’m on mobile so image is huge, but c’mon it’s Jason. Take him in)

—

“Look at that, babe,” His hot, erotic rumble roared your heart into an irritating, intense drum in your chest, heating up the tips of your ears.

“It’s crying for me, begging me to have a taste.”

Hungry eyes kept an intense focus on the mirror in front of you both, the hardwood floor pooling with your arousal. He held both your legs junction over his propped up knees, keeping you spread open for his viewing pleasure alone.

Your bare chest heaved with sweat, perky nipples heavily flushed from countless pinches in between his thumbs. Repeated begs for him to slow down to give you an ounce of a break fell on deaf ears, a forearm secured between the valley of your tits, grasping you close as he fucked you with his fingers.

Overstimulation became your toxic lover, sparking you up in pain with the promise of pleasure, quickly following eachother in an endless loop.

Bucking away didn’t help, he’d only hook his fingers against your G-spot harder, forcing your ass back against his hard, girthy cock, swollen and throbbing for pussy behind the prison of his red gym shorts.

You were in a dress, at one point. A dress you kept in its protective plastic hanger for weeks. Now, it laid abandoned, torn and neglected scraps on the ground since the second Jason saw you in it.

What was his main concern about it? “Nothing.”

The fabric was a rich, deep silky blue, caressing your body perfectly in every way. His biggest issue was a certain cocky bastard, who’s signature color just so happens to lay in pieces on the ground.

Yes, he’d get calls and texts from the rest once they realize he failed to attend yet another Gala. Yes, they’d most likely realize that it wasn’t you who had planned to miss it in the first place.

The last thing he wanted was said certain cocky Grayson to make even so much as a thought of a snarky comment on such. Knowing him, he would.

It was all Jason; the man who didn’t bother to think of the tux he was supposed to have picked up from the dry cleaners before coming home from the gym.

All he had on hand was you, working up to your fourth climax in front of your bedroom mirror. A beautiful, erotic mess of smeared lipstick and cloudy mascara tears, moaning endlessly on his fingers before working you open on his cock.

Never catch him thinking he wasn’t a giver. It was his second favorite sport.

“Pretty, pretty,” Jason murmurs against your neck, kissing along your flushed skin. “Pretty, pretty girl. Y’know what I want, huh? Give it to me.”

“C-C-Can’t,” you exhale, both your hands clutching his working forearm, needlessly crying out broken words and drawn out cries as the fire in your tense tummy threatened to burst.

“J-Jay, J-J-Jay, I-I can’t! S’too much!!”

“Come on, babygirl. Don’t be like that, give me what I want. Come on, baby. Come on, come on.”

He urges via lustfully hasty words in your right ear, bucking his fingers deeper and faster into your stretched walls, the palm of his calloused hand directly abusing your swollen, rosy little clit.

Your nails dig deeper into his forearm, deep enough to add onto his collection of angry scars as liquid heat surges through your veins. A collection of trembling cries erupted from your quivering, rouge smeared lips as his palm grew soaked.

He grunts out a pleased groan in tandem with yours, nearly drowned out by your whimpering as if he was the one that came, forcing every nerve in your body to shiver.

“There we go,” Jason cooes, working his fingers until he picks up on those irritated, little overstimulated whines he recognized by memory, telling him to slow down without use of words.

Only, your body didn’t give him what he wanted. Almost, but not yet.

He listened for now, retreating his fingers, lingering about to pry your soaked lips apart, biting back a deep growl at your soaked, gaping pink hole.

Never more than now did he want to stuff you full, but he was working for something a little more… eye catching.

He enjoyed what he saw right now; maroon lipstick smeared off the edges of your lips, transferred onto his the second he kissed you against your mirror. Pink scratches and dabbled love bites that would morph into rich, wine bruises littering your neck and shoulders.

Red, pure red from your blooming cheeks, aroused skin, sore breasts, and abused pussy.

A dirty, surface drenching show only your body could provide, ignited by his favorite hue of color, by any means necessary. So. why stop at four?

Without a word, Jason dips a finger back inside your cavern, feeling your body nearly wince from the intrusion, a low little whine escaping your deflated lungs.

“Jasooon,” you croak, your rising hips instantly jolted back against his lap by a strong grip on your hip, followed by the click of his tongue. “Please—“

“Not done yet, Princess,” he murmurs, kissing along your neck as his other finger joins in, expertly finding your sweet spot and curling his fingers, determined to go for five.

Blue wasn’t a good color on you anyway.

[vypridae]

my au's sun and moon after their first day/night out without the other. posting these because i have major art block and wanna post at least SOMETHING for yall BFGJHFGHKJF

(context for au below cut)

so in my au, sun and moon were originally two separate animatronics. they performed together at the theatre for a while. at some point, around the time bonnie was suddenly replaced, fazbear ent. LLC.'s profits went down. so, the company's ceo (who shant be named) provided the techs with a few ideas to save the company money, or make them more money to make up for the loss with bonnie's disappearance. one of those was scrapping sun and moon.

sun and moon were the techs' pride and joy at the time. but, with losing money (and being threatened to be replaced if they couldn't get profits up somehow), the techs decided that sun & moon's theatre performances weren't working. so, they put them in the superstar daycare instead of the theatre; a lot of adults kept being fired from the daycare and that was also losing the company money, so why not get rid of the human daycare staffing altogether? along with that, they had come to the realization that having two animatronics in one small area like this would be cause for costly monthly repairs. so, they decided to redo the attendant altogether and put both ai's in the same body. used old parts from their other bodies to build this one, so as to save money. spent a lot of time on them, since they were the tech's pride & joy, but couldn't get the transition and ai bugs smoothed out in efficient time, so they gave up. threw the attendant into the daycare and started focusing on the glamrocks and DJMM, the ones that actually made a lot of money for the company.

the art takes place that first night sun and moon come into consciousness, neither of them realizing they can speak to the other in their joint headspace, nor realizing how. this is that first day/night without the other.

[v10l3tz-thmblr]

Slow dance with you.

Now this is crazy with no heterosexual explanation. Told yall this would be my fruitiest art 😩

Oh and I think Espio should run !

[gamergirl929]

You're Mine and Only Mine (I'm Yours and Only Yours) (Alex Morgan x Reader)

It all started with a bit of harmless flirting to get you riled up, something Alex Morgan knew would lead to a confrontation before you took her home and had your way with her, but when the man's flirting becomes a bit too forward, you step in, something that leads you to having your way with the woman somewhere a little more public than home.

Anonymous Request: Alex Morgan/G!P Reader, jealous sex in an alleyway behind a bar, and marathon sex.

Your lip curled as your grip on your tumbler tightened, your eyes burning holes in the back of the head of the man currently flirting shamelessly with your fiancé.  

Every so often, she’d glance your way, shooting you a playful wink, but making no attempts to move away from the man, whose intentions were clear.  

“She’s just doing it to get a rise out of you.” Kelley says, giving you a nudge and you grunt.  

“Well, it’s working.” You mumble sipping your drink, grimacing at the taste.  

Alex knew what would happen if she got a rise out of you, she knew that you’d either confront the person flirting with her or drag her home and absolutely have your way with her.  

Your eyes narrow as you watch the man lean towards her, whispering something in her ear that makes her giggle, your nostrils flaring.  

You turn away angrily, unable to watch the man blatantly flirt with your girlfriend any longer.  

Your fingers drummed against the bar as you tried to focus on your drink, the ice bobbing slightly within then dark liquid.  

“What do you say we get out of here...?”  

Your head snaps upwards as you turn abruptly towards your girlfriend, the woman smiling softly at the man, who now has a hand on her forearm.  

You’re up in an instant, shoving his hand off of her as you slip an arm around her middle.  

“She’s not going anywhere with you.” You growl, Alex’s hand landing on the small of your back. 

The man scoffs.  

“I think she’s the one who should make that decision.” He says, turning to Alex with a charming smile, the woman shaking her head, her lips parting.  

“My fiancé, isn’t going anywhere with you.” You say, cutting off the woman, your teeth bared.  

The man snorts.  

“Well, your fiancé was just all over me, maybe she’s having second thoughts.”  

Your blood was boiling, your hands balling into fists.  

The man’s throat noticeably bobs at the look on your face, the muscle in your jaw jumping as you take a step closer, the man visibly shrinking.  

You weren’t small by any means, you were a goalkeeper on the San Diego Wave for years, and you completely dwarfed the man now cowering in front of you.  

“Yeah, if I were you, I’d get out of here.” Kelley says from behind him, the man slipping from between you and the defender before scurrying out of the bar, your darkened Y/E/C orbs on him the entire way.  

“Hey...”  

Your attention is pulled away from the door when Alex steps into view, the woman looking noticeably regretful.  

“I-I’m sorry...” She says, cupping your cheeks and you turn away with a frown.  

You knew Alex had only started to flirt to get a rise out of you, but you couldn’t help but replay the man’s words in your head.  

What if she WAS having second thoughts...? 

You swirl the contents of your glass before downing it, slamming the tumbler down before you turn and make your way down the hall towards the restroom, your fiancé frowning.  

Alex blows a raspberry as she takes your empty seat at the bar, her best friend turning towards her a brow arched.  

“Well, THAT didn’t go as planned.” Alex sighs, tracing the rim of your empty glass.  

Kelley huffs.  

“Yeah, maybe you should go check on Y/N.” She says, nodding towards the bathroom, her eyes widening when she sees you slipping out the back door of the bar.  

“Yeah, I will.” She says, moving to her feet and following after you, the woman’s breath hitching sharply when you press her against the brick wall of the bar’s exterior.  

Alex’s blue orbs lock with your Y/E/C’s, a fire smoldering behind your eyes that makes her weak at the knees.  

You surge forwards, pressing your lips hard against hers, your tongue pushing its way past her lips.  

Alex moans as you hitch her leg up and around your waist as your kiss, your tongue dominating hers easily.  

The forward is unable to stop a moan from tumbling out of her mouth as your hand sneaks up her dress and between her legs, your fingers tracing her slit through her panties before you draw relentless circles against her clit.  

“Fuck.” She moans, wrapping her arms tightly around you as you work mercilessly between her legs.  

Unsurprisingly, you were hard, the woman you loved moaning in your arms combined with the thrill of being caught made you harden rather quickly.  

Alex’s brows furrow, the woman whining when your hand leaves the apex of her thighs, the woman now significantly wet, which is exactly what you wanted.  

“The only thing you’re coming on is my cock.” You say, Alex's eyes widening when you undo your pants, pulling your zipper down slowly.  

You tug your pants down slightly, enough for your erection to spring free, Alex eyeing it hungrily.  

She spreads her legs allowing you to push her panties to the side before running your head between her lower lips, the woman sighing.  

“Do you want to keep going?” You ask, stilling, waiting for your fiancé to give you the go ahead. 

“Yes.” She nods rapidly, whimpering when you teasingly prod against her entrance.  

“Just, let me know if you want to stop, okay?” You ask, earning a rapid nod, Alex’s arms slipping beneath your own, her hands splayed on your back.  

In one swift motion, you thrust into her, the woman gasping loudly against your neck, her walls fluttering around you.  

Alex groans as you cock your hips upwards, your member reaching places only you could reach. 

“Who does this belong to...?” You ask, thrusting harder, Alex’s mouth agape as you thrust into her rapidly.  

Alex’s mouth opens and closes, the woman unable to find her words as she bounces on your cock, the appendage slipping in and out of her rapidly.  

“Whose is it, Alex?” You ask, thrusting up into her with authority, the woman moaning loudly as you slam into her roughly.  

“It’s yours.” She moans, her nails digging into your back.  

“Say it louder, whose pussy is this?” You ask, the woman bouncing erratically on your cock.  

“It’s yours!” She yells, hooking a leg up around your waist, her breath hitching rapidly.  

The woman comes undone on your cock, moaning loudly into your chest as she shakes in your hold, her walls clamping down around your member.  

You thrust up into her, groaning when you too reach your climax, filling the woman with your seed.  

She trembles in your hold as you kiss her neck, continuing to thrust gently until you both still.  

You remain sheathed in her as you kiss her neck repeatedly, your nose running along her jawline before your lips find hers, the two of you kissing softly.  

You kiss lazily for a minute or so before you part, the woman grunting when your member slips out of her, leaving a literal mess in her panties.  

“I-I didn’t hurt you, did I?” You ask worriedly, fearful that you’d let your jealousy and anger get the best of you.  

She shakes her head rapidly.  

“No, exact opposite.” She laughs, and you exhale loudly, the breath you were holding finally releasing.  

“Honestly, this was the outcome I wanted.” She smirks and you chuckle.  

“Oh really?” You ask and she giggles.  

“I guess I didn’t expect him to come on so strongly.” She mumbles and you snort.  

“He ran away pretty quickly.” You chuckle, Alex ducking down to press sloppy kisses to your neck.  

“What do you say we take this home?” She asks, nibbling on your pulse point.  

She lets out a squeak when your hands run from the small of her back to her ass, giving it a squeeze.  

“I like the sound of that.” You say, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips.  

“We should PROBABLY tell Kelley we’re leaving.” She giggles against your lips, and you nod, the two of you making yourselves presentable before slipping back into the bar.  

Kelley spots you from across the room, the woman rolling her eyes, her brows arched.  

“Calling it a night?” She asks and you shrug apologetically.  

“Something came up.” Alex says and Kelley snorts.  

“Oh, I bet it did.” She laughs and your cheeks flush.  

“You forgot your zipper.” She says, motioning to your pants, your flush deepening as you tug your zipper up.  

Alex gives her a nudge as she takes your hand, dragging you towards the bar’s entrance.  

Kelley rolls her eyes, the woman making her way out of the bar a few moments later, scoffing when she sees the two of you zipping out of the parking lot and down the road.  

She shakes her head, mumbling to herself as she heads to her car.  

“An alleyway, seriously?”

************************************************************************

The second the front door slammed shut behind you, the two of you are kissing, your clothes strewn along the floor as you fumble your way through the house and towards the bedroom.  

You eventually reach the bed, depositing Alex, who you’d been carrying on its surface.  

She crawls to the end of the bed, pushing herself up to her knees before shedding your boxers, taking your semi-hard cock in her hands.  

“Fuck.” You grunt, tilting your head back as she lavishes your member with attention, stroking it until you’re fully erect.  

Alex’s smirks devilishly as she leans in, her tongue running along your length.  

“Shit.” You moan, the woman taking your head into her mouth.  

You do your best to keep yourself from thrusting further into her mouth, the woman laying special attention to your head before taking the rest of your length into her mouth, her head bobbing up and down.  

“Feels so good.” You groan, the woman taking nearly your entire member into her mouth, which was no small feat.  

It isn’t long before she’s releasing your cock with a pop, the woman taking in some air before she’s back at it again.  

Your thighs start to shake, your hips trusting slightly upward, pushing your cock further into her mouth.  

“I-I’m gonna come.” You moan, groaning when Alex’s hands grab your ass, the woman pulling your hips forward, encouraging you to thrust into her mouth.  

You stiffen moments later, groaning loudly as you come undone, Alex unwilling to let a drop of your release go anywhere besides down her throat.  

She licks you clean, releasing your head with a slurp, the sound making your hips stutter.  

“That was--” You pause, whimpering as you’re hit by what can only be described as an aftershock. 

You whimper when she again takes you into your mouth, sure to catch the tiny bit of your release that had crept out.  

Alex gasps when you push her backwards onto the bed, the woman shuffling upwards until her head hits the pillows at the head of the bed.  

Thankfully, in your fumbling towards the bedroom, Alex had been completely stripped bare, no barrier between your hands and her skin.  

Her hips arch off the bed as you trail down her body, your lips wrapping around one of her nipples as you give it a suckle, earning a whimper in response.  

You work your way down her body, your tongue swiping at your lips when you reach your destination.  

“Oh, Oh shit!” Alex cries out when you dive between her legs with no sense of hesitation, your tongue running along her slit before pushing your way between her lips, purposely avoiding her clit as you revel in her taste.  

“You did a LOT of teasing tonight, Morgan.” You say, your eyes meeting hers, the woman visibly pouting.  

“I think it’s time for payback.” You wink, again burying your face between her legs, the forward knowing she was in for a long night.  

************************************************************************

A bead of sweat ran down Alex’s face as you licked the apex of her thighs, the woman soaked and on the precipice of a powerful orgasm.  

You’d indeed gotten your payback, continuing to work her up before pulling away from the apex of her thighs, the woman whining loudly each and every time.  

It’s when you climb entirely on top of her that she groans.  

“I-I’m so close, pl-please.” She stutters, her eyes glassy and you smirk, glancing between your bodies.  

“Can you take me?” You ask as you run your head between her soaked lips, the woman moaning.  

“Please.” She moans, wrapping her legs around you, her feet against your ass as she pulls you in, your head slipping into her tight heat.  

“Fuck.” Alex sighs as you continue sliding into her until you bottom out, the woman’s walls fluttering rapidly around you.  

“You’re gonna come so hard.” You comment as you give your hips a thrust, the woman’s mouth agape as you thrust into her. 

Alex started to tremble, her eyes almost immediately rolling into the back of her head as she screams loudly, her orgasm ripping through her.  

You continue your thrusts, the woman shuddering violently, her toes curling almost painfully as her walls clamp down around you.  

Watching the woman, you wanted to marry have such a powerful orgasm throws your headlong into your own, your member buried deep inside her as your seed spurts from your tip making its home within her. 

The two of you tremble, your muscles contracting as you hover over Alex, the woman blinking rapidly, in a complete state of bliss.  

“God, that was so fucking good.” She says, her chest rising and falling rapidly.  

You duck down, pressing a kiss to her lips, a kiss that immediately grows heated, your tongues tangling.  

It’s only when Alex moans that you realize you were thrusting into her again, her walls warm and welcoming.  

In one swift motion, your positions are switched, your eyes widening when you see Alex hovering over you, the woman sinking down onto your hard cock.  

“Jesus.” You sigh, the woman’s tongue swiping at her lips, her brows furrowed as she lifts her hips before dropping them back down, your member sliding in and out of her tight heat.  

She tilts her head back, gripping her breasts as she rides you, wanting to tumble over the edge at least one more time before the two of you collapse out of exhaustion.  

You give her thighs a slap, the woman whimpering as you thrust your hips upwards, establishing a rhythm.  

“S-So good.” Alex whispers, her movements quickly becoming irregular.  

You thrust upwards as rapidly as you can, Alex eventually stiffening, a raspy moan crawling up her throat as she comes for a third time that night, her muscles contracting as she spasms.  

You thrust roughly upwards, burying yourself in her as you too orgasm, Alex’s walls milking you for all you’re worth.  

Alex collapses on top of you, your member slipping out of her, leaving a mess in its wake.  

She presses a few tender kisses to your lips before burying her face in your neck, still attempting to catch her breath.  

“That was...” She pauses, a grin stretching across your face.  

“Incredible.” You pant and she giggles.  

“Yeah.” She whispers against your neck, her hot breath dampening your already sweat covered skin.  

“I guess I need to make you jealous more often.” She teases and you growl.  

“You better not.” You mumble and she hums.  

“I mean, if this is the outcome every time, I’ll have to flirt even harder.” She jests, yelping when you roll over on top of her.  

“Don’t even think about it.” You say, giving her neck a playful nip.  

Her hands make their way to your back, her fingers drawing small circles on the muscular expanse of your back.  

“I’m thinking about it.” She giggles and you growl, giving her a bit of a harder bite.  

“If you do, I’ll make sure you can’t walk next time.” You growl, pulling back to look in her blue orbs, the woman biting back a smile.  

“Is that a promise?” She asks and you snort.  

“Absolutely.”  

It’s only a few weeks later that you make do on that promise, having your way with the woman in such a way that she has a noticeable shift in her normal walk, something that makes you smirk. 

“I mean, I DID promise.” You say as you jog passed her at practice and she scoffs, swatting at you playfully.  

“Shut up.”  

[koltira]

[kaeya-senpai]

„A million clues, yet i still can’t find you“

[arget-star]

By Any Other Name

Sakura Haruka x F!Reader

A/N: Alright SO. I know I am primarily a Fire Emblem blog. however, Wind Breaker took over my life in the span of like a week and I could not get this thought out of my head and well. here we are. Not beta read, this is my first xreader fic i've ever posted. i hope you enjoy!

tags: fluff, a tiny bit of blood, feelings

wc: 2k

about: You met Sakura about six months ago, and have essentially wormed your way into his little walled off heart. He comes home to your now (mostly) shared little apartment, battered and bloody after saving a girl who looked like you

You’re not living together.

That’s what Sakura says, despite the fact you stay over four nights out of the week, and somewhere in the six months you’ve been dating, half your stuff has ended up in his ramshackle little apartment. “You deserve better than a leaky faucet”, he’d said, cheeks red and nose scrunched in a scowl. You’d merely laughed, kissing his forehead before replying, “It adds to the charm.” And that was that.

You’re not living together. So why does he hope you’ll be there, curled up on that cheap little couch you’d insisted on bringing over, that lovely smile on your face as you greet him?

Those assholes must’ve hit his head harder than he realized. Sakura grits his teeth, an arm banded around his throbbing torso as he wobbles along the sidewalk. Weaklings, all of them. Acting tough solely because they have nothing better to do with their time. Seriously, it’s just plain pathetic.

He spits out a glob of blood into the nearby bushes. He doesn’t remember biting his cheek; maybe he’d ground his teeth against it after taking a particularly nasty kick while dodging someone else’s punch. Wasn’t he past his body locking up, his muscles moving with all the speed of a turtle?

The girl had been clutching the long strap of her purse with all her meager might while surrounded by leering thugs. The type of guys who coast by on looks rather than action. Intimidation instead of respect. At least now he’s able to articulate—better yet, understand—what pisses him off so badly about guys like that. Sakura would’ve leapt in regardless, but then he caught sight of her underneath the lamplight, and her shade of hair matched yours. The purse even had a keychain dangling from it, the charms jingling in faint alarm.

She wasn’t you, obviously. You were already home, had probably cooked something simple yet delicious and were keeping it warm until he arrived.

So he froze, mismatched eyes wide as a new type of fear unfurled within his chest, and then all hell broke loose. He knew how to protect someone in a fight, finally, and while the poor girl flattened herself against the side of a nearby building as he sent the idiots flying, his attention still kept flicking to her. He kept thinking what he’d do if it was you, and on one such slip of his concentration, that bastard’s boot came out of nowhere.

He’ll have to report this to Umemiya in the morning, and tell you all about it tonight, and—

Sakura looks up. He’s nearly there; the derelict building doesn’t seem so foreboding, especially once he catches sight of the warm yellow light on in his apartment. Maybe, just maybe, things won’t be so bad after all.

The doorknob wiggles. You carefully place your bookmark inside your book,  sitting up properly in your seat. Sakura’s home a bit later than usual—he probably got stuck eating at Café Pothos with everyone else. Good. You’re grateful he has so many friends, even if he acts like a cat who fell into a puddle of water about it.

“Welco—Sakura!” Your book tumbles from your hands in your haste to stand up. He stands in the doorway while you catalogue his injuries as if in slow motion. Blood drips down the left side of his face from a cut above his eyebrow. His nose is bleeding, too, running down his chin and staining his white shirt red. His knuckles are raw. It’s subtle; yet he sways, quickly placing his right hand against the wall to brace himself. The motion is enough to jolt you from your surprise.

You’re at his side in a blink. His reaction is sluggish; lips parting in belated surprise when you loop his right arm around your shoulders. Normally, he reads your movements almost before you make them, bracing himself for whatever contact you’re about to subject him to so he’s never caught off guard. But slowly, like water eroding rock, he’d learned that he can let his guard down around you, even at his most vulnerable.

Especially then.

“‘M fine,” he mutters out of reflex. You only scoff, walking him over to the couch with a small huff of effort. “Just a small fight.”

Carefully, you help ease him down onto the cushions, releasing your hold only once he’s settled. “A small fight?” You echo, disbelief in your tone. There’s no reprimand or ridicule, just a healthy doubt. He doesn’t know exactly when he stopped looking for the irritation he’s so used to hearing. Leaning his head back, he sighs. “Some guys were causin’ trouble. A new gang, I think. Trying to rob a girl—” he cuts off abruptly, and you watch his cheeks turn a brilliant shade of red, nearly blending in with the dried blood caking his skin. Sakura immediately looks away; he misses the knowing glint entering your expression.

Spinning on your heel, you head for the kitchen. The faucet doesn’t leak as badly now, after you’d finagled a temporary fix with determination and a healthy amount of internet research. He deserves more than a crappy sink, even if he won’t admit it. “You were by yourself?” You ask, opening the drawer and removing a towel. (Yet another item that had miraculously wound up in his space one day. When Sakura confronted you, you’d shrugged, then asked what he wanted for dinner.)

Sakura watches you for a moment, ignoring how something deep within his chest settles as you run the towel under cool water. It’s a familiar scene, enough that he no longer feels the urge to yell and raise his fists in defense. “Yeah. Nothin’ I couldn’t handle on my own.”

Strange. Suo-chan and Nirei-chan always shadow Sakura. Unless Sakura is going home—they haven’t invaded his space since the day they’d discovered him sick on the floor. Now, especially, Sakura would rip their heads off if they came snooping around while you were home. The faucet shuts off. You wring out the towel once, twice, then pad back over to the couch.

“I never doubted that, Grade Captain,” you tease, arranging yourself so you’re sitting on your knees. Drops of water drip down your wrist and onto the cushions below. His blush deepens, and you don’t bother hiding your smile. “Now hold still.”

“Shaddup,” he mumbles without heat. Instinct makes him shift back an inch; he’s always taken care of himself, alone. Sick, bruised, bloodied—he proved time and again he didn’t need anyone else. Then you breezed into his life, upending his entire world with your musical laughter and patient touch.

This is far from the first time you’ve patched him up. He no longer hisses and rages and scowls, a teenage version of a toddler’s temper tantrum, yet neither can he completely disregard a lifetime of gut reactions to others extending a hand in his direction.

You never minded when his hackles rose. You understood him, remaining endlessly understanding while he let his fear run its course. The damp rag hovers in the space between you and him. Sakura zeros in on the blue material instead of your face.

“Ready?”

That’s another thing. You ask him about things. Wait for his brain to catch up with non-dangerous situations. It’s weird, and scary, and wonderful.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

“You always are.”

The smile you give him is radiant. Your free hand cups his less bloody cheek, keeping him steady, while you tenderly press the rag to his chin. He hisses out a breath through clenched teeth.

It’s quiet, as you slowly clean him up, beyond the soft scrap of material against skin. There’s a rhythm to your movements. Sakura finds it soothing, despite the circumstances. You both study each other; Sakura, like you’re a puzzle he’s still trying to solve, and you, like he’s something precious.

His golden eye truly is beautiful. He told you others have compared it to twilight, but you think it’s more akin to burnished gold. Rare, and infinitely treasured. He closes it, keeping it safe from harm as you run the now pink-tinged cloth over his browbone. A shame, you think, he keeps himself so locked away.

The slight pressure leaves his face. You move back, giving him room to breathe, holding the rag loosely in your hand. His eye opens again, a coin glinting in a riverbank.

“There,” you say, unfolding yourself from the couch, brushing your thumb across his cheek before you release him completely. “I’ll be back with the first aid supplies.”

Sakura just nods. He never says the words thank you; but you hear it in the way he lets you take care of him, how he takes your hands so reverently in his once your all finished, cradling you like he’s afraid you’ll snap in half if he squeezes too hard.

You’re opening the cabinet underneath the sink when he speaks again. “She looked like you.”

He says it so quietly, you nearly miss it. You freeze, half-bent down to reach for the ridiculous amounts of bandages and antiseptic bottles stashed neatly in their respective baskets. (Another thing you’d changed one day, much to Sakura’s initial chagrin, until he’d stumbled home covered in half a dozen cuts on the rare day you weren’t waiting for him, and found everything he needed without cursing his lack of organization.)

Mechanically, you grab the necessary materials. You’d assumed as much, based on his reaction when you told you the cause of his current state. A shudder runs down your spine as you imagine what the other guys must look like, lying defeated in the street. Sakura doesn’t fight just on behalf of someone else—at least, that what helps him sleep at night, though you know his tune has changed after all his experiences with Bofurin. For him to fight on your behalf, however tangentially related, makes your heart flutter.

Kotoha will practically jump for joy when you tell her.

For now, you let this newfound knowledge settle into your skin, your fluttering heart, smiling to yourself as you exit the bathroom, arms loaded with supplies. “Did she, now?”

Sakura’s sitting upright, head down, once again avoiding your gaze. His fingernails dig into the fabric of his school pants. Beneath the curtain of two-toned hair, you can see the blush sitting high on his cheeks. It’s a miracle they’re not permanently stained pink.

“Y-yeah. I knew she wasn’t you, but for a moment…I need to teach you how to defend yourself. I can’t patrol everywhere, and I’m not the strongest yet. Anyone from Furin will keep you safe, but if we’re not around—”

This is new. You swallow, setting the first aid supplies down on the tatami, sitting down with your legs crisscrossed. (One day, you’ll convince him to buy a table, but there’s only so much furniture you can squeeze in such a tiny place.)

“Sakura,” you say, but he doesn’t hear you.

“—I need to know you can take care of yourself until I get there—”

“Sakura.”

“—and send them all flyin’—”

“Haruka.”

That shocks him into silence. He inhales, then looks up sharply, lips curling into the angry snarl you know so well. It’s his only defense mechanism, beyond his fists, and he’d never raise those at you. (That thing lodged within his chest stirs again. No one’s called him by his given name in years. It feels right, that here, in this space you two have created together, you should use it.)

He’s quite the sight, half patched-up and spluttering mad. One eye darkens like a storm at sea; the other kindles into molten gold, ready to burn any who get in his way.

You’re surprised, too. But you didn’t know what else to do. He’s never spiraled like this before, and it hits you that for perhaps the first time, he was genuinely scared for someone else. You shake your head, breaking eye contact, and reach for the gauze. “I’m sorry, Sakura. I should have asked before using your first name.”

Your fingers shake only a little when you grab the nearest antiseptic, flipping open the cap with your thumb. He watches it all, struck dumb. He doesn’t want an apology. He wants you to say it again, but he doesn’t know how to ask.

All of the fight leaks out of him. His shoulders slump forward. Haruka. Haruka. You hadn’t said it in disgust, or fear, or hatred. If he had to guess, you sounded concerned. Haruka. “I liked hearin’ you say it,” he replies.

A laugh bubbles out of you, born from nervous relief. You nearly spill antiseptic all over you instead of the gauze. “Really? May I call you Haruka, then? Not all the time…just here.” Rising to your knees, you crawl over to him, taking one battered hand in your soft one.

His throat tightens. An odd pressure builds behind his eyes. “Fine.”

“This’ll sting,” you murmur in warning, almost like an afterthought. “You can use mine, too. If you want.”

Sakura’s about to respond, tell you he’ll do it if it’ll make you happy (and make his own heart beat a little faster), but then the gauze descends onto his split knuckles. It’s not like eating a kick to the face; it barely registers in comparison.

Maybe it’s the emotions he’s kept bottled up since the fight. Maybe it’s the fact you called him Haruka and the world didn’t explode. Both things, he assumes, and that’s why your healing touch hurts worse than a dozen roundhouse kicks.

It fades, after that first bright burst.

Neither of you say anything again while you continue your ministrations. Once his knuckles are taken care of, you move on to his face, tenderly smoothing his bi-colored bangs off his forehead to ensure no strands get caught underneath the small bandage you apply to the cut above his eyebrow.

The entire time, he replays this strange evening over and over again in his head. It all leads back to you, caring for him, using his first name like it’s nothing when it in fact means everything. He hates himself, a little bit, for not being better at this.

For your part, your focus on him turns clinical. You can deal with the emotional part of it later. When you’ve finished with the last bandage, you stare at him a moment. Take in this boy who pushed away the entire world when it wrote him off, the very same boy who harbors no malice in his heart, just kindness hidden by anger.

You press a soft kiss to his lips, then slide away before he can reciprocate. He splutters again, blush back in place, and it’s such a Sak—Haruka thing to do, you bite back a laugh.

“Are you ready to eat, Haruka? You get hungry after a good fight.”

He offers you a rare smile in return.

[lemongogo]

lost number 13 , elendira the crimsonnail

[theused801]

bert mccracken, 2003

[uncleardyn]

(alan wake-gravity falls crossover) 12 year old girl and her new best friend, the sopping wet sad dog of a writer she found face down on the front lawn

[chancheols]

Hyunjin in every music video: My Pace.