#I love her more than anything else in the world

[strnilolover]

✰ i love you, more than you’d ever know

warnings : mentions of blood. slight crying. slight angst. comfort. postpartum care. reader being weak to do things on her own. chris being an absolute sweetheart. newdad!chris. newmom!reader. nothing else? let me know if i missed anything.

you were so sore and tired.

hours of labor and contractions and pushing, left your body absolutely weak and your mind exhausted.

forty-eight hours has passed since you were in the delivery room—legs propped up as you held onto chris’ hand for dear life. squeezing it when the pain became too much, his lips kissing your head—soothing you.

forty-eight hours since you birthed your daughter into the world.

chris never left your side—during your whole pregnancy, during your labor—making sure you knew you could do it and that you weren’t alone. and even now, his body sat next to you as you laid in your hospital bed. thumb caressing your knuckles as he kept a keen eye on you, making sure you were okay.

“how are you feeling baby?” his voice was soft, cutting through the comfortable silence in the room. you hummed, eyes fluttering open to look at him. you shifted slightly—only to wince at the ache in your lower abdomen.

“sore…and kind of gross.” you admitted, looking away from him. he frowned, reaching a free hand up to turn your face back to him. “is there anything you need?” his tone was still soft, no rush behind his words.

you sat there for a moment, looking at him, before nodding your head. “yeah…i-i need to go to the bathroom. but i don’t even know if i can stand on my own.” you whispered, feeling a dull ache in your chest at your own helplessness.

chris smiled, standing from his chair before gripping your hand a little tighter—his free hand coming down to tug the covers slowly off of you before coming to rest on your lower back. “let me help you, love. you don’t have to do anything, i’ll take care of you, okay?” he murmured.

you smiled weakly, at his words, letting him help you. he was careful as he helped you sit up, making sure to steady you once both of your feet planted themselves on the tiled floor. your legs trembled beneath yourself, but chris made sure to hold you. “i’ve got you baby, i promise.” he cooed. slowly, he took a step back, encouraging you to follow with a small step forward.

soon enough, he lead you into the small hospital bathroom in your room. when you reached the toilet, you grabbed the railing provided—chris crouching on one knees as his hands softly slid up your sides. “may i?” he asked, his eyes seeking yours for permission, and you nodded. he smiled, slowly grabbing the postpartum underwear and tugging it down.

he reached a hand up for you to take, guiding you to sit down before letting go, letting his hands rest on your thighs. “i’ll give you a second okay?” he said, rubbing small circles into your knee.

but as he went to stand up, you could feel the uncomfortable rush of blood running out of you—sticky, damp and uncomfortable between your legs. you swallowed hard at the feeling, suddenly feeling embarrassed. you cleared your throat a little, hand reaching out to snag at chris’ sleeve before he could walk away. “chris?..”

he turned back, brows furrowing as he crouched right back down to your eye level. “what is it, love?” he asks quietly, his thumbs brushing over your skin once more. you felt your face heat—you didn’t know why you felt embarrassed, maybe it was the vulnerability of the moment—or how helpless you were. you weren’t sure. “there’s…a lot of blood.” you whispered.

and chris nodded, not even hesitating before standing up to reach for your bag that had been placed in the bathroom when you arrived. “i know, sweetheart. it’s okay, here-“ he murmured, digging through the bag as he pulled out a peri bottle and the pads you made at home.

standing up once more, he filled the bottle with warm water, grabbing a cloth in the process. when he turned his attention back to you, he was smiling. “-open your legs baby, think you can you do that for me?” he asked, gently tugging your legs apart, encouraging you as you nodded once more.

your stomach twisted with nerves, but chris’ face wasn’t turned up in disgust—no—it was filled with care, and love.

carefully, he positioned the bottle, squeezing the warm liquid to help clean away any of the blood. and once he felt as though it was enough, he reached for the warm rag, slowly wiping away at your sensitive area until you were clean.

he leaned down, pressing a few light kisses to your legs. “you’re so strong baby. carrying and bringing our little girl into this world—pushing through everything that was thrown at you.” he said, reaching over for one of your makeshift pads. you felt your chest tighten at his words, your eyes burning. “chris..” you whispered, on the verge of spilling over.

he smiled, hands grabbing each of your ankles to feed them through the leg holes, helping you into your clothes with careful movements. “you did so well, ma. and you still are.”

he was so, so caring…you didn’t deserve it. your heart pounded at his words, at his praises.

once chris was done, he gently helped you up, pulling the garments the rest of the way and flushing the toilet for you before guiding you back out of the bathroom and right back into your bed.

he tucked you in, making sure the blankets covered you just the right way and in all the right areas before he sat kind of behind you. his warm palms made contact with your back, his hands gently putting pressure. “can i give you a massage, sweetheart? wanna make sure you feel good.” and you nodded, bracing yourself for the slight discomfort with the aching muscles.

his hands began to kneed the flesh, digging into all the right areas—at just the right pressure. his lips brushed over your shoulders, tracing down the top of your spine as his hands continued to work into your flesh—his fingers moving in careful circles. “i love you so much baby. i don’t think ill ever be able to put into words, how proud i am of you and what you’ve done.” he whispered in between pecks.

“i love you too—ugh—that feels so good.” you groaned, slightly leaning your body back into him. he chuckled, hands smoothing over the knots in your muscles. “i’d do this all the time for you, knowing it makes you feel better.” he admitted, hands moving to your arms and any other area on your body he thought might be sore—which was everywhere.

you weren’t sure how much time had passed. but, by the time he was done, you felt like your body might just melt into a puddle on the mattress.

“okay,” he said, reaching a hand around to brush his knuckle over your cheek. “i think you’re ready for a shower. do you think you’re ready for one baby?” he asked, bringing his hands down and wrapping them around you, hugging your body to his chest.

you sighed, melting into his body. “yeah..i think i am. i feel gross still—all the sweat and stuff.” you muttered. “alrighty, up we go.” chris’ body is already moving like it had been all day, always one step ahead. holding his hands out for you like he did earlier, you grabbed them, moving your legs over the side of the bed and stood—his body carrying most of your weight to make this easier for you.

you tried to step too fast, accidentally wobbling forward on your feet making you gasp loudly. luckily, chris caught you, holding you in his arms before helping you up right again. “whoa, careful ma. don’t want you getting hurt, okay? take it slow.” he reassured, treading backwards as he tugged you forward slowly—just as he did earlier.

once you reached the bathroom, he sat you down on the closed lid of the toilet, quickly turning on the shower to a nice warm temperature before going into the main room, grabbing a nice pair of pajamas from your bag. along with those, he grabbed another homemade pad, laying it out with your clothes on the counter.

when he came back in front of you, he beamed down at you—eyes softening even more as he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world. “up baby.” he said, holding his hands out for you to take.

and you did, grabbing them and standing.

“is it okay if i take your clothes off, love?” he asked, and you nodded, letting out another content sigh. “yes..yes you can.” and with that, he slowly undid the string to your hospital gown, letting the fabric slide down your body before moving to help you out of your bottoms.

once you were discarded if your clothes, his soon followed. gently, he helped you step into the shower. the moment the water hit your skin, a deep sigh—more like a moan—left your lips. the steam wrapped around you like a warm blanket, making your body relax and your eyes flutter closed.

before you could think of anything else, chris stepped in under the water and pulled you into his chest—his arms wrapped around you tightly. for a moment, neither of you moved, like he knew what you needed. he just held you, resting his chin on top of your head, his hands splayed out over your back.

it was quite for a long while, just the sound of water hitting the tiled floor was heard, along with the chatter of nurses in your room watching the baby while you were both in the bathroom. the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it was—content. warm.

then finally, chris spoke once more.

“i’ve never been prouder of anyone in my life, you know?” he whispered, voice barely audible over the sound of the pattering water, but you could hear the emotion in his voice. “you’ve given me everything i could’ve ever wanted in life. your love, your time, your patience, our child.” his voice tightened, arms tightening just a little more.

“you’re so amazing…the love of my life. the mother of my child—my wife. i couldn’t have asked for any other stronger woman in my life.” you felt your throat tighten, your fingers curling around his forearms. “chris, i-“ your words cut off with a small choked sob.

his hands slid up to cup your face, thumbs brushing away the falling tears. “you don’t ever have to feel embarrassed, or weak, or anything less than incredible.” he kissed your forehead, hips lips lingering as his words brushed against your skin. “you’re doing so well, love. so, so well.”

and that’s when the tears started flowing. your face was hot as sobs wracked through your body. you didn’t deserve someone like him in your life, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. gently, through blurry eyes, you reached up—grabbing his face between your hands before bringing his lips to your own. the kiss was slow, filled with so much emotion you felt as though you could choke.

but you didn’t.

chris held you once more, cradling your own face in his hands as he reciprocated the kiss, tilting your head to the side to kiss you deeper. and when you pulled away, he let his lips travel, kissing away the tears slipping down your face as your eyes noticed his own clinging to his skin.

“i l-love you so much.” you choked out, looking up at him. he smiled, letting a few more tears slip down his face before he whispered. “i love you. more than you’d ever know.”

and with that, he gave you another peck on the head before he reached for your shampoo, popping open the cap as you wiped your face—sniffling a few times. carefully he poured the soap in his hands, then brought it to your hair, massaging it into your scalp gently. his fingers were slow, making sure not to snag on the wet strands.

he washed every inch of you, his touch never straying from being careful and loving. by the time he had turned off the water you felt lighter—cleaner, yes, but also safe.

chris stepped out first, grabbing your towel and wrapping it around you before he grabbed his own. he focused on you first, drying you off from head to toe before reaching for the pad on the counter and slipping your legs through it. he grabbed your pajamas next, slipping them onto your body and making sure you were all good before he dressed himself.

once you were both situated, he helped guide you back out into the room—the nurses who were there politely excusing themselves as chris brought you back to bed. helping you in and tucking your body under the covers once more before he climbed in next to you.

he pulled you into his arms, pressing yet another kiss to your hair. “sleep baby.” he murmured. “i’ll be here when you wake up.” and you did, your mind and body not bothering to fight the exhaustion. and with chris helping you all day, it put you more at ease.

as you drifted off to sleep you could hear your daughter cry, but your hazy mind felt the bed shift and chris’ voice carry through the room before you finally fell asleep.

“daddy’s got you sweetheart—my precious girl.”

a/n : thank you so much for 2k! i love you all so so so much! <3

[goldfades]

sweet on you Joe thanking his wife during his MVP speech when he wins pretty pretty pleaseeeee

omg yes! this idea has been floating around as soon as you sent this ask. hope you enjoy!!! sweet on you will be back i promise, just need the motivation to finish :) and yes in this universe he DID win mvp

MVP SPEECH FT. SWEET ON YOU

The stadium was deafening. Fans roared, confetti rained down in gold and white, and the cameras were all on him—Joe Burrow, the newly crowned MVP, standing under the bright lights, trying to keep himself together.

He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, exhaling a slow breath as he adjusted the microphone in front of him. The trophy was heavy in his other hand, but it wasn’t the weight of the metal that had his chest tight—it was everything leading up to this moment. The years of hard work, the sacrifices, the unwavering support from those who had been there since the beginning. And more than anyone else, it was her.

Joe cleared his throat, the noise dying down just a fraction as he leaned in. “Man,” he started, shaking his head with a small, breathless laugh. “This is—this is crazy. I don’t even know where to start.”

The crowd cheered again, cameras flashing, but his eyes weren’t searching for them. They were searching for her.

And then he found her.

Sitting in the front row, hands clasped over her mouth, eyes glassy and bright, looking at him like he had just hung the damn moon.

His wife.

His whole world.

Joe swallowed hard, gripping the mic a little tighter. “Obviously, there’s a long list of people I need to thank—my teammates, my coaches, my family. None of this happens without you guys. But, uh—” he huffed out a soft, nervous laugh, shaking his head before glancing at her again. “There’s one person in particular who—God, I don’t even know if I have the words.”

The crowd fell a little quieter, as if they could sense this was something important.

Joe smiled, softer now, and only for her.

“My wife,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “You’ve been with me through everything. Before all of this—before the trophies, before the headlines, before anyone knew my name. You believed in me when I was just some kid with a dream. You stood by me through every high, every low, every doubt I ever had about myself. And somehow, through it all, you loved me.”

She was already crying, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe him, even though she should have known by now just how much he meant every word.

Joe chuckled, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he glanced down at the trophy for a second, then back up at her. “I know I work a lot, and I know there have been nights where football took me away more than it should have. But not once—not once—have you ever made me feel like I was in this alone. And I need you to know—I need everyone to know—that I wouldn’t be standing up here if it weren’t for you.”

A collective aww rippled through the audience, but Joe didn’t even hear it. He was locked in, focused only on her, watching as she wiped at her cheeks, smiling like she wanted to scold him for making her cry in public.

“And Hayes,” he added, his voice hitching just slightly at the mention of their son. “Our boy. I hope one day, when he’s old enough to understand all of this, he knows just how lucky he is to have a mom like you.”

She let out a teary laugh, covering her mouth again, and Joe grinned.

“I love you,” he said simply, his heart in his throat. “More than football. More than anything.”

The crowd erupted in cheers again, but none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was the way she looked at him in that moment, like he was the greatest thing she had ever seen. Like she had always known he was capable of this, long before he ever did.

And when he stepped down from the stage a few moments later, trophy in one hand, the other reaching for her, she was already there—waiting, arms open, eyes shining, love pouring out of her like a flood.

She kissed him, right there in front of everyone, not caring about the cameras or the eyes on them.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured against his lips, laughing softly as she pulled back just enough to look at him.

Joe grinned, pressing his forehead against hers. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But I meant every word.”

And when he kissed her again, the whole world could have disappeared, and he wouldn’t have cared. Because this—she—was his greatest victory of all.

[andromeda-collective]

i have multiple and im going to mention all of them but im starting with THIS FUCKER HERE (blade from honkai star rail) AND I HAVE A VERY STUPID REASON FOR IT

there was an minigame thing with a character named march 7th (dont ask) and there were little events you could encounter throughout it and one of them was that you had to choose between a red and blue pill (or the third option of giving a nonanswer) and since my choice didnt matter at all i went with the red pill because i know that the matrix is a transfem allegory and i also hc march as transfem but then another character made a little comment that blade would ALSO pick the red pill which completely makes sense for his character but since i was still on the transfem allegory mindset i had the thought of "wait does this make blade transfem??" so shes transfem to me now 👍

estrogen would NOT save her. not even REMOTELY. he's a suicidal immortal who physically cannot die because of a ritual his old friend-with-romantic-implications tried who he now wants dead more than anything else. hes basically possessed by evil plants that revive him every time he dies and he goes fucking feral. hes a mass murderer with a bounty of over 8 billion. nothing can save him. but transitioning might make her miserable life slightly more manageable? plus i mean.. throwing your old name away and being a new person? obviously a metaphor for being trans /j

boothill! this is slightly for shipping reasons (turning a het ship wlw for funzies) but mostly projecting my gender-nonconforming transness onto the only southern disabled character i know of. are we different kinds of southern? yes. are we different kinds of disabled? also yes. do i care? absolutely not. (also because butch southern women make the world go round)

also sampo because the idea that this fuck is a cisgender ANYTHING is laughable. this is a nonbinary transfem boymoding for shits and giggles who randomly switches to the girl voice when talking to someone JUST to fuck with them because nobody else would believe them and the person would think theyre losing it. typical masked fool stuff. gaslight gatekeep girlboss.

and then from genshin impact: zhongli. who has CANONICALLY used shapeshifting to become a woman. and has likely done so on more than one occasion. this guy is CANONICALLY GENDERFLUID WHETHER PEOPLE LIKE IT OR NOT. and you can obviously be genderfluid and transfem at the same time so why the hell not :D

most other characters i hc as transfem i dont have much of a reason for, but im gonna list them anyways cause hell yeah

argenti (hsr) - she can have a little estrogen as a treat

dr. ratio (hsr) - no reason i just think it could work

sunday (hsr) - something something religious-trauma-and-giving-into-what-you-once-believed-to-be-sinful

diluc (genshin) - fanfiction on ao3 changed my brain chemistry

kazuha (genshin) - also no reason i just think it fits

sebastian solace (a game on roblox called pressure) - im gonna be honest with you op, i just like putting this fucker in situations. and i would love to see the struggle of medically transitioning when you've been forcibly had your body and dna altered to the point of no longer being human. even ignoring for a few seconds the thought that maybe hrt wouldnt have the same effect (or any effect at all) due to the experiments, how could you will yourself to alter yourself medically in any way after the horrific trauma you've experienced? its between fucking with your already fucked up body or having the dysphoria kill you from the inside out. i am rotating her in my mind even harder now.

p.ai.nter (from same game) on the other hand? a lot simpler. make the ai with guns a girl. also just a funny idea: you know that "put eyelashes on it to make it obvious that its a girl" thing? yeah. painter doing that.

^ TELL ME SHE WOULDNT.

i would apologize for the essay but you did say i was legally required to share so this is your fault /lh

anyways i hope you enjoyed the women

If you see this post you’re legally required to tell me at least one trans woman headcanons you have for a canonically male character, I never get to see transfem headcanons like that, give me them, and for equality of my own please know estrogen could have saved Insector Haga and Dinosaur Ryuzaki I will not elaborate, also Yuya.

[00valentina-writes00]

heyy love how abt vi x insecure reader where reader can’t come due to nerves and vi calms the reader down eventually and makes her cum so hard UGHHHH lots of angst too bby plssss

Angxx havxbajzb jahxbsn yes

♡♥︎Soft and Safe♥︎♡

Warnings: reader can’t cum, oral sex (reader receiving), Vi being comforting (I need her.)

Vi is patient. More patient than anyone gives her credit for.

People see her and expect fire—recklessness, heat, a fighter through and through. And she is all of those things. But she’s also something else. Something quieter. Something softer.

And thank God for that, because right now, you need that side of her.

You’re straddling her lap, your bare thighs framing her as she leans back against the headboard. Her hands rest on your waist, steady, grounding. She’s warm beneath you, her body solid, strong, unshaken.

You, however, are trembling.

Not because you don’t want this. You do. You ache for it. For her.

But your body won’t cooperate.

No matter how much you try to lose yourself in her touch, no matter how good she makes you feel, something inside you remains locked up tight, nerves tangled around your ribs like barbed wire. You can feel yourself getting closer—so close you can taste it—but then it vanishes, slipping through your fingers like smoke.

And now, frustration burns in your chest, acid-hot and awful.

Vi notices. Of course she does.

“Hey, hey, baby.” Her voice is soft, but the concern in it is unmistakable. “Breathe for me.”

You suck in a shaky breath, your nails digging into her shoulders as you try to will yourself into relaxing.

It doesn’t work.

“I—I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whisper, voice thick with unshed tears. “I just— I can’t—*”

Vi’s hands tighten on your waist, not hard, just there. Just enough to remind you that you’re not alone. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” she says firmly. “Not a damn thing.”

You shake your head, shame curling tight in your chest. “I just want to make you feel good—”

“You do make me feel good,” Vi interrupts, her voice unwavering. “Every time. Even now.”

You bite your lip, chest tightening. “But I can’t—”

“Shh.” Vi presses her forehead to yours, her breath warm against your lips. “You don’t have to force it. I don’t need you to prove anything, babe.”

A lump rises in your throat. “But you—”

“But nothing.” Her thumbs stroke slow, soothing circles over your hips. “This isn’t a race. We’re not keeping score.”

You exhale shakily, trying to let her words sink in.

She leans back slightly, studying you with those sharp, knowing eyes of hers. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, huh?”

You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. But Vi just waits, patient as ever, her hands never leaving your skin.

Finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, you admit, “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Vi scoffs. Actually scoffs. “Disappoint me? Baby, the only thing that disappoints me is hearing you say shit like that.”

You manage a weak laugh, but the ache in your chest doesn’t ease. “I just… I feel like I should be able to, you know? I feel like—like something’s wrong with me for not being able to.”

Vi’s expression softens, and she reaches up, cupping your face in both hands. “Nothing is wrong with you,” she murmurs. “Not now. Not ever. You’re safe with me, okay? We’ve got all the time in the world. You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart.”

Your throat tightens again, but this time, it’s not from frustration. It’s from the way she’s looking at you—like you’re everything. Like she’d hold you like this forever if you let her.

“Can I take care of you?” Vi asks, voice low, careful, like she’s handling something delicate.

You hesitate, but then you nod.

Vi’s lips brush against yours, barely a kiss, just a promise. Then she shifts, adjusting you gently until your back is against the pillows, her body sliding down the bed until she’s between your thighs.

“Just breathe, baby,” she murmurs, pressing slow kisses to your stomach, your hips, your inner thighs. “I’ve got you.”

And you believe her.

Her hands settle on your thighs, thumbs stroking slow, lazy circles against your skin. She doesn’t rush. Doesn’t push. Just waits, letting you feel every touch, every press of her lips.

By the time she finally kisses the inside of your knee, your muscles have loosened, your breathing deepening.

“That’s it,” Vi murmurs, nuzzling against the sensitive skin of your thigh. “There’s my good girl.”

Heat coils in your stomach, slow and steady this time instead of sharp and anxious. Vi feels it—feels the way your body reacts, the way your hips shift slightly, the way your breath hitches.

She groans softly. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Then, finally, finally, she leans in and drags her tongue through your folds, slow and deliberate.

Your breath punches out of you, your fingers tangling in her hair.

Vi moans, low and satisfied, and does it again.

This time, there’s no panic. No pressure. Just the warm, wet heat of her mouth, the slow, insistent strokes of her tongue. She doesn’t rush you, doesn’t chase after your pleasure like it’s something to conquer.

She coaxes it from you. Draws it out like a secret only she’s allowed to hear.

And fuck, it feels so good.

Your hips jerk against her, a whimper spilling from your lips. Vi groans into you, gripping your thighs tighter, holding you right where she wants you.

“That’s my girl,” she rasps, voice wrecked and desperate. “Come on, baby. Let me feel it.”

You moan, thighs tightening around her, and—

Oh.

Oh.

The pleasure slams into you like a wave, crashing hard and unrelenting, stealing your breath, your thoughts, your everything. You sob her name, arching, trembling, falling apart completely against her tongue.

Vi doesn’t stop. Not until you’re gasping, twitching, oversensitive.

She finally pulls back, pressing one last kiss against your inner thigh before crawling back up to you.

“There she is,” she murmurs, brushing damp hair from your face. “Knew you could do it, baby.”

You let out a shaky breath, still trembling as she pulls you into her arms.

[mizusbabygirl]

double double ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

player 380 (se-mi) x fem reader AND guard 011 (kang no-eul) x fem reader ────୨ৎ──── cw: no-eul and se-mi both have a g!p (girl penis), threesome, creampie, unprotected sex, blowjob, masturbation, sexting??, some fluff bc why not

i’m incredibly sorry for not posting a lot anymore. i’ve just been really busy lately but i’ll still take requests because yes, i need more ideas 🙏🙏.

you dip your fingers deep inside your vagina, your fingers trace around your wetness, the pink flesh inside your pussy. soft moans escape from your mouth as you struggle to reach over to grab your phone with your unoccupied hand to record yourself fingering and playing with your pussy and send it to the girl who you’ve been crushing on since high school.

this love interest of yours has also had feelings for you but you two have never dated since your former classmates didn’t like the idea of same-sex relationships.

but now that you’ve graduated and you finally feel confident enough to do whatever the fuck you wanted, you finally found the chance to have contact with that girl again.

se-mi was her name, wasn’t it?

you thought to yourself as you tapped on the record button on your phone and continued pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy. you made a few fake moans to make it seem more lewd than it already was. you found yourself spreading your folds with your fingers, playing around with your clit and teasing yourself until you eventually came.

what if she forgot about me and found someone else?

you thought again as you saved the video into your camera and tossed your phone aside as you made your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up.

she couldn’t possibly… she basically promised that she would give me the world back then.

you went back to your room and picked up your phone, starring at the “who’s this” message from her. you let out a big sigh and started typing away, explaining who you were, hoping she hasn’t forgotten about you.

“se-mi, you seriously don’t remember me?”

read

your head falls back against the couch’s backrest, feeling your phone drop out of your hands. your eyes become teary realizing that se-mi didn’t want anything to do with you anymore.

2 months later

it was the day before valentine’s day and you were in your room snacking on chocolate bars and scrolling through instagram, seeing all your friends post their partners. you felt happy for them but you were tired of being single and alone. suddenly, you see a notification and to your surprise, it was se-mi.

a smile grew on your face as you immediately opened her message.

“hey, let’s talk”

seeing that message made you giggle, you finally thought the universe granted your wish and that you were finally going to be happy.

just as you were typing, an incoming call popped up on your screen.

it was her.

as you were calling with her, your brain flooded with memories that you shared with her back in high school. you felt like you were finally at peace for once. you felt like you finally have gotten what you’ve wanted.

after the call, you both agreed to go on a date at a local restaurant the next day for valentine’s day.

“my pretty girl, i’m sorry i haven’t answered you for so long, nonetheless, i’m also sorry i never even tried getting in contact with you again after we graduated,” se-mi said as she held your hand tightly as the two of you walked out of the restaurant.

you stopped and watched her reach for something in her bag, she pulls out a letter along with a small gift box.

“it might not be much, but this sure is given to you by me with lots of love. happy valentine’s day,” se-mi said as she handed the gift and the letter.

you held the small box in your hands. curiously, you open the box carefully and find a small pink beaded bracelet. it was the bracelet she wanted to give you back in high school.

“se-mi, how did you manage to keep it for all these years? you really haven’t forgotten about me haven’t you?” you smiled.

“no. in fact, i’ve always dreamed about the day we could finally start dating and perhaps start a future together soon,” se-mi said and pressed a kiss on your forehead.

you starred into her deep dark brown eyes, her gaze looking soft and full of love that made you want to pull her into a kiss.

you missed the feeling of her soft lips meeting yours, her tongue entering your mouth, her taste, her soft whines. but here you are, experiencing that all over again.

you found yourself under her, her body pressed against yours, on top of you on your bed. both of you felt hungry for each other and the fabric of your clothes began to feel uncomfortable as if you were urging to take them off to feel her bare skin against yours.

“baby, before i take my clothes off,” she hesitated as she broke the hot make out session between the two of you, “i want to share a secret of mine to you”. se-mi rolls off the bed and unbuckles her belt. you tilt your head, you curiously wonder what type of secret she was hiding from you.

just as you began unbuttoning your shirt, she unzips her pants and pulls them down, revealing her grey boxers.

“you wearing boxers is your biggest secret?” you giggled but your smile eventually faded away as soon as you saw a bulge. your eyes widened as she pulled them down.

she has a dick..? it definitely looks real but it looks bigger than average…

you felt your pussy getting wet at the sight of her dick becoming hardened. so you immediately undress yourself, leaving yourself only wearing a pair of pink panties that will soon be torn apart by the hands of se-mi.

“se-mi…” you whined as her tip teased your clothed pussy. “you know.. it would’ve been funny if i told you about this back then so that way i could be pounding your pussy all day everyday in the school bathrooms,” se-mi giggled as she spread your thighs.

“oh baby..!” you moan out loudly as se-mi reaches over and rips open your panties, revealing your tight pussy covered in its own juices. you lick your lips at the feeling of her hard member about to enter your tight pussy.

se-mi rubs her tip around your slick, making you whine and feel frustrated since she kept edging you.

oh but how much she loves watching you whine and get all fuzzy when she teases you…

just before you could stick it in yourself, you feel her push her dick inside you, causing you to scream. “oh fuck.. never knew it was that fucking huge!” you let out a loud moan as she started thrusting inside of your baby maker slowly, but hard.

you could see the satisfaction se-mi had on her face and she looked fucking proud having her new girlfriend act like a slut for her dick. she watched you crave for it, savour it, watched your pussy devour it whole.

“you know,” she spoke up, her voice sounding quite raspy, “there was this girl that went to the same school as us and she also had a dick like me”. her thrusts accelerated but her main goal was to beat your cervix deep and hard, no matter the pace.

“her name?” you spoke in between moans. “kang.. hmm i don’t remember…” se-mi answered, her thrusts creating wet slapping sounds that mixed perfectly with her moans and yours.

“well for now.. it doesn’t matter, doll,” se-mi’s voice became gentle as she was about to cum. “oh fuck!” se-mi yelled out as she gave you a creampie, her hot cum filling up your womb.

you squirm around the bed feeling her hot load mixing around in your womb. “se-mi..” you moan, her body collapsing on top of yours. “her name was kang no-eul,” se-mi whispered into your ear.

2 months later, you and se-mi were constantly getting into arguments, meaning your relationship with her wasn’t working out how you wanted it to. but what she doesn’t know was that you recently started talking with no-eul.

yeah, you’re an asshole for that…

but are you really one? besides, se-mi wasn’t fulfilling any of your needs, not even the bare minimum. so what does she expect? does she expect you to still stay with her even though your relationship with her is in the ruins?

you don’t remember much about no-eul. all you remember from her is how she used to get in trouble at school a lot and how she constantly dated many girls at once. you never liked no-eul since you thought she was a jerk and an asshole. but you came to think about how she could probably have matured by now and how she could probably be better than se-mi.

the air felt warm, the flowers outside went from being small buds to beautiful colourful flowers with petals of all shapes and sizes. it was may and you recently have broken up with se-mi since you found no-eul now, and you realized how much better she is than se-mi.

you and no-eul weren’t dating yet but today the two of you decided to go to the mall as a small date. no-eul had a thing for constantly touching your thighs, hugging you, caressing you, even in public. you never minded it though, in fact, you loved it.

as the day was ending, no-eul had to go home but you didn’t have a lift so you went in her car. the ride home wasn’t awkward at all since the two of you were listening to songs on the radio that the both of you enjoyed.

“don’t you want to stay at my house for the night instead?” no-eul suggested as she parked outside of your home. you shaked her head, rejecting her offer since you weren’t comfortable enough yet. but as a way to build comfortability with her, you leaned in and gave her a peck on her cheek. “i’ll see you later, i promise,” you said as you gave her another kiss on her cheek and then you got off the vehicle.

that night, your feelings for her began to grow and so they did as the week went by.

“fucking brat,” no-eul grunted as she pushed your head against the bathroom stall the two of you were having sex in. your back was arched and you were bent over, taking her dick inside you. she pumped her dick in and out of your pussy and asshole.

she was so fucking advanced at this…

anyone who entered the bathroom could hear the moans and fast slapping sounds coming from the stall the two of you were in.

“fucking tempting me all day with you wearing a skirt and you only wore a pair of panties with a hole in them underneath, fucking pervert,” no-eul said as she put her finger inside your mouth as she kept thrusting inside your pussy. “don’t pull out,” you spoke up, your saliva coating her fingers as she put another one in. “you want me to breed you?” she asked using a sarcastic tone. you nodded. “you seriously want my cum dripping out of your pussy in front of everyone? have fucking morals,” she asked again, thrusting in slowly but hard, clearly giving signs that she was about to bust a nut inside of you.

“oh but how could i ever want to pull out? your gummy cervix feels so stretchy and warm,” she giggled as small spurts of her seed spurted inside of you. she gave her last thrust and pushed her dick inside of you, as deep as possible as her cum filled your cunt. it didn’t have much difference to se-mi’s cum. but you could tell se-mi’s was much more watery and no-eul’s was thick and sticky.

she pulled out, a string of her cum connected between her tip and your pussy. you turned around and adjusted your skirt and put your panties back on quick, not having enough time to wipe off her cum from your thighs and pussy.

“let’s go to my house at this point.. you’re going to feel uncomfortable all day if you walk around like this,” she said, giving you a kiss on your lips.

just as soon as you entered her home and she shut the door behind y’all, she unzipped her pants, bent you over, lifted your skirt, pulled down your panties and began fucking you relentlessly again. “take off your clothes please, oh fuck, i want to see your tits and everything,” no-eul said, her voice reeking with lust.

she threw you onto a nearby couch, you quickly took off your skirt and unhooked your bra, and took off the rest of your clothes.

she threw herself onto you, her tits pressing against yours, she gave you sloppy wet kisses on your lips. her nipples became hardened and turned into a bright pink color as she entered you again. this time, it slipped inside of you perfectly since her dick was covered in her own pre-cum and your pussy had her left over cum still dripping out of you. “you’re so hot, mommy,” you whimpered as she threw your leg over her shoulder and felt her jack hammering inside of you, beads of sweat coating her forehead. “mommy, eh?” she giggled, clearly feeling aroused by the pet name you gave her.

“come on baby, i want you on your hands and knees now, and don’t forget to arch that back,” she ordered as she randomly pulled out and saw you follow her order. instead, the upper part of your body laid on the couch making it better for you to arch your back as much as possible.

she slipped it in again, she gave your ass a sharp slap. her hands gripped onto your sides, thrusting in deep and fast.

“your ex.. se-mi.. wants to see you again,”

later that evening

you were laying next to no-eul, cuddling with her until you heard your phone ringing. you reach over to pick it up and took a look at the phone number that was calling.

it was se-mi.

“no-eul, you were right!”

“pick it up then, let’s see what she has to say,”

you answer the phone, and hear se-mi’s voice. you haven’t heard her voice since the day you broke up with her.

“i’m outside of no-eul’s but you can tell me to leave,”

“no, no, it’s fine—i’ll go unlock the door for you,”

“great, thanks,”

“before you hang up, why’re you wanting to see me again?”

“we’ll talk about it when you let me in,”

you hung up the call then turned to look at no-eul, who was listening to the entire conversation. “i’m not stopping you,” no-eul said. “but she’s my ex—aren’t you worried she might want to get back with me,” you added.

“and is that my problem? besides, you know who’s better,” she said then reached over to caress your cheek. you sighed, “fine”.

you opened the door and saw se-mi standing in the doorway. before you could at least say hi to her, she walked right past you and went directly towards no-eul.

could it be that no-eul asked se-mi to come over?

“slow down! fuck!” you yelled out as se-mi bounced you up and down onto no-eul’s dick.

here you are, having a fucking threesome with your ex and your current girlfriend.

“your pussy really loosened up after getting with no-eul, didn’t it?” se-mi giggled, her hands lifted your body up and down onto no-eul faster and faster until you couldn’t take it anymore. “too bad you can’t see how pretty she looks right now, bouncing up and down on you, no-eul,” she teased.

no-eul scoffed, rolled her eyes and said, “and too bad you couldn’t be a good girlfriend for her so she had to run to me.”

se-mi furrowed her eyebrows and stopped what she was doing. you got off of no-eul’s lap then watched se-mi push you onto the bed. you laid on your stomach and felt se-mi grip onto your hips and pulled you towards her. “se-mi.. i missed you,” you uttered. se-mi, with a smirk on her face, began to fuck your pussy from behind relentlessly. she didn’t care about starting off slow or gentle, she went fast and rough, her tip hitting the end of your cervix with each pound.

“no-eul, don’t you want to join?” you asked. no-eul got in front of you, pulling your hair, making your head lift up to look at her. “of course i do,” she said. “open your mouth, baby,” no-eul ordered as you opened your mouth slightly.

“good girl,”

no-eul slipped her dick inside of your mouth while se-mi continued pounding you from behind.

this would make a great porno, wouldn’t it? the title for it could be double double.

too bad no-eul was actually fucking other girls whilst the two of you were dating. she never matured.

se-mi was really the one for you. afterall, despite the ups and downs, she always stayed loyal and she knew your heart only belonged to her.

[thecuriousbeauty]

Under His Watch-Part 1 (Harry Styles x reader)

Series synopsis: Y/N, an ambitious FBI intern, joins the homicide department, where she catches the eye of the brooding head detective, Harry Styles. As they tackle high-stakes cases together, Y/N uncovers a side of Harry no one else sees. Are they just boss and intern, or something more?

Word count: 9.1k

A/N:- Hello everyone, so sorry for being gone for a while, but I'm back with something new that I hope you guys will love! This is going to be a short, two part series so like it up and reblog so I can get the second part out soon!

Warnings: Talks of murder, drug dealings, killings, crime scenes, violence, usage of gun. No smut in this part, but definitely in the next;)

____________________________________________

The sun is just beginning to rise, casting a soft, golden light through the open window. The air feels fresh, but with a touch of warmth that hints at the summer heat to come. Birds chirp in the distance, their songs a gentle reminder of the new day. A light breeze stirs the curtains, carrying the scent of flowers blooming outside.

In a small, cozy bedroom, y/n stands before her mirror. She fidgets with her clothes, unsure whether the outfit is too formal or too casual for her first day at work. She has seen agents usually wear suits, but she opted for a dark blue buttoned shirt and pants, because she was just starting as an intern. Her fingers tremble slightly as she adjusts her hair, a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling inside her. Her heart races, each beat echoing the uncertainty of what’s to come.

She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. The thought of the day ahead makes her stomach flutter—so many unknowns, so many new faces, and yet, the possibility of something great. She smiles at her reflection, trying to reassure herself. Beneath the jitters, there’s a spark—an energy that comes from stepping into something new, a sense of potential.

She checks the time and realizes she’s running a little late.The world outside is already awake, and so is she, ready to take on whatever her first day at work will bring.

Y/N doesn’t know when she decided to pursue a career as a detective. Maybe it was all the detective shows she used to watch with her father as a kid, or maybe it was the numerous novels she’d read. She loves the suspense, the mystery, and figuring out all the little clues. She loves the thrill of it. And now, as a result of her hard work and dedication, she has gotten into the FBI’s internship program.

The actual, Federal Bureau of Investigation. 

The FBI building looms like a fortress in the heart of the city, its imposing, angular structure made of dark granite and steel. The air is thick with history and authority, as if the walls themselves hold the secrets of countless investigations. As she takes her detective steps through the sliding glass doors, the buzz of activity inside is palpable. Agents in suits walk briskly through the sleek, modern lobby, while the hum of conversation fills the space with a sense of purpose.

The hallways are lined with framed photos of notable cases and agents, a constant reminder of the legacy the building holds. The lighting is stark, the floors polished to a mirror shine, and the walls adorned with maps and classified files that hint at the work being done behind closed doors. It’s both overwhelming and exhilarating—this is where the nation’s most pressing cases unfold.

“Oh, Miss y/l/n, right on time!”,  she hears before she sees none other than one of her superiors, part of the homicide department, Agent Eliza Carter. She had taken her interview. The woman held two coffees, and gave her the same kind smile she had given her that day.

“Good morning, Agent Carter!”

“Morning to you too. Sorry, I forgot to mention, you’ll be with homicide this month, probably another department for the next, and so on. Boss man’s just about to start the meeting, so come on quick!”

“Right. Do you know anything about the case?”

Her heels click behind her as she follows the agent, her eyes continuing to look around, absorbing everything around her. 

“Oh yeah, this is actually an old case. A really annoying one, you’ll see. Harry will brief us anyway.”

Harry. Detective Agent Harry Styles. 

Head of the homicide department, and one of the most renowned and respected figures in the field. His reputation precedes him: sharp, methodical, and almost legendary in his ability to solve cases that others can’t even begin to crack. She had heard stories about his brilliant mind, how he could piece together the smallest details that everyone else overlooked. The thought of getting to learn directly from him sends a rush of nervous energy through her veins.

“Can you get the door please?”, Eliza asks, and y/n quickly swings the glass door open for her, and then steps in herself, into the big room where there were around seven people gathered. All of them in matching suits, discussing amongst each other as they stared at the boards pinned with information about their cases. 

“Everyone, this is y/n y/l/n, our new intern, she’s gonna be with us for this month!”, Eliza introduces, handing one of the coffees to a man, who also gives y/n a smile. “Hello, I’m Ethan Grant.” 

The others also started introducing themselves, most of them friendly and smiling, two of them only giving her a nod, to which Eliza rolled her eyes. 

“Styles running late?”, Agent Cole Matthews asks as he looks at his watch. 

“I saw him getting a call, he had that face on.”, Nora says. She had short silver hair, and dark blue eyes, that looked like she would kill you if you pissed her off.

“Oh no, that can’t be good.”, Eliza shook her head.

“Face?”, y/n asks the girls who just smile at each other, Nora gives her a wink. “You’ll see.”

The door swings open with a quiet click, and Detective Harry Styles steps into the room, his presence immediately commanding attention. Tall and impeccably dressed in a dark suit that fits just right, he exudes a quiet authority. His broad shoulders and confident stride catch the eye, but it’s his sharp jawline and the faint stubble along his chin that hint at a more rugged edge beneath his polished exterior.

His eyes—piercing, yet thoughtful—scan the room as he steps forward, his gaze pausing just long enough to meet each of their eyes, an unspoken understanding passing through the group. The way he moves is purposeful, the air around him almost charged with intensity, as if every step he takes is measured, calculated.

Then his eyes meet hers, eyebrows raising up in question. “New intern, boss.”, Ethan says. 

She acts quickly to introduce herself, “I’m y/n, it’s such a pleasure to-”

“We’re still talking interns?”, he rudely cuts her off, and her lips seal shut at his tone. 

“Yes we’re doing rotations this year, Harry, they must have given you a form to sign.”, Eliza said, and Harry let out a sigh, not even batting a single eye in y/n’s direction, turning around to the projector. 

“Whatever. Let’s get to work, we have a busy day ahead of us.”

Y/N’s heart sinks. She’d imagined this moment so differently—she thought he’d at least say something encouraging, maybe give her a quick nod of acknowledgment. But instead, there’s only the cold, impersonal air of the office, and his complete disregard.

“We’re dealing with a 30-year-old man named Charles Russo. He's been on our radar before but slipped through the cracks. He’s involved in drug trafficking, but this isn’t just about drugs—it’s about control. He’s a key figure in a network that stretches across the city, and he’s responsible for at least three recent murders tied to his operations.”

A photograph of Russo appears on the projector screen—a mugshot from a previous arrest, his face hard and defiant, his eyes cold. Styles gestures to the image.

“This is our suspect. Russo has managed to stay under the radar for months, but he’s back in the game. We have intel from one of his associates that he’s been laying low, but now we’ve gotten wind of him resurfacing. We know he’s been making contact with his former contacts in the drug trade, and his movements have been tracked to the outskirts of the city.”

He pauses, letting the gravity of the situation sink in. The team leans forward, eyes narrowing as they take in every word.

“We can’t afford to let him slip away again,” Harry continues. “He’s ruthless. He’s the kind of man who doesn’t hesitate to kill anyone who gets in his way. The last time he disappeared, it took months for us to get any leads. We’re not going to make that mistake again.”

“So what’s the plan?”, Nora asks.

Harry points to a map on the wall. The area surrounding an old industrial district near the city’s border is highlighted in red.

“We’ve got a lead. A tip from an anonymous source says Russo is meeting with one of his suppliers here,” Harry explains, tapping the map. “We’ll be setting up surveillance teams around this location. We’re going to hit him where we know he feels comfortable. His old contacts will be there, and that’s our chance to bring him in.”

He looks at his team, making sure they understand the stakes. "This won't be easy. Russo knows how to cover his tracks, and he won't hesitate to go violent if he thinks he's cornered. I want everyone to stay sharp, no mistakes. We’ll have undercover agents in place, and our best tech team will be monitoring the area for any sign of movement.”

He glances at y/n, the intern who’s been quietly taking notes in the back. His voice softens just slightly, but still firm.

“You’re going to work with Carter and Grant to run background checks on Russo’s known associates. I want every detail—every business transaction, every phone call, every scrap of information you can dig up. It could be the key to finding him faster. Can you do that?”

“Yes sir.” She nods quickly, her mind racing. This is her chance to contribute, to prove herself, and she’s not about to let it slip away.

“Once we have enough intel, we move in. Fast, clean, and without hesitation. Our goal is to catch him off guard,” Harry finishes, his gaze sweeping over his team. “I expect everyone to be in sync. This guy has evaded us long enough. Let’s make sure it ends tonight.”

The room falls into a focused silence as everyone gets to work. The plan is set, and the wheels are already in motion. 

Eliza shows y/n her desk, and Ethan quickly shows her all the technology, y/n didn’t need much explaining, she was familiar with it all. She had even taken up courses in coding and hacking. 

Finally, it’s time to attack. Officers bustle around, adjusting their gear, making final checks on equipment, and running through last-minute details. The hum of radios, the clinking of handcuffs, and the soft rustling of jackets fill the air as the room feels like it’s on the verge of something big. y/n stands off to the side, a little on edge as she watches Harry gather the team for their final briefing. His green eyes scan the room with that characteristic sharpness, giving quick instructions to the officers heading to different positions. 

With a deep breath, she approaches Harry as he finishes talking to Detective Logan Pierce. Her pulse quickens, and she straightens her shoulders. This is it.

“Detective Styles,” she begins, trying to keep her voice steady, “I was wondering if—if I could come along. I know I’m new, but I’ve been following everything closely, and I’m ready. I can help in any way I can.”

Harry looks at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. There’s a brief silence before he responds, his voice calm but firm. “You’re not ready for this kind of field work. This operation is too high-risk, and it’s not something you should be thrown into on your first day. I need you back here, where you can handle communication, and make sure we stay on track. You’ll be a key part of this, just not in the way you expect.”

She feels a small pang of disappointment, but it’s quickly replaced by a sense of clarity. He’s right. She’s still learning the ropes. The reality of the danger in the field is something she can’t ignore. But at the same time, the disappointment doesn’t sting as much as she thought it would. She’s still going to play a crucial role.

“Understood,” she says, nodding as she pushes her feelings aside. She can feel a sense of purpose rising in her chest. “I’ll stay in touch with the agents, make sure everything runs smoothly. I’ll be ready to react if anything goes wrong.”

A flicker of approval crosses Harry’s face, though he doesn't show it fully. “Good luck!”, she can’t help but call out as Harry reaches for his own bullet proof suit and a hint of a smirk crosses his lips. 

It was so brief, that she wondered if she had really seen it, or if she had imagined it.

The night is thick with tension as the operation unfolds, the air heavy with the weight of what’s at stake. Outside the industrial district, the team is in position, each agent hidden in shadows, waiting for the signal to move. Inside the precinct, y/n is stationed at her desk, headphones on, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she tracks the operation. Her eyes are focused on the live feeds from the surveillance cameras set up around the district, her mind sharp and alert.

The plan is simple—surround Russo and catch him in the act. The agents are ready, but they need to stay in constant contact. That’s where she comes in. She’s the lifeline,watching the feeds, listening to their transmissions, and keeping them updated. She had earpieces connected to Harry and Cole, who had teams on both doors of the warehouse.

Through the earpiece, the voice of Agent Logan Pierce crackles to life. “y/l/n,we’re about to move in on Russo. He’s on the move—heading toward the south side of the warehouse. We need a visual confirmation. Is he coming into our range?”

Y/N’s heart pounds in her chest, but she keeps her voice steady. “Got him. He’s moving east toward the rear entrance. You’ve got about thirty seconds before he reaches the blind spot. You need to move fast.”

“Copy that,” Pierce responds. “We’re moving in now.”

y/n watches the screen, heart racing as she tracks Russo’s every step, eyes darting between the surveillance feeds and the map on her screen. Every second feels like an eternity. She checks her watch, counts the seconds in her head. Then, suddenly, he disappeared.

“Shit.”, she says, trying to figure out where the piece of shit is headed now.

“I hope I didn’t just hear you say shit while monitoring one of the most important cases, newbie.”, she hears Agent Styles, and her cheeks redden a little bit, but she focuses on the task.

“Sorry, you need to wait, Agent Pierce, I’ve lost him.”

“You’ve lost him? What do you mean? He’s right here-”

“-No, I think..I think he’s coming around from the other door. Agent Styles?”

He answers immediately while y/n works on a way to monitor Russo again, “Yes, are you sure it’s not a connectivity problem or-.”

“I think he’s on your side.”

“Oh yeah? That mother fucker. Guys, close in.”

“Wait, y/n, are you sure? Cause this might be the last chance we have to get him and one mistake-”, Cole begins, a little unsure.

The image on the monitor shifts—Russo steps into the frame. 

“Agent Styles, he’s about to break through—wait for it—now!”

The moment she speaks, Harry and the rest of the team spring into action. They converge on Russo in a synchronized move, cutting off his escape route before he can even react. There’s a flurry of movement, the sound of boots pounding on the ground, and then, within seconds, Russo is tackled to the ground, handcuffed and subdued.

A burst of static fills her earpiece, followed by Harry’s voice. “We got him. He’s down. Nice work, y/n. You nailed it.”

He called her by her name for the first time and the compliment made her heart race in a way she hadn’t expected. She blinks, her breath catching in her throat. Styles—the man she had been eager to impress—had just complimented her, and it felt like everything she’d hoped for.

“Thanks,” she replies, trying to keep her composure. “I just did what I could.”

“Well you’re the first newbie to actually not piss me off on their first day. You can go home, y/n, enough for the day. We’ll bring him in.”

Y/N exhales slowly, a rush of adrenaline flooding her veins. Her hands shake just a little as she removes her headset, a smile creeping up her face. They did it. They caught Russo, and she was the one who helped make it happen. For the first time since walking into this precinct, she feels like she truly belongs.

___________________________________________________

Over the next few days, she really fit in with the team members. She especially loved talking with the girls, Nora and Eliza. They’re laughing about the latest office drama—how Agent Matthews accidentally spilled coffee all over Harry’s favorite jacket this morning.

“I swear, it’s like he doesn’t even notice how clumsy he is,” Nora says, shaking her head with a grin. “But Styles—he’s always so cool, never says a word. You’d think he’d be fuming after that.”

y/n chuckles, feeling more at ease in their company. "I bet he was just silently judging him in that typical Styles way. You know the look I'm talking about, right?"

Eliza laughs, leaning in. “Oh, absolutely. The silent judgment is his trademark. But I’m surprised he didn’t rip Pierce a new one.”

y/n finds herself grinning at the camaraderie, feeling like she’s starting to fit into the team’s dynamic. It’s easy, the way they talk, tease, and laugh together. 

She decides to stay back a little longer that day, her eyes skim through the pages—cold cases from years ago, some unsolved, others with only the vaguest of leads. She’s been digging into them to understand the bigger picture of how the team operates, trying to learn from the cases they’ve solved, and the ones they’ve left behind.

Her focus is interrupted by the soft sound of footsteps approaching. She looks up to see Harry, his coat over his arm and his briefcase in hand. He stops a few steps away, his gaze lingering on the pile of files she’s working through.

Her gaze lingered on his arm, his sleeve rolled up enough for the ink on his forearm to peek through. She could see the dark outline of a tattoo—a design she’d never noticed before—curving around his wrist and disappearing beneath the cuff of his shirt. The way the ink curled around his skin made her wonder how many more he had hidden beneath his clothes.

She couldn’t help but admire the way his sleeves clung to his muscular arms, the sharp lines of his body defining his form. His green eyes were a striking contrast to his skin, deep and captivating. They always seemed to hold a quiet storm, a vulnerability masked behind his professional exterior. The way his curls fell around his forehead, slightly unruly, added a touch of ruggedness to his otherwise polished look.

There was something magnetic about his distinct features, something that caught her attention all the time.

“You’re still here?” he asks, voice quiet, as if genuinely surprised she hasn’t already left for the day. There’s something in his tone that feels different, not judgmental, but more... curious. Maybe even a little approving.

y/n clears her throat, trying not to seem too caught up in the files. “Yeah. Just trying to catch up on some of the old cases. Figured it’s a good way to learn how you all approach things.”

Harry studies her for a moment, his expression unreadable, before setting his briefcase down and taking a few steps closer. “You’ve got the right idea. We learn a lot from the cases we didn’t solve. The ones that slip through our fingers.”

She nods, feeling the weight of the truth in his words. “I’ve noticed that. Some of these cases... they’re so close to being solved, but there’s always one missing piece.” She pauses, flipping to a specific file that’s particularly puzzling. “What do you think about this one? A string of disappearances in a small town, no evidence left behind. It’s like they just vanished.”

Harry glances down at the file she’s holding, leaning over slightly, his voice low and contemplative. “Sometimes it’s not the evidence you’re looking for, but the pattern behind it. Whoever did this knew how to cover their tracks. But if you look at the people involved—especially the families, the connections between them—you might find something that doesn’t belong.”

“Thanks for that,” she says, her voice more sincere than usual. “I wasn’t sure if I was overthinking it.”

Harry gives a small, almost imperceptible smile, his usual stoic demeanor softening just a little. “You’re thinking in the right direction. Just keep pushing yourself. That’s how we get better at this job.”

She smiles in return, feeling a little more confident in her approach. Harry glances at his watch, then looks back at her. “Well, if you’re going to keep at it, you’ll need a little company. I was planning to head out, but it’s quieter here than usual.”

y/n looks up in surprise. “You’re staying?” she asks, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Not really,” he says, his tone dry, but there’s a flicker of something softer in his eyes. “Just thought I’d walk you out. It’s late. Wouldn’t want you to be walking to your car alone.”

Her surprise morphs into a small, grateful smile. “That’s... considerate of you. Thanks.”

He offers a slight nod, then gestures toward the door. “Come on, then. Let’s get out of here.”

The two of them walk out together, the quiet hum of the office behind them. Outside, the evening air is crisp, the sky darkening as they make their way across the parking lot.

As they approach their cars, y/n hesitates for a moment, then turns to him. “You’ve been doing this for a long time, huh? The whole... detective thing. How do you keep from getting burned out?”

Harry pauses, his hand resting on the door handle of his car. He looks at her, his expression momentarily distant, as if reflecting on the years of work behind him.

“It’s not about not getting burned out,” he says quietly, “It’s about finding what keeps you going. Whether it’s the people you work with or the cases that pull you in, you have to find something that reminds you why you do it.”

y/n nods, absorbing his words as they linger in the cool air between them.

With that, he starts his engine and pulls away, leaving y/n standing in the quiet parking lot for a moment. She watches his car disappear down the road, wondering what led him into pursuing this career.

___________________________________________

The next day, the guys are gathered around a table near the bullpen, eyes glued to a sports game playing on the office TV. The game is close, Ethan and Cole are already arguing over who’s going to win the match.

“Come on, you’re seriously betting on them?” Ethan snorts, shaking his head. “They’ve been playing like amateurs.”

y/n can’t help but overhear, the playful banter catching her attention. She’s not usually one for sports, but she’s been learning the ropes from her fellow agents. She knows enough to get by, and today, something about the challenge calls to her.

“Alright, alright, I’ll bite,” she says, walking over with a raised eyebrow. “How much are we betting here?”

Ethan looks up, surprised, then grins. “Didn’t think you’d be interested, y/n. You sure you know what you’re getting into?”

She smirks, her confidence growing. “I’m a quick learner. I’ll take your bet. I’m putting my money on the underdogs.”

Cole raises an eyebrow. “You’re brave, I’ll give you that. This’ll be fun.”

As the game continues, the guys teasingly rib her for her risky bet, but y/n holds her ground, getting increasingly into the match. When the underdogs actually pull off the win, she’s the first one to stand up, pumping her fist in victory.

“Told you,” she says, beaming with pride as the guys groan good-naturedly. “Pay up, gentlemen.”

“Yes, we’ll be there soon, got it.” They all look up at the sound of their boss, who comes into the room, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Murder scene in Oak Drive, let’s go.”, Harry tells them, and everyone gets onto their feet, getting ready to go.

y/n goes to her desk as usual, knowing she’ll be given the duty of doing the background checks.

“Who’re you riding with Styles?”, Logan asks him.

Harry straps on his gun, and looks at y/n. “Can you drive?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Come on, then, newbie, let’s go to your first murder scene.”

y/n almost squealed with joy, jumping up in excitement, but then toned it down as Harry raised his eyebrows, waiting for her answer.

“Yes sir, right away.”

The car ride is quiet, with a subtle tension between them, an unspoken understanding, a quiet connection that neither has acknowledged. y/n's fingers tighten around the steering wheel as they approach the crime scene. He can’t help but steal a glance at y/n—she’s focused, eyes sharp, her thoughts clearly already at the scene ahead.

“You aren’t gonna faint, are you?”, Harry asks, breaking the silence. “Cause one of the interns did, seeing all the blood.”

She laughed lightly. “Nope, I’m excited, and I’m good with blood.”

“Good.”, Harry lets a small smile escape, and she pulls over to the crime scene. The other agents have already reached and are doing their allotted work. 

"Alright, you’ll handle the photos for now. We’ll take care of the rest."

Y/N nods, grabbing her camera from the seat beside her, trying to steady her nerves. She’s been given more responsibility lately, and with Harry’s subtle support, she’s been slowly gaining confidence.

 "Got it. I'll make sure to get everything."

As she moves closer to the crime scene, Y/N kneels by the body, snapping photos of the surroundings. Her heart beats a little faster as she works, but the adrenaline feels good. And while the scene before her is dark, there’s something about Harry’s quiet faith in her that makes her feel capable. She captures the details—each angle, each small clue—as if she’s been doing this for years. She steals a glance back at Harry, catching him watching her from a distance. For a moment, she wonders if he sees something more than just a hard-working intern.

As the team works around her, Harry steps away briefly to speak with the others, but his eyes flick back to her every so often. Y/N can feel it—his attention on her, the weight of it—but for now, she’s focused on her task. Still, there’s a strange pull between them, unspoken, but undeniable, lingering in the air like the tension of the scene itself.

Harry wants to leave soon, to talk to someone and take y/n with him, this time, he drives. As they pull away from the crime scene, Harry’s eyes are focused on the road, but his mind is already on the next step. Y/N’s still processing everything they’ve seen.

“So, what’s your take on this case so far?"

Y/N pauses, glancing up at him. She can tell he’s genuinely interested in her opinion.

“I think the victim knew the killer. Too many personal details for it to be random, but the motive’s still unclear."

Harry nods thoughtfully. "I agree. That’s why I’m going to talk to the first suspect now. Stay sharp—this could get tricky."

Y/N feels a small thrill at his trust in her judgment. It’s not just about the case anymore; it’s the way he values her input. As they drive toward the suspect’s location, she wonders if he’s giving her more responsibility on purpose, or if it’s just part of the job. Either way, it feels like a step forward.

After questioning the suspect, Harry and Y/N head back to the office, the car cutting through the quiet streets. Y/N’s mind is still on the conversation with the suspect, but then..her stomach growls loudly.

Harry glances over at her, his eyes sharp but gentle.

"Did you eat anything this morning?"

Y/N flushes slightly, trying to keep her cool, but the guilt is written all over her face.

"Yeah, I—"

"You didn’t eat, did you?"

Y/N shifts uncomfortably.

"I’m fine, really."

Harry sighs, shaking his head with a small smile."We’re making a stop. You’re getting something to eat. I know a good taco place.”

He turns the car off the main road, pulling into a small taco place. The smell of sizzling meat and fresh tortillas drifts through the air as they step out, and Harry opens the door for her, his usual professionalism replaced with a kind of care.

As they sit at a small booth, Y/N digs into her food, finally letting herself relax. Harry watches her for a moment, the glint of something unreadable in his eyes. After a few bites, she glances up at him.

"So, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you always so grumpy? You’re like... a walking storm cloud sometimes."

Harry chokes on his drink a little, caught off guard by her boldness. He laughs—genuinely, with a surprised smile that softens his usually serious face.

He chuckles and wipes his mouth. "Grumpy? I’m not grumpy. I’m just... focused."

Y/N raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Focused, huh? Is that what you’re calling it?"

Harry shrugs, his smirk turning wry, clearly amused by her bluntness."Okay, maybe I’m a little grumpy. But someone’s gotta keep this place in line. You can’t just go around smiling all the time like everything’s sunshine and rainbows."

Y/N laughs, and for a second, their eyes meet. There’s an ease between them now, something playful, yet still with an undercurrent of something deeper. Harry’s usual walls are lower, and Y/N’s teasing is making him more human in her eyes.

"I don’t know, sometimes I think it wouldn’t hurt to see you smile a little more. Just... not at the crime scene, please."

Harry chuckles again, and it’s the kind of laugh that feels lighter than usual—almost as if he doesn’t mind sharing this side of himself with her.

"I’ll try. But no promises.", he says with a soft smirk.Y/N found herself grinning as she saw his dimples poke out. She hadn’t realized how much she loved seeing that little dimple until now, how it made him look so much more... approachable.

After a few more bites, she glances up at him. "Why did you want to be a detective, Agent Styles?"

The question lingers in the air. Harry’s fork pauses halfway to his mouth, and for a moment, there’s a heaviness between them. "Because I lost someone who mattered. My sister... she was murdered by some people when we were younger. I couldn’t sit by, not after that."

Y/N’s breath catches, and she sees the pain flicker in his eyes—his calm demeanor betraying a history of loss that runs deep. It’s the first time she’s seen him so vulnerable, so open.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t know.", she says quietly.

Harry shrugs, with a distant look in his eyes,"It’s alright. It’s been a long time... but it’s why I do this. It’s why I never give up on a case. To make sure no one else has to go through that."

There’s a pause, and Y/N feels the weight of his words sink in. She reaches out, placing her hand gently on his. The warmth of the moment takes them both by surprise. He appreciates the gesture, thumb ever so softly stroking a line on the back of her hand.

“You can call me Harry by the way, when we’re not at work.”, he says to lighten the air, and she smiles, drawing her hand back. “Okay.”

Little did she know that Harry had told her something that no one else knew about him. 

________________________________________________________

The precinct is buzzing with its usual morning chaos, the air thick with the noise of phones ringing, officers discussing cases, and the sound of feet shuffling across the floors. y/n is at her desk, flipping through some case files, trying to focus. She’s about to make another note, when she hears the unmistakable sound of Ethan and Eliza approaching her desk, their voices carrying through the room in a familiar, teasing tone.

“Well, well, y/n, looks like you’ve caught Styles’ attention,” Ethan says with a playful grin, sliding into the seat across from her. He leans back, crossing his arms, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

y/n looks up, feigning confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Eliza raises an eyebrow, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Oh, come on. We’ve all seen it. Harry doesn’t usually make time for anyone. But you—" she motions between the two of them, “—you got breakfast with him this morning. He doesn’t do that unless he’s got a soft spot.”

Eliza’s cheeks flush slightly. She opens her mouth to protest, but Ethan cuts her off.

“We’re just saying, Harry’s usually all business, right? But with you—” he gestures with a wink, “he’s practically a different guy. You must be special.”

y/n can’t help but laugh awkwardly, trying to brush it off. Yes, they had eaten breakfast together that morning, because both of them happened to arrive early to the office. “You guys are ridiculous. We just had breakfast. He saw me sitting alone and he was just being... well, Harry.”

But they aren’t buying it. Eliza smirks, leaning forward. “Right, Harry just casually opens up to you about his deepest, darkest secrets over a bagel. We’re all jealous, you know.”

y/n shakes her head, a little embarrassed, but also secretly amused. “Okay, okay, I get it. He’s not a softie, I swear.”

Ethan grins, clearly enjoying teasing her. “Sure, sure. But just wait until the next big case. When he pulls you aside to give you a ‘confidential’ briefing, we’ll be here, dying of curiosity.”

y/n sighs, trying not to laugh as she adjusts the papers in front of her. “I don’t think you have to worry about that. I’m still the intern, remember?”

Eliza raises her hands in mock surrender. “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what we’re talking about. We all saw the way Harry looked at you when he was complimenting you yesterday. Like... he actually noticed your contribution for once.”

At that, y/n’s face goes a little redder, but she can’t help the smile that creeps onto her face. “He just—well, he just doesn’t say much. When he does, it’s kind of a big deal.”

Ethan chuckles, leaning in closer. “Yeah, we’ve noticed. Harry doesn’t exactly dish out compliments like candy. And if he says you’re doing good work? That’s... noteworthy.”

y/n laughs nervously, feeling a little overwhelmed by their teasing, but she’s also secretly flattered. She’s always admired Harry—his skill, his mind, the way he commands respect from everyone around him—and to hear that they’ve noticed the shift in his behavior, even in the smallest ways, makes her feel like she’s on the right track.

“Alright, alright, enough. You’ve got me all figured out,” y/n says, trying to play it off cool. “But don’t go getting any ideas. He’s still Harry Styles.”

“Sure, sure,” Eliza says, winking. “But we’ll be keeping an eye on you two.”

As they walk away, leaving her to her work, y/n smiles to herself, a warm feeling spreading in her chest. She wasn’t sure if Harry really had a soft spot for her, but just knowing that she’d earned a little of his respect—enough for the team to notice—felt like a win. Maybe she wasn’t just the intern anymore. Maybe, just maybe, she was starting to become something more.

______________________________________________

y/n has been busy lately. She passed her detective training exam but the theory exam wasn’t over yet, so she was preparing for that, along with managing the work she had been assigned at the FBI. It’s nearly midnight when Harry walks into the office, his eyes scanning the darkened room before landing on Y/N. He spots her hunched over her desk, staring at the screen, her tired eyes squinting in the dim light. By now he knows she’s a hard worker, but what really hits him is how late it’s gotten—and how she hasn’t stopped working.

Harry’s voice is tight with concern, trying to mask his frustration."Y/N, what the hell are you still doing here?"

Y/N looks up, startled, her fingers still hovering over the keyboard as she blinks at him, trying to hide the exhaustion on her face.

 "Just finishing up some things... It’s not that late."

He sternly walks closer. "It’s midnight. You should be home, resting. This can wait until tomorrow."

Y/N opens her mouth to argue, but the look on his face stops her. She’s used to his seriousness, but there’s something more here—something that’s not just about the case.

His voice softens, but still firm."You’re not invincible, Y/N. You need to take care of yourself."

Y/N sighs, glancing back at the stack of files on her desk, torn between wanting to finish everything and knowing she’s pushing herself too hard.

 "I’m fine, Harry. Really. I just want to get this done."

Harry’s frustration slips through as he says, "No, you’re not fine. You’ve been at this for hours, and you’re running on empty. I’m not leaving until you get some rest."

Y/N meets his eyes, seeing the genuine concern there, but also the subtle edge of worry in his features. She opens her mouth to protest again, but Harry doesn’t give her the chance.

Harry grabs her bag from the desk. "Come on. You’re getting in the car, and I’m taking you home."

She hesitates for a moment, but Harry’s serious enough that she knows there’s no point in arguing.

She grabs her things and follows him out of the office. The rain is coming down hard now, the city streets glistening under the dim streetlights. Harry opens the door for her, holding out an umbrella as they step out into the downpour.

They don’t speak at first, the quiet of the night surrounding them, just the soft patter of rain as they walk to his car. Once inside, the silence between them feels comfortable, but Harry keeps glancing at her, concern still etched on his face.

Harry breaks the silence."You sure you’re okay? You’ve been pushing yourself too hard lately."

“I’m fine, my detective exam is soon, I just really wanna make it.”

“You will, you’ve already passed the physical. Trust me, you don’t have to worry about making it, the exam’s gonna be very easy for you.”

She lets out a soft exhale, those words making her feel a little better. After all, he had gone through all of this. “Are you gonna apply to work here?”

“Yes, I think this is where I wanna work. Not sure about the department though, I still have other rotations. I’m going to be with foreign affairs next week.”

Harry gasps in hurt, glancing over at her. “You don’t wanna be in homicide? Is it because I’m grumpy?”

She laughs, shaking her head. “It’s not you, Harry.. And I love homicide, the thrill is amazing! It’s just that I still have other departments to experience, you know, that’s what an internship is for.”

“Believe me, you aren’t gonna find any other department as interesting as this. But yes, you’re right. You have time to decide.”

The rest of the drive is mostly quiet, just the sound of the rain tapping on the windshield. When they finally reach her flat, Harry pulls up to the curb, parking the car in front of the building. He looks over at her, his voice quiet, with that same concern in it.

"You sure you’ll be okay getting inside? It’s late, and it’s still raining pretty bad."

Y/N nods, though she can’t hide the weariness in her eyes."Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks for the ride, Harry."

He doesn’t move, and for a moment, she thinks he’s going to say something more, but instead, he opens his door and steps out, walking around the car to open hers.

He holds the umbrella over her as they step out into the rain, his arm wrapping around her back and her arm as he keeps her close and they walk side by side toward her building. The air is cool, and the rain falls steadily, but there’s something about the closeness of the moment that makes it feel almost intimate.

When they reach her door, Harry stops, looking at her with that same quiet intensity. "You’re getting some sleep tonight. No excuses."

Y/N can’t help but smile at his persistence, the kind of care that’s always just under the surface of his gruff exterior."I promise. I’ll get some rest."

Harry doesn’t move immediately, his gaze lingering on her face. There’s an almost unspoken weight in the air now, a subtle shift between them. Without thinking, Y/N reaches out and touches his arm, her fingers brushing against his sleeve.

“Thanks for everything, Harry. Really."

His eyes flicker down to where her hand rests on his arm, and for a moment, the world seems to pause. Slowly, he lifts his free hand, tucking a wet strand of hair behind her ear. His touch lingers for a second longer than necessary, and Y/N feels her heart race at the intimacy of it.

His voice is low, and a bit hoarse."Anytime. You don’t have to thank me."

The tension between them lingers in the rain-soaked air. Harry steps back, holding the umbrella just a little closer to her to shield her from the downpour. Then he whispers softly, "Sleep well, Y/N."

He gives her a soft smile before turning to leave. Y/N watches him walk away, her heart still fluttering from the small but meaningful moments they’ve shared. The rain still falls, but in that quiet moment, everything feels a little different—like they’ve crossed a line, even if just for a moment.

As she walks into her apartment, she can’t help but replay his words and the feeling of his touch, knowing that whatever happens next, something between them has changed.

_____________________________________________

Y/N enters the quarters, the soft click of the door barely audible as she steps inside. The usual hum of chatter and playful teasing is absent, replaced by an air of tension that hangs thick in the room. Her eyes quickly scan the group of agents—none of them in their usual good-natured moods, all absorbed in their own thoughts. Something’s off.

Her gaze lands on Harry, talking quietly with someone behind his glass office door. He looks serious, his posture rigid, eyes narrowed as if he’s deep in conversation about something important. Y/N walks to Nora who’s sitting at her desk, the usual casual grin replaced by a solemn expression.

"Hey, what’s going on? Why’s everyone so serious today?"

The agent looks up. "We got a lead on the Rotherl case. Word is, he has a fourth hostage with him. Cole and Eliza managed to track down where he should be right now and we’re just waiting on Harry’s word to go.”

“A fourth hostage?”, she gasps. She wasn’t part of the team during the investigation of the Rothel murders but she had read up all about it. He was one of the most wanted men, who kidnapped his victims before killing them. He had already killed three innocent people, leaving no traces behind him. If they had a lead on him, that was amazing.

She glances toward Harry’s office, where he’s still deep in conversation, his jaw clenched. Before she can ask more, the door opens, and Harry steps out, his sharp gaze scanning the room. “Let’s go, everyone. I’ve called for backup. Matthews, Carter, good job. Now let’s wrap this up.”

“This mother fucker has had enough of a run.”, Eliza mutters, strapping on her bullet proof west and tossing the other to her partner. 

Y/N’s been with the team for weeks now, and in that time, Harry’s allowed her to tag along when things got tense, letting her learn the ropes. She can’t imagine being left behind on something so big, not now.

She grabs her things, ready to move with the team, but Harry catches her before she gets too far, his lean fingers wrapping around her wrist.

"Not this time, Y/N.", he says, his voice firm, with no room for negotiation.

Y/N freezes, her heart sinking at his words. She’s about to protest, but she catches the look in his eyes—a mix of concern and something else she can’t quite place. She takes a breath, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Come on, Harry. I’ve been with you through worse. You know I can handle it."

“It’s not about how much you can handle, y/n. This is a mad man, and you don’t even have a gun to defend yourself.”

“But I’m trained to fight, and I can use a gun if someone throws it to me-”

“-y/l/n.”, Harry cuts her off with his classic stern face. She hasn’t gotten her gun license yet, she’ll get that only after she becomes an agent after her exams, but she’s already done with all her training. He’s trying to protect her, she realizes. Still, she won’t back down so easily.

"You can’t keep me in the dark. I want to be there with you guys.”, she says firmly.

Harry stares at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers as if weighing the risk. Finally, he sighs, his shoulders slumping just slightly.

He reluctantly agrees. "Fine. You can come. But you stay in the car. Understood?"

Y/N’s heart skips, but she hides her smile, knowing she’s won this small battle. She nods, her voice determined.

 "Understood.”

Harry studies her for a moment longer, as if trying to gauge if she’s really going to stick to her word. When he finally nods, there’s something like relief in his eyes, mixed with the ever-present worry that seems to linger with him.

"Good. But if you step one foot out of that car, I swear I’ll drag your ass back inside myself.”

Y/N chuckles lightly, her eyes meeting his with a flicker of something unspoken. “Got it, sir.”

As Harry turns to lead the team out, Y/N follows behind, a mixture of excitement and nerves swirling inside her. This was more than just another case. It was a dangerous one, and she was in it, even if only on the sidelines. 

“Here, y/n, put this on.”, Ethan comes to her with a bullet proof vest just like everyone else’s. She didn’t think she’d need one sitting in the car, but she put it on, not wanting to start another argument with an agent.

They pile into the cars, the tension in the air thick as they head toward the high-risk location. Y/N’s fingers tap nervously on her lap as she watches Harry in the rearview mirror, his eyes already set on the mission ahead, and she can’t help but feel, even in the midst of everything, that tonight could change something between them.

The car rolled to a stop a few blocks from the dilapidated building. The air outside felt damp from the rain that had just stopped falling, but the tension was thick, and the city streets seemed unusually silent, despite the flashing lights of squad cars surrounding the area.

Y/N leaned forward in the passenger seat, her eyes glued to the building in front of them. The usual lighthearted banter between the team was gone.She could see Harry’s figure through the windshield as he stepped out of the car, his dark coat flaring behind him like a shadow as he walked toward the rest of the team.

She saw the subtle clench of his jaw, the way his body was braced for the weight of what they were about to face. His focus was sharper tonight, sharper than usual. He was already in the thick of it, mentally preparing for what could be a deadly confrontation.

Y/N’s fingers curled into the seat, but she stayed silent. Harry moved with precision, the rest of the team falling in behind him as they gathered around him. The air between them was charged, the kind of energy that only came when everything was on the line.

She heard Harry’s calm voice through his earpiece, “Position yourselves around the building. No one moves unless I give the word.”

Y/N nodded along with the rest of the team, even though Harry couldn’t see it. Her heart hammered in her chest as her gaze shifted from Harry to the building—dark and looming against the city skyline. She could barely make out the figure standing in the doorway.

It was Rothel. The man who had committed violent crimes. And now, he was holding someone else hostage.

Y/N exhaled slowly, gripping the seat tighter. The girl in the doorway, only a teenager by the looks of it, was standing frozen in place, her face pale with fear. Rothel had a gun to her forehead, and she heard him yell out something, but couldn’t make out what it was. Harry raised a hand to the rest of the team, signalling them to hold off.

She could hear Harry. “Rothel, listen to me. Let her go. We don’t need any more bloodshed. Just put the gun down.”

She couldn’t see Harry’s face from the car, but Y/N knew how carefully he must have been approaching the situation. His voice never cracked, but there was an undercurrent of urgency there—just enough to show he was trying to negotiate without pushing Rothel over the edge.

The earpiece crackled with static, and then Rothel’s voice, sharp and filled with fury, came through.

Rothel growled. “I don’t want to hear your deals. If you don’t back the fuck off, I’ll shoot her right here.”

Y/N’s hands went ice-cold. The air in the car felt thick, suffocating. She swallowed hard, wishing there was something she could do, some way she could help, but all she could do was watch—wait—and pray that Harry could talk him down.

Harry’s voice came again, steady and unwavering.

“You don’t want to do this, Rothel. Let her go. We can work something out. Just... put the gun down. It’s not too late.”

Y/N’s eyes were fixed on the building as the tension in the air grew heavier. There was a shift, a subtle movement at one of the upper windows. She squinted, her heart dropping as she realized the figure there wasn’t just an observer—he was armed, and his sights were set on Harry.

Her breath caught in her throat. Panic surged through her as she saw the man preparing to act. Without thinking twice, Y/N grabbed her earpiece, trying to warn the others, but there was no time for that. The danger was too immediate.

She threw open the car door, barely pausing before sprinting toward the building. Every step was fueled by a sense of urgency, her mind racing. She couldn’t let him hurt Harry.

Y/N reached the back of the building and found a staircase leading up. She didn’t hesitate as she ascended quickly, her heart thumping in her chest. At the top, she paused, ears straining for any sound—anything that would give away the shooter’s position.

There, at the far end of the hallway, the man stood, oblivious to Y/N’s approach. She didn’t think, she just moved. Silent and quick, she rushed toward him, tackling him off balance. They hit the ground, but the struggle wasn’t over.

“Move out of my way unless you want me to kill you, bitch.”, he growled.

“Oh you can try.”, she growled back.

The man pushed back, trying to regain his footing, but Y/N used every ounce of her strength to keep him down. He fought back, his hands grabbing at her, but she was faster—more determined.

In the chaos, she was struck hard, sending her crashing into the wall. The impact knocked the wind out of her, but she gritted her teeth and pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the growing pain. She couldn’t let him get to Harry. He needed to save that girl.

She heard gun shots from below and something that sounded like a cry of relief from the hostage, then she heard Harry’s voice through her fallen earpiece. “He’s down, great job team.” She made the mistake of letting her guard down for one second, in relief, and that’s when the man managed to rise to his feet and point the gun at her.

She heard Harry’s voice again, through her earpiece, now panicked. “Y/N, where are you? Answer me.”

Her vision swam from the dizziness, but she forced herself to focus. The man looked down and groaned in frustration. y/n laughed. “Guess your little plan didn’t work out, huh?”

“It was a good plan, now it’s all ruined because of you. Did you think I was joking when I said I’d kill you?”

“Y/N?”, she heard footsteps and Harry’s voice. 

“Harry!”, she called back, panic starting to rise in her chest. The gun was pointed at her, so she couldn’t risk moving. 

Harry points his own gun at the man. “Put it down right now, you sick bastard.”

y/n closed her eyes as she heard two shots fire at the same time. Then she heard a big thud. Suddenly, there was pain shooting through her body. The pain was overwhelming, but there was something else—disbelief, confusion, and the shock of what had just happened.

She had been shot.

She was brought back from her dazed state by Harry’s panicked, almost broken, voice, “Y/N, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay..don’t worry, o-okay?”

She could hear the crack in his voice, the fear that only came when someone was truly scared of losing someone they cared about. Her heart fluttered weakly in her chest at the realization. Her thoughts weren’t on the blood soaking her arm or the pain threatening to consume her. They were on Harry. He was here. He was with her. And as she fought to keep her eyes open, the last thing she heard was him calling her name, desperately holding onto her in the chaos of it all.

____________________________________________

Taglist: -@livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777,@madstyles3204, @youngpastafanmug, @fruity-harry, @wannaliveinparadise@hermionelove @mayalove014 @vikiii07

[madridfangirl]

But what if?

(Plot: Jude's girlfriend mentioned a threesome as her fantasy during a couple intimacy quiz. He goes mad, loses his shit, and she makes up to him, in more ways than one.)

1.5k words. Mature language.

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After a rambunctious session on the couch, Ananya laid in Jude’s arms. Exhausted. Like she’d fall apart if even a feather touched her right now.

Jude surveyed her spent form, with a half-satisfied and half-guilty look. Her body bore the signs of his emotional upheaval, more than usual this time. She was still panting a bit, still sweaty, despite him cleaning her as gently as he could.

Both were silent for different reasons. She was trying to regain coherence while he was partly lost in his head.

A few minutes later, she recovered enough to open her eyes and saw his faraway look. Her fingers traced his cheek softly, bringing him back.

‘Hey.’

She smiled lazily at him. Stretching her arms & legs tentatively & sighing at the soreness. His observant eyes watching every move.

‘Sorry.’

She snuggled closer, while continuing to smile knowingly.

‘Liar, you like making a mess of me.’

He did. A lot. It was a reminder of their passionate bouts. He liked her having to use make-up or dress smartly to hide his marks. Or walk funnily a bit. But just a bit. Not too much. Never too much. 

The sincerity & turmoil in his eyes tugged at her heart. She leaned in to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

‘Baby, I’m ok. More than ok actually. Really, don’t worry about it.’

He nodded. But didn’t kiss her back like he usually would have, something she noticed. Plus he was still avoiding her eyes.

She understood he was still not over the threesome comment. In hindsight, it was monumentally stupid of her to even mention it. Especially when it wasn’t so much a fantasy but a random idea she had thought of, just once or twice. For someone so measured with her thoughts & her words, who was supposed to be the smart one, she acted like a complete idiot here & made a royal mess of things. Jude would take it badly, it should have been clear as day to her!

But the damage was done, and she’d do whatever it takes to show him it didn’t mean anything.

Ananya held his cheek and turned him slowly to face her, gazing straight into the deep bottomless pool that were his eyes. 

‘I love you. So much. More than I can explain. You know that, right?’

He didn’t say anything, which turned her more desperate to get through to him.

‘Oh Jude. Have you ever felt anything else but absolute loyalty from me? You’re everything, honey. More than that. You’re so good to me. Just the best boyfriend, hands down. Pls don’t let one stupid mistake play on your mind.’

‘But you don’t make mistakes, not really. You say what’s in your heart, what you really, truly mean.’

And therein lied the problem. Jude always put her on a pedestal - to say the right thing, to do the right thing, to handle things the right way. To him, she was the personification of all things good, pure & real in the world. Something like this coming from her was more than a low-blow or a bodyblow. It nearly shattered him.

‘Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone. Some lesser than the others but no one is flawless. Today was my turn to fuck up. And man did I fuck up.’

‘You really did.’

‘I know. And I’m so so sorry.’

He didn’t acknowledge the apology, not because he wanted to tease her or get something in return (that would have been so much easier), but because he was still stuck on something. She could see that clearly.

‘Do you…think about this….when we….when we are…’

She cupped his face with both hands, mustering all her love in her voice.

‘Jude - I am barely coherent when we are together. When you touch me like that. Can’t think of my own address, how would I think of anyone or anything else?’

Now this assuaged him immediately. Because he knew this to be true. Once they were together in her room, indulging in each other, when Roma had walked in. Their door was unlocked, she heard her walk into the apartment but forgot her name and Jude had to prompt to understand what she was mumbling. So far gone was she with him so perfectly seated inside her. Later, she had begged Jude to never mention it to Roma, else her best friend here would get offended. Ananya had also added that if he does mention it, she’d flat out deny & call him a liar. Her word against his.

The hint of smile on his face was all the wiggle room she needed.

Ananya leaned closer, relishing his breath on her face, and covered his lips with hers. A soft, slow, lingering kiss, which he grew into, finally relaxing into her mouth.

‘My prince.’

When they parted, she rubbed her cheek against his, just the way he liked. Jude relaxed further.

‘It’s just that….the image…of that….can’t get it out of my head.’

She saw that coming.

‘I can help with that.’

‘How?’

‘How about a different image?’

He looked at her, confused, mouth partly open. So cute & adorable like that. She traced his plump lips with her fingers lovingly, slowly, then tapped on them.

‘What if instead of another guy, there’s another girl…’

Jude’s mouth fell open in real time. She could barely suppress her smile at how well she had predicted this. 

‘…another girl, touching me like that, our bodies squished together, naked…..’

It was his turn to pant & sweat now, with that deliciously open mouth. His hot breath fanning her face.

‘…but you can’t touch either of us…’

Jude felt like someone was murdering him & reviving him simultaneously. He was speechless, not even a half-sound out of him, just staring at her gobsmacked.

‘…you can watch though. As we, you know, do stuff. How’s that for an image?’

He was still silent. That sinful tongue of his had made an appearance between his lips, as he tried to process that, mouth still hung open.

She felt particularly playful, strangely powerful in that moment. Ananya leaned in and slowly touched his tongue with hers, then tugged on it lightly with her teeth, quickly breaking away.

That brought him back to reality.

He looked in awe at his girlfriend, who was slowly batting her eyes at him, cheeks flushed, a picture of innocence and demureness. If he hadn’t heard this himself, he would never believe she was capable of saying such things. Or thinking such things.

But the sly smile was giving her away. Fully aware of what she was doing to him.

‘Not such a good girl anymore, are you?’

Oh she was. 100%. Compared to him & everything he had done, she was a saint. But the playfulness from earlier was still brimming in her.

‘Never said I was. You just thought of me as one.’

‘You little vixen.’

Jude looked her up & down. And debated in his head how feasible it would be to show her right now who was in charge. She may have cracked a few levels of this game but Jude was the absolute undisputed king of this dynamic, something he would never let her forget. Something that she needed to be reminded of. Against a wall maybe. 

But unfortunately, she was in no state for such a teaching right now. Jude wasn’t going to miss the chance to make his point though.

He locked his eyes with her, then inserted two of his fingers into her mouth. She was surprised, but slowly got used to the intrusion, and swirled her tongue around them, making him groan gutturally, like a wounded animal.

He grabbed her face, fingers digging into her soft skin. But his voice was calm, even. 

‘Sweet girl, I’m gonna ruin you. I’ll take everything from you. Everything that a man can take from a woman. And you’re gonna want to give it to me. Heck you’re gonna beg. I’ll make you.’

She suddenly felt hot & bothered, like her skin was on fire, making her whimper as his grip tightened further.

‘No man will ever see you like that. Touch you like that. I won’t let them. No one but me. NO ONE. Is that clear?’

‘Yes.’

‘See - I know how to turn you into a good girl. Just like that.’

She wanted to push him away for that patronising tone but somehow it just made her feel even more hot.

‘You can play all you want. Till I let you. Coz when I take my turn, doll, you have no idea the things we’ll do. The things I’ll do to you. This sweet little mind of yours can’t even imagine what all I have planned for us.’

With that, he picked her up slowly, minding her cramps & soreness, and carried her to his bedroom. She clung to him, hiding in his neck to cover her fluster, while all the previous irritation in him was replaced with the thrill of this game he had just discovered her to be capable of.

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Continuation of Couple Intimacy Quiz and Intimacy Quiz gone Awry. Can be read separately as well.

As always, let me know what you thought of it :)

[eternalbuckley]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ lady!reader (regency au)

Dearest gentle reader, this author is more than delighted to introduce you to Lady Y/N. A lady that was born into London’s high society as the oldest child of a Duke and Duchess. The world of London‘s high society is filled with romance, friendship, scandals, rumours and secrets that want to remain hidden. But be forewarned, dear reader, this author has her eyes everywhere and nothing shall go unnoticed. As we embark into a new social season, I find myself pondering some most intriguing questions: Will Lady Y/N succeed in securing a match in this season? And will her reputation remain unsullied or will she find herself embroiled in scandal? I shall assure you, if any noteworthy event comes into my notice, I shall be the first to bring it to your attention. May this season promise us to be a truly unforgettable experience. Yours truly, Lady Whistledown.

lady!reader is witty, sarcastic, confident and may appear innocent but she might surprise you. she doesn’t let others treat her with disrespect and holds them accountable when necessary. she isn‘t as innocent as some might think.

lady!reader who seems like an open book but has sides to her that only her closest people know about. some are just reserved for a possible partner — sides only they can unveil.

lady!reader is someone who loves to read with her friends, take walks or spend time in nature. she loves to have fun and doesn’t care what other’s truly think about her, even if it‘s not appreciated by society to behave such ways. but be aware, there is so much more ready to be revealed.

lady!reader who has caught the attention of many people �� possible partners are among them. the gender doesn’t truly matter to her. she is aware of the risks that come with her interests but she doesn’t care.

lady!reader who wants to fall in love with someone who truly wants and loves her regardless of her status. she wants something real and wouldn’t mind not to marry at all if she won‘t find what she wants.

navigation. | harry potter masterlist. | lady!reader

© eternalbuckley 2025. // I do not give you permission to modify, copy, translate or repost any of my works and creations on other platforms. I do not give you the permission to claim them as your own. I do not give you permission to use anything of my work and creations for any ai related things. I only post my works on tumblr, if you find my work anywhere else please let me know!

a/n: this au is completely inspired by bridgerton, especially lady whistledown — i'm using her solely for the purpose of the gossip society papers (like it's in the show and books). that's it!

[rhiannonsknife]

I’ve never seen someone write Jackie and Rhiannon like you do! They’re such complex characters and you do an amazing job capturing that, even in just a one shot. Just wanted to tell you that I love your blog!

If you’re still taking requests, would you mind writing a Jackie one where her and the reader come out as a couple at Doomcoming like Tai and Van did? Maybe they’ve been together for awhile but Jackie wasn’t ready to come out until then? I think a plane crash would really put things into perspective lol!

-🦈

── MEET ME IN THE WOODS TONIGHT

— summary: doomcoming with jackie taylor.

— warnings: fluff. implied internalized homophobia. secret relationship. fem!reader. nsfw content. mdni.

the makeshift decorations sway in the breeze, the clearing glows with warm lantern light and, despite everything, despite the crash, the wilderness, and the gnawing hunger, there’s laughter.

for the first time in weeks, the mood is light, almost joyful in a way that’s more genuine than anything any of you have experienced since the plane went down.

you stand near jackie, your shoulder brushing hers just so as you watch the others dance. she looks beautiful tonight, as she always does: her crown of wildflowers slightly askew, her cheeks flushed from the drinks misty’s been passing around. she’s smiling, but you know her too well to think she’s as carefree as she looks: jackie has always been good at pretending.

you’ve been together for months now, sneaking touches and stealing kisses when no one is looking your way. she had made one thing clear from the start: no one could know. she’d framed it as self-preservation. “it’s not that i don’t care about you,” jackie had said one night, her voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire. “i just…i don’t want to make things harder for us out here”

so, you learned to love the mask she wears just as much as the girl jackie is beneath all her pretense.

you’d understood, or tried to; her fears weren’t all baseless. she was used to control, to the certainty of her old world where she’d been whs’ golden girl, the one everyone admired. out here, though, her carefully constructed image had been crumbling from the start. the others had turned on her in subtle ways; side glances, muttered comments, the slow loss of respect. she couldn’t risk giving them more fuel.

now, as you’re watching taissa and van kiss in front of everyone, something seems to shift.

it’s not a grand declaration; they just kiss, laughing against each other’s lips like they’re the only two people in the world. the group doesn’t stop them. some cheer, but no one judges. it’s all…normal. contrary to the events of the past weeks, but normal.

you glance sideways at jackie, expecting her to look away or maybe make a comment to cover her discomfort. but she’s watching them, just as everyone else is, her eyes wide, her expression both soft and unreadable. there’s no jealousy there, either, no scorn. just a quiet longing that makes your chest ache.

“jackie?” you ask gently, leaning closer so only she can hear.

she blinks, pulling herself back to reality, and gives you a shaky smile. “it’s nothing,” she assures quickly.

“are you sure?” you press, keeping your voice soft. “you can talk to me, you know?”

jackie’s smile falters. for a split second, she looks like she might say something. but then she shakes her head, looking away. “come on! let’s dance!”

you follow her to the makeshift dance floor, letting her spin you around with surprising enthusiasm. the two of you laugh, swaying surrounded by the other girls. for this short while, it’s easy to forget everything that comes with the looming uncertainty these days. but then jackie slows, her movements faltering as her gaze locks on yours.

“what?” you ask, unable to brush it off this time.

she hesitates, her hand tightening around yours. “i just…” she glances over her shoulder, her eyes scanning the crowd. no one’s looking at you, their attention scattered all across the clearing. jackie takes a shaky breath. “i don’t want to hide anymore,”

“jackie, you don’t have to-“

she cuts you off by cupping your face and pressing her lips to yours, as easy as it would only ever come to her behind closed doors and the comfort of knowing you’re unseen. the kiss starts tentative, like the very first time jackie had kissed you, with her hands trembling against your cheeks. when you don’t pull away, when you lean into her, your own hands finding her waist, she deepens it. it’s soft and warm and open, jackie’s lips moving with a kind of desperation that you feel all the way to your core.

the entire world around you fades, you don’t hear the murmured conversations and laughter that surround you. all you can feel is jackie, her hands moving to your shoulders, her thumbs brushing your jawline. when she finally pulls back, her cheeks are tinted in the softest shade of pink.

“jackie,” you whisper, breathless, your forehead resting against hers still, hesitant to withdraw.

“i mean it,” she murmurs, the side of her nose nudging yours. “i don’t want to hide anymore. not with you!”

her gaze flickers shyly to the other yellowjackets around you.

there’s a moment of quiet as the others catch on, realizing what they’ve just seen. it’s van’s loud whoop that breaks the silence. when jackie looks back at you, there’s something new in her eyes. relief, maybe, or pride.

you smile at her, your fingers squeezing her waist through the fabric of her dress. “i guess the plane crash really did put things into perspective, huh?”

jackie laughs softly. “yeah. something like that.”

she doesn’t step back. if anything, she moves closer, her hands sliding down to rest on your hips as you rest your chin atop her head and pull her into your embrace.

“come with me,” she murmurs eventually.

your heart skips. “where?”

jackie’s smile turns coy. she doesn’t answer, instead she takes your hand and leads you away from the group. the warmth of the fire gives way to the cool darkness of the woods, and then, once you reach it, the cabin door creaks behind you.

inside, the room is dim, for once completely empty with the team still celebrating outside. jackie turns to face you, her eyes catching yours in the low light. she doesn’t say anything, but the way she steps closer, her free hand reaching for the back of your neck, speaks volumes.

when her mouth finds yours this time, it’s slower, deeper, her movements no longer tentative. it’s not just about showing something to the others now. it’s about you, and her, and everything that had been unspoken until now.

jackie steps closer then, backing you up until you hit the wall. her hands move to your neck, fingers sliding into your hair. the full length of her body presses against yours, caging you in as the kiss deepens.

for months, she had to hide her desire for you. now that it’s all out in the open, it’s like a dam has broken. jackie kisses you desperately, all the pent-up longing of the last poured into the collision of your mouths.

you can’t help but gasp, struggling to keep up with the demanding motion of jackie‘s lips. they trail from your mouth, down the side of your neck, nipping and kissing hungrily as her hands tug impatiently on the fabric of your clothes.

“jackie” you pant with your head tossed back against the wall. “we- we’re still-”

she pins you harder to the door, one of her legs slipping between yours. for a moment you allow yourself to get lost in the friction against your center, your hips rutting back and forth instinctively.

then, finally, you repeat, “jackie!”, breathless when she breaks away from you. her hazel eyes are dark, her chest heaving with the force of breath.

“did i do something wrong?” she asks, her voice quieter now, a hint of insecurity threading through the haze that’s come over you both. “i’m sorry, we don’t have to-“

you cut her off before jackie can overthink it.

your hand finds hers, squeezing just enough to ground her. the others could come in at any second, loud and stumbling, forcing you back to your new ‘normality’. you don’t want to forget this, don’t want to let the moment pass.

“attic. now”

you’re on top of her. chest to chest with a bare body that arches up against yours to meet you halfway.

jackie’s arms are draped over your neck, her ankles locked around your waist, pulling you in close. impossibly close, because you don’t think it’s possible to be any nearer unless you merged into her completely, lost yourself in the press of her skin, the curves of her body against yours. maybe that’s exactly what she wants. maybe that’s what you both need.

to forget where one ends and the other begins.

your clothes are scattered all around the makeshift bed you’re sharing. her dress, neat and beautiful, crumpled up on the dusty attic floor alongside your own.

it’s the most intimate you’ve ever been together: in all the months you’ve spent dating in secrecy, you never got jackie like this. you’ve imagined it, sure, pictured her at the absolute crack of dawn after making sure the other girls were definitely asleep, with a hand shoved down your pants. but even your poor attempts at masturbation in this absolute hellscape could never compare to having her underneath you.

you know, from the occasional stories she’d tell you -secrets, exchanged in hushed whispers- that jeff hasn’t either. that she was never quite ready to go all the way with him, never felt comfortable enough to.

with you, that has changed. jackie seems very comfortable now. she’s reassured you at every shy check-in between layers of clothing slipping away: “are you sure?” you’d asked when your fingers pushed up the hem of her dress. “is this still okay?” as you struggled with the clasps of her bra.

now, with the restrictive clothes gone, her lips are everywhere; against your own, the side of your neck, wandering as low as they’ll go in your current position, never getting past the swell of your breasts. jackie pulls you in absentmindedly and traces soft lines up your naked spine as her lips move down your throat. one of her hands finds yours, threading your fingers together.

this is different from all the stolen moments and careful touches you’ve shared so far. there’s no fear of being heard, no risk of being interrupted. jackie is different, every soft sound raw in a way she’s never been capable of before.

her hands roam with purpose, memorizing every single inch of your skin. her mouth traces a path from your collarbones to your shoulder as she whispers “i need you” with both her eyes closed. you can’t stop your hips from grinding into her all over again, bare skin sliding together.

you break away, blinking down at where jackie is sprawled out. “are you sure?” you manage. she bites her lip, but nods determinedly.

for months, she’s been so focused on what she should need -the validation, the approval, the status- that she’s almost forgotten how the simple act of being wanted feels like.

“okay...okay”

jackie strokes over your bare shoulders, her thumbs digging into the skin there. “can i-“ she begins, blushing under your attentive gaze. “can i touch you?”

when you nod, she brings both of her hands up to your chest. you exhale shakily. this is all so new, so sweet, even in the mess that you’re in. it’s a blur of shy touches and breathy murmurs of approval, and, for the first time in what feels like forever, you’re happy. truly, undeniably happy. happy that it’s jackie. happy that she’s the one you get to share this with.

her thumb brushes over your nipple and you arch your back forward, a quiet moan drawn from your lips. the floorboard creaks under the weight shift and you laugh into each other’s mouths.

“you like that?”

your eyes flutter shut and you manage another nod. as if to test it, jackie repeats the motion, applying just the right amount of pressure.

“oh-“ you gasp, your full body shuddering.

jackie smiles, satisfied. she leans up again, her hips jerking against your leg as she moves to press kisses to the hollow of your throat while simultaneously playing with your nipples. only when she lets out a soft noise of her own, do you realize that your thigh is pressing right between hers with the way your bodies have moved together.

momentarily caught off guard, you breathe out and jackie opens her eyes to look up at you. eager to get a similar reaction out of her, you experimentally flex the muscles against jackie’s cunt, grinding carefully. her hands grasp the thin sheets beneath her body instantly, her fingers curling up in the fabric tightly. her head falls back as she gasps: “oh my god”

“does that feel good?” you drop one hand to hold her hip.

jackie nods, her jaw slack when she gives her hips a couple of gentle rolls, dragging her wetness over the length of your leg. you watch in awe when the first actual moans spill from her lips, her voice unusually high-pitched.

you press your forehead against jackie's again, anchoring yourself to her like you're afraid of losing this moment the second there's space between you. her breath is warm but uneven, ghosting over your lips as she tilts her head, her fingers threading through your hair to pull you closer.

her open mouth brushes yours, barely, just enough to make you dizzy and press your lips to hers.

the temperature around you is rising steadily as jackie moves against your body, your breathing tangling together.

this is better than anything you’ve ever imagined already, but it is not enough.

“jackie,” you whisper. immediately, she stops the movements altogether, her brows raising in concern.

“are you okay?”

her attentiveness makes you smile. “more than okay, i just-“ you bite your lip. “i want more,”

“oh”

“is that okay?”

jackie smiles in response, shifting backwards and maneuvering you both into a new position. after some more rustling movement on the blankets, you find yourself kneeling face to face with her. the way jackie’s eyes fall to your bare chest doesn’t go unnoticed: they widen as if she’s still struggling to believe that any of this is really happening.

she takes your hand in hers, gently pressing it against the valley between l own breasts so you feel the racing of her heart against your palm.

“touch me,” jackie instructs. “and let me touch you too?”

suddenly, your position makes a lot more sense. you don’t have to be told twice. instead, you bite your lip and nod. “please”

both of you reposition your knees so your legs are spread wider, and jackie’s delicate fingers trace down your front. when they reach the hemline of your underwear, you watch her, catch the way her mouth falls open as her fingers brush over the wet patch on the fabric.

“you’re so wet” jackie murmurs in awe.

hearing those words from her is enough to set you into motion too. first, your jaw drops and you feel yourself clenching around nothing, painfully aware of the emptiness where you want to feel jackie the most. then, after a soft cry of “touch me,” you drop a hand between her thighs. jackie’s arousal is damp, soaking through the lace of her panties as you cup her carefully.

she moans your name, and her head falls against your shoulder while she simultaneously fumbles with your underwear and pushes it aside. you copy jackie’s motions, panting as you look down the little space that’s left between your bodies.

you don’t even have it in you to feel embarrassed about the moan that falls from your lips when she finds your clit and starts circling it with her index finger.

“god, jackie-“

“it’s okay,” jackie promises, her free hand cradling the back of your head. “you- oh!”

whatever she was going to say is cut short when you press your fingertips against her clit, rubbing it the same way you know you like. judging by the sharp intake of breath through her nose, it seems to be working for jackie too.

she’s the one to pick up the pace first, rubbing quicker circles. you can feel your thighs trembling already, struggling to support the weight of your body as you try to focus on touching jackie too. her wetness glides against your fingertips, practically dripping from her. occasionally, you dip lower, where her arousal pools, so you can gather it and bring it up to jackie’s stiff clit.

when she feels you there, she leans back, her pupils dilated as she looks at you in the dim light of the attic. her fingers press against your entrance. “can i?” she breathes, sounding surprisingly pleading for someone who’s just asking to touch rather than be touched. in response, you do the same for her: a singular finger toying at her throbbing hole.

when jackie pushes two of her own into you, you immediately follow suit, shuddering as she slides in with ease. your moans mingle together in the thick air, only half aware that, if any of the others come back inside now, they will definitely hear you through the floorboards.

“more,” you whine.

jackie pulls her fingers out slowly at your request, until only their tips are still inside, then pushes them back as far as they’ll go, tearing a soft cry from the back of your throat. “oh, jackie!”

her own walls throb around your still finger -which you have almost forgotten about until you feel her squeeze it. weakly, you curl it forward against jackie’s g-spot, trying to make up for your lack of movement. her eyes roll back in her head instantly.

"oh-“ she whines softly. “oh my god-“

you manage some gentle thrusts into her before you slide in a second one. jackie easily takes it.

regardless of your efforts, she doesn’t stop moving and her thrusts don’t falter. jackie, unlike you, keeps up with ease, her fingers reaching deeper than your own ever did. when she curls them in a come hither motion, you reach for her and jackie pulls you in closer, pressing her lips against yours to stifle your sounds.

it doesn’t take long at all until you feel a knot forming in your abdomen, tightening with every press and thrust.

when you part from her to catch her eyes, there's a string of spit connecting your mouths. the sight, the sensations, the knowledge that you’re hers in a way not even the wilderness can undo is all so much, and enough to have you on the edge of the first orgasm in months.

you know exactly what it’ll take for her to finally make you cum. and, even though her touch feels too good for you to string together coherent sentences, you manage a quiet: “jackie, god, i’m close!”

jackie, bless her, seems to understand: she finds your clit with her thumb while still pumping her other two fingers into you, and rubs it just like she did before, studying your face for a reaction.

"right there!“ your head lulls back, each breath coming high-pitched and every muscle tense. your hips rock against her hand and she starts circling your clit faster, adding just the right amount of pressure.

that, and her other hand sneaking up your body to roll your nipple between two of her fingers, is all it takes.

“jackie-“ you never get to finish what you were going to say. instead, you feel your orgasm washing over you in pulsing waves. a breathless moan dies in your throat when the world around you shifts out of focus and your thighs shake violently around her wrist.

just like that, you come, coating her fingers in your release as your legs give out beneath you. somewhere through the sensations, you hear jackie’s whine when your fingers slip from her, but you’re still too caught in the pleasure to really care.

finally, when it fades, you open your eyes to look up at her. jackie is panting and removes her hand from between your legs. she’s still kneeling over you but is quick to settle down in your lap now that you’re no longer holding your weight on your knees.

“here,” she pants, wrapping one arm around your shoulders as the other guides you back between her thighs. you know what to do without any more instructions: you give yourself to her, letting her use your fingers to get herself off too.

jackie slides down onto you, jaw going slack as you slip into her with ease. you hold her by the waist to support the gentle rocking motions that make the floorboards creak.

her nails dig into your skin, leaving half-moon shapes on your shoulder blades, and she cries out quietly. you watch the scene through heavy-lidded eyes while jackie rides your fingers, getting closer and closer to the sounds of skin slapping against skin. she picks up her pace until she’s practically bouncing on top of you, her chest heaving erratically.

jackie is beautiful, you knew this about her already, but -as you watch her cum- you doubt anything else could ever compare to this sight: she pulls you closer so that her mouth is right by your ear and her face is buried in the crook of your neck, repeating your name like a prayer, not stopping even as her body tenses.

her fingers clutch at you desperately, as if you're the only thing that's keeping her grounded, but she doesn't stop. doesn't let up until she's all spent and collapses into your arms. you hold jackie through it, pressing your lips to her temple, your hands steady where she needs them most.

it takes long until you’ve both fully recovered. neither of you recalls how you ended up lying in the messy sheets, with jackie’s head resting on your chest and your fingers combing through her hair. she has her arm draped over your waist, gently stroking across your side. you don’t speak.

eventually, she shifts, pressing her face further into your chest. “we should probably go back down,” jackie murmurs, though she makes no effort to move.

you hum. “do you want to?”

she’s quiet for a moment before shaking her head. “not yet,”

you smile, letting your hand settle on her back. “then we won’t,”

[crowsongcaws]

(This is easily one of my favorite depictions of Codfather Jimmy, it feeds into my Empires s1 worldbuilding interest, and YES long hair!!! I love this account so much, I depend on each daily post, of course I had to write something)

The Codfather could feel a pair of eyes on him.

It wasn't an entirely unusual feeling—he was used to getting stray looks whenever he stood beside his sister. They'd see the Ocean Queen in all her glory, then their gaze would slide down to him, and he'd be able to feel the disappointment like a shiver and taste the pity on his tongue. He'd never quite gotten used to it.

This stare, however, was more persistent.

The Codfather tried to shake off the feeling, tried to keep himself focused on the emperor's meeting at hand, but the itch of it made him cave within a handful of minutes.

Glancing up at the current speaker, fWhip, he quickly let his eyes flicker to each person until his eyes met Smajor's. Immediately (the elf must have just then realized how long he'd been staring), he averted his gaze and fumbled with his pen to write down any sort of useful notes. The fins on the side of the Codfather's head flapped briefly in confusion, but he couldn't ask anything while fWhip was speaking, so he tuned back into the spoken topic and tried to return to his note-taking.

It was only after the meeting had come to an end that he suddenly found Smajor by his side. Admittedly, he was left flabbergasted by the sudden interest in him, and it was getting harder to assume Smajor's true interest had something to do with the Ocean Queen. Part of his inner turmoil must've been clear on his face because Smajor had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed.

"My apologies, Codfather," Smajor managed to say, formal and polite as usual—had he ever relaxed? "I just happened to notice the feather you've got in your hair, and I was wondering if that's a new fashion statement of yours?"

"I—I mean, yes?" The Codfather stammered, his confusion only becoming more apparent by the second. "Well, uh... it isn't a new fashion thing, or a 'fashion' thing at all, it's just... new for me."

Smajor tilted his head, just as confused.

Jimmy hurriedly added, "to the Cod, the sea and the sky are one and the same. Some of the more traditional people will say that this holds true enough that in this life, I may live as Cod, but in the next life, I'll be an Avian. So this feather, it represents the life before this one and the life I'll have after—that I always have and always will strive for the best no matter what."

"'The best'?" Smajor asked.

"Probably lost in translation over the centuries," he admitted, "so everyone interprets it differently. Some people say 'the best' means world peace, individual satisfaction with work or relationships, stuff like that, but I consider it to be personal happiness. I feel like it'd be hard to achieve anything else if you weren't personally happy."

At that, Smajor hummed in agreement, but he looked lost in thought. The Codfather hadn't expected to be sharing a part of his empire's culture so suddenly (or at all), but it struck him as comforting to see someone curious about it rather than the larger and more apparent culture of the Ocean Empire. Still...

"What made you ask?" he prodded.

Smajor suddenly seemed very blank-faced, his words failing for a handful of seconds before he finally said, "I thought you were engaged—"

"Engaged!?"

"—because avians in Rivendell, we—they—give feathers to those they're supposed to marry! And I didn't realize you were being courted by an avian, and the feather was so small, I didn't know if the courtship was supposed to be subtle and you were just walking around with it anyways because you wouldn't know that—"

"I'm not engaged! Lizzie would kill me if I was and she didn't know!"

The Codfather self-consciously brought a hand up to the feather, debating whether to tuck it away or remove it altogether in his wave of embarrassment, but Smajor was quicker—the elf reached out and grabbed his hand, startling them both.

"I'm sorry—" "I hope I didn't bother you—"

They both paused, and at that point, both had felt enough embarrassment to last for weeks. Smajor carefully pulled the Codfather's hand away from the feather, gently smoothing out the hair to not get tangled with the single feather.

"I'm sorry," Smajor repeated, "I just... didn't want you embarrassing yourself, and I just ended up embarrassing myself instead."

"It was a nice thought! And, well, it was nice to see someone notice. No one really asks about the Cod Empire if it isn't slime-related," The Codfather laughed, if only to mask his disappointment.

"... If you want to talk about it more, I'd love to learn more. None of my books ever teach much about the culture of other empires."

"Are you sure? It can be messy, and uh, a lot of it is just spoken history since it's so difficult to get everything written down in a majority-underwater empire—"

"Then I'll listen. Maybe take some notes if I can, so there's something in Rivendell about it."

The Codfather felt like he would genuinely cry over such an offer.

He eagerly said, "You know what? Sure! Just, send a letter! When you've got the time, of course. Leave the rest to me!"

...

Some years later, the Codfather would have a white feather of his own tangled in his hair.

...

One life later, an avian with bright yellow wings would wake up in a death game with the faintest memory of snow-cold hands and red poppies.

ah ... perchance a codfather ? or , If you are familiar at all with Jimmy's legacy smp , well . a jimmy clueless never hurt anyone ....

Day 75!

Codfather!! I just think he's pretty neat.

[heliosunny]

Yandere!Reader x Mydei

You were always there. Always watching. Always loving. And yet-

He never saw you.

From the moment you first laid eyes on Mydei, your world had revolved around him. You watched his struggles, his quiet victories, the loneliness he carried behind that sharp gaze. The world ignored him, but you didn’t. You knew his worth, his brilliance, the fire that burned inside him.

So you helped. From the shadows, where your love belonged.

A whisper in the right ear to push his name forward. A lost item appearing just when he needed it. An obstacle erased before it ever reached his path. You removed his enemies, lifted him up, smoothed the rough edges of his world—all without him ever knowing.

And that was fine.

It was enough to see him flourish, to watch from afar as he stepped closer to greatness, closer to the life he deserved.

Until he looked at her.

She was nothing special. A noble’s daughter, with soft words and kinder eyes than most. She had spoken to him once, twice, perhaps with genuine warmth, nothing more.

Yet, when Mydei began to notice the strange fortune surrounding him, when he started piecing together the way unseen hands had shaped his success, he made a mistake.

He thought it was her.

You watched in silence as he approached her, as he thanked her for things she had never done, as he lingered in her presence with quiet admiration.

Your fingers curled into your palms, nails pressing into skin.

That wasn’t right. That wasn’t fair.

She hadn’t been the one who whispered words of encouragement when no one else believed in him. She hadn’t erased the threats in his path. She hadn’t bled for him.

She didn’t deserve his love.

You were the one who had always been there. You were the one who had watched him struggle, who had lifted him up without ever asking for thanks.

You were the one who loved him most.

And yet, he still hadn’t seen you.

Not yet.

One day, he would turn around and realize who had been there all along. One day, he would understand that no one else could love him like you do. One day, he would look at you the way he looked at her now.

And until that day came…

You would keep watching. Keep waiting.

Because Mydei was yours.

He just didn’t know it yet.

The ballroom was warm, suffocating with conversation. You stood among your noble acquaintances, their laughter and idle chatter blending into meaningless noise. You barely listened. Your mind was elsewhere—on him.

Mydei was here tonight. Somewhere in the crowd.

You had no right to approach him, no excuse to step into his world. Not yet. Not when he still didn’t see you.

Instead, you watched from afar, as you always did. You let your eyes trace the way he held himself, shoulders squared, gaze sharp, his presence an undeniable force despite the way others overlooked him. He was always so composed, so carefully guarded.

But then—he smiled.

At her.

Your stomach twisted, sharp and aching.

She was speaking to him again. And Mydei leaned in, his golden eyes holding something dangerously close to admiration.

A bitter taste filled your mouth.

You turned away, forcing yourself to engage in conversation, to pretend the sight of him didn’t make your chest ache with unspoken longing. Your noble friends prattled on—politics, alliances, meaningless pleasantries, but it all blurred into the background.

Then, in a moment of cruel irony, fate intervened.

Someone moved too close, their dress sweeping against your leg, and before you could steady yourself, your balance faltered—just for a second, just enough for you to stumble back. Straight into someone’s chest.

Firm hands caught your arms, steadying you before you could fall. You barely had time to breathe before a voice spoke just above your ear.

“Careful.”

Slowly, you turned your head, his golden eyes met yours, and for the first time, they were really looking at you. Your heart was pounding so violently you thought he might hear it.

“I…” You struggled for words, something, anything, but your mind had gone blank.

His touch lingered for a moment too long before he stepped back, giving you space.

“I don’t believe we’ve spoken before.” Mydei said.

No, you hadn’t. But you had watched him for years.

Your fingers clenched at your sides, the ache in your chest unbearable. Finally, after all this time, he was looking at you. Finally, you had his attention.

But not in the way you wanted.

You swallowed down the storm inside you and forced a smile, dipping your head slightly. “Perhaps not directly. But I know of you, Lord Mydei.”

His lips curved, faintly amused. “Do you?”

You met his gaze, heart thundering. “Yes.” More than you could ever admit.

For the first time, he was standing before you. Speaking to you.

And for the first time, you weren’t just a shadow in the background.

Mydei did not forget you after that night.

You had expected him to, as he had so many others. He was a man with greater ambitions, a mind too sharp to waste on idle courtly chatter. He was destined for more, for greatness, for a world beyond the fleeting amusement of a single ballroom conversation.

And yet, in the days that followed, you felt his gaze linger.

The next time you attended a gathering, you caught him watching. Not for long, just a glance, just a flicker of curiosity before his attention returned to business, but it was there. Mydei, the man who had never spared you a thought, was now aware of you.

It made your heart pound with something dangerously close to hope.

The problem was, he was getting too close.

Not in the way you had dreamed, no, this was not the sweet surrender of affection, not yet. This was intrigue. Suspicion. Interest.

He sought you out at gatherings now, brief exchanges turning into longer conversations. A casual comment became a measured observation. A passing glance became a moment of study. He was watching you, as if trying to place where he had seen you before, as if something about you didn’t quite make sense.

And that… that was dangerous.

Because the truth was, you had been with him far longer than he realized.

The letters that never reached his enemies. The alliances that crumbled before they could form against him. The quiet disappearances of those who whispered doubts about his rise.

You had done so much for him, unseen, unheard. You had shaped his world, softened his path, ensured his success in ways he would never fully understand.

And if he did understand—if he ever truly uncovered the depth of your devotion, the lengths you had gone to...

Would he be grateful?

Or would he recoil?

The thought haunted you as much as it thrilled you.

You should have stepped back. You should have let his curiosity fade, allowed him to forget your existence like all the others.

But now that his gaze was on you, now that he had finally noticed you, how could you let him look away?

At first, you played your role carefully, engaging but never too eager, distant but never cold. You let him chase, let his intrigue grow. You gave him just enough to keep him wondering.

But Mydei was clever.

He started testing you in small ways. Asking about things he shouldn’t have thought you’d know. Mentioning old enemies, waiting to see if your reaction faltered. Speaking of past betrayals, watching for the flicker of recognition in your eyes.

He was searching for something.

And for the first time, you felt the trap you had so carefully avoided for years begin to close in around you.

The obsession you had kept hidden, the devotion that had lived in the dark corners of your heart, was now exposed to the light.

And Mydei was staring straight into it.

Mydei wasn’t a man prone to paranoia, but he was a man who noticed patterns—subtle shifts, inconsistencies in the grand game of power and influence. And something about you didn’t quite fit.

At first, he brushed it off. You were interesting, yes, but not an immediate concern. A noble with sharp wit and a presence that lingered longer than expected. Nothing more.

But then there were the coincidences.

You always seemed to know the right things to say, even when the topic was something only those entrenched in his struggles should understand. A political maneuver that had been arranged in secrecy, a name that should have been unfamiliar to you, yet you reacted, just for a fraction of a second.

He tested you again.

A casual mention of an old rival, one who had suddenly lost favor and vanished from court. Most nobles would have responded with idle curiosity or feigned ignorance.

But you had blinked.

A slow, measured movement. Just barely there.

It wasn’t proof. Not yet. But it was enough to make him look closer.

And once he started looking, he couldn’t stop.

The disappearances. The unexpected fortunes. The unseen hands that had smoothed his rise to power, eliminating threats before he had even lifted a finger.

It had never made sense before. But now, there was you.

And the question he couldn’t shake: Had you always been there?

He began to watch you, the way you had watched him for years.

And he saw it, the way your gaze followed him when you thought he wasn’t looking. The way your fingers curled when he spoke with others, an almost imperceptible tension in your posture. The way your presence, once unnoticed, had always been.

Memories resurfaced. Faint whispers of things he had long overlooked. The gifts that appeared without a sender. The enemies that fell before they could strike. The sense of being watched, always watched, even in his loneliest moments.

The realization settled like a slow-moving storm, creeping through his veins, twisting through his thoughts.

It had been you.

All this time, it had been you.

And yet, you continued to pretend.

You smiled when he approached, feigned innocence when he asked careful questions, danced so gracefully around the truth.

But now, Mydei wasn’t just intrigued.

He was certain.

For all its danger, for all its quiet madness—

Wasn’t it beautiful?

No one else had ever loved him like this.

And Mydei had never been one to turn away an advantage.

So, instead of pulling away, he stepped closer.

And as he studied you, as he traced the shape of your obsession with newfound understanding, he wondered—

How far would you go for him?

The party was suffocating. You had no interest in any of it, least of all in watching her drape herself over Mydei with soft smiles and fluttering lashes.

You had seen enough.

So you slipped away, weaving through the crowd like a ghost, unseen, unheard. The night air was a welcome relief as you stepped onto the balcony, the cool breeze biting at your skin. The world outside stretched before you—vast, dark, endless. You hummed your favorite song.

You had always belonged in the shadows.

Alone, you let out a slow breath, leaning against the marble railing.

But the moment of peace didn’t last.

A presence followed you,

You knew who it was before he even spoke.

“You leave so suddenly” Mydei mused, his voice smooth, measured. “Tired of the party?”

You forced a small smile before turning to face him. He stood just inside the doorway.

“I wasn’t in the mood for… theatrics” you admitted, glancing briefly at the glowing ballroom behind him. The sight of her laughing, of him standing so close to her, it made something in you ache.

He stepped onto the balcony, the door clicking shut behind him. “Is that all?”

You tilted your head slightly. “What else would it be?”

A moment of silence lingered for too long. The night wind stirred, carrying the faint hum of music from inside. Mydei’s gaze never wavered, studying you with that same unsettling intensity he had carried for weeks.

“I know what you’ve done.”

What?

For a heartbeat, you considered feigning ignorance. Pretending you didn’t understand. But the way he was looking at you like pinning you in place, waiting for a reaction—made it clear.

He knew.

Your fingers curled against the cold marble. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re good at hiding” he admitted, stepping closer. “I almost didn’t notice.”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to remain still as he closed the space between you.

“The disappearances. The convenient misfortunes of those who opposed me. The way my path has always been… smooth.” He let the words linger before tilting his head slightly. “That wasn’t luck, was it?”

You said nothing.

Because what could you say? Lie? He wouldn’t believe it. Confess? You weren’t ready for that.

His golden eyes searched yours, waiting, expecting. He was giving you a chance—to explain, to unravel, to break beneath his gaze.

But you couldn’t.

So you smiled. “And if it wasn’t luck?”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as if testing the weight of your words. Then, Mydei did something unexpected. He laughed.

He shook his head, exhaling as if he should have known.

“Of course” he murmured, looking at you not with fear, not with anger—but with understanding.

He wasn’t pushing you away. He wasn’t disgusted.

He was accepting it.

He stepped closer, close enough that you could see the sharp gleam in his gaze. “Tell me,” he murmured, voice almost gentle. “How long have you been watching me?”

The truth sat on your tongue, too heavy to speak.

Instead, you let your eyes meet his.

For once, it was he who waited.

For once, it was he who longed for an answer.

And in that moment, standing beneath the moonlight, you knew—

He would never look away again.

Because now, he saw you.

And he wasn’t afraid.

The night air felt heavier now. Mydei stood before you, golden eyes sharp, unblinking, waiting- waiting for you to give yourself away.

You had been careful for years. You had hidden your devotion behind polite smiles and distant glances, behind carefully orchestrated events that led him to where he was now.

But now he knew. And you had a choice.

Deny it. Pretend. Hide.

You took a slow step closer, your voice quiet but unwavering. “Tell me, Mydei.” you murmured, “if I told you I intended to kill her tonight—what would you do?”

The amusement in his expression didn’t falter, but something shifted.

You reached out, brushing a gloved hand against the marble railing. “If I see you dance with her,” you continued, voice softer, “I will slip a blade between her ribs before the night ends. If you laugh at her words, I will have her poisoned before dawn.”

You tilted your head, watching him closely. “I will remove anything that stands in your way. I always have.” A pause, deliberate, lingering. “And I always will.”

The night’s cold wind whispered against your skin, but it wasn’t nearly as chilling as the way Mydei looked at you now.

Not with horror.

Not with revulsion.

But with understanding.

A slow exhale left his lips. He tilted his head, studying you like an unsolved puzzle. “Is that so?” he mused.

You had tested him. And he had not stepped away.

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. “Yes.”

For the first time, you wanted him to see. You wanted him to know the depth of your devotion, the lengths you would go for him. If he truly cared, if he truly loved you, he would not turn away.

And he didn’t.

Instead, he did something far more dangerous.

He smiled.

It was faint, barely there, but you saw it.

“Then tell me...” he murmured, stepping closer, his voice almost tender. “What else have you done for me?”

He wasn’t rejecting you.

He was inviting you deeper.

And as his golden eyes bore into yours, you realized

You weren’t the only one testing love tonight.

Mydei’s gaze didn’t waver, nor did yours. You had laid yourself bare before him, stripped of pretense, shrouded only in the devotion that had long festered in the shadows.

And he had not turned away.

But something inside you still trembled.

This is love? This twisted, uncertain thing?

You had loved him for so long, but now, as he knew you, as he smiled at your confessions—doubt whispered in your mind like a curse.

Could you bear it?

Could you bear this kind of love?

Your fingers curled against the cold marble of the balcony railing, and as you shifted your weight ever so slightly, you felt it—

A creak. A subtle groan of aged, rusted metal.

Ah.

Wouldn’t this be fitting?

You leaned back.

For a fleeting moment, you felt nothing but air beneath you, the weight of the world slipping away.

If mortal love is this twisted, if he does not truly love me as I love him—then I do not want to see his face when he turns away. I would rather fall. I would rather disappear.

Wind rushed past your skin as you plunged downward.

Then-

A force crashed into you from above, warmth enveloping you, and the next thing you knew, you were held.

The impact was harsh, jarring, but not fatal. Pain shot through your body as you landed against something firm, something solid—someone.

Mydei.

He had jumped after you.

You lay sprawled against him on the ground, his body cushioning your fall, his breath coming in short, controlled bursts beneath you.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of wind rustling through the trees, the distant hum of music from the ballroom above.

Then, his voice- edged with something dangerously close to anger.

“What the hell was that?”

Your fingers trembled against his chest. His heartbeat was rapid beneath your palm, a steady, alive thing. He was here. He had followed you.

You blinked, lips parting, but no words came.

Mydei’s grip on you tightened, fingers digging into your arms as he sat up, keeping you close. His golden eyes burned as they met yours, and in them, you saw something furious.

“You knew it was unstable,” he said, voice sharp, accusing. “You leaned on it anyway.”

You stared at him, dazed, heart pounding against your ribs. “You—”

“I jumped.” His voice was lower now, quieter, but no less intense. “Because I was not going to let you die.”

The weight of his words pressed into you, heavier than the fall, heavier than the years you had spent watching him from the shadows.

He had not hesitated. He had followed, without question, without pause.

He had chosen to fall with you.

“You—” your voice was barely above a whisper. “You caught me.”

Mydei exhaled sharply, his gaze softening for just a fraction of a second. Then, with a wry, bitter chuckle, he muttered

“Of course I did.”

And just like that, your world shattered again.

Your breath was still uneven, heart hammering wildly in your chest. Mydei’s grip on you hadn’t loosened. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.

You had tested him—you had leaned into the fall, expecting something, anything, to prove to you that this love was as hopeless as you had always feared.

And yet, instead of letting you break, he had caught you.

The two of you were still lying in a tangled heap beneath the balcony, and if anyone saw.. You couldn’t let this moment be ruined.

With a sudden, desperate urgency, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him up with you, ignoring the dull ache in your limbs as you stumbled toward the darker edges of the garden. Somewhere hidden. Somewhere only the two of you existed.

“Mydei—”

His name was a whisper on your lips, but he followed without resistance.

You didn’t stop until you were shrouded in shadows, the only light filtering through the treetops in silver fragments. Only then did you turn to face him, your chest rising and falling as you gathered the last of your resolve.

He was watching you again.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

And then—

“I love you.”

The words fell from your lips like a confession, like a final act of madness, as if speaking them into existence would either set you free or doom you forever.

It was the truth, the one thing you had never dared to say outright. Not like this.

You had spent years proving it in ways he was never meant to see. Through blood. Through silent devotion. Through the careful, careful work of shaping the world around him, removing obstacles before he even noticed they were there.

But now, under the moonlight, stripped of everything but the raw, aching truth, you wanted to see—needed to see what he would do when faced with it.

Mydei exhaled, a slow, measured breath, his expression unreadable. He took a single step forward, closing the space between you.

“And if I hadn’t caught you?” His voice was quiet, yet heavy. “Would you have let yourself die tonight?”

Your throat tightened. “Does it matter?”

His fingers caught your chin, tilting your face up toward him. “It does to me.”

He was too close now. Too close.

He could laugh. He could mock you. He could turn away and leave you in the cold, dragging your love into the grave where it belonged.

But instead—

He kissed you.

It was slow at first, deliberate, as if he were testing the weight of your devotion on his lips. But then his fingers curled into the fabric of your clothes, pulling you closer, and all hesitation burned away.

The world tilted, your mind spiraling, caught in the space between the years you had spent longing for him and the sheer, terrifying reality of having him now.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

Your heart pounded.

His fingers traced your jaw, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Tell me,” he murmured, “how far would you go for me?”

You smiled. He already knew the answer.

----

Requester: @yanderebluelockfan

P/s: I even looked up the subtitles of the song in my own language to see if there are any hints to it. I love the vibe tho, listen quite a few time before your request. Still, I'm not sure if it's related at all to your video hahaha, pardon me if it's not to your liking.

At first, I thought of a setting where reader is a creature like vampire or even powerful beings like some sort of god, but that would be easy to guess. So I picked someone normal but capable of doing something extra/abnormal for their love.

I strived for the yearning/longing type of love where reader didn't receive his attention and even doubt his love later on. So.. yeah, we have this.

Sorry for making you wait!

[hyunjuenthusiast]

Im craving for angst , so girl can you write about Hyun ju x female reader

Basically Hyun ju and female reader have been dating for 1 and half year now, but things didn't went so well after attending squid game, Hyun ju gave young mi more attention , than she did for female reader so she distance herself from Hyun ju and her team, wondering why female reader ditched her. So female reader went to Gi Hun's team instead. And to make things worse not only Hyun ju voted O to continue the game, but Hyun ju lost the love of her life during the Mingle, ANND.. It took Hyun ju 2 to 4 business days to figure out that she hasn't been a good girlfriend ever since they came to squid game and Hyun ju Crashes out so badly.

(Female reader committed su!cide during Mingle, died instead of young mi and the shaman lady predicted female reader's death)

(And YES the guilt is definitely eating Hyun ju alive)

Sorry if this is too long

Take your time for this one

゜・（／。＼）・゜

Okayyyy complex, I like it! Hopefully I do this ask justice 🙏🏻

HER ANGEL

Pairing: Hyun-ju x femreader

Warnings: ANGST, depression, death, suicide, longing, survivors guilt.

Insecure. That was a word Y/n had always been familiar with. Ever since she was little. Her mother would criticize everything she did. If she ate too much, if she didn't eat enough. If her hair was down, if her hair was up. If she smiled, and if she didn't smile. Everything she did up until she was an adult was judged.

When she finally got the taste of freedom, moving out at the ripe age of eighteen, she discovered that the world was an ugly place. Nothing like how she fantasized how it would be. The books were wrong.

For the first few years after moving out, she was alone. Truly alone. She had no one. No friends to call late at night, no fuzzy kitten to cuddle when she had tears running down her face on a rainy day. No significant other who would whisper sweet nothings to her as she fell asleep... No one.

Not until she met her angel. Hyun-ju.

Everything had changed. For the first time in her life, Y/n felt like she deserved to take up space in the world. Hyun-ju made her feel wanted, loved. She erased every insecurity Y/n had. She loved every flaw and imperfection. She kissed her scars and wiped her tears.

Hyun-ju was her soul mate.

Y/n didn't care that her angel was different. She didn't care how people looked at them in public. Hyun-ju was perfect, in every way. Even if her angel couldn't see it for herself.

Hyun-ju told Y/n of her wishes for surgery. She had cried to Y/n about her debt and abandonment. And Y/n was there to comfort her in return, wiping her angels tears away and whispering promises.

So when a nice-looking man asked Y/n to play a game, showing her the money she would win, of course she agreed. For her angel, for Hyun-ju.

Y/n didn't need convincing to call the number on the back on the card. Once she saw Hyun-ju looking at herself in front of the mirror, her eyes filled with loathing, she dialed the number.

It was the least she could do. Hyun-ju had given Y/n her sense of self back. She had given Y/n her smile back. Of course, she would return the favor. Anything for her angel.

Waking up to the blasted music, she looked around to see other people. Waring the ugliest green she had ever seen. Looking down at herself, she saw her jacket was labeled 005.

She gathered around like everyone else. Waiting for an explanation. There were so many pink guards and even more players. They explained that they weren't trying to collect debt or cause any harm.

"Excuse me!" Said a voice. Not just any voice. Her angel's voice. Y/n quickly turned and saw Hyun-ju. Her Hyun-ju standing near a couple of bunks. She didn't catch what her angel said next, only focused on the fact that she was here.

Y/n winced as she saw Hyun-ju getting slapped. That was the day her angel had gone on a walk. She remembers her coming home, acting strange. Hyun-ju had met the salesman before Y/n did.

As all the players walked in single file lines up the colorful steps to get their pictures taken, Y/n looked around for Hyun-ju. Seeing her fixing her hair prettily, she smiles and quickly walks up to her. "Angel!" Y/n gushes.

Instead of greeting Y/n with a smile, Hyun-ju tenses. Asking her what she was doing here. "I know how much you need the money..." Y/n whispers softly, watching as Hyun-ju's eyes soften.

As they all walk into the first game, Hyun-ju holds Y/n's hand. "Don't separate from me, sweet girl. Okay?" Her angel asks softly. Y/n squeezes her hand in return.

"What is that?" Y/n asks, pointing to the giant doll like figure in the distance.

"Green light..."

Y/n quickly runs forward a few steps, then stops.

"Red light!" The doll waits, seeing if anyone would move.

The first to go was 196. Y/n stood, stiff as a board, the sound of people dying behind her. When the doll says green light, no one moves forward, but Hyun-ju reaches over and grips Y/n's hand.

Player 456 explains that they will die anyway if they don't cross the finish line in time, and so, she stays behind Hyun-ju, racing towards the finish line.

Once across, she watches in horror as her angel races back across to help player 456. This is the first and only time that Y/n has ever wanted to yell at Hyun-ju.

The second game is the six legged pentathlon. Her and Hyun-ju look around for more teammates. She notices Hyun-ju's fallen expression when people stare at her, and when they don't want to join because of her.

"Excuse me?" A timid voice says from behind the both of them. Y/n and Hyun-ju turn to see a small girl, obviously nervous. "W-Would you...like to team up with me?" She asks, looking at Hyun-ju first, then to Y/n.

Ever since then, Hyun-ju had been attached at the hip with Young-Mi. It was hard for Y/n not to notice, especially in a place like this. When she wanted comfort and reassurance from her angel, she would see that Hyun-ju was already comforting Young-Mi, that she was already whispering words of encouragement to her instead of Y/n.

But that was just who her angel was. She was kind to everyone, and Y/n had no right to take that away from Young-Mi. Y/n could clearly see how terrified the small girl was, and if Hyun-ju was her safe place, then who was Y/n to take that away from her?

That's was until Y/n heard it. What Hyun-ju was saying to Young-Mi.

"I won't let anything happen to you, sweet girl." Hyun-ju had said. Y/n felt her stomach drop. Sweet girl. That was Y/n's nickname. That was her word of endearment.

She decided to give them space. Joining player 456 and his team.

The third game was mingle.

As they all stood on the platform, Y/n watched as Hyun-ju held Young-Mi's hand, giving her soft smiles. Y/n felt horrible for feeling envious. Would she always be cursed to be this insecure? Would she ever feel content with anything?

"TEN"

The voice said. Everyone scrambled to find their groups and rooms. So far, their team had nine after joining Hyun-ju. Until her angel grabbed the crazy shaman lady.

Running into the green room, Y/n pants, not even bothering to look at her angel holding onto another woman. Hyun-ju gives her a confused look, wondering why she had left their group.

"Your heavy sorrow will swallow you whole." The crazy lady says, making everyone look at her. Y/n shrinks into herself as she realizes that she's talking to her. "You won't last much longer, I'm afraid. Pity. You have the purest birthstone."

"SIX" the voice says.

Gi-hun and Young-il had split from the group, leaving Y/n no other choice but to join Hyun-ju.

They all run to a yellow door, freezing in their tracks as they see a group is already in there. Hyun-ju races to find a different one.

She found one.

Y/n starts to run towards it with the other people in her group, but when she sees player 333 running towards it too, she slows down.

Looking over at her angel, she sees her clutching Young-Mi's hand.

The pregnant girl holds her belly.

The mother and sun cling to each other.

Where did Y/n fit into that? She didn't.

She has seen Jun-hee talking to player 333 on several occasions...

She needed him, more than any of them needed Y/n.

She made her decision then.

As player 333 races into the room, she finally hears Hyun-ju calling for her. Her angel was trying to get 333 out of the way.

Y/n walks to the door, looking into the small slit. "Y/n, what the hell are you doing? Go find a room! Go!" Hyun-ju shouts. Y/n only shakes her head softly.

"Ita okay angel." She whispers, putting her hands onto the door. Hyun-ju is starting to panic. The timer still had thirteen seconds on it. "I know there's no place for me here. Not now." Y/n says, tearing up.

Hyun-ju continues to shout, begging Y/n to go find a room. "You made me feel so inside the lines, Hyun-ju. Like I wasn't a lost shade outside of the pretty design. I could actually fit inside the art." Y/n says with a sad smile.

"I never thanked you for that." She says. "Thank you for showing me. For guiding me to see who I was for the first time."

Nine seconds on the timer.

"I know you'll be happy. You'll make it out of here and live the life you've always dreamed of...live the life you've always deserved. A life, with Young-Mi." Y/n's lip quivers.

Four seconds on the timer.

Hyun-ju starts shaking the door, sobbing and yelling. "I love you, my angel." She whispers tearfully, letting out a pained breath as she feels the bullet peirce her back.

"NO! Y/N!"

Player 333 had left that room beaten to a bloody pulp.

At first, Young-Mi's hand doesn't feel out of place instead of her own, not for the next two games.

Until Y/n's words repeat instead of her head.

A life...with Young-Mi.

Once she realizes it, she drops Young-Mi's hand as if it had burned her. She had been holding the wrong woman. Comforting the wrong woman. Calling her...

She had called the wrong woman sweet girl.

Hyun-ju looks over to Young-Mi, a tear falling. She had made the love of her life question her love.

She had been at fault for her sweet girl's death. Not 333. Not even the guards. Hyun-ju was the reason.

"Don't worry. You'll be seeing her again, " the shaman says. "A lot sooner than you think."

For the next game... was human chess.

I'm scared.... what do we think?

[kiss4tell]

𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃, simon riley.

summary: a princess raised in a world of rules and expectations finds herself entangled with a thief who should mean nothing to her—but as stolen glances turn into stolen kisses, she realizes she’s never wanted anything more. cw: forbidden romance, makeout scene, implied danger, secret meetings, longing, angst. thief!simon, princess!user. wc: 1.1k note: thief!simon and knight!johnny were so close in the poll that i might just make a johnny one too.

The first time you meet him, you don’t know his name.

You don’t know that he’s a thief, that he’s dangerous, that he should be nowhere near the castle walls. All you know is the rough press of a gloved hand over your mouth, the sharp scent of leather and damp stone, the solid weight of a body pinning you into the shadows.

Moonlight filters through the high-arched windows of your chambers, casting silver ribbons across the polished marble floor. The distant flicker of torches in the hallway stretches long shadows beneath the ornate wooden doors, their golden inlays glowing faintly in the dim light. The guards—your father’s men—are just beyond that threshold. Close enough that if you made a sound, they would hear you.

Your heartbeat is a war drum, frantic and unforgiving. Your breathing is shallow beneath the suffocating press of his body. He’s solid, warm despite the night’s chill, and when he leans in, you feel the rasp of his voice against the shell of your ear.

“Not a sound, princess.”

He says it like he’s amused. Like this is nothing to him. A game.

The footsteps in the corridor pause, and your body tenses. If they open the door, they will see him. You will be caught in his arms. You’ll be questioned, accused—punished. The weight of expectation, of propriety, presses on you heavier than the man holding you captive.

And then, finally, the footsteps fade. The torches continue down the hall, leaving your room untouched.

His hand drops from your mouth, but before you can take in a proper breath, you’re spun around, your back hitting the cold stone wall. He cages you in, arms braced on either side of your head, and the moonlight finally reveals his face.

A mask of shadows and sharp angles.

A scar curves across his cheek, partially hidden by the fall of his hood. His eyes are dark, unreadable, gleaming with something sharp. There’s a smirk on his lips, a quiet kind of arrogance that makes your stomach twist with something you refuse to name.

“Pretty thing,” he murmurs, his voice like rough-cut velvet. “Bet you’ve never had a man in your chambers like this before.”

Your breath stutters between your lips, a mix of outrage and something else.

“Who are you?” you whisper.

His grin deepens, wicked and knowing. He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, and his next words send a shiver down your spine.

“No one you should be thinking about, love.”

And then, just like that—he’s gone.

Vanished into the night like a ghost.

╋━

The next morning, you find a ring on your windowsill.

It’s nothing extravagant—just a simple silver band, slightly tarnished, a little worn. It’s far too plain to belong to the royal treasury, too rough for a nobleman’s taste. And yet, it sits there, glinting in the soft morning light as if waiting for you to claim it.

You don’t touch it. You shouldn’t touch it.

But that night, when you step into the royal gardens for some air, he’s waiting.

The air is thick with the scent of roses and damp earth, the evening breeze whispering through the hedgerows. The stone paths are still warm from the day’s sun, the ivy-covered trellises casting intricate shadows across the courtyard. He stands just beyond the torchlight, shrouded in darkness, leaning casually against an old stone pillar.

“You don’t like my gift?”

His voice is low, teasing, curling around you like smoke.

You turn, pulse kicking up as you spot the gleam of his eyes beneath the hood. His clothes are dark, his posture easy, as if he has every right to be here. As if he isn’t a common thief trespassing on royal grounds.

“You stole it.”

He chuckles, a rich, quiet sound. “Everything in that castle is stolen, princess. I just take from those who won’t miss it.”

Your breath catches at his audacity.

“Why are you here?”

He steps closer, and you don’t back away. His gloved fingers lift, tracing the delicate embroidery of your sleeve, the royal blues and golds woven into the fabric. His touch is light, barely there.

“Because you fascinate me,” he says simply. “You’re all locked away in your golden cage, waiting for some prince who’ll never deserve you.”

Heat flares in your cheeks.

“And you think you deserve me?”His lips curve into a smirk, head tilting slightly. He studies you for a long moment before murmuring, “No. But I think you wish I did.”

╋━

It becomes a game after that.

A reckless, dangerous, forbidden game.

He finds you in the places no one else does. The hidden alcoves of the library. The abandoned wings of the castle. The quiet halls before dawn, when the world is still asleep.

At first, it’s just words. A smirk. A tease. A stolen touch that lingers too long.

But then, one night, when he backs you against a cold stone wall and murmurs, “Tell me to stop”—and you don’t—things change.

He kisses you.

It’s nothing like the chaste, practiced pecks you’ve received from noble suitors. No, this is something else entirely.

His lips are firm, insistent, and when his teeth graze your lower lip, a shiver runs through you so violently you have to grip his cloak just to stay standing. His hands are everywhere—brushing your jaw, your waist, the curve of your hip. When he presses closer, trapping you against the wall, you feel the hard lines of his body, the tension coiled beneath his skin.

It’s dangerous. It’s intoxicating. It’s wrong.

And yet, when he pulls away, your hands chase after him, fingers curling into his shirt as if begging him to stay.

He exhales a quiet laugh against your cheek, nuzzling the spot just below your ear.

“You’re trouble, princess.”

And the worst part?You think you like it.

╋━

Time slips through your fingers like sand. Seasons change, and so do you.

You learn his name. You learn the stories behind his scars. You learn the feel of his hands on your skin, the weight of his mouth against yours in the darkness of your chambers, in the hidden corners of the castle where no one dares to look.

The kisses grow deeper. The touches hungrier. He tastes like danger, like freedom, like a life you can never have.

And then, one night, when he pulls you into his arms and murmurs, “Say the word, and I’ll take you with me”—

You don’t know how to answer.

Because running means leaving everything behind.

And staying means losing him forever.

So instead of speaking, you kiss him like it’s the last time.

Because maybe it is.

[thequeendesi]

A Werewolf

Title: A Werewolf

Alt Title: Imprinting

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Reader

Warnings: uhhh, none other than a mild panic attack. Reader won’t call Renesmee by her name.

Rating: PG

Summary: after growing up in Forks with your dad, your sister coming to live with you two, and the entirety of the Cullen drama, a wedding, and a life or death situation, your twin comes back home but different. And after seeing her, you become painfully aware of what really happened to her and leave only to realize you fit into her new world more than expected.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: woooooooow. So it’s been a while since I actually wrote smth and posted it! Consider this my lil welcome back. I’ve actually been so busy. I got married, I’ve started trying for a family, been babysitting kids, and death and just a whole lot of crazy. But I knew I just needed to actually write smth and finish it, and today I finally did. So please enjoy, requests are open and as always; I love yall 🩷

———

“Where are you going Dad?” You asked, looking up from your phone. You leaned against the armrest on the couch, your legs spread across the cushions. “To see Bella. She’s back in town.” He said, almost sounding confused in his statement. “Bella’s home? She didn’t call me.” You narrowed your eyebrows, turning off your phone. “I want to go.” You stood up, slipping your feet into your house shoes.

“Dressed like that?” Your dad asked, crossing his arms as he looked at you in your pajamas. “I’m not trying to impress the Cullen’s. I’m trying to interrogate them.” You crossed your arms, taking a second glance at yourself in the reflection of the tv. Unbothered by your sweatpants, tank top and robe. “How did she go from the brink of death, to moving far away to; she’s fine and can stay?” You narrowed your eyebrows. “It makes no sense. Dad, you're a cop! You’re not questioning anything?”

“I don’t know, I’m not questioning it. I’ve gotten… enough answers these last few days.” Your father ran a hand down his face. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing just…” He sighed. “Nothing. If that’s what you’re wearin’, let’s go.” He opened the door, grabbing the keys off the key rack.

You nodded, and headed outside, hearing him close and lock the door behind you. “And Jake...” He added, getting into the driver seat. “Jake? How is he tied into this?” You narrowed your eyebrows, getting into the passenger seat and buckling up.

“Another thing we don’t need to get into.”

“Something we do. Why’re you keeping secrets from me? That was Bella and mom’s thing.” You crossed your arms. “I’m not keeping secrets. I don’t know things.” He pulled out of the driveway and began driving towards Jake's. “Everything that’s going on? I don’t know. Other than Jake is a dog. And not a figurative dog. I mean the kid I’ve seen his entire life turn into a dog.” He said, almost bewildered to be saying it outloud.

“A… dog.” You nodded. “Bella had to have known. What else is going on in this town?” Your dad muttered to himself, parking in Jake’s yard.

You watched as the door swung open and out piled a handful of men. Some you remembered from when Jake brought you over, but after sometime last year you hadn’t gotten an invitation back. You couldn’t help but think it was tied to Bella.

You felt your heart pound as your eyes landed on one of the men, who was staring you down. All noises fell to soft murmurs for a second.

Your eyes continued glued to him as you snapped back into reality by feeling your dads truck move back down the road. Only until his frame was out of view did you turn around to look at Jake. “Start talking. When did you become a dog?” You asked, reminded of your previous mission: to interrogate.

Jake’s eyes shot to your dad. “Look at me.” You stated, grabbing his face to tug it your way. What used to be easy, your hand slipped off his face as his face didn’t move at all. “Do you remember when Cullen left Bella and you came to a bonfire?” He asked you.

“Yeah. Edweird left, you took me to a bonfire because she kept screaming all night and I needed a break and i heard about the legends about wolves and…” You paused. “No way…” you looked down momentarily, before looking back up at him. “The cold ones?” You asked, recalling another conversation you two had. “The Cullen’s.” He answered.

Your dads eyes shifted from the rear view mirror to you as he silently drove. “I just can’t believe it.” You turned back around in your seat, trying to ignore the painful pull in your chest.

“So… why are you coming with us to go see Bella? What aren’t you telling us? She’s not pregnant, is she?” You laughed a little bit, before turning in your seat to look at him again. “Is she?” You repeated.

“No. There’s a daughter. And um… I am her guardian protector.” He cleared his throat. “A daughter? They’ve been married for a month. That’s…” you scoffed, looking out of the window. ”apart of the weird shit you have going on.” You shook your head.

Charlie sighed as he parked the vehicle. “We’re here.” He half chuckled, looking at you. Your eyes met his, noticing his deeper bags under his eyes and stress lines in his middle forehead.

You opened your door and got out. The air felt still, almost scary. You crossed your arms, your hands holding sides of your robe as you walked up the steps to the front door.

“Creepy ass house…” you raised your hand to knock on the door, but stopped as Jacob walked straight in, Charlie following behind him. You sighed and dropped your hand, following behind them.

“Where’s Bella?” Your dad asked Carlisle. You crossed your arms as the man looked at you and your father, before gesturing down the hallway to where she was. “I wasn’t expecting you as well, (Name).” He smiled gently at you. “It’s my twin.” You responded plainly.

You followed your father and Jake.

“Hey.” Bella said. Your face finally softened as you saw her. “Bella. Are you ok?” You quickly cut your father off, moving close to examine her. Your eyebrows quickly knit themselves as you gathered… an overall off vibe from her.

“Never better. Healthy as a horse.” She laughed a little. “You… don’t turn into an animal too, do you?”

Bella smiled, her eyes shifting to Jake quickly before shaking her head.

Edward patted Jake’s shoulder gently, leaving the room. “Let’s give these three some privacy.” Jacob nodded, following behind Edward.

“Bella, I just don’t understand.” You pushed your hair from your face, beginning to pace. “You’re…” you looked at your dad, then at her. “You. But you’re not.” You gestured at her.

“I’m okay, (Name).” She said, trying to ease you. Scoffing, you readjusted your robe. “Did you just wake up?” She asked, trying to joke. “No. I just graduated high school, I’m enjoying early adulthood unemployment.”

”I need to know what happened to you.” Your dad stated, finally speaking up. “No.” Bella shook her head. “We need an explanation.”

“If you need one, I can’t stay.” Bella looked away from your dads eye contact. “No. No more going away!” Your dad spoke up.

“Just trust me. I’m alright. I’m more than alright. Can you live with that?”

Your dad scoffed. “I just watched a kid I knew his whole life turn into a very large dog.” He gestured to your twin, “my daughter looks like my daughter… but doesn’t.”

“Just trust me… I’ll tell you what you need to know.” Her gaze fell to you, knowing you knew. “And I don’t need to know this?”

“No… really, you don’t.” She shook her head. “Well… I’m not going to lose you again. I can’t.”

“You won’t. I promise.” Bella persisted.

You felt tears well in your eyes as you looked at the door way, avoiding Bella’s hug with your dad. “I missed you bells… so much.” You heard as your dad fought the tears.

A soft coo and footsteps entered the room as you exited. Your heartbeat racing as you trail down the hallway.

Opening the front door, you finally let go of the pained gasp of air you held in the back of your throat. You walked forward until you could lean against the handrail you stared into the forest. Millions of thoughts racing through your mind, but a few yelled loudly on top of the others.

Your sister is a vampire, married a vampire, probably had some weird half vampire kid, and your sisters in laws are a group of vampires.

“(Name).” Edward called to you. Closing the door behind him. “You’re not going to turn me too, are you?” You asked sarcastically.

“Uh, no.” He said softly, stepping forward to stand next to you. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth to say anything. You held your hand up. “I’m not going to say anything.” You shook your head, putting your hand back down. “But it explains everything.” You sighed.

“Her name is Renesmee.” Edward stated. “Who?” You narrowed your eyebrows. “Your niece.” He answered. “So you two did have sex before marriage.” You laughed slightly.

“No.” He shook his head. “We didn’t expect it… her.” Edward corrected himself. “She came as a surprise. She’s a week old and looks six months.” He shook his head.

“I don’t mean to sound rude,” you started, pushing yourself off of the handrail. “But learning about… what I learned today, was enough. I’m sorry, but I’ll meet Ragnorak another time.” You stated, moving past him to step off of the porch. “Where are you going?” Edward asked, watching your movements. “I don’t know.” You shrugged, throwing your hands up as you began to walk into the woods.

The dusk fell quickly as the sounds of nature filled your ears. Before Bella moved back to live with your dad and you, woods used to be your solace. You used to tell anyone who’d listen, you knew the woods of Forks, better than any of the people.

“Are you lost?” You heard a low pitched voice call out into the woods. You turned your head where the voice was coming. A tall man stood under a tree, deep red eyes staring into your soul, his hand resting against it as he leaned into it. “Pretty girls shouldn’t walk in the forest alone.” He stared, his voice suddenly in your ear.

“Get away from me.” You stepped back from him.

“I wouldn’t try running.” He stated firmly, his hands finding your wrists. “You can try. But it wouldn’t work.” He said, almost giggling a little.

“Let me go!” You shouted, attempting to pull out of his cold grip.

“Shhh… it’ll be over soon. You’re not the Swan I was intending but you’ll do.” He shrugged, letting go of your wrists. “But tell you what. I’ll give you a ten second head start… one…”

Turning around, you quickly ran down the cleared path, looking around for help.

“Nine… ten!” The vampire shouted behind you. Like thunder roaring, you heard running from multiple directions. You turned around to see the vampire still.

You gripped your robe as you noticed four insanely large wolves began circling the vampire. Loud slaps against the earth behind you roared as a dark grey wolf jumped over your head in front of the vampire.

Falling back, you winced as you back hit the root of the tree. A loud howl came from the largest wolf, whose fur was so dark you were surprised you could even see him in the dark.

You could feel the terror the vampire was feeling as the wolves circled him. Snarling, growling, barking to each other.

You pulled yourself up, turning your back as you heard the vampire scream in agony, before silence.

You noticed as your breath wouldn’t catch, your heart beat working overtime, your incessant shaking. You coughed as you tried to catch a breath, throwing your robe to the ground as you felt it suffocating you.

You cried out as you sat back onto the ground, your body shaking. “Oh my god…” you muttered, repeating it over and over. Your hands covering your face as you rocked yourself.

A soft whine came near you as the large grey wolf lowered himself to lay on the ground next to you. Your erratic breathing slowed as you peeked through your fingers to watch him move his paw from underneath him to help him lay to his side. Your eyes moved to the wolf’s, who made a small motion with his head for you to lean into him.

You closed your eyes and leaned over, your face meeting the soft fur, before fully laying into the wolf. You felt yourself relax as your breathing and heart rate began to calm as well as you listened to the wolf’s. Which sounded surprisingly calm despite what just happened.

You removed your hands from your face and rested them in your lap as you tried to regulate yourself.

After a couple of minutes, you sat up, looking at the wolf who was already staring you down intently.

“This is a part of Jake’s thing… isn’t it?” You asked the wolf, almost expecting it to answer. You held back a gasp as it nodded.

“(Name).” You turned around, meeting Sam’s gaze not realizing he was behind you . “You know?” He asked, but it was more of a statement. You nodded. He nodded back. “Paul.” He looked at the wolf.

A silent conversation was said between the two, and Paul stood up. “I’m having him take you to the rez. There’s things you need to know.” Sam said, his tone thick with dominance, reaching his hand out to you.

You nodded, taking it as he helped you to your feet. You looked at Paul as he kneeled beside you. You silently mounted him, leaning forward to steady yourself, grabbing fistfuls of his fur to keep hold.

He looked towards the other wolves who moved back into the shadows before running towards the reservation.

You listened to the fire crackle as you braid your damp hair. Emily, Sam’s wife, offered you a shower after coming in, which you greatly accepted.

“I’m glad the clothes fit.” She said, sitting next to you on the bench.

You nodded. “Thank you again.” You said, securing your braid with a hair tie and tossing it over your shoulder. “You’re welcome.” She smiled, looking at the fire.

“I’m guessing you know about the wolf thing?” You asked. “I’m very familiar with it.” She laughed softly. “And the vampire thing?”

“Well… when you believe in werewolves, vampires aren’t a stretch.” She shrugged a little. “You found out about the Cullen's?” She asked, looking at you.

You nodded a little. “I did. I have a niece too, who I completely blew off meeting today because finding out a childhood best friend turns into the world’s largest dog, your sister and her in-laws are all vampires was just a bit much.” You sighed.

“Your wrists are bruised.” Emily said softly, gingerly touching the finger bruises on your wrists.

“Thankfully the leech who did that is dead.” Sam’s voice cut into the conversation.

He sat across from the two of you, a slightly shorter, but still very tall man sat next to you. “I can’t stress how important it is that you keep all of this a secret. Not even Charlie can know.” Sam said.

“Who’s going to believe me even if I said anything?” You asked. “I wasn’t planning on saying anything to begin with. I’m honestly regretting taking this gap year, because I wouldn’t know any of this if I was in college. I think I’m actually going to move to my mother’s, actually, because apparently Forks is something a horror movie should’ve been shot at instead of people living here.”

Sam shook his head. “Paul imprinted on you.” Sam said. “Imprinted?” You asked, narrowing your eyebrows

“What’s imprinting?” You asked, looking at Paul. Sam and Emily stood and left, giving you space to get answers from Paul.

“It means you’re my mate. It’s like my center of gravity has been shifted to you. It’s no longer about my life. It’s about being yours. Your protector, your friend, your family. I’m permanently bound to you. A soulmate. I’m yours, until the end of time.” Paul finally spoke. “It’s like feeling in a bubble your entire life seeing everything warped until it’s right in front of you, then it pops. And everything’s clear and it’s the clearest it’s ever been. And you have room to run, jump, and touch. And you want to dedicate everything to this thing that popped your bubble.” He explained, his eyes never leaving yours. His words embed themself in you, igniting a small flame in your heart.

You nodded, silently acknowledging his words. “My sister and I have always been complete opposites… it’d make sense her real love is a vampire and mine is supposed to be a werewolf.” You leaned your head against Paul’s shoulder.

He moved his arm behind your head and rested on your shoulder as you leaned into him further. “And you fight vampires all the time?” You asked, attempting to get details from him.

“Not all the time. Time to time.” He answered.

“What makes the Cullen’s different?”

“Nothing in my eyes. But, our pack has a treaty with them. As long as they don’t pose a threat to the humans, they’re safe to live another day.”

“And what happened to Bella wasn’t a threat?”

“No. She wanted her lifestyle. We had to accept it. Then we had to accept their baby because Jacob imprinted on her.”

“Jacob imprinted on Renaissance?”

“I thought her name was Renesmee… anyways. Yes, but it’s not what you think. He’ll be her protector until she decides she’s ready to be his mate.” He answered. “Weird.”

“Do you go into the woods all the time?”

“Not as often.” You shook your head, enjoying the warmth. “I couldn’t stay out of them as a kid.”

“What’s your last name?”

“Lahote.”

“Nice to know that my eventual last name will be.” You half joked. “We just met and you’re already thinking of marriage?” He laughed a little. “If we’re going to be together until the end of time, I don’t think it’s crazy to think about marriage. Apparently women in my family thrive off of getting married before the frontal lobe is fully formed.”

“We don’t have to until you want to.” He said. “As long as we’re boyfriend and girlfriend from now until then.”

“What happened to a first date?”

“My kind typically skip into straight exclusivity.” Paul shrugged. “Normally after we have the ‘I imprinted on you’ talk, the ‘when are you moving in’ talk comes pretty quick.” You heard a small chuckle at the end of his sentence.

“Oh really? Well, I guess moving to my mom’s isn’t happening anytime soon?” You teased, looking up at him. “Hopefully not.” He smiled a little.

“I guess the hardest part going forward is explain to my dad I’m dating a dog.”

“Wolf. Dogs are wolves' sad and lame cousins.”

[natsaffection]

You should write more vamp nat but like fluff. PLEASE write one where vampire nat becomes like a whiney and needy dom. Or protective vampire nat, jealous vampire nat, obsessive vampire nat, possessive vampire nat

Vampire Natasha | hcs

Vampire!older!Natasha x Human!younger!Reader

A/N: Headcanons under the cut!

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Being loved by Natasha isn’t just a romance..it’s an eternal, inescapable obsession.

🩸 Natasha’s Obsession with You 🩸

• Natasha doesn’t just love you, she worships you. You are the center of her universe, the one thing keeping her grounded in an immortal existence that would otherwise mean nothing.

• She is constantly watching you, even when you think she isn’t. She lurks in the shadows, monitoring your every move, making sure you’re safe.

• Her mind is consumed by you. Even when she’s away, you are all she thinks about. Your scent lingers in her nose, your voice echoes in her head, your warmth haunts her cold, undead body.

• She needs to touch you at all times. If you so much as shift away from her, she will immediately pull you back, gripping your hips, nuzzling into your neck.

• “You are mine, Darling. You don’t get to be anywhere but here.”

• Her obsession is territorial. She wants people to know that you belong to her. She wants them to be afraid of what will happen if they forget.

• She loves marking you. Whether it’s faint bite marks, bruises from her grip, or the possessive way her scent clings to your skin, she needs the world to see her claim on you.

🩸 Overprotective & Possessive Natasha 🩸

• If Natasha could keep you locked away in a castle where no one else could see you, she would. The only reason she doesn’t is because she knows you’d fight her on it.

• No one gets too close to you. If they do, they don’t get a second chance. One wrong glance, one lingering touch, and Natasha is there, standing between you and them, her green eyes glowing with quiet rage.

• “Back. Away.” Her voice is soft, calm, but the threat is undeniable.

• She makes sure you’re never alone. If she isn’t physically beside you, you will be carrying something of hers: a jacket, a scarf, something that makes it clear you are claimed.

• If she even suspects someone is following you, they disappear before they ever reach you. You never know what happens to them. You never ask.

• “You are so fragile, lyubov..(love)” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “But don’t worry. I will never let anything hurt you.”

🩸 Jealous & Territorial Natasha 🩸

• Natasha doesn’t get jealous..she gets territorial. If someone even thinks about flirting with you, she is immediately at your side, pressing a slow kiss to your neck while glaring at them.

• She loves to make it clear that you belong to her. She’ll whisper possessive little things into your ear just to make sure everyone knows.

• “Let them look. Let them see what they can’t have.”

• If someone dares to flirt with you? She will drag you into her lap, wrapping an arm around you as she leans in close to your ear.

• “Tell them you’re taken.”

• If you hesitate for even a second, she will say it for you. With her fangs bared.

• If a vampire ever dares to challenge her claim on you? That’s a death sentence. Everyone knows better than to cross Natasha Romanoff, but if someone is stupid enough to try, she makes an example out of them.

🩸 Needy & Whiny Dom Natasha 🩸

• Despite how dominant she is, Natasha is so needy. She is clingy, whiny, and desperate for your attention.

• If you don’t give her enough affection, she will pout and sulk, curling herself around you like a spoiled cat.

• “Why are you ignoring me, moya lyubov? (My love) I’ve been so good for you.”

• If you even attempt to move away from her in bed, she whimpers dramatically, burying her face in your neck.

• “Stay. You’re warm. I’ll die without you.”

• She hates waiting. If you tease her, if you tell her “not right now.” she will physically drag you into her lap, gripping your hips tightly.

• “I don’t wait for what’s mine, Detka (Baby). And you are mine.”

• She is a spoiled dom. She doesn’t like being teased, and if you push her too far, she will make sure you regret it. She whines when denied but ruins you once she gets what she wants.

• She gets especially needy when she’s hungry. Not just for blood, but for you. You can always tell because she’ll start getting clingier than usual, constantly nuzzling into your neck, letting her lips linger against your skin for just a little too long.

• “You smell so good..” she murmurs, voice thick with longing. “I could devour you whole.”

• If you tease her? Oh, you’re doomed. If you so much as smirk and say “Not now, Nat..” she will literally whine like a spoiled brat.

• “But I need you.” Her hands grip your hips possessively, her lips pressing against your collarbone. “Please. Just one taste..”

🩸 The Monster in Love With You 🩸

• Natasha Romanoff is not a normal lover. She is obsessive. She is dangerous. She is inhumanly in love with you.

• She will never let you go. Not now, not in a hundred years. You are hers, and she is yours, and she will kill anyone who forgets that.

• She will make you feel her love. In the way she protects you, in the way she clings to you, in the way she worships your existence like a starving animal.

• And one day, she will ask you:

“Let me keep you forever.” And she will wait, patient but hungry, as you decide whether or not you want to become hers in every way possible.

Would you say yes?

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[nemo-in-wonderland]

"Let it all burn down around us Let the cruel consume the just Let the sin we swim in drown us Let the world shatter Into dust Nothing else matters Only us"

ONLY US - MIRACLE OF SOUND

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It's all about the possessivity.

It's all about consciounsly accepting that she now belongs to something - SOMEONE- much bigger than yourself and willingly walk down the path with him.

It's about literally not caring about the world around them because they are the only thing that truly matters in each other's life.

It's about a codependency that neither imagined would happen to them.

It's about obsession.

And dear Gods, I just LOVE this for them, because they are each other's match

Also, fml, I headcanon that Mephisto can change his appearance and size at will, to suit whatever Aranea needs or wishes.

But fuck my life, when he needs to assert his dominance over her, reminding her that she is his and his alone, regardless of the contract, that's when he actually choose his normal size, which is, of course, much bigger than Aranea.

(also, small side note, but I adore drawing Aranea's stretch marks. Like, considering her hair's length and the stretchmarks she has, this artwork takes place sometimes after Zaynab and Karam were born. Mephisto DOES NOT like to not be the first in Aranea's thought and while he is willing to demonstrate patience toward his children -if anything because Aranea loves them to bits, and what she loves, he loves- he still needs to remind her that she is HIS and only his - I mean, the man is toxic, we all know this by now. I also kinda headcanon that, because Aranea kinda likes Raphael as a brother, Mephisto is willing to be more lenient with him -TO AN EXTENT).

ANYWAY.

I adored working on this, drawing EACH of Mephisto's curls, which are my obsession tbh. Like, do not get me wrong, it took me AN HOUR just to draw them, but it's so relaxing, and he is so freaking handsome, I was just gawking at basically my own ocs for a good hour lolol

WELL, I HOPE YOU WILL LIKE THIS! <3