#I never thought anyone would ever want to marry me bc of all the problems I face. but being with him is just. everything. I am so happy

[coquettecowboy]

I picked out my wedding dress today 🥺💕 so so so happy and grateful and excited!! It looks even lovelier in person! @mywaysthehighway took the pics (and my heart lol 🩷) he/they

[eve-was-framed]

okay this is gonna be a bit of a long rant (with some SA and CSA mentions so pls don’t read if that will be too much for you rn) but I��ve been thinking a lot about the “male loneliness epidemic” lately and I have some Thoughts ™

we live in very isolating, depressing and scary times. we live in a hyper-individualistic capitalist hellscape that seems to punish people who need community support. and I truly believe that we as humans should try to help each other out in the ways that we are able to.

but I lose 100% of my empathy for lonely depressed men when they start using their own personal issues as an excuse to peddle ideologies that advocate for rape, pedophilia, child marriage, sexual slavery, and even murder of women and girls. I don’t fucking care how sad you are, if you advocate for other humans beings to be subjected to the cruelest treatment possible then you either need to get serious help or die (and not take anyone with you when you do).

you do not have a fucking paramount on suffering. you are not the only ones who experience loneliness. I know you think women get to just pick and choose whichever romantic partner/friends we want, but that is false, and also being seen as nothing but a sex object by men is so incredibly isolating too. that’s not real love and connection, that’s only being valued for what we can provide for men. so many people feel so alone and it genuinely is a big problem.

I was raised in an extremely misogynistic cult that preaches that grown men are not responsible for anything they do to little girls bc “they’re wired that way.” I had very bad things happen to me before I was even old enough to realize what it meant. and you know what the excuse always is? “well it happened to him when he was younger too so he can’t help that he does it to you.” I learned very early that male suffering is viewed as more important than the suffering they inflict on innocent people. and despite going through this, despite seeing nearly every woman in my life go through something similar, despite all of this, I still would never ever sympathize with any ideology that preaches rape, slavery, sex trafficking, pedophilia, white supremacy, etc. and that doesn’t make me some super hero, it makes me a mildly normal person.

so no, nobody “pushed” you into your evil ideologies, nobody made you do that. if true suffering at the hands of the opposite sex is really the root cause of inceldom then almost every single woman I know would be the most insane incel you’d ever meet in your entire life. but they’re not, even though many of them are lonely and long for true companionship, none of them feel so angry and entitled to it that they want to murder and rape men or little boys. not a single one. the root cause of inceldom is, and always has been, male entitlement. men who were raised to believe the world and every woman in it exists to serve them in some way, but then grew up and realized that actually nobody is owed sex and you don’t get to force women to marry you and have kids, because we are human beings who deserve to be happy too. and this makes them so mad that they start thinking it’s okay to do whatever they want to whoever they want, because after all, nobody on planet earth could ever suffer as much as incels do when a woman tells them no.

I’m fucking sick of it. stop saying “they pushed me to this” and start taking even an ounce of accountability for your deranged, entitled mindset.

[sgojoenthusiast]

hi guys!! i need some help. if you read all this yap i love you.

i haven’t posted anything in a while bc i’ve been really struggling w my sexuality. this is going to come as an absolute shock if you follow me, but for the past year or so i’ve identified as a lesbian. however i am one of those lesbians who would kill for any of my pretty little princesses (my big, buff, 6’0 fictional men) and i absolutely LOVE to write fan fiction for them - which is somewhat apart of the problem.

i cant actually picture myself doing any of these things with a real life man but i also can't picture myself doing anything with a woman either. it's not that i don't like the idea i just can't physically see myself doing any of it and atp i can't really see myself in a relationship at all.

this whole thing started about a month ago, where i was introduced to another girl. the first night we met, we did stuff together (not rllt much) but i did feel a little pressured into it. the entire time i was just thinking 'when is this going to end' but not because it didn't feel good. we've been talking a lot (long distance) and she likes the same things i like (which is difficult for me to find) and she's kind and funny but i just can't seem to like her in that way. i've never liked any woman to the point where i can call it love so i feel like i can't call myself a lesbian even though i've never felt that way for a man either, but then again i don't really speak to many men outside of my family/gay friends.

i can see myself married to a woman more than i can see myself married to a man. i find men attractive and i find women attractive but i can't tell if i'm attracted to them, and seeing my lesbian friends with their girlfriends makes me so jealous because i want that i just don't know if i'm capable of feeling such strong feelings.

i've already decided that i'll talk to the girl from earlier about this once i've gathered the courage because i know it's unfair for me to string her along when i'm so unsure at the minute because clearly i'm unready for a relationship. like at one point my friend thought she was talking to another girl and if anything i just felt relieved.

on the topic of fan fiction, i know and understand that it is completely different from real life s3x & that it sets an unrealistic standard for these kinds of things which is why i love to write it. i love writing about that kind of connection and visioning a world with a love like that even if i do write it about men a lot. but when i take into account the real world and real men i'm completely uninterested and can only see that world with a woman but then i don't really ever write about women.

i love the idea of love and falling in love and i don't know what i'd do without it but then there's a part of me that thinks that i could be aroace because i can't seem to feel any of these feelings.

anyway, all this has stemmed from one girl and i can't tell if its just another failed attempt at a relationship or whether i'm not really a lesbian.

thank you for anyone taking the time to read this i appreciate it and would love for some advice. i know labels aren't important but in a community so divided as this one i feel like i need a space where i can feel more comfortable and with people like me.

[player1064]

kate for someone reason thinking jamie is homophobic not sure why or how but she does (sara has me obsessed with the idea that they can’t stand each other now lol) and then him introducing her to gary and she’s like 🤯 ft. micah in the corner like you didn’t know he never shuts up about him???

god Kate and Jamie literally CANNOT STAND EACH OTHER!!! I'm OBSESSED with that dynamic tbh!!!!!!! As always. this one is much longer than intended...

Also, don't need to have read it but this is technically intended to tie in to my fic Happy wife, happy life (but tldr Jamie regularly calls Gary his wife partly to keep their relationship under wraps but mostly bc. he finds it funny to call Gary his wife.)

---

“Obviously we’re done for the season right before pride month kicks off,” one of the CBS producers is saying, eyes darting over something on an iPad. “And since you four have been pretty popular we were thinking of including you in some of those ad campaigns, so if I could just get some dates off of all of you –”

“No,” Jamie says immediately.

All three of his colleagues snap their heads up to him, but only Kate looks at him coolly and says “no?”

Micah, because he’s Micah, chuckles and slaps Jamie in the shoulder, trying to diffuse some of the new tension in the air. “Not like you to turn down extra cash, Carra.”

Jamie rolls his eyes, pretends not to notice the way Kate’s eyes are burning into him. “Check my contract. Wish I could, honest,” he says to the producer, feeling very very glad that he had a clause added to his contract specifically so that he doesn’t have to take part in things like this, “But it just wouldn’t be do-able. You lot ‘ave fun, though, with yer rainbows and yer glitter.”

Kate just looks at him incredulously. “This is one thing you decide to take a stand on, mister ‘I don’t care about politics’?”

Rainbows just don’t really suit Jamie, is the thing. Nor does the extra scrutiny that comes from wearing rainbows.

Doesn’t really matter to him what Kate thinks of him, though, so he just shrugs and continues packing up his stuff for the day.

*

“Jamie – Jamie, I finally got onto Raya, can you have a look at my profile?”

Jamie looks up at Micah with a frown. “What the fuck is a Raya?”

“It’s a dating app,” Kate says from her end of the desk, in that unimpressed tone of hers that makes Jamie wonder why she’s bothering to insert herself into the conversation at all.

“An exclusive dating app,” Micah corrects, wiggling his phone in front of Jamie.

“Weren’t you already seeing someone?” asks Jamie, but he accepts the phone with a sigh and puts his glasses on. “I don’t – I’ve never used one of these things, what am I meant to be lookin’ at?”

Micah shrugs. “Didn’t work out,” he says breezily. “How have you never used a dating app, you’ve not been married that long. And look at yourself, you can’t tell me you weren’t a player before Mrs Carra came along.”

Jamie had got around a bit, in his playing days. Not much, mind, because he’d had to be careful, but he’d done alright. Unfortunately – and this is not something he’ll ever admit to anyone, even under duress – any thoughts of that had gone out the window the moment he’d walked onto the Sky campus after retiring.

“You’re right,” he says with a wink, “look at me. As if I’d need an app to find myself a bird. Why’d you want me to look at this, I’m not exactly your target audience. ‘less there’s somethin’ you’re not tellin’ us,” he adds, elbowing Micah and waggling his eyebrows.

Kate looks on unimpressed as the two of them double over in laughter. “Not that any of us would have a problem if you were, right Jamie?” she says haughtily.

Jamie catches Micah’s eye and has to fight back another bout of laughter. “Dunno,” he says, “I can think of one or two problems I’d ‘ave if Big Meeks here suddenly tried hittin’ on me.”

Micah bursts out laughing again, his hand clapping to Jamie’s forearm, and Jamie can’t help but join in – it’s infectious, okay?

“God,” Micah says, wiping a tear from his eye, “can you imagine how your missus would react. I’d never be able to work in television again.”

“Nah, she’d prob’ly send you a fruit basket, thank you for taking me off ‘er hands.”

Kate clears her throat and the two of them sober immediately at the sight of her raised eyebrow. “Maybe cool it with the outdated banter,” she says, “or do I need to remind you boys that you’re not in a dressing room anymore?”

She storms off, he heels click-clicking away as Jamie and Micah look at each other and try (and fail) not to start laughing again.  

*

“You didn’t want to bring your wife to the end of season party, then?” Kate asks politely, looking slowly around the room.

“Huh?” Jamie says eloquently, because he’s had a couple of glasses of prosecco and he’s not thinking as quickly as he usually might. “Oh, the missus. Yeah, she’s here but  – I dunno, she’s a bit shy, like. You didn’t invite Malik?”

Kate rolls her eyes, the way she always does when Jamie mentions her boyfriend. “Well, he lives in America. So.”

“Carra,” an annoying voice calls from just behind him, “Carra, come over ‘n meet Schmeichel? I’ve not seen ‘im in years, d’you know, I think I’d forgot how tall he was.”

Jamie puts a hand on the small of Gary’s back to keep him from bouncing around too much (the man is such a lightweight, it’s embarrassing), and says “I’ve already met Peter, you dolt. I work with ‘im, remember?”

Gary squints at him for a second. “You drag me all the way down to London, and then y’can’t even be bothered to –” he finally seems to realise that Jamie had been talking to someone, because he quickly shakes his head around a bit and holds a hand out to Kate with a smile. “You’re Kate, right? I love what you do on the show, honest, I’m always sayin’ people need to be meaner to James here.”

Jamie thinks he sees Kate blush a bit, like she hadn’t realised anyone else had noticed her dislike of Jamie, but she takes Gary’s offered hand anyway. “And of course you’re the famous Gary Neville, I’ve heard a lot about you,” she greets. “But aren't you still with Sky? What brings you to our little operation here?”

“Scopin’ out the competition,” he says with a wink, then turns back to Jamie. “Carra – Peter?”

“I said no! I’ll talk to him later, stop badgerin’ me.”

“Did you two travel down from Manchester together?” asks Kate, “You know, Jamie seems so invested in my relationship but none of us have ever met his wife, do you know where she’s got to?”

“Ah, his fuckin’ wife,” Gary mutters, smirking up at Jamie. Jamie winks in reply and slips his hand down a bit to pinch him on the arse.

Micah comes over, his tuxedo strained against his biceps, and he pulls Gary away from Jamie to throw an arm around his shoulder in a half-hug.

(Gary squirms a bit at the unexpected contact, but he still gives Micah a friendly pat on the chest.)

“Big Nev! It’s been ages, man – Jamie told us you were coming, but he’s promised that before and not delivered.”

“Been pretty busy, up in Manchester,” Gary says with a shrug, carefully extracting himself from under Micah’s arm and returning to Jamie’s side. “But I’m obliged to do the plus one thing at least two –” (“Three,” Jamie corrects,) “—fine, three times a year, and I figure there’re worse places to be.”

“Aw, you love it really,” Micah says. “I’ve always kind of wondered what it’s like to be a WAG.”

Gary rolls his eyes. “It’s a thankless job, to be fair.” He pokes Jamie in the bicep and adds “I’m going back to talk t' Peter, you miserable old twat. Honest, I’m always talkin' to Scousers fer you.”

“I already know –” Jamie starts to protest, but Gary’s already wandered off. “Ugh. Sorry about ‘im. You can’t take Mancs anywhere, can ya?”

The two Mancs he’s talking to look at him, unimpressed.

“He seemed nice,” Kate says carefully.

“He’s not,” Jamie replies.

*

“Good summer?” Micah asks, their first show back after the break.

“Brilliant,” Jamie replies with a grin. “It were my turn to choose the destination, so –”

“Ibiza?”

He nods. “Ibiza. The house was done just in time, too.”

“You know, I can’t really imagine Gary in Ibiza.”

“Oh, he hates it. Complained the whole time, but he does that wherever we go.”

He becomes aware that Kate is watching them from across the desk, not trying to hide that she’s listening to their conversation with curiosity. Jamie nods to her, all polite like. “Hows about you, Kate, good summer?”

“It was fine, I –” she shakes her head. “Sorry, you’re saying you go on holiday with Gary Neville?”

Micah scoffs. “Who else would he go with?” he asks, and Jamie points to him in agreement.

“I dunno, his wife?”

Jamie blinks.

He thought he’d got all this out the way, dragging Gary along to the party a couple of months ago. Apparently not.

“Gary is my wife,” he says, then suddenly feels very stupid saying that to someone who’s not already in on the joke, so he corrects to “my husband, I mean. Obviously he’s not – he’s a man. Obviously.”

Kate’s eyes are wide, unblinking. She looks between Jamie and Micah, lips pressed together while her brain seems to be buffering.

“You’re married to a man?” she says eventually. “But you’re not gay, I mean – you’re –”

Jamie, who last time he checked definitely was gay, raises an eyebrow, amused. “I’m what?”

“You’re a footballer,” she attempts, and oh, this is far too easy.

“Bit ‘omophobic, that, sayin’ footballers can’t be gay,” he replies, holding back a smirk.

“Oh shut up, you know what I – you’re a lad! You’re always with the banter, and the…”

Thierry wanders over, freshly brewed cup of tea in hand. “What have you two done this time?” he asks, looking pointedly at Jamie and Micah.

Jamie raises his hands to protest his innocence.

“Thierry,” Kate asks, reaching a hand out towards him, “did you know Jamie’s married to a man?”

Thierry rolls his eyes. “Ugh, fucking Neville,” he replies, and goes to sit down.

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

COWARD LIAR BULLY

-Violet von Westenholz

-The Marquess Marchioness of Cholmondeley

A bully cannot face the people she hurt & abused. In Meghan's case, we watched her mistreat the family she never had, royal staffers and ordinary British people. A friend's parent from her childhood said "she has sharp elbows" and we watched her elbow her way through the United Kingdom just long enough to become infamous. A smash and grab operation that makes her no better than the radicalized teenagers who are being used to terrorize America's cities.

She suffers from a severe case of Princess Catherine Derangement Disorder. Watching the Prince and Princess of Wales receive the honor they are due while she and H are boo'd by thousands would be almost unbearablw and in her best victim voice "such a cruel chapter."

I'm reminded of the MM who after oyw invitations and various product marketing opportunities, was such an ungrateful witch that she even refused to make eye contact in a very small cafe with the woman who made it all possible, Gina Nelthorpe Cowne.

If she were to attend the Coronation, we can just imagine her seething through that rictus grin while watching (from the nosebleed section of the Abbey) as two (2) of the honorable families she betrayed are rewarded for their loyalty and friendship.

1st-Violet von Westenholz, daughter of Camilla's longtime friend and newly appointed "Companion." Despite meeting Harry through Soho House & Markus Anderson, Meghan pursued Violet for an RL "modeling" opportunity at Wimbledon bc she needed to manipulate Violet into serving as her reputable "matchmaker." During the engagement interview Meghan lied again: "SHE (violet) said SHE wanted to set us up"🙄

2nd- The Marquess & Marchioness of Cholmondeley, parents of Charles' Godson Oliver, page of honour & Lord in Waiting.

Meghan planted the fake affair rumor into the suckit squad to hurt William & Catherine's reputation and to pay back the BRF for the envy she felt watching Harry escort Rose at a formal event. She intentionally tried to destroy 2 families with lies & innuendo. On twatter, via her aliases, mm would threaten William with more malicious attacks on Kate if they still refused to support her in the press. These are just a few of her schemes so just imagine what must be written in the bullying report.

During the engagement, household servants would overhear things and report them back to "R." I certainly sensed mm was a mean girl, but thought there was no way she could be so vile. 5+ years later, it was all true and the worst was yet to come.

Although Meghan ignored Gina in Edinburgh, Gina still gave a classy interview on the day of the wedding, and I believe she watched as Meghan & Harry drove around Windsor.

"The Telegraph today reported claims members of the palace PR team "body blocked" ex-advisor Gina Nelthorpe-Cowne from coming into contact with Meghan during a visit to the Social Bites cafe in Edinburgh. Instead, Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne posted a photograph of her former friend on social media from yards away."

Imagine how Gina must have felt after everything she did for that girl mm refused to even say hello.

"A former aide today told the paper: "Anyone from the past was a problem." They added: "Meghan likes to move on". When contacted by The Telegraph, Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne declined to comment on the incident.However, she has previously spoken of her declining friendship with the duchess after she married Prince Harry.Writing for the Mail on Sunday in 2020, Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne wrote: "When, recently, I found myself in the same room as her, she pretended not to notice – stage-managing it so that Harry spoke to me instead.Meghan has made a habit of 'moving on' to better things. And I doubt that will ever change."She also claimed she had warned Meghan, 39, of what life would be like married to a Royal but said the future duchess replied "Save it" with a "steely manner".Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne's name has also previously appeared in court documents - accusing Meghan's friend Jessica Mulroney of "putting pressure on her to withdraw or change statements" she made in an April 2018 interview with the Mail on Sunday."

February 13th

"The couple meet with staff at Social Bite a business that runs social enterprise cafés throughout Scotland, distributing 100,000 items of food and hot drinks to homeless people each year. The business also employs staff who have experienced homelessness themselves.The couple take a tour of the cafe kitchen."

"The final straw was when MM blanked her in Edinburgh, which was a public humiliation and a bridge too far. The KP staff & Harry body blocked Gina from greeting mm. Meghan then used Mulroney to bully Gina into withdrawing her story in the paper. Adrian Sington bore the brunt of a two-hour haranguing from Jessica Mulroney, which he later described as being very unpleasant."

Lady Elizabeth Lambart, was one of the late Queen's bridesmaids at her 1947 weddingLord Oliver Cholmondeley, 13, son of David, the Marquess of Cholmondeley, and his former model wife, Rose, will also be a page of honour. 

Oliver’s father was recently appointed to be the King’s Lord-in-Waiting – a significant royal role in which he will be invited to attend important state and royal occasions. 

In 1974, the Marquess of Cholmondeley, as Earl of Rocksavage, was page of honour to the late Queen, before becoming Lord Great Chamberlain from 1990 to 2022.

Meanwhile, the Marchioness of Cholmondeley's maternal grandmother, the late Lady Elizabeth Lambart, was one of the late Queen's bridesmaids at her 1947 wedding.

The family - which also includes Lord Oliver's twin brother, Alexander, Earl of Rocksavage, and his younger sister, Lady Iris - live at Houghton Hall in Norfolk, which is just four miles from Anmer Hall, their friends', the Prince and Princess of Wales's, country retreat.

Despite the nasty rumors, The Cambridges attended church with the Cholmondeley family.

Her so-called matchmaker "friend" didn't attend the wedding.🤔

[lindszeppelin]

okay so yesterday the twitter hive got into a frenzy over V posting *checks notes* ...for posting.... *double checks notes from confusion* .....darla the dog that Austin left with her when he went to go film for Elvis.

no but fr they're heated over it. they are also assuming she was shading him with a post she reposted to her story about not giving things energy but like..that literally could be nothing but a regular post. ppl were saying things like "she never deserved him" and just really being whiny little bitches about it. personally, i don't really like V but saying something like that about a relationship you weren't in and know actually nothing about is wild, no!? it's giving unhealthy levels of parasocial relationship. they don't even like her— how did anyone see her STORY? when i thought to try and offer a different perspective i just figured it was for nought bc it doesn't seem like any of them would listen to reason. i don't give a shit she still has the dog...clearly he doesn't care. shouldn't they be more mad at that then anything? "it was his MOTHERS dog!!1!!11" yeah and they were together for a decade, i'm sure he just thinks Darla was in better hands with V🤷🏽‍♀️, especially once he started doing the press tour/award campaign run for Elvis–he was barely home ever! i don't get the anger, it's petty and misplaced and immature and (maybe even naive?) to think she's(V) evil or some sort of horrible person for this one act. let me reiterate: they were together for a decade!!! im sure after his mother passed they took care of the dog together for the majority of their relationship so in my eyes, Darla is as every bit Austin's as she is V's.

and it's very obvious they are ASSUMING she was shading him rather than idk looking the other way(or never looking in her direction in the first place bc they do not like her anyway so why disrupt your own peace and happiness for THIS?) and pretending like she doesn't exist. or simply being levelheaded and logically thinking. i have to routinely pull myself back farther away from fandoms in general bc honestly i've never really been too deep into them for this exact reason— ppl just get a tad bit too creepy and weird for me. and this moment is making me wanna leave entirely..it's almost making want to like her again too out of spite for those ppl(almost, babes, almost lmao). it's just...icky to me is all. anyway, all this to say: thoughts? lol.

i don't like vanessa for many reasons, but the shippers will always think that she's shading him for no reason. this bitch is married, like...she has MOVED ON from austin in all kinds of regards. and like i said before, people will interpret things in their own personal way and that can be a curse. from my perspective, that quote vanessa shared TO ME read as "okay guys hang it up, i have moved on and everything is okay. let's just move on from this narrative".

also idk about the discourse surrounding darla and stuff but listen, if austin was perfectly fine leaving darla with vanessa after all this time then cool. he trusts her with his mother's dog. i mean clearly vanessa loves darla and i see the pics she posts with darla. cole seems to be a good surrogate dog dad to darla too from what i can tell. so...there is no problem here.

[chevvy-yates]

From the OC ask game for all of your boys: 11 and, for Ryder specifically (I'm not playing favourites ssshhhh): 33, 34, 35?

11. what do they have in common with you? how are they different? would you get along with them?

Oh boy … what a question Dx I'll try to hold it short:

Vijay:

In Common: huge love for sea animals since we were kids, 80s, retro fashion, ginger hair (mine is colored tho as I'm naturally brown), overthinking and problems to find sleep at night as thoughts run around in our minds constantly, on constant low energy as overworking outselves is 'daily life', undecided about everything (we always want to be Switzerland) different: smokes, his character is the opposite of mine as he's outgoing, loves to be around people. He always needs some affection/love or he will feel alone, he is good with computers/mathematics, understands the feelings of others very well, knows how to pep talk We would get along but not be besties. He would definitely call me often, try to lure me out of my cave to have some fun. I'd go but maybe I'll be exhausted. cannot do it everyday as Vijay knows too many people in the city. I would go nuts to know that many and have to talk so much. Though, he too has days he needs a bit lone time to load his battery due to the overworking habit.

Ryder:

In Common: being German and Hessian, all things black, definitely the perfectionism, some ocpd tendencies (his are heavier than mine tho), fast to get aggressive about the tiniest things (day is done then), not keen to start a conversation with anyone from our side, the judging gaze, always right and others are wrong, love for hard beats (techno, dark wave, industrial), only wanting to be around people when on a (rave) event/party, introvert acting extrovert in certain situations, low self-esteem (that got better with years of maturity, but can break), don't like to be really spontaneous (needs to be planned at least 2 days prior), dislike when someone is too late for a meeting, small circle of friends, problems to articulate how we feel, everything pistaccio, popsicles and lollipops, love to take pictures in cool outfits but hate when someone takes pictures in private, high interest in military and space. different: chain-smoker, relationsship with his family is bad (mine is not), heavy mobbing in the past happened to him (i got mobbed as well but for being different as I was allowed to dress like I've wanted - Ryder not, he was mobbed for being not good enough), when he works he is super focused (I'm not) as Beast steers him, he is probably funnier than I am and more outgoing too (again this is Beast's influence as well as 'real Ryder' used to be a shy introverted boy who spent time only with a small circle of friends), does lots of sport I think we would definitely love hate each other as we are very similar. xD As you can see Ry and I share the most in common, he is sort of a self insert but not a full one. Idk if I could be with him 24/7 but we would definitely get along and be somewhat close to besties. I never told it but he likes Hizumi very much as Hizumi is similar like him (and Hizumi is technially me). I bet he would drag me out more often as I spent too much time at home alone and I'd be the one who gives him a pep talk when he feels down – at least as good as i am able to bc, feelings and understanding them are ugh.

Thyjs:

In common: Military clothings (olive, camo – I dig this so much), only talks when addressed, love for classical art (impressionism) and music. 60s/70s Rock('n'Roll), drinks alcohol only when going out, love for thunderstorms, bicycling/mountainbiking different: smokes, has ptsd and emotional numbing, knows what he wants, strong personality type, family bound (would even marry and have children, I do not) We would get along, but I'd have super huge respect towards him but appreciate his silent presence the most.

Jaysen:

in common: doesn't smoke and never ever tried it out, taste for cool cars and all things cowboys, rowdyness (i may not be as rebelious as he is but I rebel against certain things and u can't change my mind), different: all what his brother above is plus careless what others think of him We would get along but I would have a hard time to have him around as he's so energetic in contrast of his lil brother xD.

Hizumi:

In common: nonbinary, doesn't smoke, has my face, fashion style (a mix of visual kei, japanese fashion (e.g. sexpot revenge), 80s, loneliness, lazyness, loves to fly (airplane travel), interest for mysticism (yokai) different: can't think of anything as I haven't developed them much but I'm sure there are some as well. Hizumi sadly is the least developed as I do not have them as pixels yet and I tend to ignore my 'cospaly pics' always.

So, Ryder is your fav u wanna tell me? :P

33. if applicable, how would your other characters describe them? i mean specifically the people around them.

Vijay: "Ryder's a complicated dude, but a real lovely one. You can't hate him, even if you wished for it. Yes, he's got problems with his tonality an' is easy to erupt. If you only get to know him superficially you may not like him. It's not easy to become his choom, but if you are allowed to be — bro, he's the best choom you can have. Never met one as loyal as Ryder — at least not before meeting Thyjs — Ry's like that lil' pup phenomenon; the stray black lil' doggo you found wandering aimlessly in the streets and picked up to bring home with you. Result is a super loyal strong watchdog who will be alerted immediately once someone approaches. I can say of my own experience that he's extremely protective if you happen to be in his rather small friend circle. He will do anything to protect you from the bad. He's a good boy and therefore my best friend forever."

Thyjs: “I didn’t know what to think of him in the first place. He talked to me with such an arrogant tone, on top in German. Ik was totaal geïrriteerd. Unsure if I would like him. He's got quite some personality. But knowing him better now, I see who he truly is and when it is the ‘other Ryder’ coming through. There is something about him I did like from the very first moment: his honesty and straightforwardness and his strong will to withstand the pain he endures every day. I can only imagine how he must feel. So I decided to give him a chance. En ik ben eerlijk — he's one of the kindest people I’ve met. Ry willed to show me the city — he hardly knew me. He decided to trust me even though I served those who he despises most. He offered me to stay at his place, as I had none, until I made some eddies for an apartment. I enjoyed spending time with him more and more. He made me put down my strict soldier shell I usually keep up, allowing me to appreciate the more casual life now as I cannot pick up my soldier career anymore. Thanks to him I’m a little more of an outgoing person now too I guess. Ryder saved my life! I owe him my protection and he magically made me fall in love with him. It was the least I expected to happen. He helps me explore my own feelings as I struggle with emotional numbing even though he has a hard time to express himself either. In private he's the loveliest and most caring man I've ever met. You can only fall in love with him."

34. how would your character describe themselves? it doesn't have to line up with how they really are.

answered here.

35. do they ever return home?

Ryder often thought about going back home to Germany but he never did as the thought of making Night City a better place kept him here. Also he feels bound to the city as long as Beast has control over him. The fun fact is, if he would leave NC and a certain area, Beast would lose control over him as it is bound to Night Cities net only and he would be free, but he doesn't know that. It would be so easy. But Beast keeps him in his place. Thinking about it now I can imagine him and Thyjs going on a vacation back to Germany just somewhere into the forest. Can only be after their big story event because his father needs to be thrown from the Militech throne first (idk if he will stay alive or not) to make it happen, as Beast needs to be gone too. But if he goes back home (near Frankfurt am Main) he will do it with Thyjs. He will show him his favorite places he's been to and shamelessly utilize his families properties that are located in many places of Germany. A luxury wooden lodge in the Blackwood Forest to spend summer or winter vacation in. The Scharfenberg Isle at the Lake Tegel in Berlin would also be a nice place to visit as the family own a little summer house on the isle where Ryder learned to swim as a young boy. And of course he would bring Thyjs to the old tarmac at Tempelhof Park! The Scharfenberg Castle (Palatinate) would be visited as well – though it's just a ruin today but tied to his family crest as he's a descendant of Carl III of Scharfenberg. As well as Schloss Wanfried in Nord Hesse. These are all places tied to good memories of his rather bad childhood and places can the least for his family's toxic behavior. Thyjs is interested in history and wants to know where Ryder grew up so I imagine they would definitely visit some of those places and stay there for a while. I also hc right now that Ryder gets the idea to drive over to the Netherlands, give Thyjs the option to see his mother again. But this all can only happen a few years after the story events of course as Militech would get suspicious even though Thjys has a different ID now with a new last name. Ryder would even let his mother drive in to on of the places in Germany if he gets out any info about her (I bet Vijay and Jay would be glad to help out).

okay turned out to be longer than I intended :,D

[wutheringwaters]

Firstly, I would like to say that everything you write I absolutely love so when I first came across this trope, neighbors and older harry, I knew instantly this was going to be a fav. I’ve been meaning to reblog each chapter with every thought process I had for awhile now. I’ve read up to chapter 3 before and have a lot of catching up to do! So here goes and prepare for a spam of all your writing:

“He became the eye candy of your neighbourhood very quickly, and he had no problem accepting all the baked goods and warm welcomes all the single and married women of the street delivered” The way I can envision this and the previous beginning paragraphs, it’s like straight out of a movie scene! I loooove your detailed writing!!

“and he’d bid you a good morning with that classic smirk of his” I would never be one to jog in the morning, but I would be a fucking athlete if it meant passing him along the way 🫡

“it didn't matter what night it occurred, or if you had plans, because the second you were invited you were changing your entire life to make sure you could stay back and eat with him.” SO REAL. SO ME. MOST ACCURATE REPRESENTATION.

HER FANTASY BEFORE HER CAME HOME 🤭THE FUCKING ST LAURENT SUIT WILL FOREVER KEEP ME IN A CHOKEHOLD!!! GIRLIE I GET IT TOO!! ITS A PIECE OF WALKING ART!!!!

“Harry didn't care one bit that Archie was jumping all over him and possibly ruining his St. Laurent suit, the very same suit you were just fantasising about.” no bc this is just so attractive, how can one not swoon?? him and archies interactions >>>

and i know it’s been confirmed that archie is a golden retriever and it’s so perfect bc i remember the first time reading rich that’s all I imagined him as.

“as he returned to his towering height over you.” say less 🧎🏽‍♀️ tall men>>>> but specifically and especially harry >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Call it an unhealthy obsession, or pure lust over someone too young for him. Either way, Harry needed to see you daily to be satisfied. He could never find anyone that turned him on like you did” IM ABSOLUTELY LOVING THISSSSSS FEED ME MORE

“Harry took a step towards you and tilted your head up by your chin, so you were forced to look at him. His touch was so light and gentle”SPIRALING ALREADY 😵‍💫 THIS GETS ME EVERY TIME 😵‍💫

"Good, that's what I like to hear" He grinned, his thumb brushing against your lower lip ever so gently.” You’re coming for my life atp.

“and you were so nervous all you could do was nod. "Good girl. You're always so helpful, y'know that?" the praise is going straight to my head and to my 🤸🏽‍♀️ praise, praise, praise, oh how I love you.

“You tried to ignore the throbbing between your legs as you set the table” me too bestie, this isn’t for the weak

“He was just so… pretty, and he had such a way with words you felt drawn in the more he spoke.” This is such an accurate description, like he’s just so magnetizing?? ugh fucking harry bro

“Good girl. You’re too good for some college fuck boy, anyway. I’ve had my time in college and trust me, they’re all dickheads. Can barely find the clit, half of them” he scoffed” OK BUT HES SO FORWARD AND ITS SO HOT. AND THE FACT THAT HE DIDNT LIKE THE IDEA OF HER WITH SOMEONE ELSE AND ITS PISSING HIM OFF?? HOT.

“Who should I go for then? Someone like you?” OH SHES BOLD BOLD NOW!!

“Harry gripped your chin and turned your face to force your gaze on him. "What's the matter, love? You get nervous when I look at you like this?" he smirked, tracing his thumb along your bottom lip to pull it out from your teeth.” SHUT THE FUCK UP HES A MENACE I SWEAR. I WANT THIS TATTED ON MY FOREHEAD PLS.

“Ah”, he tutted “too bad you’ve had too much to drink” he sighed out in disappointment and let go of your face leaning back into his chair with a triumphant smirk on his face.” something about his smugness and teasing, can put anyone on their knees

“You know what... you want me to fuck you? Prove it” this is where my slut era would begin. any feminism would leave my soul, mind, and body. I cook, clean, and serve this man right here!

“Harry sat there relaxed and with no readable expression on his face, his arms wide on the back of the couch.” MANSPREADING ON THE COUCH?? DECEASED.

“you placed a hand on each of his thighs and used them for balance to get on your knees between his legs” The way the first thing she does is get on her knees. She’s so real for this. I would’ve been on my knees for this man instantly!! Most realistic thing ever 🧎🏽‍♀️

“You wanna suck my cock?” He cooed, tucking a piece of hair behind your head before caressing the side of your face and tipping your chin up.”Everything he says causes my heart to spasm. Going into respiratory shock but first and most importantly, I volunteer as tribute next!!! YES SIR I DO SIGN ME UP!!!

“He tried to watch you, because he had imagined the sight of you on your knees before him dozens of times and wanted to take in every detail for the next time he jerked off to you” I love the fact that he’s just as attracted to her as she is to him yet he’s acting oblivious to it. This scratches the itch in my brain. I’m truly truly loving this.

“He caressed your face and collected the come that landed on your cheeks and forehead on two fingers before smearing it over your lips. He rubbed it along your tongue, where his come was still sitting next, painting your entire tongue with it. “Swallow.” THIS NEEDS TO BE TATTED TOO. HANDS DOWN ONE OF MY FAV FUCKING PARTS. IM JUST SCREAMING CRYING DYING

“this all mine? Would let me do anything wouldn’t you?” He teased” You’re inside my mind I swear.

“and fuck maybe someday I will. But for tonight I’m gonna use a condom, alright?” wasn’t this just mr. one night stand only 🤪

“But you... he missed looking at your face”YUUUUPP HES FALLING THIS IS MORE THAN JUST PLEASURE BABY

“you covered his hand with your own and pressed it harder against your neck to force him to squeeze harder. You loved being choked, and you had fantasized about Harry doing it to you for years.” GET OUT OF MY HEAD 🫡 NEED THIS MAN TO ASPHYXIATE ME PLEASEEEEE

"I lost you there for a second, love. Thought you might need a break or some water before we do anything else" he replied with a soft smile” OH I NEED HIM BAD!! SOMEONE SEND ME A PURCHASE LINK ASAP. WTF HES SO SOFT CARING DOM POSSESSIVE SMUG EGOTISTICAL RESERVED AND NONCOMMITTAL YET OPPOSITE OF WHAT HE CLAIMS TO BE/WANT. I CAN FIX HIM YOUR HONOR LET ME BE BOB THE BUILDER!!

“How about we forgo the walk and do breakfast instead before I have to leave for work? Means you can sleep in a little more” AND THATS IT! I WOULD BE FALLING FOR HIM AND PLANNING MY WEDDING.

Wow. That was 😵‍💫🔪🧎🏽‍♀️ This was everything I’ve ever needed and more. I knew from the very beginning this series was gonna take me by the throat but by all means it exceeded every expectation. The plot, character details, descriptions, smut, dialogue, everything makes it feel so real and it’s crafted together so perfectly. I’m so excited and nervous for what’s to come but right now i’m busily admiring your writing!! You instantly draw people in and have everyone fiending for more! You’re gifted, truly. There’s only one way to describe how im feeling right now.. and that’s amy adams.

Rich H.S

Summary: Neighbour/Older!Harry. A Summer dogsitting job for Mr. Styles is a dream come true for any broke uni student. He's rich, gorgeous and finally fucks you after your weekly dinner together. A continuation of this sneak peak and semi-based off this request.

warning: penetration, oral (m & f recieving), dirty talk (like to the MAX), choking, spanking, hair pulling, daddy kink (only a little)

word count: 11k+

author’s note: enjoy this v smutty one shot. This definitely has the potential of having a part two, so let me know if that's something you'd like to see. Happy Reading! *Rich is now a series! Follow along on my blog and at the masterlist*

- Find Series Masterlist Here -

- Find my General Masterlist here -

When Mr. Styles moved next door, it felt like every single one of your fantasies had come alive. He was tall, older, devilishly handsome, and rich. You weren't sure what he did for work exactly, all you knew was that it made him work until 8pm most nights and afforded him an $80,000 car.

You weren't the most materialistic person, but god the way he oozed wealth made you drip in your panties. His entire wardrobe consisted of Gucci and St. Laurent, and he had no problem showing off every expensive item he owned.

He had exceptional style; one you were severely jealous of. Every day he left his house in a jaw-dropping outfit that you frothed over. They were all tailored to perfection and showcased the perfect body you knew he had underneath.

He became the eye candy of your neighbourhood very quickly, and he had no problem accepting all the baked goods and warm welcomes all the single and married women of the street delivered. He was as flirty and charming as he was private and reserved.

When he wanted to, he could charm the underwear off someone, and you knew for a fact that he had. Your room was adjacent to his, and even though there was a distance between your houses, you could hear the sounds of pleasure coming from his room when his guest was exceptionally loud.

The walk of shame was your favourite though. At least once a week someone would be sneaking out early in the morning. You liked your early morning walks, especially since the sun rose so early now that it was Summer, so you always saw the red-faced woman leaving his house while you were getting ready.

He never walked them out, which you noticed straight away, although he did leave not long after for his own morning walk. You’d always bump into each other as your route seemed to be opposites and took you past each other’s houses, and he’d bid you a good morning with that classic smirk of his.

He could be private when he wanted to though, and in the three years he had lived next door to you he had only attended one neighbourhood event and that was only because it was a going-away BBQ for when you left for university. You were quite close to your neighbours, so at the end of each Summer they’d host a BBQ for when your new school year would start, and you’d be off for months.

Your parents were the type to become friends with everyone in the neighbourhood, and Harry Styles was no exception. They welcomed him on his first night in his house and your mum baked him a cake for the occasion.

A strong friendship didn't form exactly, since he didn’t really like being too close to his neighbours, but they were friendly enough for your parents to volunteer you to be his dog walker/sitter while you were back home for your Summer break. His dog Archie was way too active to be satisfied with the daily walk Harry provided and way too people loving to go all day without seeing another person.

Harry had managed so far with doggie day care’s and hiring professional dog walkers but when your parents suggested that you could take over while you were home, he jumped on the opportunity. Harry liked that Archie was able to be in his own space during the day, and he trusted that you'd look after him much better than some stranger.

You usually applied for Summer jobs and had one lined up ready for when you got home, so you weren't lying around doing nothing for weeks. This year you were too caught up in exams to organise something.

Taking care of an adorable puppy for an insanely hot rich guy who usually tipped you on top of what he was putting into your account weekly was the perfect gig. It was right next door, and Harry gave you free rein to take Archie anywhere. You the option of either hanging out with him at his house or bringing him to yours, but you usually went to Harry’s to get out of the house.

As long as he was fed and walked once a day, Harry was a lot more relaxed about the job than you thought he'd be. He had a lot of trust in you, and slowly but surely, you'd say you even became friends with him.

You usually hung out with Archie for the second half of the day. On the days you had plans you’d do something in the morning then walk him in the afternoon before spending the rest of the day with him. Harry had a pool so more often than not you used that daily to get some laps in and cool down.

Your routine would change depending on your plans, but you always made sure you were around for Harry to come home. Archie hated the dark, and while the sun was setting later since it was Summer, Harry still arrived home once it had set most nights. It was easy to fit in your day, especially since you were getting paid for it.

Most nights you'd have some quick small talk, check him out and fantasise about him when he wasn’t looking at you directly and you'd be on your way home. But some days he’d stop you during your morning walk and invite you to join him for dinner. He’d bring home takeaway and always shouted your meal which was a bonus.

It happened once a week, always on a different night. But it didn't matter what night it occurred, or if you had plans, because the second you were invited you were changing your entire life to make sure you could stay back and eat with him.

That man made you so ravenous you had never experienced hunger like you did over his cock. He hadn't fucked you, nor insinuated that he wanted to fuck you but that didn't stop you from thinking about it.

You thought about every position, every activity, every room, and flat surface in his house he could fuck you on. Hell, by now you had done so much snooping you knew his wardrobe like the back of your hand and had pictured every article of clothing on him and how he'd look in each one while he was hovered over you.

Your favourite fantasy was him wearing his classic black St. Laurent suit. He'd come home and bend you over the nearest surface, the arm of his couch, or the dining table and absolutely wreck your pussy. He'd be so riled up he wouldn't even remove the suit, simply undo his pants, and fuck all his anger out on you.

He'd have you crying and begging to come, his hand wrapped tightly around your neck while the other covered your mouth so your cries wouldn't alert the neighbours. He'd whisper the filthiest words in your mouth and fuck you so hard your legs shook with every-

Archie's loud barking interrupted your daydreaming, and he suddenly jumped off the couch where you two were relaxing and ran to the front door. You heard the beep of Harry's car locking a second later, prompting you to get up and open the door before he had to unlock it himself.

"Is your daddy home Archie? Is that your daddy?" you cooed to Archie as you opened the front door to find Harry standing there with his briefcase in one hand and a plastic bag of Chinese takeaway in the other. "Hey Harry, here, let me" you greeted, grabbing the bag from him as he walked in.

"Thanks, love" he winked, making you blush and avoid eye contact with him. "Hi Archie, how's my strong boy? You have a good day with y/n? I heard you swam in the pool" Harry cooed, putting his briefcase down without care and bending at the waist so he could give Archie belly scratches and kisses all over his head and snout.

Harry didn't care one bit that Archie was jumping all over him and possibly ruining his St. Laurent suit, the very same suit you were just fantasising about. Your mouth ran dry at the realisation, your face growing hotter at how inappropriate your thoughts had been.

You clutched onto the takeaway bag anxiously, praying he wouldn't see how flushed you were.

"How was he today y/n, was he a good boy? I hope the bath wasn't too much of a hass-" his words stopped when his attention switched from his baby to you, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of your red cheeks. "Are you alright, love? You look a bit flushed?" he stood up, his head cocking as he returned to his towering height over you.

You only blushed more at the attention and looked at the ceiling momentarily to try and calm down. His height was another thing you loved. He towered over you and made you feel so small you wanted to fall to your knees in front of him.

"I'm fine! Just... hungry!" you replied quickly, holding up the food to emphasise your lie.

He didn't seem to believe your lie but nodded slowly anyway before grabbing his briefcase off the floor. A small smirk played on his lips, but you were too mortified at how horny you were to even notice.

"Mhmm... I'm just going to have a quick shower, do you need to freshen up or anything?" he asked with a raised brow, trying to ignore the sight of your bare legs clenched together so tight he wanted to pry them open.

You had sent photos of Archie in the pool today, and it was clear that you had joined him. That wasn't anything new, and Harry always had spare towels in the pool house and welcomed you to freshen up there after you swam.

What was new though, was that you were clearly still in your bikini. The loose button-up shirt you wore was long enough to cover your bum but see-through, so your bright pink bikini showed through.

Harry was having a hard time hiding how fucking attracted he was to you, especially with how exposed your legs were and how he could basically see your bare skin through the white material of your shirt. His mind spiralled with the knowledge that you swam in his pool in the first place... your pretty, young body swimming around with barely anything on.

Having you in front of him though, all flushed over something that definitely wasn't hunger and with your bikini-clad body so accessible was a new level of arousal for Harry.

His attraction to you was selfishly the key reason he wanted to give you this job. He knew you'd take care of Archie and his well-being was Harry's main priority in his life. He had no wife or kids, and no partner to keep him company, so Archie was his family.

More importantly, though, you were something pretty to look at every day and something to fuel his arousal when he tugged on his cock each night or fucked some desperate housewife. Call it an unhealthy obsession, or pure lust over someone too young for him. Either way, Harry needed to see you daily to be satisfied.

He could never find anyone that turned him on like you did. Your pretty eyes, your soft hair, those legs of yours that Harry wanted to wrap around his head. You were the personification of lust, even if you never tried to seduce him or even flirt with him.

He knew you were attracted to him, your cute blush across your cheeks and the way he always caught you looking at him when he left for work were key signs of it. Every morning on your daily walk he'd catch you with your head turned back looking at him after he passed you, and you always blushed after being caught.

That blush of yours killed him.

You'd always find some excuse to see him on the weekends too, whether it be because you forgot something or just missed Archie. He didn't care, and he always welcomed you in and offered you a drink while you checked him out.

You thought you were being inconspicuous, but you were always looking at him, watching him like you wanted to devour him and Harry noticed every time. He was so close to just coming home one day and bringing you to his bedroom before you could even ask him how his day was, he could practically taste your pussy.

"Oh, no, I didn't actually swim today! This was more for tanning and a strategic outfit for Archie's bath" you laughed, your words coming out fast as you looked down at your feet. The thought that Harry actually noticed what you were wearing made your body heat up more, butterflies fluttering in your stomach like crazy.

You caught him looking at you before. He was anything but subtle when he checked someone out, and every morning on your walk he'd scan you head to toe before greeting you. It was exhilarating to have him notice you like that, and equally as nerve-wracking.

Harry took a step towards you and tilted your head up by your chin, so you were forced to look at him. His touch was so light and gentle you easily could've pushed against it, but he had never touched you before, and certainly not to force your eyes on him so you didn’t dare push him away.

"And did you get a nice tan?" his voice was low and almost teasing. You had never heard him sound like that before, especially around you.

"Uhm, y-yes... a little" you whispered, your brain all foggy from his touch on your chin.

You could barely process his words, let alone reply coherently. If it weren't for the Chinese takeaway bags keeping your bodies separate, Harry would've been brushing right up against you. His one finger was already making you shudder with need, if any more of him touched you every cell in your body would've been on fire.

"Good, that's what I like to hear" He grinned, his thumb brushing against your lower lip ever so gently.

Your breath hitched at the movement, and you resisted the urge to bring his thumb into your mouth. He had never been so forward with you like this before.

"Can you set the table? There's a bottle of white in the fridge so help yourself" his touch didn't disappear from your face, and you were so nervous all you could do was nod. "Good girl. You're always so helpful, y'know that?"

"Um, thank you" you managed to get out, your knees buckling at how he called you a 'good girl'. He was a flirty man, but he was laying it thick tonight and you couldn't help but get excited about the idea of actually fucking him.

"You're cute" he chuckled, tapping your mouth with his thumb before pulling away completely. "I won't be too long" he walked away without a second glance like he hadn't just called you a good girl and traced your lips with his finger.

"What the fuck was that, Archie?" you asked him. Archie barked at you with his tail still wagging before he trotted off to follow Harry upstairs.

You tried to ignore the throbbing between your legs as you set the table. Heading for the wine first, you found it easily and poured yourself a glass before you did anything else. You drank the glass quickly to try and get some liquid courage into you, anything to help you act some type of normal after Harry nearly made you cream yourself.

Harry had bought some rice and meet dishes, so you left those in their containers and grabbed some serving spoons before pouring another glass of wine for yourself and one for Harry, so the missing glass you had already wouldn’t be so noticeable from the bottle. He said you could help yourself, but you knew he didn’t mean down a glass in 10 seconds to get over your own horniness and nerves.

You weren’t a child anymore, and yet it felt like you had never talked to a man before in your life. You had a good relationship with Harry and had never been uncomfortable or awkward around him. But when he flirted with you like this, called you a good girl and had his gorgeous… long… thick fingers near your mouth, you couldn’t even string a sentence together.

“I see you found the wine” Harry announced his presence and made you jump slightly from your position at the table.

You had nearly finished your second glass (you couldn’t help yourself, really) and were texting a guy from one of your classes who wanted to see how your break had been so far. It was a friendly conversation, and one you were only having to pass the time while you waited for Harry to finish showering.

“Yeah, it’s good” you looked up from your phone and resisted the urge to drop your jaw.

Harry was freshly showered with his hair still damp and falling down his eyes in such a boyish way he almost looked your age. He had on a pair of black shorts, hung low on his hips, and decided to forgo a shirt.

You tried not to stare, you really did. But you found yourself scanning him from head to toe, your eyes lingering longer on his toned abs and his cock that was so prominent you wanted to lick it through his shorts.

“Very… very good” you trailed off before taking a sip of your wine and looking away, your face heating up at the smirk on his face. Wine made you tipsy fast, and you were already feeling the effects and speaking your thoughts out loud.

“I bought it in Italy” he slid into the chair next to you, completely ignoring the plate and cutlery you set up in the spot opposite you. “I found it in a small deli in Tivoli, the owner, Giovani, gave me a sample and I was hooked…” he grabbed those items and put them in front of him as he spoke, arranging the knife and fork onto the napkin like you had previously done. “I ordered a whole barrel and got it shipped back to London. Giovani was so happy he invited me to have a meal with his family. That was the best pesto pasta I have ever had in my life”

You were mesmerised as he spoke, sipping on your wine and eyeing his lips and the way he formed his words. He was just so… pretty, and he had such a way with words you felt drawn in the more he spoke.

“Have you ever been to Italy?” he asked, “want a bit of everything?” he continued, pausing with a spoon of rice over your plate.

“Yes please” you replied, taking another sip before responding. “I’ve never really been out of the country before. I’d love to see Italy though, everything about it just seems so… beautiful”

“Your parents never take you on family holidays?” he asked with a raised brow, plating some more food for you before he moved onto his own.

“Rarely, they didn’t really have money for holidays when I was growing up. Now they do and I’m an adult… well, I don’t really have the money to join them on their trips” you shrugged, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass.

He let out a little hum of acknowledgement, “Well, if you ever get the opportunity, I know you’d love it. The food is amazing, and a pretty thing like you would fit in perfectly with the beautiful scenery” he took a spoonful of food, his compliment coming out smooth and hitting you right in your stomach.

“Maybe once I finish my degree” you blushed, taking your own spoonful, and looking down at your lap. You hated how shy he made you. It was beyond irritating how you couldn’t even look him in the eye while he complimented you, or even looked at you in a certain way.

Conversation flowed for a while about his travels. You liked hearing him talk so you kept asking him questions about Italy and other places he had been to. It was going great, and you really enjoyed talking to him… well mostly listening anyway.

Every time he asked you a question, though, you’d clam up while he looked at you. When he spoke, he was so animated, a true storyteller, but when he was listening his entire focus was on you and it freaked you out. He’d keep his eyes on you the entire time, and he had this look on his face that made you drip between your thighs.

His finger kept tracing the rim of that damn wine glass of his and it was making you think ungodly thoughts. You couldn’t contain your blush and you kept fumbling with your words because of the attention he was giving you.

You were talking about something Archie did today, a safety topic instead of talking about yourself when your phone buzzed and interrupted your sentence. You quickly looked at it to see who it was from and saw that it was the same guy from your class. You decided to ignore it and continue talking until he texted you again. You turned your phone upside down this time so you wouldn’t have to look at it again and looked back to find Harry looking right at you with a furrowed expression, instead of his classic flirty smile.

“Everything okay?”

“Oh yeah, just some guy in my class texting me” you shrugged, looking down at your empty plate.

“Is this ‘guy’ your boyfriend?” he couldn’t help himself. He leaned back on his chair and looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

“No, definitely not. I don’t have a boyfriend”

“Good girl. You’re too good for some college fuck boy, anyway. I’ve had my time in college and trust me, they’re all dickheads. Can barely find the clit, half of them” he scoffed, taking a large swig of wine like the thought of you being with anyone else pissed him off.

Again, with the ‘good girl’. It made you want to drop to your knees and service him right under the table. The fact that he even said the word clit around you made you go absolutely feral, clenching your thighs to try and relieve some of the growing pressure between your legs.

You didn’t know whether it was the wine, or the fact that you had been so unbearably horny since before Harry got home, but you had this newfound confidence to say what you wanted. “Who should I go for then? Someone like you?”

It was definitely the wine.

The second the words left your mouth Harry’s head snapped to you and his pupils dilated just looking at you. It was like you throwing a somewhat flirty reply back to him provided some type of ammunition.

“Yes. Someone like me…” he trailed off, his eyes flicking between yours and your lips.

You bit down on your bottom lip subconsciously and avoided his gaze like you had been doing the entire night. Instead of letting it happen though, Harry gripped your chin and turned your face to force your gaze on him.

"What's the matter, love? You get nervous when I look at you like this?" he smirked, tracing his thumb along your bottom lip to pull it out from your teeth.

You let out a shuddered breath and leaned in closer to his touch, your eyes fluttering shut momentarily. “Yes. I’ve had too much wine and you make me nervous anyway, but now I’m like extra nervous” your words came out rushed and a little sloppy. You weren’t drunk, but you were definitely feeling the effects.

“hmm” he chuckled, cupping your jaw instead of your chin and moving your face around so he could get a good look at you “you’re so cute you know that, so… innocent… and yet I can’t stop thinking about bending you over this table and taking that innocence away from you”

You let out a little whimper, gripping onto the chair below you as you practically salivated at his words. Your eyes widened and now you definitely thought you were going to get fucked.

“We both know that’s a lie though, isn’t it. That you’re innocent?” He gripped your jaw harder this time and leaned in close while he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear with his other hand “you may think that I don’t know what goes through that pretty little head of yours, but I do. You want me to fuck you until you can’t walk anymore, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” He murmured.

Your mouth grew dry and you nodded, making a wide smirk grow on his face. “Ah”, he tutted “too bad you’ve had too much to drink” he sighed out in disappointment and let go of your face, leaning back into his chair with a triumphant smirk on his face.

“I-I haven’t” you sputtered out, way too eagerly. “I’m okay, promise”

It was annoying how fast wine hit you. If he gave you vodka you could’ve had five shots and been fine. Wine was never your choice of drink when you went out, so it went straight to your head.

If the wine you used to get over your nerves cockblocked you, you were never touching a drop of it again in your life. Especially since this cock belonged to a drop dead gorgeous, rich man who you knew would be the best dick you ever had.

He raised a brow and crossed his arms over his chest, poking his tongue into his cheek and looking you up and down in your chair. “How about we have some dessert then? And you stop drinking this” he moved your wine glass away from you, “then we’ll see how we go?”

“Okay”

The two of you cleaned up the table and dishes together while Harry jumped into another story, pretending like he hadn’t just talked about fucking you silly. It was a welcome distraction and gave you something to think about other than what just happened, but you could barely concentrate on what he was saying.

You were still unbearably wet between your thighs, and it was killing you. You knew if you put your fingers there, they’d be dripping. Fuck, at this point Harry could slip his cock right in you without any prep and it wouldn’t even hurt.

You would’ve loved the burn, anyway. Honesty, you hadn’t been fucked for a while and you craved the feeling of a big dick stretching you and making you ache, Harry’s big dick specifically.

“What are you thinking about, y/n?” Harry asked, scratching Archie’s ear and looking at you from his spot on the couch. He was sitting with his back against the arm rest, Archie laying between his legs with his chin on his thigh. You were sitting the same opposite him, your legs crossed in front of you.

“Nothing” you shrugged, biting down on your lip.

You couldn’t help but feel impatient now. He had been dragging it out since dinner, telling you all these stories, making you ice cream and moving it to the couch where Archie was laying between you two and being the ultimate cock block. You had sobered up already and if he didn’t fuck you soon you were going to leave and text your old hook-up or take care of things yourself.

“Liar” he smirked, “c’mon, tell me the truth. Close your eyes if it makes it easier. I know how nervous you get when I look at you. Your cheeks are already turning red” he cocked his head, almost daring you to finally speak your mind.

You tried to disprove his comment by controlling the heat in your face at the way he was looking at you, but he told the truth, and you couldn’t help but blush. Your next words didn’t help the situation either.

“I’m thinking that this is a waste of time and I’m better off finding someone else to fuck me if you won’t. I’m sober, so are you. So are you going to fuck me or not?” You didn’t sound the least bit confident in how you spoke, but Harry’s brows still rose quickly in surprise.

“Go to bed Archie” he told him, not taking his eyes off you as he played with his lips with his ringed fingers. Archie followed the command immediately, grabbing his toy in his mouth and trotting off to his dog bed upstairs. “They were some big words for someone so shy…” he commented, looking you up and down while tapping his fingers along the back of the couch. He let out a small hum like he was debating his words before he spoke again, “You know what... you want me to fuck you? Prove it”

You weren’t going to miss this opportunity when you were so goddamn horny you could cry. So you nodded and got off the couch, moving so you were standing right in front of him. Harry shifted so he was sitting facing you, his legs widened so you could step between them.

Harry sat there relaxed and with no readable expression on his face, his arms wide on the back of the couch. You knew he had been staring at your body all day, and you were still wearing your bikini under the sheer material of your shirt. You began to unbutton the shirt slowly to expose more and more of your skin.

His gaze darkened onto your body, and you could feel goosebumps rise all over your skin. You maintained eye contact with him as you finally let the shirt drop from your shoulders, leaving you standing there in a bikini that barely covered anything. It was one you basically only used for tanning, stringy and minimal for the smallest tan lines possible.

You didn’t wear it for Harry, but you were glad you chose it for today. The way he looked at you sent heat all over your body, and you loved it.

Harry’s hips shifted a little, drawing your eye to where his cock was slowly but surely hardening in his shorts. You couldn’t help but bite your lip when you noticed it, so you decided to take it a step further and undo the knot at your neck, causing your top to fall and expose your breasts. You undid the tie at your back next, so the top fell completely at your feet.

“Fuck…” he cursed, playing with his bottom lip as he stared right at your tits.

Harry was in two minds about what to do with you next. Part of him wanted to get you on your knees before him, and the other wanted to have you bouncing on his cock as soon as humanly possible. The way you were just standing there, so nervous looking with your pretty tits out before him was driving him crazy.

Before he could say or do anything else, you placed a hand on each of his thighs and used them for balance to get on your knees between his legs. His eyes widened for just a second, long enough to tell you that he wasn’t expecting you to do that. You couldn’t help but smile a little at his reaction, shifting on your knees to get comfortable.

“You wanna suck my cock?” He cooed, tucking a piece of hair behind your head before caressing the side of your face and tipping your chin up.

You nodded, bringing your hands to the waistband of his shorts. “Yes”

“Go on then sweetheart, show me what that mouth of yours can do” he smirked, slipping his thumb into your mouth before dragging your lip down. You bit down on it gently and nearly moaned when he brought the same thumb to his mouth to suck it clean.

He lifted his hips slightly so you could pull his shorts down, and oh god that would’ve had to be the prettiest cock you had ever seen. You pulled his shorts off completely with his help and chucked them behind you so you could focus on his cock.

It was so long and thick, a pretty pink tip just like his lips and resting up against his happy trail. It was practically staring at you and you were so excited to get a taste of it on your tongue. You looked up at Harry who smirked down at you and tilted his head towards you in a nod, telling you to get started.

You collected saliva in your mouth and spat on your hand for some lube before wrapping it around the base of his cock. Harry let out a shuddered breath at the feeling of your hand wrapped around him, squeezing hard enough for it to feel good but not hard enough for it to hurt.

You moved your hand up and down towards the base and used your mouth to pleasure his tip. You started with a small lick over his slit, humming at the salty taste of pre-come that had already started to collect. He let out the smallest moan, showing that he liked when you focused there. So you did it again and again, flicking your tongue over his slit while your hand squeezed and tugged at the base of his cock.

“Jesus fucking Christ sweetheart, you’re doing so well” he praised, caressing your hair before sliding his fingers into it and gripping gently. “Bring it into your mouth…” you did as instructed, sliding the tip of his cock into your mouth. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it…”

His head tilted back against the couch as he gently guided your mouth up and down his cock. He wasn’t rough, and didn’t force you to lower than you wanted to, but it kept you at the pace he wanted. You were still using your hand at his base, but decided to move it down to his balls so you could take him deeper into your mouth.

“Oh fuckk, I’m gonna come if you keep doing that” he groaned, his thighs tensing on either side of your shoulders at how heavenly it felt to have you fondle his balls.

This only encouraged you to keep going, digging your fingers into his thigh while you bopped over his cock and played with his balls in your other hand. His moaning was increasing, as was the tightness of his grip in your hair.

“I want you to come on my face, please” you panted, pulling off his cock only long enough to speak before you brought him back to your mouth.

It was like there was a switch in you. Before this you were so shy and cute, blushing at everything he said. But now? Here you were begging him to come on your face, and all it took was Harry's cock. Harry was addicted to this switch, and he wanted to make it permanent so you weren't so damn shy around him.

“Yeah? Is that so I can last all night and fuck you silly? Is that why you want me to come?” He teased, moving you faster over his cock.

You nodded the best you could and fondled his balls a little faster in your hand, bringing him further into your mouth and trying to relax your throat so you wouldn’t gag. The last thing you needed was throwing up all over his dick, especially when you had been craving it for years at this point.

“Yes, yes I want you to fuck me all night…” your voice was broken and rough from his cock. You started fisting his shaft in your hand and kitten-licking his tip again. You wanted his come and you would’ve drowned in it if you could.

“Want you to fuck me every way, in every room” you panted, sloppily licking at his balls before following the vein on the underside of him to his tip with your tongue. You did this over and over again, alternating between licking at his balls to sucking and flicking at his tip, all while your hand was pumping up and down over him.

Harry made you nervous, that was a given. But seeing him so fucked out because of what you were doing made you confident to say and do what you wanted. You were confident in your skills anyway, but Harry has always been an unattainable fantasy so making him feel good was the ultimate ego boost.

He was a mess above you. The second you started talking he could already feel himself getting closer and closer to his orgasm. He tried to watch you, because he had imagined the sight of you on your knees before him dozens of times and wanted to take in every detail for the next time he jerked off to you. But fucking hell with the way you were slobbering all over him and licking at his length so expertly he could barely keep his eyes open.

He didn’t expect it from you if he was being honest, but it was the best fucking surprise of his life. He loved a hot mouth and he could sit there and get a blowjob for hours if he could last. Yours would’ve had to be the best head he had received in a while, and the fact that it belonged to you was the cherry on top.

He didn’t know if he could keep this a one-night stand after this. He only ever did one-night stands and his plans for you were no different. But you were so fucking sexy and so eager to please, and you lived right next door and came to see him daily. The opportunity was always there, and he just couldn’t see himself not taking advantage of it in the future.

“Don’t stop y/n, I’m close” he groaned, tilting his head down to look at you as he moaned with an open mouth. His hair had stuck to his forehead where sweat had started to collect and his chest grew red at the beginning of his orgasm.

“Come for me, Harry. Give it to me” you encouraged, tapping his tip against your tongue as you pumped his length in one hand and played with his balls in the other.

“Fuckk, you’re so hot sweetheart, fucking love this, love your tongue” he moaned, his hand tightening in your hair as his abs started to tense up. “I’m gonna come... Take it. Fucking take it”

He let out a large moan and forced himself to look at you as he came. His come flew out in spurts, landing on your tongue and cheeks as you kept tapping his cock against your tongue. You hummed appreciatively against him and kept your mouth open to collect as much of his come as you could, not swallowing until he told you to.

God, he looked incredible as he came, his mouth dropped open and his eyes lidded and nearly closed in ecstasy. You wanted to see him come over and over again, and you would’ve done anything to make that happen.

“That’s a good girl, keep your mouth open and don’t swallow yet… fuck…” he panted as his cock started to soften in your hand. He caressed your face and collected the come that landed on your cheeks and forehead on two fingers before smearing it over your lips. He rubbed it along your tongue, where his come was still sitting next, painting your entire tongue with it. “Swallow, fucking swallow it all”

You did it immediately, opening your tongue to show him that it was all gone. He smiled down at you and cupped your face, pushing your mouth closed. “Good girl, god you’re so fucking perfect” his eyes drifted down to your tits for a moment, then lower to where your thighs were tensed closed.

He needed time before he could get hard again to fuck you and spending that time with his face buried in your cunt sounded like the perfect plan. “Stand up sweetheart” he instructed, giving you his hands so you could use them as leverage to stand up.

Your knees were shaky and your legs sore, but you didn’t care one bit. Sucking him off made you so horny and your clit felt like it could explode if he didn’t touch you.

“Take these off for me, need to see your pretty pussy” he cooed, gently grabbing your hips and looking from your bikini bottoms to your eyes.

You released a shaky breath and nodded before tucking your thumbs into the sides of your bikini and pushing it down, so it fell at your feet. You felt extremely vulnerable with how focused he was on scanning you head to toe, but you kept your eyes on his and didn’t look away this time. You just had his cock in your mouth and made him come; if anything you wanted him to see you… all of you.

Harry’s mouth grew dry at the sight of you in front of him, all trimmed and fucking soaked. He could see how wet your folds were in the dim lighting, so shiny and soft. He suddenly wished he didn’t let you finish him off.

His cock was sore just looking at you and he knew that he’d have to get himself hard again as soon as possible. At the same time though, he was glad that his cock was soft because he craved your taste and wanted to have you ride his face until he was covered in your arousal.

He stood quickly and slid a hand into your hair at the back of your head, pulling your face towards his and kissing you passionately before you could even process what was happening. With a firm grip on your hip, he pulled you flush against him, angling your face in the way he wanted so he could kiss you.

He could taste his own come on your tongue, yet that didn’t deter him and if anything, it only made your attraction to him grow. Most of the men you had hooked up with absolutely refused to kiss you after you gave them head but always encouraged you to kiss them after they ate you out (on the rare occasion they did).

The kiss was absolutely dizzying, and you kissed back eagerly, wounding your fingers through his hair so he wouldn’t pull away. You had dreamt about his lips for the longest time, and they definitely lived up to your expectations. They were soft and plump, and he kissed so well you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth.

This only seemed to encourage him, causing him to smirk against your mouth and nibble on your bottom lip. In the shortest time, your lips were already becoming sore, but you loved it and only craved more of him. Harry let out a little groan when you decided to bite back, and you took advantage of the opportunity and slipped your tongue into his mouth.

Harry loved when you took control, even though you seemed to relinquish it soon after, he loved that you told him what you wanted. He fisted at your hair tighter, causing you to whimper in pain and scratch at his scalp a little as he gladly slid his tongue against yours. His hand moved from your hip to your ass, grabbing onto it firmly and kneading it in his hand. He suddenly drew his hand back and slapped your ass hard, making you jolt against him and whine into his mouth.

The pain only made you wetter, and between his warm chest pressed against yours and his hand in your hair, you were ready to jump on his cock. Before you could even plead for more, Harry pulled away and tucked his hands under your ass, forcing you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you.

You held tight while he walked you through his house. You kissed from his jaw and down along the column of his neck, a low hum of appreciation escaping his lips. When you met the bottom of his neck you decided to bite down in the junction where his neck met his shoulder, sucking right after to try and create a mark.

“You’re so going to regret that, sweetheart” he chuckled, slapping your ass hard as he continued walking. You smiled and licked the spot you bit, trailing your tongue up to his ear where you tugged on it. He spanked you again and groaned in your ear, loving how playful you were being.

When you made it to his bedroom, he closed the door to keep Archie out then laid you on the bed and unwrapped your legs from his waist, kneeling between them. He grabbed onto your wrists and pinned them above your head, smirking down at you. “Keep these here, understand?”

“Yes,” you nodded, keeping them above your head after he let them go.

He started doing the exact same thing you were doing to him; he held onto your jaw and angled your face up so he could kiss along it before moving down the column of your neck. This time though, he took a lot longer going down there, stopping to nip and bite at so many spots until you were squirming underneath him.

He hovered over you, now using both arms to keep himself balanced as he smirked up at you. He continued moving down along your collarbones, nipping right on top of your left one when he felt you shudder at his kiss there.

It was like he was trying to find every sensitive spot on your body, kissing and licking around until you twitched or sighed or did anything that indicated that he reached somewhere sensitive. As soon as he knew it, he’d attack it and create one pretty bruised mark after the other.

It was both heaven and pure torture. His lips felt amazing going over your body but his knees were keeping your legs wide so you couldn’t squeeze them together to relieve the tension. You needed him to touch you, bad, and when he got to your nipples this only got worst.

“These are the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen in my life” he complimented, squeezing one in his hand before leaning down to tug on it gently between his teeth. You whimpered and scrunched your hands into fists to try and keep them there, fighting the urge to tug on his hair.

“Gorgeous, just so fucking gorgeous you are. And all mine, hmm?” He switched to your other breast, flicking his tongue against your nipple before bringing it into his mouth and sucking on it. He released it with a pop before speaking again, “this all mine?” He cooed, maintaining eye contact with you as he leant down to bite it again, dragging it back in his teeth.

“Yes, oh god, yes… all yours” you moaned, your thighs attempting to close around Harry’s legs.

“I know… ohh baby, I know. Would let me do anything wouldn’t you?” He teased, kissing lower down and dragging his tongue along the centre of your stomach. He placed his hands on your inner thighs to pin them open as he slid down onto his stomach so he could kiss below your belly button. “Now tell me, what do you want sweet girl? I can tell you want something” he pressed a kiss to your mound this time. He was so close to your pussy that you could scream.

“Please Harry, need your… need your mouth”

“Yeah? You need my mouth all over your pretty little cunt” he cocked his head, his thumbs rubbing along the crease of your legs, right near your pussy.

You nodded eagerly, “yes, please”

“It’s so pretty you know that? Got the prettiest pussy…” he blew right over your clit before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your mound again. “Not that surprising though, is it? You’re such a pretty girl, gorgeous really. No wonder you’ve got such a pretty pussy”

Your body heated up at his compliment, your face becoming all red in the cheeks. You pressed your cheek into the bed, so you didn’t look at him, not wanting him to see just how nervous he made you even though you just had his cock in your mouth.

He turned his head to kiss your thigh instead, and while you hoped he’d pick up the pace and kiss down quickly before eating you out, he did the opposite and repeated the same process as your neck. He licked and sucked his way from your mid-thigh down to your inner thigh, completely ignoring your growing pleas for him to touch you properly.

You kept your hands above your head, despite the need for you to use them to guide Harry’s mouth to your cunt. Something told you that he wouldn’t like that though, and at this point, you were so desperate for an orgasm you didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise it.

When his mouth met where his hand was, he switched sides and repeated the process. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, watching as your squirmed and panted above him. Your eyes were closed most of the time, but every now and then you’d open them and plead again for him to just touch you.

Right after you pleaded with him and your eyes fluttered closed again, he struck. Instead of going down to meet his hand, he dove straight in and licked one stripe from your entrance to your clit. Your eyes flew open, and you gasped at the sudden touch, moaning incredibly loud when he did it again and pressed his tongue to your clit.

“Fucking hell baby, you taste so good I could eat you every day for the rest of my fucking life” he groaned, lapping at your clit and causing the prettiest whines of pleasure to drop from your mouth. You really did taste incredible, and you were so wet you were soaking his tongue in your flavour.

Harry loved it and craved your orgasm on his tongue. He used his fingers to spread you open to him making it easier for him to collect your arousal from your entrance. He flicked his tongue against there before pressing it as deep as it could go inside you, moaning obscenely at your flavour and trying to get as much as he could. You were writing underneath him, loving the way his tongue felt inside you.

“Please Harry” you whimpered, bringing your arms down to cover your face as you tried to grind up to meet his mouth.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I got you” he cooed, pressing an open-mouthed kiss at your clit. He repeated this a few more times, applying light suction each time he did it. “Put your arms back up, need to see your pretty face”

You shakily pushed your arms back up over your head, keeping your eyes closed as your back arched at how amazing it felt to have his mouth around your clit. He sucked harder, flicking his tongue over you between each suck.

He was building up the pressure, doing light licks and suckles before pressing harder and doing firmer actions. He was absolutely obsessed with the way your face was scrunched up; your mouth wide open as your whimpered so prettily.

“God you’re so pretty, look so fucking gorgeous like this” he hummed, circling your entrance with his forefinger before slipping it in gently.

He curled his finger into you, finding that spongey spot inside of you after a few thrusts, changing the position of his fingertips until he found it. When he did, oh he knew it right away because you let out the filthiest whine he had ever heard.

“Oh god, yes! Right there, Harry… please don’t stop” you panted, fisting your hands as your back arched off the back again.

Harry groaned against you and lapped faster at your clit, slipping a second finger into you, and thrusting them as fast as he could right against your g-spot. The way your breasts looked from this angle, all red and splotchy and already bruising was driving him crazy. Those marks would last for days, and he knew he’d be getting you naked very soon to see how they were healing.

He kept eating you out like you were his last meal, moaning and groaning into you with pleasure. The room was filled with your combined noises of pleasure, and obscene wet sounds, both from your own wetness and his mouth.

With each curl of his fingers more and more arousal oozed out of you, coating his fingers with cream that dripped to cover his palm. He loved being covered in it, and at this point, his chin and nose were drenched also which only turned him on more.

Your scent, your flavour, everything was addictive. His cock was already plumping up against the bed and he knew by the time you came he’d be ready to fuck you to oblivion. He was utterly looking forward to it too, you were so warm around his fingers, and he knew it would feel heavenly wrapped around his cock.

“H-Harry I’m gonna come” you warned, your orgasm approaching rapidly.

It was a slow burn at first, a build-up like you thought you were going to come but weren’t completely sure. Then it became so much more intense, rushing and firing up inside you with so much certainty that you were going to come that there was no way you could hold it even if he asked you to.

“Go on sweetheart. Just look at me, open your eyes and look at me as you come” he encouraged, “that’s it, good girl” he praised once your eyes opened to look at him.

His tongue returned to your clit which had you panting above him, your thighs beginning to shake around his head as your orgasm waved over you. You cried out his name, your body tensing and vibrating all at the same time as waves of pleasure flooded your body. He carried you through with his fingers and tongue, slowing down to soft touches so it didn’t overwhelm you just yet.

You tried to keep your eyes open to look at him, and you were glad you did because the same eye contact that had you flustered all night made your orgasm so much more intense. It felt like you were connecting to Harry on a deeper level just by looking at him in such a vulnerable state, but you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself and misread this entire situation. It was a hook-up you had dreamt of for years, and you hoped that at the end of it you’d still keep your job. It didn’t have to go past that, but part of you hoped it would.

“That’s it, baby, look so fucking gorgeous when you come” he sighed, licking his fingers that were inside of you clean before pressing kisses to your thighs as your body relaxed into the bed.

He kissed up your body, gentle open-mouth kisses over the bruises he had made until he hovered over you. His hips dropped so his hard cock was pressed right over your soaked pussy. The feeling made you whimper and wrap your legs around his waist as he joined his lips to yours, his cock sliding between your folds and pressing against your sensitive clit. He groaned into your mouth and ran his tongue across the seam of your lips, slipping his tongue in when you parted them to give him access.

“Taste’s so good” you moaned against his mouth.

“I know, oh god I know” he groaned, kissing you almost desperately and sliding his tongue against yours again.

Your arousal was all over his tongue, and the taste made you moan. Both your releases were still lingering on each other’s tongues and the mixture made both of you kiss each other harder. Your tongues pressed harder together, and you tugged at his hair as you bucked your hips to try and grind against him.

“Fuck me, godd Harry I need your cock so bad… I’m on birth control and I’m clean so please” you gasped out, squeezing your legs around him tighter to try and emphasise your point.

He wanted to fuck you raw, holy fuck did he want to fuck you raw, especially with his cock already nestled between your dripping folds. But he never took the chance and risked a pregnancy, nor did he believe every girl that told him they were on birth control.

He had money, so he knew someone would be crazy enough to try and baby-trap him. He didn’t not believe you, nor did he think you’d risk getting pregnant when you were so dedicated to your studies and career but putting on a condom was safer for him.

“I’d love to fuck you raw sweetheart, and fuck maybe someday I will. But for tonight I’m gonna use a condom, alright?” He caressed your face and kissed you again before reaching over to his bedside table where the box of condoms was.

“Mhmm, okay, just hurry up” you replied, propping your upper body up on your elbows.

You didn’t care too much about using a condom or not, but it did surprise you that he didn’t jump on the opportunity of coming inside you. If you had offered someone your age the same thing, they’d be in you so fast so they could fuck you raw.

Harry had already proved that he was different from younger guys; receiving mind-blowing head was something you hadn’t had in a long time. Maybe he had a reason, and maybe you’d press him for the answer after you were finished.

What had your head reeling more than anything else though, was the fact that he said that ‘someday’ he might fuck you raw, implying that this could happen again. And god you wanted it to happen again, more than anything.

You dropped your legs from his waist as he returned to you, dropping back to sit on his haunches as he opened the condom wrapped and chucked it behind him.

“Impatient, are we?” He smirked, sliding the condom on his cock that was soaked in your arousal already.

“Yes” you replied, biting on your lip as you looked up at him. He placed his hands on either side of your head and leaned down to kiss you, forcing you to lay flat on your back.

“Gonna make you feel so full sweetheart” he murmured against your mouth, reaching between your bodies to grab onto his cock and guide his tip to your entrance.

“Mmh, please” you moaned, wounding your fingers through his hair and taking a firm grip in anticipation.

Harry pulled his face from yours so he could look down at you, wanting to see your face when he entered you for the first time. He had already stretched you out before with his fingers, and with your pussy still dripping wet he slid in easily. He did it slowly, making sure you felt every single inch of him go into you.

Your mouth opened on a choked moan and your fingers dug into his scalp as your back arched against him. “Oh fuck” you cried, your eyes closing. You kissed him blindly, catching his bottom lip between yours and biting down as he kept pushing in until he couldn’t anymore.

Harry replied with a similarly eager ‘fuck’, drawing it out while he let you adjust to his size. He was a lot thicker than two fingers, but with the way you were clutching onto him and panting into his mouth he could tell you liked it.

He hadn’t entered you all the way just yet, but fucking hell the feeling was indescribable. With a few more thrusts he’d be balls deep in you, having your wet velvety walls covering every inch of his cock.

“Okay?” He asked, checking in with you before he made any movements.

“Yes, god yes, fuck me. Please just fuck me, hard” you begged, hooking your leg around his hips to try and push him deeper into you.

“I fucking love your filthy mouth” he groaned, kissing you roughly as he slowly began snapping his hips up to meet yours.

You wrapped your arms around his chest and let your head tilt back as you moaned through an open mouth, unable to close it even if you tried. He didn’t seem to like this though, because his hands were soon threading into your hair on either side of your head and pulling your face down so he could reach your mouth with his own.

“You feel so good baby, so hot and tight. Can’t get over this” he praised, kissing you lazily and letting his mouth brush against yours as he panted into it.

Harry kept rocking into you, grinding his hips while his cock slipped deeper and deeper until he was balls-deep in you, his cock filling you to the absolute brim. You had never felt anything like it. Being so full and so stretched was making you go absolutely crazy.

You couldn't even speak, only moan and whine underneath him as he fucked into you over and over again. You clung onto him with your arms, pressing your chest up into him as your fingers dug into his back. With every thrust your body slid with his, moving up and down the bed with the force.

Every grind forced your clit to rub against his lower stomach, delicious pleasure making your insides twist up already in preparation for another orgasm. It happened a lot quicker than you expected. Although with the way Harry was fucking you dizzy he could've been going for five minutes or an hour and you wouldn't have been able to tell the difference.

Harry's head tilted back when you clenched around him involuntarily, groaning out such a deep sound, your eyes opened to look at him. He looked so fucking delicious, a thin layer of sweat covering his face and chest and his cross necklace swaying over your face in such a seductive way you could've cried.

"Are you close again, love? Can feel you squeezing me so tight" he looked down at you, his irises dilating when he saw that you were already looking at him, your eyes nearly slits with how hooded they were.

"Y-yes. I'm, I'm gonna come" you stuttered, practically clawing at his back as your body tensed up underneath him.

"Go on baby, come for me... give Daddy another orgasm" his voice dropped an octave, his head tipping to say the words right into your ear.

It was like that one word triggered your orgasm, sending you way off the edge and into waves and waves of more pleasure. Harry kept fucking into you at his same brutal pace, each thrust against your g-spot causing another wave of pleasure to flood through you.

When Harry felt your body relax again, he took no time in slipping out of you and flipping you to your stomach. Your face dug into the bed as you tried to regain your energy, not finding it in you to even turn your head so you could breathe properly. Harry gripped your hips and pulled them back so you were resting on your knees with your chest flat on the bed.

He slid into your entrance again, a long whine of relief leaving your mouth at the feeling of him inside you again. He grabbed your hair and wrapped it around his fist, pulling back until it stung so your head was far off the mattress and your sounds of pleasure weren't blocked anymore.

"Gonna fuck you so hard, sweetheart... gonna have you shaking and crying underneath me by the end of the night. I can promise you that" he whispered into your ear before snapping his hips in quickly to prove his point.

You couldn't even reply when he started thrusting into you in hard quick snaps, with a lot better control than his previous position. You thought he was going hard before, but fuck the control and balance he had from behind made his force so much greater.

Your body jolted with every thrust and you could barely register your surroundings anymore from the way he was pounding into you. Your legs kept slipping wide and wider along the bed, making your body fall lower against the mattress. You made no effort to rectify the position, feeling too overwhelmed with pleasure to even care about what your body was doing.

This forced harry to let go of your hair and pull your hips up himself so your ass was high in the air again, returning the leverage Harry needed to fuck you the way he wanted. He loved doggy, and in most of his hook-ups, he'd have his partner on her stomach with her ass in the air the moment they were ready for penetration.

But you... he missed looking at your face. Your pretty little face with your cute scrunched expression and your open mouth as you let out the filthiest little whimpers. He wanted to fuck you hard, but he wanted to do it with your face in his view and your moans clear and loud for him, not muffled in the bed like they were now.

So he slipped out of you again and turned you back on your back, pulling your legs over his shoulders and reaching between them to grab at your throat. "Open your eyes pretty girl, let Daddy see them"

Your entire body rose with goosebumps the second 'daddy' left his mouth, your pussy clenching around his cock almost immediately after he slid into you again. Without even realising it, you covered his hand with your own and pressed it harder against your neck to force him to squeeze harder. You loved being choked, and you had fantasized about Harry doing it to you for years.

Harry didn't want to overuse the term or do anything too rough to you in case that's not what you wanted, but the way your body reacted to it told him everything he needed to know. You loved it, and it pushed him further to his own orgasm just knowing that.

"You like that, huh? Like when I choke you, hmm?" he grinned, squeezing harder around your neck as he slowly started thrusting into you again. The look on your face was exactly what he had been missing; dazed fuck me eyes and such a fucked out grin on your face like this was your favourite thing in the entire world.

"Yes, Daddy. Love it... love it s'much" you mumbled out, squeezing his wrist while your other hand fisted the bedding beside you.

Your pussy was practically gushing over his cock, coating his cock in so much cream and arousal, it was like you were never going to stop being wet. Mix that with the way 'daddy' sounded coming out of your mouth and Harry could feel his cock already twitch inside you and his core tighten.

But there was no way he was going to come before you did for the third time, and there was still so much more he wanted to do to you before he finished. Ideally, you'd even be able to finish together, but he knew that rarely happened. The thought of it though... fuck it was heavenly. Having your cunt squeeze and pulse around him while he came would've been the greatest finish possible.

Using his hand around your neck as the leverage he needed, he used his other to find your clit and rub on it as fast as he could while still keeping a steady pace with his cock. Having that added stimulation made your whimpers turn even more high-pitched, your back arching as tears leaked from your eyes.

Being fucked so hard and rough was already having you seeing stars, but adding Harry's fingers to the mix and you were struggling not to get overwhelmed. It practically blinded every other sense until all you could feel and focus on was the pleasure points of your body all mixing and being stimulated at once.

"That's it, baby, moan my name for me. Tell me who's fucking you so good right now" Harry coaxed, his eyes flicking between your face and your tits. They were bouncing with every thrust and he had the urge to stuff them in his mouth.

"Daddy... ohmygod daddy" you cried, "I'm, I think I'm close again!"

Your pussy was swollen and ultra-sensitive from your previous two orgasms, and Harry's hand restricting your breathing and making your head all woozy enhanced every sensation. You came again with a cry of his name, feeling your body jolt violently underneath Harry as waves and waves of intense, hot pleasure went through you.

It was like everything turned into white noise as you came for the third time. You knew Harry said something but you just couldn't hear it properly, nor did you care when your orgasm seemed to be going on forever. Harry's thrust's had slowed significantly, and he used his fingers on your clit to carry through your high, prolonging it with variances of softer and harder rubs.

By the time you had come down from your high, Harry had stilled completely inside of you. He was still hard as a rock and had moved your legs off his shoulders so he could hover over you with his hands on either side of your face.

Although you were utterly exhausted from coming so much, you still wanted him to fuck you over his couch, and his dining table, and his kitchen. God, you wanted to christen every room in the house and you weren't leaving until that happened.

"Why'd you stop, huh?" you asked softly, pushing his sweaty hair back from his face.

"I lost you there for a second, love. Thought you might need a break or some water before we do anything else" he replied with a soft smile, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

You shook your head. "No, I'm okay... But I do have a request" you played with the hair at the nape of his neck as you spoke.

"Oh really? And what's that?" he raised a brow, a bit in disbelief at how confident you seemed around him now that you two had fucked.

"I want you to fuck me in every room in this house. We're two down, only like six to go... But if you need a break I totally get it" you shrugged, challenging him while biting down on your lip as you looked at him.

"If I need a break?" he chuckled, gripping your jaw roughly and squeezing your cheeks. Leaning in closer, he nudged his nose against yours, "You won't be able to walk once I'm done with you, sweetheart. So if you need a break, let me know"

He wasn’t exaggerating about not being able to walk, because by the time he had lifted you back upstairs and tucked you into bed after eating you out one more time and bending you over most of the flat surfaces in the house, you couldn’t even feel your legs.

Honestly, you were surprised Harry lasted so long but fuck his stamina was otherworldly. He was able to fuck, and fuck hard for very long durations at a time until he had to readjusted or slow down for a couple minutes to catch his breath.

You could tell he worked out, and beyond his daily walk because he was so fit you were barely able to keep up with him. By the end of it you felt like a limp doll, orgasm after orgasm making your body cry out and convulse underneath him until you were reduced to a sobbing mess, incoherent and sore.

“Think you’re gonna make your morning walk tomorrow?” Harry asked, running his finger up and down your upper arm.

“If I haven’t floated away into nothing” you mumbled back, digging your head into his chest.

He chuckled and tilted your head up by your chin to capture your lips. You were already feeling and acting so much more comfortable around him and he loved it. “How about we forgo the walk and do breakfast instead before I have to leave for work? Means you can sleep in a little more”

“That sounds perfect” you sighed.

Harry Styles never, never neglected his morning walk, nor did he have hookups stay for breakfast. You knew this and so did he. But instead of commenting on the possibility of what this meant for your relationship, you let yourself drift to sleep.

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

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[imsoglitter]

Hi kate! Idk if you’ll see this or answer but I wanted to send bc I’ve been following u for awhile and see u as sort of a big sibling/mentor that reminds me that it gets better and one day everything will be okay :’) do u have advice on how to move on? I’m femme and had my first ever kinda relationship w a butch and it was nice but they abandoned me on my bday celebration after blowing up on me saying that I was too high maintenance, materialistic, sparkly, and pink and my emotions were “too much to process” and “my presence was unhealthy” 6 months later they’re engaged to another femme who is more slow living and earthy. sucked a lot bc from day 1 they said I WASNT too much and that they would never leave. Idk I’m not sad I dont wish I was the soon wife but I’m convinced now that I’ll never find anyone bc all butches/mascs at the end of the day want that & I’ll be alone 4evr. I noticed all of my butch/femm couple friends are kinda same the same (earthy, natural, no glitz or glamour, etc). Feeling v high femme camp antics essay rn and having trouble coping. I tried changing my aesthetic and being minimalist but it put in deep depression so idk what to do. I’m unlikeable to all the ppl I’m attracted to but fitting in to be likable makes me want to kms. Any thoughts or ideas?? Hope this doesn’t come off as trauma dumping 😖

Hi anon! I don't know if I'm the right person to answer this bc I'm definitely a lazy femme who doesn't have the energy to be high femme, and the advice I'm going to give you is something you've probably heard a million times before.

If someone dislikes you enough to dump you on your birthday, you are better off without them. This goes for any other special occasion as well. The first time I got dumped, they very politely waited until I got back from a special trip I was on so it wouldn't be ruined, and I'm really glad for that. It made everything amicable and we're still penpals to this day. It sounds like your ex was bad at communicating the problems they were having in the relationship, given the blowup, and reacted pretty immaturely tbh. That's not the kind of person you want to spend your life with. (I'm also very wary of people who get married after less than a year of knowing each other, but that's a separate issue)

Honestly the best advice I can give you, and you're probably going to hate this, is take a break from looking for a sexual/romantic relationship. Focus on the other relationships in your life, whether they're with friends or family or even coworkers. And spend time with yourself. Definitely don't change everything about yourself to be with someone because you're going to have to live with yourself your whole life. The most important person to like you is going to be yourself. If you want to change think about expanding rather than dumping everything and picking something new.

And on the topic of finding someone who will love you the way you are, your best goal is to be patient, and to take action when you feel ready. Don't settle with someone who tolerates you or you'll end up like my parents (bad). And if you feel like there's potential, don't be afraid to make the first move. Pining is fun until it's not anymore so it's better to skip that part sometimes lol

Practical speaking here's my advice:

Delete your dating apps for a while

Get yourself a vibrator

Go to the movies by yourself

Pick up a new physical hobby like gardening or woodworking or cooking, something you can touch

If you hate your new hobby drop it and try something else

Try a new restaurant you've never been to before

Go for a walk/sit in a park weather permitting and birdwatch

And if you're seriously suicidal, take inventory of yourself and see if you can come up with a plan to avoid that headspace. Therapy and meds helped for me, but the main thing was moving out of a toxic environment. Plus I'm not stupid enough to pretend that therapy fixes everything all the time

I guess I'm saying you should date yourself, but trying to not make it sound super corny lol. I hope this helps and I hope you can figure out how to get out of your rut. I'm rooting for you!

[dopaminergicaddictions]

3/14/24

12:02 a.m

Something I've noticed as a change for my constant auditory hallucinations is if I listen to chatter aka TV or podcasts or even sometimes when I'm in, "silence," is I hear it like, "screaming" it isn't louder. It's not really a scream.... in volume. It's more like an inaudible, "ahhhhh" like it wants to talk and can't verbalize. It has the same voice. I have been hearing it since the beginning of March.

I assume that is the voice "devocalizing." Like I said it's not loud... or louder. It's def not intelligent, creative or persuasive. It's not getting any quiter than a whispering echo though... it's the same volume but it's this weird, "ahhhhhhhhh" it's clearly trying to talk bc it's the same voice but it's unable to vocalize.

It's also like sometimes it can be really repetitive and I can focus on the screeching of the air conditioner the natural sound and I can turn the voice into the screeching making it sound like it's saying what it is saying but it sounds more nature and its easier to ignore, however I really have to try to do that. It takes focus and effort.

The voice is excessively repetitive and lacks intelligence. It's only intelligent when it repeats my internal monologue. Which it does like 50% of the time, it used to more. I have more quiet thoughts. I feel like that, "ahhh" is truly devocalization occurring. Maybe I'll recover one day but I'm not holding my breath.

I just wish i could meet someone be proven wrong that soulmates don't exist. And just love their children. Feel wanted, needed, be helpful. My hallucination would drastically lessen if I was not isolated and if I was surrounded by people. I've been trying to be social so I don't hallucinate as much, also I don't expect Kristen to lose her license. I don't expect to find a partner. I don't expect to recover. I expect to overdose tbh. It's coming. Especially if Kristen gets her life of luxury when I lost my ability to sit in silence and feel internal peace.

I'd say being a voice hearer was interfering with my ability to find someone but truly I don't even get through the swiping part... none of my personality is getting considered. I took trans off my profile, cause I'll never find someone with that at the top of my bio. Idk what I got to do to pass the swiping test.

I've given up on thinking Elise is my soulmate. What do I think?

She loves her husband, they are happy. I'm happy for them both especially her. I think she cares deeply about me and would be my friend but can't bc of professional constraints that will eventually not be a problem but for now they are. I expect I'll hear from her in 2 years minimum. Maybe 5 years maximum. I expect I may never hear from her.

I still love her, I still think she's my soulmate but not really cause soulmates don't exist. If soulmates existed she would be getting a divorce. If soulmates existed she would message me the only way she knows how. I expect if anything she's going to be my friend eventually and it'll be some insignificant nothing relationship. If I ever get married which won't happen cause no one would be stupid enough to do that, maybe she will be at my wedding smiling. I don't expect her to ever be my girl. I don't expect her to show up.

I do believe we had something special and i believe we may at some point in the future if I'm still here. I don't expect it to be romantic but I don't expect it to be fulfilling. My expectation is she will be like Katelyn or Tee. A BFF but it won't fill this hollowing aloneness anyways. I'll only have that filled by a partner.

I realized to not be delusional at all, I can't expect her to show up. I can't even think she has feelings for me. It's even delusional to believe she cares about me genuinely. I'm going to be delusional in that regard. I remember her eyes and idc what anyone says. I know she cares still. However I have accept the harsh reality that her caring about me does not mean she's ever going to know me personally. The harsh reality is, she's going to live her life where she is, and I'm going to live my life where I am and I'm going to hope and dream she shows up for me. As the months go by I'll cope with abandonment. It's something I'm used to.

I won't dislike her. I won't resent her. I'll root for her silently over here and hope she's happy. That's all I can do.

[honeypiehotchner]

“aren’t you going to thank me?” (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Nothing like coming back with a smut one shot am I right? 🤪🤪🤪 Happy International Women’s Day here’s Hotch eating you out

Prompt is from @multiverse-mxdness​ cm discord writing challenge!! I had too much fun w this

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), I honestly don’t think there’s much else unless you count Hotch himself as a warning (I do), ofc there’s the slight power dynamic bc he’s your boss

WC: 1,185 (I wrote this in like 15 minutes WHAT)

Going undercover was not exactly on your bucket list, especially not as your boss’s wife. 

This unsub is targeting couples at mixer events, and unfortunately their type has been exactly you and Hotch. You had no choice but to agree. 

It’s not that you’re uncomfortable, no, it’s nothing like that. You’re more than comfortable, and that’s the problem. 

You have a raging crush. On your boss. Did you mention he’s your superior? And it’s totally against some unspoken workplace rules to like him or anything further? 

“Y/N?” Hotch knocks on the door. “Are you ready?” 

You had come back to the hotel to change. You needed to be in a red dress, and Hotch in a red tie. 

“Yeah,” you squeak out. “One second.”

You adjust the seams of the dress, fix the collar and smooth out any random wrinkles. It’s one of those dresses you pack as a backup, but is never a first choice for an outfit. You don’t hate it, but you don’t love it either. 

It’s time. 

Slowly, you grab your purse and head to the door, opening it to reveal Hotch. He changed out of his grey suit and into his black one, complete with a red Gucci tie that Rossi gifted him one Christmas. 

He looks hot.

“Wow.”

You think for a second that the word left your lips, but it didn’t. It was Hotch. 

“Thanks?” you laugh. “Are we undercover already?”

“What? No,” he shakes his head. “I’m sorry. You just— You look really nice.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, suddenly bashful. He’s never one to comment on anyone’s appearance, unless of course, Reid gets a haircut. “You too,” you offer, wanting to say it anyway, but now feeling as though it sounds cliché. 

“Thank you,” Hotch chuckles, dipping his head. “Ready?”

As you’ll ever be.

~ ~ ~ 

You hold onto Hotch’s arm like a wife would, leaning into him every few seconds as you both mingle around the event. 

You’ve been married for almost a year. Dating for two. Vacations on the beach are a must. Work hours are crazy. You work even though he makes enough to support you, and he supports your decision to work. 

It’s all so blissfully domestic and too good to be true. You’re going to bask in it for as long as you can, knowing after tonight it’ll all be gone. 

Hotch can sense the unsub approaching, so he squeezes your arm lightly to let you know. 

They approach with a smile, offering you a glass of champagne that you turn down. You and Hotch go through the general details of your relationship, each of you studying the unsub’s expressions as you speak.

The unsub looks for unhappiness in the couples, though, so the one saving grace the two of you have right now is that: happiness.

So, to prove they’re the unsub, you decide to grab Hotch’s face, and kiss him. Right on the lips. Passionately.

Immediately, the unsub recoils, and storms away, clearly angered by the trick you just played on them.

When you pull away, you lift Hotch’s wrist to your lips to speak to Morgan. “They’re headed your way. Definitely the unsub.”

Morgan responds letting you know he heard you -- and saw that kiss.

You drop Hotch’s wrist, knowing Morgan will give you hell for that later, but for now, you’re on cloud nine.

“Aren’t you going to thank me?”

Hotch quirks an eyebrow. “For what?”

You scoff. “For saving your ass!” You playfully smack his chest, unable to hide your smile. 

“Oh, is that what that was?” he grins. “I thought you just wanted to kiss me.”

He’s your boss, your brain reminds you. But you can’t stop the words from tumbling out of your lips. “Maybe it was a bit of both.”

Hotch pulls you in by your waist, and your hands return to their place on his shoulders. 

“In that case,” he says quietly. “Can I kiss you this time?”

You nod. “Yeah. Of course.”

He presses his lips to yours firmly, kissing you like he’s been starving for years. 

“I think,” he says, pausing to kiss you again, “I need to thank you properly.”

“Mhm,” you agree, kissing him again. “How are you going to do that?”

He grins, and you kiss his smile. “I can think of a few things.”

~ ~ ~

Just twenty minutes later, you find yourself being carried bridal style into Hotch’s hotel room. He sets you down on the bed and returns to the door, locking it and putting the Do Not Disturb card in for extra precaution.

“Have you thought of how you’re going to thank me yet?”

“Oh yes,” he grins, grabbing both your hands and standing you up. “And it starts with helping you out of this dress.”

You turn around, silently giving him permission to unzip you. He does so slowly, tenderly, his fingertips brushing your exposed skin and his lips leaving kisses in their wake. On your shoulders, your neck, your cheeks. Everywhere he can reach, even your arms.

He kneels as he pulls the dress down, smiling when it reveals what he had suspected. No underwear.

He helps you step out of the fabric and toss it away, gazing up at you with heated eyes. He takes your hand and kisses each finger, your palm, and your knuckles. 

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod, holding his cheek. “Do you mind if I lay down instead?”

“Not at all,” he smiles. “I want you to be comfortable.”

Once you’re lying on the bed, a pillow underneath your hips, Hotch returns to kissing every inch of your skin. Up your arms and over your collar bones, up your neck and across your face. You’re in a blissful state, just lying there, cherishing this feeling unlike any other.

“Can I taste you?” he asks suddenly.

“Yes,” you reply instantly, whimpering when he presses an open mouthed kiss to your breast.

His lips travel down your stomach. You’re practically aching for his mouth to be on you, and he knows it. He still takes his time. He wants this to be special.

You taste like Heaven and he can’t get enough. His arms wrap around your legs, pulling you into him. He breathes into you, groaning when your hands find their place in his hair, tugging tightly. Hips bucking, you cry out when his tongue delves inside of you. He’s chasing your release more than you are; he’s desperate. He needs to know the taste of you when you let go, when you see stars in his arms, at his mercy.

It doesn’t take long. With a tongue like his and a fire inside of you, it takes mere minutes. You aren’t sure. But you explode.

He soothes you as you come down, breathing hard and shaking, yet still aching.

After a few more kisses, his lips travel upwards again, over your belly button, between your breasts, to your mouth. 

“Thank you,” you say, still trying to catch your breath.

“Thank you,” he replies, putting his weight on either side of you, pressing his body to yours, soothing your shakes.

[vaguely-yandere]

CHAMI tell me if you ever get tired of reading my long ass rambles AND ALSO don’t feel obligated to respond to it w somethjnf super long urself i know ur busy and it’s time consuming </3 IM JUST LETTING MY THOUGHTS OUT

anyways. WHAT ABOUT A ROYAL YAN AU??? or. you know what i cant decide who should be who so i’ll give you a couple scenarios bc im indecisive and i actually cant think properly ever so:

1. a yan whos next in line for the crown, oldest of all their siblings, someone who is meant to take over soon!! they’re getting hundreds of letters from noble men all over the country, trying to sell of their sons/daughters to their majesty!! royal yan ofc, doesn’t give one shit, instead, they’re in love with this one butler/maid/worker who occasionally bring them their meals, dress them, etc. etc. yes, you!! you’ve always felt like your majesty always payed extra special attention to you, always requesting you to accompany them through town, or maybe on a walk through the garden; even helping them during their bathing time (eek!!) but ofc, the queen/king would NEVER allow their candidate for the throne to marry a commoner, they have too much pride for that. cue royal yan possibly killing them off if they don’t let them do so?? they were getting old anyways!! this yans biggest problem is figuring out how to show their absolute devotion to you, despite them being expected to run an entire nation!! they might just have to ditch the crown and run away with an unsuspecting you <33 ANYWAYS THATS FORBIDDEN ROMANCE VER. 1

2. this time YOURE the royal, and yan is the servant!! maybe you’re not next in line for the throne, but you’re still a high ranking noble, who’s expected to marry someone of your stature. perhaps servant yan is your personal maid/butler; someone who wakes you up in the mornings (not without staring at you for a bit <33 youre just so cute when you sleep!!) and delivers your tea (they loooooooove watching you enjoy the small cakes and tea the kitchen prepared!! they made sure they had all your favorites plated <333) and someone who helps you bathe!! you insist you’re fine on your own, but they’re always there to make sure you don’t “drown in the tub”, which is funny since they never seem to be able to make eye contact with you as you wash up!! they’re always bright red, looking away nervously. honestly, why even bother asking to stay?? (it’s so that they can make sure no one else helps you out when you’re looking all sweet and vulnerable like that!!) a butler/maid yan who shreds any letters asking for your hand in marriage, only relaying the “necessary” messages to you. someone who will do their best to keep you their master forever, keep it you and them, your most loyal servant, FOREVER. it doesn’t matter if you feel like no one wants you, if no one’s asked you to marry them, if you’ve become a social outcast in the noble scene!! servant yan will always be there for you… and they’ll get rid of anyone who dares try to disrupt the dynamic you two have together!! AKA FORBIDDEN RKMANCE #2!!!

3. a noble yan whos sibling is the crown prince/princess, and who’s fiance (you) is someone they want. it’s just so unfair. first their sibling gets the throne, AND they get this sweet perfect fiance to be engaged to!! they don’t even love you that much, not as much as noble yan could!! it could be that their older sibling and you are deeply in love, it could be that you two aren’t!! it doesn’t matter. noble yan will view it wrong no matter what, you should be with THEM instead. they try to do anything to call off your engagement with their sibling so that they can swoop in and take you for themselves. of course they’d never want to ruin your reputation, but if spreading rumors is what they’d have to resort to in order to make you theirs, they might just have to do it. luckily, marriage standards for royal children other than the one next in line for the throne arent AS strict, so they could easily marry you even after your engagement was called off with their sibling. if anything, you should be grateful a noble, a member of the royal family no less, still wants you after all those mysterious, nasty rumors were spread about you!! hehe FORBIFDEN ROMANCE #3!!

4. and lastly. (i know it’s been a lot STAY W ME HERE!!) a NON forbidden romance between a noble yan and a noble you!! they just do their best to court you, sending over flower bouquets, writing love letters, gifting you jewels and land in your name. you’re unsure of how to react to such a passionate suitor, but you can’t help but like the attention!! i could see this route being the most healthy (if you could call noble yans obsession healthy) out of the 4, since you and noble yan stand on equal ground in terms of social status!! maybe this route will minimize conflict <33

probably not though, since noble yan is still, well, a yan.

- sunny!!

YANDERE SERVANT YANDERE SERVANT YANDERE SERVANT!!!! they dress you, they feed you, they tuck you in at night, they bathe you, they read to you, they are basically a second skin! raised together since birth, they love you and would do anything for you! getting you whatever you want, making whatever you want, killing potential suitors, all the normal things! ehehe just imagine how hard it would be for a yandere to be the one to always wash your back and hair for you and help you get dressed every day!!!

aaaa i love all of these ideas and i could NEVER grow tired of your long asks!!!! <3333333

[yesimwriting]

The Promise of Rain

A/n finally writing that Kaz Brekker x reader angsty-fluff where the reader is all sunshine-y and Kaz is dramatic as always lol 

Might make this a blurb series bc i like this dynamic so much lol

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y reader 

Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Kaz has a conversation with the reader (who’s a runaway princess) about what happens to people who stay near him. 

-- 

He once said that he didn’t believe in Saints. A moment later he conceded that perhaps they existed in order to appease Inej, but he was quick to tact on that if Saints existed they didn’t care about him. Inej and I had exchanged a look, she pleaded with me in silence to let him be. I opened my mouth despite the look in her eyes, but he had walked away before I could get any words out. 

He believes that the Saints don’t care about him, but as soon as he was dragged in by Jesper, bleeding and more broken than usual, it had started to rain. The rain is a promise. The rain is a sign that he will wake up. 

I tap a finger against the forgotten book on my lap, ignoring the dried blood I’ve been too anxious to wash off. When Kaz wakes up he’ll either scold me or partially tease me for waiting here by his bedside. The rain continues, cascading down invisible hope. 

“Save your prayers, even for you the Saints won’t regard me.” Kaz. His voice is raspier than it should be and his slight condescension is blighted by the tired flatness of it. But it’s him. He’s speaking. 

I tear my gaze away from the window, almost forgetting to tamper down my relief before finally looking at him. I haven’t known him long enough to see him in any level of defeat, but I’ve heard enough stories. The fictional exaggeration of those that fear him have made him seem so immortal. Some part of me must have internalized that because to see him like this, to see him so human is too intimate. 

“Don’t be so narcissistic.” Something about Kaz always leaves me feeling challenged, like each comment is some kind of dare. I adjust my posture. “I wasn’t praying because I knew you’d be okay.” 

His expression is unchanging. “So much faith in me?” 

There’s a soft edge to his words, an attempt to twist some kind of awkward denial out of me. Some days I don’t think Kaz enjoys anything and then other days I think he enjoys any misstep in my words. 

I shrug, pushing down the flood of relief still attempting to crawl out of my chest. “You’re always okay.” I scratch the back of my wrist idly. “It seems the safe bet.” 

“Don’t tell me you’ve been taking gambling advice from Jesper.” 

I half roll my eyes. “No--Jesper and I don’t play together anymore.” I let out an easy sigh. “Last time I beat him he bordered on a hissy fit.” There’s the slightest hint of upturning at the corners of his lips. “I should go tell Jesper and Inej you’re awake.” 

“I think you should change out of that dress first.”

He was more likable when I thought he might die at any second. “Wow--Kaz Brekker the professional stylist.” He has no right to judge the formal gown I’m in. Yes, my outfit is ridiculous, but I’m only wearing it because the Crows needed someone they knew at a merchant’s party for a part of some scheme they wouldn’t share the details of with me. “Yes, I’m aware that this dress is more tulle than anything else, but I’m only wearing it because I was helping you.” 

I wait for some retort about how he could have managed without my assistance or some kind of comment about how I didn’t need such a large dress to flirt and distract the guards as the Crows snuck into the merchant’s private office. “You fit in there more than you said you would.” 

From anyone else, I’d consider this an insult. “I was making an effort for the sake of your plans.” 

“I saw you before I went into the office, you knew the dances, the man took your hand.” 

That’s the weirdest observation I’ve ever witnessed someone reflect on. “That’s how those dances tend to work.” I don’t hide the confusion in my expression. “How much blood did you lose?” 

Kaz’s piercing gaze drops to the blanket on his lap. “Not a concerning amount.”

“Why do I feel like we have different definitions of ‘concerning’?” 

His eyes flit upwards, a partial smirk playing at his lips. “We define a lot of things differently.” He pauses, “You defined the life you slipped into so easily tonight as something you could never do.” 

“I can’t.” What is his problem? “One dance is different than an eternity of planning teas and marrying some man who only keeps me so I can rear his children.” 

“You’d end up marrying someone who could give you things.”

He better not be implying I should be having children. I’m seriously starting to hope he did lose a significant amount of blood because that would be some kind of explanation. “I don’t want anyone to be giving me children right now, but I guess your concern is ni--”

“No, no,” he screws his eyes shut for a long second, “You know what I meant.” I stay silent. “You’re technically a princess, y/n, you could have more than the Barrel.” There’s an odd silence as he pauses. “Someone like you should have more than the Barrel.” 

He speaks like his word is law. That’s the one habit of his I can never seem to forgive. Is Kaz telling me to go home? To go back to a mother who dreams of marrying me off and a father with a temper that often leads to violence? He may be Dirtyhands, but he is no one to tell me who to go back to. Not after I risked my anonymity to get him into that merchant’s office. 

I shut my book and stand in one swift motion. “I’m going to tell Jesper and Inej that you’re awake.”

“Y/n.” I ignore him. “Y/n.” Again, I ignore him, approaching the doorway. The rustling of sheets leaves me frozen, hand on the doorknob. “Y/n.” 

Without thinking, I turn on my heels while glaring. There’s no way he’s proud enough to have climbed out of bed wi--and he’s standing. Standing almost directly behind me. 

“Kaz Brekker, I am going to say this one time and one time only.” I keep my words measured and my tone flat. No room for argument. “You just had nine stitches put in near your heart, get your ass back in bed before that is no longer your only injury.” 

He pauses, lips pressed together into a tight white line. And then his mouth opens, pried open by an oddly light sound. Did he just--Did Kaz Brekker just laugh? He doesn’t laugh. I didn’t think he was physically capable, and now he laughs while I’m threatening him? I should hit him on principle alone and damn the consequences. 

“Did you--” I’m gaping at him with a rage I am not accustomed to. “Did you just laugh?” 

Kaz is quick to shut his mouth. “You did swear you’d get me to laugh one day.” 

Saints--now he chooses to have some kind of sense of humor. “Not while I was threatening you for being an idiot after saying my lineage means that I’m meant to be trapped in the life I desire least.” 

“I didn’t say that.” I raise an eyebrow. “You don’t deserve more than this because of your family, you deserve more than this because--” He cuts himself off with a sharp sigh. “Do you remember what happened the day we met?” 

He had wanted to return me to my father for the money. I had managed to convince him I could be more useful working for him without profit. The first day had been tense, I had sworn to myself that I would hate him forever. 

“I remember really hating you.” I remember thinking him beautiful despite his darkness. “I remember it started raining on our way here.” 

“You had a hood, but you pushed it off your head to feel the rain.” I don’t remember that because indulging in the rain is instinctual to me. “You looked at the rain, and you smiled--and then you saw a woman with a child and you took off your hood and gave it to them.” 

“What does that have to d--” 

“Watching that felt like intruding on an intimate moment I had no business knowing about, but it wasn’t that to you. That moment was nothing to you because that moment was who you are.” 

I don’t understand what he sees in something I can barely remember. “Kaz, what does that have to do with anything?” 

“I’m the monster that children believe live under their beds, I’m the bastard of the Barrel, I’m someone who gets blood on everything near them.” His gaze is harsher than I’ve ever seen it as he focuses on the dried blood splotched across my hands and arms. “And then I can’t even help you wash it off.” 

Those last words are the closest to broken I’ve ever heard him sound. “Kaz--”

“And you’re the girl who looks at the rain like it’s a gift from the Saints.” 

Is he implying what I think he’s implying? Even if I believed him such a source of evil, even if I felt like touch mattered that much--why would he care? I keep the much more frightening implication at bay as I exhale. Clarity will only make this conversation worse. “That doesn’t matter.” The words leave me in a low whisper. 

I stare at the ground until his silence is something I can no longer bear. Looking up as cautiously as possible, I take in his expression. I’ve never seen him look so--so enraged. “It doesn’t matter?!” He doesn’t bother hiding the fact that he’s practically seething. “I’ve viewed your presence here as temporary since you first came and despite that, when I saw you there…” The breath he lets out is practically pained. “When I saw what your life is meant to be--I didn’t want you to go.” 

The admission breaks something hard in my chest. “I never wanted to go.” My eyeline drops to the ground. “I didn’t want to go when you were trying to make me, I didn’t want to go when it was only for that evening.” I swallow a lump of emotion restricting my throat. “When you were bleeding out and Jesper had to carry you back here I let myself imagine what it’d be like if you died. And it hurt. It hurt so badly I asked myself if I would rather never know you than feel that pain.” 

“Would you?” His voice has gone hollow. 

I finally look up again. “No.” That word leaves me more bare than any physical touch ever could. 

“I stain everything that stays with me,” his voice has seamlessly shifted back to a tone meant for business, “Me wanting you to stay is more than enough reason for you to leave.”

My chest aches as emotions I’ll never be able to place a name to pound against my chest. “I’m a princess that ran away from her family and tried to befriend her kidnapper--you can’t possibly be narcissistic enough to believe that you’re what’s corrupted me.” 

“Y/n,” his voice is gravely again, the way it was when he first woke up. 

“No. What could you possibly think I’d say to that?” He’s insane--I’m not even sure I understand what he’s implying. “You know I’ll never agree with what you’re saying, so I have no idea what kind of reaction you’re looking for.”

“Maybe a genuine one.” 

The comment is so frustrating I can’t help but roll my eyes. The irony of Kaz Brekker asking for a genuine reaction to an emotionally heavy comment is almost laughable. “My genuine reaction is that you’re acting like an idiot because I don’t agree with anything you’re saying, but calling someone an idiot after they’ve been stabbed in the chest is a little insensitive so I can’t give you my genuine reaction.”

Kaz half-scoffs, “You don’t agree? Y/n--are you hearing me!? I want--I want you to stay.” Even angry, the admission warms me. He lets out a frustrated sigh. “More than that I want--” 

“What?” 

He shakes his head once. “I want something that can never be because I can’t give what needs to be given to get it.” 

“Kaz, if it involves me staying you don’t need to give anything for that because I don’t want to go.” 

“I-want-you-to-stay-with-me.” The admission is pried from him by some invisible force. He speaks so fiercely the sentence comes out as one angry word. 

He speaks so quickly a part of me is convinced that I misheard him. I watch him as he moves back to the bed, sitting down in a way so resigned I wonder if I blurted something out on instinct. 

“Kaz,” this is embarrassing, “I wanted to stay with you even when I wanted to hate you.”

I take in his measured expression, the only thing implying any kind of reaction is the way his eyebrows draw together. “Don’t say that, you don’t understand what that means.” 

“Why? Because you’re convinced you’ll ruin me?” 

“Y/n, we’d be together with a wall between us, keeping us from ever touching.” 

“I will tolerate any amount of damage you’re so convinced staying with you will bring, I will stay with you and never touch you and think nothing of it--but I will not stay with you just to stand in front of a wall.” I let out a tired breath. “I will stay with you but my one condition will be that you have to let me know you.” 

Kaz’s intense gaze wavers. “The first thing you’ll know is that me allowing you to stay is a testament to my greed.” 

I give him a sharp look, “It’s not greed if I want to be here.” 

He half sighs, leaning against a pillow as he turns to look out the window. “It’s raining,” he muses, “The Saints must have done that for you.” 

The sentiment is so soft my heart feels like it’s constricting. “I thought you didn’t believe in the Saints.” 

“If they exist, they do so for people like you.” 

I push past the emotion in my chest as I move to sit in the same chair I was in earlier. “I was honest when I said I didn’t pray for you.” I scratch the back of my arm, a coldness passing over me. “I didn’t pray because I knew you would be okay because you had to be.” 

“They wouldn’t have saved me,” he mumbles, “Or maybe they would have for you.” 

I shake my head once, staring at the rain with more fascination than before. 

--

General Taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship

[writingonsaturn]

Better Unsaid

a/n okay this has been all over the place!! it was originally going to be a blurb and darker and closer to smutty (so keep your eyes out for that??? lol), but then I made it softer and the concept got away from me and it got soooo much longer than expected lmao and i still dont love where it ended so maybe part 2?? i have the idea i just dont know lol 

summary: Reader is a princess and Anakin has been her guard during the most public season for the past two years (not the most logical thing but just go with it lol, it gets explained better in the fic) and after a near death experience the two are conveniently forced into a....

ONE BED TROPE ONE BED TROPE *cough cough* ONE BED TROPE WITH ONE PERSON HAVING TO WAKE UP THE OTHER BC THEYRE HAVING A NIGHTMARE,, :)))))))

  --

His smugness is the only thing about him I can consider ‘ugly’. And because I am so desperate to not have feeling for Anakin, the Jedi who has been assigned to protect me through coronation season (which lasts for most of winter), for the last two coronation seasons, I hold onto my distaste for that side of him. Which is why I suppress my laugh as he waits for my reaction with that confident smile. 

“Come on, that was funny.” 

Rolling my eyes, I let myself sit on my bed. I can’t tell if he’s actually funny or if my evening has been so boring that his sense of humor has started to become appealing to me due to comparison. In short, the suitor I was forced to spend an entire evening with lacked personality so much I’m starting to find Anakin funny.

“You’re much more entertaining than this evening’s suitor.” 

Anakin’s expression shifts slightly, his assured grin dropping slightly. “Another miss?” 

“You have no idea.” I relax slightly, taking a moment to be glad that I completed my father’s request and now I can just enjoy the time I have with Anakin. “I know my father’s desperate to make sure my marriage is useful for our people and that he worries about this selection process because he always thought my mother would be here to help, but sometimes I wish he wouldn’t rush it so much. It feels like all he wants me for is to marry me off in exchange of finance or weaponry or something diplomatic.” 

“You’re more than that.” His response is so soft I think I might have missed it if I needed it less. I curse myself for feeling so validated by him. His words shouldn’t mean anything to me. After all, he could easily just be saying that because agreeing with my father will just make me more unpleasant to be around. 

I smile politely while avoiding his eyes. I keep my hands on either side of me, fighting the urge to fidget. “Thank you, Anakin.” My words sound weak in my own ears, so I’m sure he notices my shift in mood. “I’m tired today, I think I’m going to go to bed early.” Normally, I’d be able to shrug off these kinds of things, but the beginning of Coronation Season makes me irritable. The anniversary of my mother’s death hits me harder each year. 

“Y/n.” My name comes out so velvety I can’t find it in myself to interrupt him. “You are more than someone meant to be used as some kind of royal currency, and I mean that as more than just a...friend.” 

I let his last word linger. We’ve tried so many titles that never seem to fit right. He’s the chosen one, one of the most powerful Jedi to exist, and the Jedi assigned to protect me each Coronation Season because that’s when my mother was assassinated. He’s my guard, but we’ve spent too many nights laughing together and talking about everything and anything. And I guess now he’s my friend, even though sometimes when he looks at me in a certain way or sits too close to me or reaches for my hand to guide me somewhere I can’t breathe right. 

“Anakin, you know I love when you’re here, even though sometimes you drive me insane. And I appreciate your kindness, but your words can’t change the truth. That’s how my father sees me and he’s not exactly wrong. I’m not a son, I haven’t been raised to lead an army or lead much, and--” 

“I’ve seen you in meeting after meeting, convention after convention. I’ve witnessed the way you handle real problems and I know how you care about your people. You’d make a great leader, you don’t need a husband to be valuable.” 

My chest swells, feelings I never let myself think about mixing with thoughts of Anakin that I’ve spent so long trying to avoid. “That settles it, you’re my favorite person.” 

He grins, the look warm enough to melt the odd lump in my throat. I fight down a smile as he steps forward. “And I wasn’t before?” 

“I take it back--your head’s big enough without the additional praise.” 

Rolling my eyes, I lean back slightly in order to recreate the distance he so easily destroyed. “And I thought you had finally warmed up to me, princess.” 

The use of my title makes me skeptical. The last time Anakin used it was when he was trying to ease me so that I’d walk around the palace garden so he had an excuse to do the same. It was beyond late and I was half asleep, but he had os much energy he was desperate and just needed to do one more thing. I felt bad that his schedule revolved so heavily around mine (and when he softens his eyes and says please, I’m left incapable of saying the word ‘no’) so I agreed. 

“What do you want?” 

Anakin dramatically clutches a hand over his heart. He throws his head back slightly as if he’s just taken a fatal blow. “When did you turn so cynical? I’ve been back for three days and I’m starting to believe you’re a different person now.” 

Yeah...he’s definitely getting ready to ask for something that’s more trouble than it’s worth. Then again, everything with him seems to be worth it in some capacity. Even if it’s just that one smile he gets when he’s truly content and doesn’t think anyone’s looking. 

“Mhm,” I mumble, still fighting a grin, “so you’re not going to ask me anything?” 

His lips part slightly as he exhales. I watch the way his eyes narrow at my victorious expression. “I don’t have anything to ask of you, but I do have a small request. A request so small you won’t have to do anything but say yes.”

Suspicious. Too easy. “You’re unbelievable.” 

“You just said I was your favorite person. Remember that.” 

I’m too tired for his coyness. I’d rather him make his ridiculous request now so that I can be in bed within the hour. Though I can’t pretend I don’t normally feel better after letting him drag me along on whatever ‘adventure’ he just needed to complete while also not letting me out of his sight. I used to tell him that I wouldn’t tell anyone if I wasn’t under supervision for an hour or two a day, but he dismissed the idea immediately. That’s been the cornerstone of everything. 

“What is it?” 

He sighs once, tilting his head slightly. The way his eyes soften tells me he’s already won at least half the battle. “They still haven’t caught the attempted--” Anakin pauses, something behind his eyes darkening. I know what he’s remembering. Last night, an assassin had gotten closer than they ever had. I had almost been shot in the garden, Anakin had barely pushed me to the ground in time. A fact he’s been beating himself up for since, especially considering that no one has been able to find my attempted killer yet. “They were so close to you. They were within palace limits and they disappeared like they never existed. Who’s to say they don’t work here and are waiting for the next moment you’re exposed? Who’s to say they aren’t here tonight, waiting for me to retire for the night?” 

I didn’t realize how my near death experience had been so personal to him. He, like everyone else, was beyond frantic after it happened. But my father put an end to verbal worry before it could truly begin. He said the best thing we could do was act like everything was fine as the assailant was searched for. Anakin hadn’t been particularly cheery after my father instructed the guards to focus their search on known enemies instead of prioritizing venting the staff closest to me. I comforted him as best as I could, but he didn’t feel like speaking about it and I had to worry about the suitor meeting my father wouldn’t let me cancel. 

“Anakin, you’re right next door to me.” I have to fight the urge to reach for him. “I was fine because of you, and I will be fine because of you.” 

He sighs once, his expression not easing. “And if the person is silent? The attacker could easily work in the palace, but no one wanted to direct the search inwards.” His words are more strained than I’ve ever heard them be. “I think it’d be smart for me to stay in here. I know you’ve refused having a guard stay in your room or outside your door, but...” Anakin sighs. “Your safety would be more assured.” 

Him staying in my room? The only line I’ve ever been allowed to draw, and I’m actually considering letting that go. If he seemed even slightly less sad, I wouldn’t even consider it. It’s not a good idea. I’m already too attached to him. “Anakin--” 

“I’d feel more assured.” 

Damn him. Stupid, extremely sweet Anakin who makes saying no to him impossible. I stretch my arm forward, letting my hand squeezes his forearm gently. “There’s no reason to not feel assured.” He doesn’t ease, the cloudiness behind his eyes remains stubborn. “You’re still worried.” No reaction, the haze that’s taken him isn’t letting go. “Fine--but tell no one or my father is going to take to posting guards at my door every night.” 

...I guess there are worse ways to spend a night. Which is kind of a problem since I’m trying to...enjoy Anakin less. Ugh, I even sound dumb in my head. “I promise, princess.” 

Ugh, he’s adorable. “You’re intolerable.” I stand from he foot of my bed and pull back the covers on my bed. He doesn’t reply, something dark still playing for him. I watch him move to face the door. Wait--is he doing what I think he’s doing? “No, you’re not going to stand there all night. You need sleep.” He has the audacity to give me an annoyed look. “I already didn’t want to do this so now you have to listen to my conditions.” 

He raises an eyebrow, his lips pressing together oddly. He’s trying to gauge something from my expression, perhaps he’s looking for buttons to press to get his way. I guess I look as stubborn as I feel because instead of arguing he just sits on the floor. What? I watch him cautiously, trying to figure out if this is some weird argument trick. 

“What are you doing?” 

“What you asked.”

And just like that I’ve put myself in a position that I will no doubt regret terribly the second common sense returns to me. There’s no way to deny that Anakin and I are closer than we probably should be. We’ve felt like friends first since the day we first met. I can’t think of any reason to not offer to let him sleep in my bed except those stupid budding feelings I refuse to label. 

It’s not like I actually like him. I can’t--I’m going to be married to some nobleman and he’s prohibited from ever forming attachments. I’m not even sure if we’re allowed to be friends. Having actual feelings for him would be so, so pointless. It would just lead to heartache and the ruining of the one genuine relationship I have. I’m just a tiny bit confused right now because he’s objectively really attractive and he’s always there for me. Always there to make a joke after a particularly rough meeting. Always there to offer me a supportive smile. Always there to humble me when I teeter on acting like my father. 

Anyone’s heart would flutter at that, so it doesn’t mean anything. And if it does, I need to squash any budding feelings now before I mess things up. Which is why I should keep him at arm’s length until I get it together. But is that fair to him? And what if doing that is making things worse? What if it’s just reinforcing the idea of having feelings? 

This is ridiculous. I’m going to get over this if it kills me. It’s just a bed and it’s only sleeping. I’m meant to be able to lead an entire union and I can’t sleep next to someone and act normal?” “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” 

The second the words leave my mouth I regret it all. What’s wrong with me? Did I seriously think I’d be okay?

I hear his soft exhale, “I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse places than on your marble floor.” 

His voice sounds so weighted I can’t help but feel bad for not noticing that he’s still bothered. Whether he’s upset about his near miss or the fact that my father didn’t take his advice, I don’t know. But something’s wrong. The easy thing to do would be to just let him sleep it off. The smart thing to do would be to leave him alone until tomorrow. 

I think of all the times that I’ve been upset and Anakin had refused to let me go to sleep angry or sad or overwhelmed. “I know, but it’s really not a big deal. It’s not like we don’t know each other. I mean, last Coronation Season you buttoned me into more gowns than my handmaid. And I owe you for saving me from one of the worst suitors I’ve ever had.” 

“I’m starting to think we need to develop some kind of signal.” 

The tiny bit of lightness that’s returned to his voice makes all of my internal struggle feel worth it. “You always seem to know.” 

“That’s because when you’re reaching your limit, that one line appears between your eyebrows.”

I didn’t realize I had such a tell. I try to remember the way that the suitor drawled on and on about how amazing he was and how he couldn’t wait for the day he had a bride to bear his children and plan (tedious) social events. My hand moves to my forehead, trying to feel the crease Anakin mentioned. Can everyone tell when I’m growing tired? Am I that transparent? 

Anakin’s slight laugh steals my attention. He’s facing me again, his elbow holding his head up on the foot of my bed. “What are you doing?” 

“I don’t--I don’t think i get a crease between my eyebrows when I’m irritated.” 

I hear him stand. I don’t realize he’s approaching me until he’s so close I could touch him without even needing. to stretch. “No, when you’re irritated you raise your eyebrows slightly, because that’s when you’re at your most sarcastic.” 

“Really?” 

The corner of his mouth tugs upwards. “Just like that.” I force myself to keep my expression blank. “When you’re reaching your limit, your eyebrows crease here.” His finger taps the space between my brows so gently I almost don’t realize what he’s doing. “And when you’re trying not to laugh--which is often, because you refuse to admit that I’m funny--you press your lips together in a way that forms a dimple here.” The knuckle of his pointer finger brushes against the bottom of my cheek. 

I bite my tongue to fight the warmth spreading across my face. “I didn’t realize i was so transparent.”

“I can’t always tell what you’re thinking.” 

“I’ll take it.” Maybe if I was less tired, I’d argue a little more. “You know you’re not that difficult to read either.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, I can tell when you’re just being stubborn for the sake of it. I can see it in your eyes and you’re doing it right now.” 

His expression harshens slightly before softening. “Y/n--” 

“I’m not wrong.” 

He sighs once, stepping back. I watch him pace around my bed before taking a seat on the edge of my other side of the bed. “Are you happy now?” 

“Happy that I won? Absolutely.” 

Anakin halfheartedly glares at me. “Careful, add a crown and a robe that trails down a throne and I’d feel like I was speaking to your father.” 

“Careful, another side comment like that and I’ll ‘accidentally’ kick you off the bed in the middle of the night.” 

“Not if I kick you off the bed first.” 

I trace a thoughtless pattern on the fabric of my bedsheets. “What are you? Twelve?” 

“I’m older than you.” 

“Barely.” I continue the thoughtless pattern tracing as I fight the sleep from my eyes. “Your comebacks are usually more creative than that.” 

He exhales, relaxing slightly as he rests his back against a pillow. “I’m tired, like you claimed to be.” His eyes flutter slightly, a bit of his exhaustion showing. “Go to sleep.” 

I should. I’m too old to think I can put off a tomorrow I don’t want by just staying up. This is stupid. I’m too old to think I can put off the anniversary of my mother’s death by going to bed. She had been taken from us on castle grounds, killed by a revolutionist who viewed my mother as a class traitor. I still remember the way she slumped to the ground, her blood staining the snow beneath her. I remember the way the guards were so busy chasing her killer no one thought to keep me away from the body. 

“Y/n?” 

I scratch the back of my arm in hopes of banishing my thoughts. “Yes?” 

“You’re being quiet.” 

“You said to go to sleep, that tends to be a quiet thing.” 

I can feel his eyes on me. “Since when do you listen to me?” Not trusting myself to actually reply, I only offer him a hum of acknowledgement. “I know you’re not half asleep.” 

Folding my hands on my lap, I avoid his gaze. “It’s tomorrow.” 

I don’t know why I trust him to understand my vague response, but I do. His silence stretches over us like a thin blanket on a cold night. Maybe he doesn’t understand what I’m implying. I can always correct him tomorrow, when my eyelids are no longer as heavy as my heart. The more seconds that pass in total silence, the more I think that maybe he’s fallen asleep. 

I wouldn’t be surprised, Anakin has seemed tired recently, like some additional weight he won’t share with anyone has been thrust onto his shoulders. A small part of me rolls in guilt. I need to be a better friend, just because I’m suddenly a little too aware of him doesn’t mean I can shrug him off and ignore him. 

My hand almost flinches away from the feeling of something surprisingly warm touching my pinky. When I realize that it’s just Anakin and that the contact was probably accidental, I force myself to ease. It’s not like we’ve never touched before, I don’t understand why I’m making it weird. Sitting in my bed in the dark doesn’t change anything. His hand turns slightly, pressing into mine a little more assuredly. Biting my tongue, I turn my hand slightly, exposing my palm. And just like that, our fingers intertwine. 

“She would have been proud of you.” His voice comes out so low I barely register the words. 

The words shouldn’t mean much to me--he never knew my mother and has no way to know what she wanted me to be.--and yet I find comfort in them. I smile, turning my head towards him. “You didn’t even know her.” 

He rolls his eyes slightly, relaxing further before squeezing my hand once. “Who wouldn’t be proud of you? You’re kind and smart and decent to be around when you’re not telling me what to do.” 

My heart swells in my chest so much I’m surprised it doesn’t burst. Could he be cuter? “Yeah...now I’m sure you’re my favorite person.” 

“Now you’re sure?” 

The smugness in his voice has me rolling my eyes. “Don’t make me regret saying that.” 

“Maybe in the morning,” he says easily, “now go to sleep. There’s nothing worse than escorting you from meeting to meeting while you’re tired.” 

“I’m not that bad.” Even in this darkness, I can make out the way he raises an eyebrow. “Shut up--I’m going to sleep, but not because of you.” 

He lets out a slight huff. “You’re impossible.” 

The desire to respond to his comment is not enough for me to win the fight against the weight of my eyelids. The moment my eyes shut, I feel powerless to anything that isn’t sleep. I let myself fall into a weightless sleep, my only tether being the Anakin’s fingers around mine. 

--

A distant noise yanks me from my sleep. I’m too drowsy to do anything but register the sound. I hear another similar...whine? cry? I can’t tell and I’m too asleep to figure it out. I almost fall asleep again, but a third distressed sound keeps me from it. I wipe my eyes lazily with the back of my hand as I try to sit up. 

Squinting, I make out a figure on my bed. It takes me a moment to remember Anakin and how I fell asleep. Our hands are still together and no light is peering through my window so it can’t be that long since I fell asleep. Another disgruntled sound carries itself throughout the room. I shift slightly, leaning over Anakin cautiously. 

Golden brown curls are beginning to stick to his forehead and his eyebrows are drawn together sharply. He’s having a nightmare.  I shift even further forward before cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder before squeezing him gently. 

“Anakin,” I whisper, “it’s not--it’s not real.” His eyebrows draw together even more harshly. I shake him a little more stubbornly. “Anakin, wake up--you’re having a ni--”

 My forearm is grabbed so suddenly I barely register it before I feel my back shoved into my mattress. I blink twice. His dark eyes are frantic and the look on his face is far from the gentle, easygoing expression I’m used to. He’s breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling from above me. I swallow a slight panic and something I don’t understand as I try to keep my eyes on his face and my thoughts away from how close he is. Anakin pries his fingers from my forearm one by one until only his palm is touching me. 

“Y/n, I--” 

“It’s okay.” Honestly, I’m more worried about his uneven breathing than the way he grabbed me. I can’t imagine everything he’s been through or how justified his nightmares are. Anakin moves his hand away from me. I don’t sit up until he’s off of me and sitting with his back against my headboard. “It’s okay--I just--you were having a nightmare and I thought I should wake you.” He doesn’t react. I turn my body further, keeping my back straight. Anakin doesn’t move, and the longer he stays still, the more I feel like I should say something else. “Do you want talk about it? Or do--do you want to talk about something else? Or go to sleep? Or get some water? Or--” The far off look behind his eyes silences me. I scoot forward slightly. “You’re okay, Anakin, I promise.” 

His head turns at that, his eyes searching mine for something I don’t understand. “I thought...” He cuts himself off by swallowing once. 

I shift a little more, trying to find anything normal in his expression. “Thought what?” 

Anakin’s hand is on my arm so quickly I don’t even register his movement. I let his fingers press into my skin. He’s holding onto me like I’m a figment of a dream and he’s beginning to wake up. “I thought I’d failed.” He exhales, the sound heavy. “Failed you and that you’d--I  thought I had lost you.” 

A lump rises in my throat, thick and unmoving. Cautiously, I place my hand over the one still gripping my shoulder like a lifeline. “You didn’t. Nothing happened, it was just a dream.” 

His gaze falls to the ground before he repeats the last of my words. “Just a dream.” There’s a hollowness to his voice I don’t understand. 

I exhale, carefully running my thumb over his knuckles. “Yes.” He doesn’t say anything but his expression hardens again. I let us sit there like that for a long minute. “I promise.” 

“You can’t promise things like that.”

I sigh, unsure of where to go from here. “Bad dreams are only bad dreams.” He doesn’t reply. “I think you should try to get some more sleep.” 

Anakin is unresponsive. I shift back, but before I can transition from almost being on top of him to just sitting next to him, he pulls on my arm to keep in place. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.” 

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.” 

“You almost died today, y/n. I was right there and if I had been a second later--” 

“But you weren’t.” He doesn’t ease. “You were there and I was fine. Don’t torment yourself over what could have been. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” 

“If anything ever happened to y--” 

“It’s not going to,” I whisper, ignoring the way his hold on my arm tightens even further, “Especially this time a year when I have a pretty good gau--” 

He tilts his head slightly, eyebrows drawing together and a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Pretty good? Really?” 

“Someone needs to watch your ego, chosen one.” This time when he tries for a smile, the look has some strength behind it. Relief pools in my stomach. “Now get some sleep, tomorrow’s a busy day and when you’re sleepy you’re beyond irritable.”  

Anakin lets me pull away enough to lay down, but he doesn’t follow. Not for a long second. When he does, his movements are impossibly rigid. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as carefully as I can manage. 

“Y/n?” 

I regret turning my head immediately. I didn’t realize how close he was. It would take no effort from me to make our lips meet. Wait--why am I thinking of that? I’m not allowed to think of stuff like that...especially not about him. 

“Yes?”

He lets out a breath before moving his hand. I don’t understand his hesitation until I feel his hand cupping my cheek gently. “What if next time I’m not enough? What if next time I lose you because I’m not strong enough?” 

I never thought my death would be such a personal thing to him. Sure, I knew that we had some kind of bond, some kind of friendship, and that my death would bring sadness. But I never imagined I’d matter enough to him that thoughts of my death would be frightening enough to slip into his subconscious and become a thing of nightmares. 

“You are enough. Nothing is going to happen to me and if it does it’s not going to be because of you.” Anakin’s lips press together in a way that implies serious uncertainty. His thumb brushes across my cheek so unexpectedly I almost ask him what he’s doing. The intensity behind his eyes is enough to burn me. “Was your dream really that bad?” 

He lets out an uncertain breath as his eyebrows draw together. I don’t miss the way his jaw clenches. “It’s more than the dream. I...y/n, princess,” he tacts on, a hint of humor returning to him, “you’re more than a mission to me.” 

The admission is so soft I can’t help but smile. “I know, Anakin, we’re--” 

“You’re more than a friend to me.” I don’t know if my blood freezes in my veins or if my lungs don’t contract when they should or if my heart literally skips a beat, but I know something in me completely stops at his words. “I--” 

“Don’t say it.” I don’t know how I managed to cut him off so sharply and I’m a little disappointed when I do, but it’s the right thing to do. Thought of the code that’s so important to him have clouded half the immense shock and joy swelling in my chest. “What you’re trying to say...I um, I want to say the same.” I try to drop my gaze but he tilts my head up slightly with his hand. “But we shouldn’t, you know that.” 

"You want to us to pretend that nothing’s different? You want me to escort you from meetings with one suitor to the next every Coronation Season until you’re married off?” 

“No, I’m not saying that. The point is that I’m not saying anything.” His eyebrows draw together in uncertainty. “Isn’t it enough for now, for both of us to just know? If we say it...that could mean bad things for you. And I don’t want to be a bad thing for you.” 

“You could never be.”

It’d be so easy to believe him. To believe him and to let him say what I never imagined I’d be able to hear and damn the consequences of tomorrow. “Can we just refrain from verbally saying anything until you’re sure?” 

“I’m sure right now. I’ve been sure since the first time we ever walked in the garden together. The night after the first Coronation Ball I escorted you to.” 

I remember that night well. The way he hadn’t scolded me for needing air or taking off my uncomfortably high heels to walk in the grass. “If you mean it, you won’t say it yet. I refuse to get in the way of what you’re meant for.”

His thumb runs my cheek entirely, stopping at the corner of my mouth. “Are you capable of not disagreeing with me?” 

Rolling my eyes slightly, I place my hand over his. “Probably not.” 

Anakin exhales, his playful irritation clear in the sound. “You’re impossible when you’re tired.” 

“I am not tired.” 

“I can see the sleep in your eyes.” 

“I can see it in yours too.” 

He pauses, eyebrows drawn together cautiously. “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”

He must be more tired than I thought if he’s compromising with me so quickly. “Deal.” 

Neither of us close our eyes for a long second, we just watch each other with wide eyes. It still doesn’t feel like he’s eased, but he’s come back to me so much more than he was earlier. I’ll make sure to check how he’s feeling in the morning. The first morning after we’ve...I don’t know. 

I’m trying really hard not to get excited because anything that’s been not said could be taken back so easily. That’s the point--but it’s hard not to let my heart get ahead of my rationality. I’ll just take the good for what it is for now and tomorrow we can figure out the rest. Even though he’s not allowed to form attachments and my father really wants to marry me off to foreign royalty.

Tomorrow. This can begin to be solved tomorrow. My eyes shut and I let myself roll fully onto my back. The second I’m comfortably settled, I feel Anakin shift against the bed. I’m too tired to open my eyes until I feel a weight placed against my chest. 

I open my eyes on instinct, less surprised than I should be when I see Anakin’s head resting against my chest. Before I can speak, I feel his arm rest against my side. “Anakin,” I breathe, my hand moving to smooth his hair out of his face the way I’ve wanted to for so long. “What did we just talk about?” 

“You said not to say anything,” he mumbles comfortably, “I’m not saying anything.” ...It is kind of the ideal compromise. Especially since I’m too tired to find reason and he feels so warm. “I can feel you overthinking. Go back to smoothing my hair before I have to rise and stand at your door so that your handmaid comes to wake you. Something tells me she’d be glad for the excuse to get rid of me.” 

That might be the most dramatic thing I’ve ever heard him say. Selma is the most patient woman in the palace. “Selma would never report anything involving me, I can’t believe you don’t like her. She’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met.”  

“She’s the one that doesn’t like me,” he says, “she always watches me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m planning on stealing you away.” 

Too tired to fight my smile, I go back to smoothing his hair out with my fingers. After a moment, he lets out an exhale that relaxes his entire body. “Goodnight, princess.” 

“Goodnight.” The word is barely a mumble as I feel sleep tug against me for the second time tonight. 

It’s strange, but my excitement doesn’t diminish my tiredness, it just makes the prospect of rest feel so much fuller. Safer. Because there’s so much to sort out and grieve but it’s okay, because we have the time and everything feels okay because Anakin is here, right beneath my fingertips. 

[cinnamonest]

Rewriting my Diluc housewife thoughts but I saved it in my notes this time, but I made it infinitely more sexist than it already was before bc 1) I was in the kink mood and 2) the spirits of writing gods possessed my body and told me that is the way all Diluc content should be, so, this is major 1950s-ish housewifey horrendously misogynistic shit, you've been warned. Like, even *I* looked back over this and was like "wow this is vile" which is kinda saying something for me so, putting the nastier parts under cut for the sake of my followers' eyes ----------- I was thinking about the post a while back about Diluc reforming a criminal darling - a thief around Mondstadt that's been on a crime spree and of course he catches wind of that and goes to defeat the perpetrator (surprisingly very easy? How is a thief this weak?) and haul the bastard off to jail except... What's this? Said criminal is actually just some girl and not a gross ugly bastard?? This changes things. Clearly, this was not an intentional act of malice or greed, but rather, he, master of criminal psychology™, rationalizes that the world is far too cruel for unwifed girls that have no one to depend on, a cold terrible place, so you must have been driven to these actions out of desperation. You had no provider, no caretaker, which are needs. How could you possibly be expected to provide a means of living for yourself?? This is just the consequences of the unfairness of the world. However, things all work out in the end. You need to be taken care of and restrained from these self-destructive choices by force (since you cannot recognize how bad it is, not that you're expected to, it's natural that you have poor perception, that's why you need a man to make choices for you), and he needs a wife. This solution benefits all parties.

He is, however, a rather dense man, and doesn't really think to like, tell you that. Or tell you anything. He's too lost in thought in his planning -- gonna get you new clothes to replace your ragged ones, gonna have to rearrange the guard schedule so they can watch the house better, all that -- and just kinda slings you up and over his shoulder without a word. Ignores you kicking and hitting because it doesn't really hurt or anything, you're too weak for that. Just says he’ll explain in detail later, but don’t worry, you’re not going to jail. He’s just taking you home. This is better, he says. Stop struggling so much, what, you want to go to jail? No? Then be still. And you don't recognize that it's good for you yet, but again, that's expected. In a better time or society, you would have been married off sooner, and prevented from ever falling victim to your own decision making to begin with, but the world isn't perfect and you can be forgiven for it. You're not responsible for your own actions since you can't comprehend them. It's frustrating and he sighs a bit over it, but that's just the way things are. You'll be happy in the long run, even if it takes a while, you're naturally programmed for a better lifestyle he has in mind. And, really, he's glad you weren't married off, because if you were then he never would have had you, so even though it was technically unideal, the stars align and the universe works out things perfectly. It's all the more of a sign that this was fate and you were made for him. The issue is that a hardened criminal darling is... Not the ideal candidate for a housewife. To some extent, he's right that the criminal underworld hardens a person, you can't survive in that realm if you're submissive or weak willed. And criminal darling certainly is not. Loud mouthed, opinionated, argumentative, bad attitude, defiant and aggressive and very much unafraid. A complete loose cannon. All very unfavorable traits. Worst of all, very much unaccepting of and ungrateful for the privilege of a second chance and being graciously granted the opportunity for a better life. Lots of bad behaviors.

The cursing is a problem. It's not very... Wife-like. Gives off a bad image, you know. Especially since said cursing is usually directed at him at a very loud volume with a snarl and getting all up in his face to tell him he's fucking insane and a bastard. To be honest, the worst part isn't the words themselves, it's the fact that you are so unafraid to be defiant and so fiery that is the primary issue. You disobey very deliberately. Little acts of pettiness. Being mean to the maids who are so graciously trying to teach you how to cook (at his direction), since you had no idea how to (and nearly burned his house down as a result). The first time you were mean and bitter and that's how you learned they report back to him about how you behaved. It did not go over well.  

Intentionally burning food. Once you somehow found a bottle in a cabinet somewhere in the mansion and put rat poison in his food, made him sick. Muttering a sarcastic whoops and shoving a vase off to crash and shatter on the floor. Early on you refused to wear all the nice dresses you were generously given and even tried to go through his clothes to find something to wear, which was kinda cute since it was way too big, but still. You mutter and grumble under your breath every time you're given a command. The most important thing is sex, though. You know, your job. One of your only real responsibilities. He has a very stressful job. It's only reasonable that he can expect to come home to his sweet, loving little wife with open arms and equally open legs. You've probably fucked around a bit right? For money, for favors, for intel, you get the idea, lots of ties to criminal gangs to earn their trust. So, if you do it for something so insignificant, how much more does he deserve it for taking care of you fully? You should -- and you will, with time -- drop to your knees the second he walks through the door. But instead, sigh, you fight and whimper and cover your face in shame after you spasm and cum, and worst of all, you actively try not to cum. You shouldn't feel ashamed of that, it's good, he says. Sure, you may not be officially married (since the laws of Mondstadt unfortunately require that whole "consent" thing for both parties, ugh), but, he's basically your husband right? So, it's perfectly normal, you're supposed to cum for him. Maybe once you're all knocked up you'll be even hornier, and less shameful. He actually wasn't expecting you to be this bad. Incredibly stubborn and prideful. Literally the exact opposite traits of a good wife, you know, submissive and humble and obedient. He kinda thought that it was like... automatic. That once he just kinda shoved you in the right environment, it would be like flipping a switch right? Apparently not. But no matter. It can be changed, with effort and time. You're worth it. See, you're not supposed to backtalk him, you're supposed to smile and do what you're told without question. You're supposed to submit and obey, and instead you seem hellbent on pissing him off out of spite - and frankly, you're doing a good job of achieving that. Every time you defy him it sparks an irritation he can't describe, worse than he'd normally get from just being snarled at by anyone - no, something about being disrespected by someone he feels is beneath him makes him much, much angrier than it would be if it were, say, one of the business partners who get snappy and argumentative very frequently. He could break you and it would be easy, don't you know that? You stomp and you hit him and you yell, but clearly you process that you have to look up to look him in the eye, you have to realize how much smaller you are. You hit him even though you have to know by now he'll just grab your wrists, and like always you'll be unable to even hope of pulling out of his grip, the strength difference between you two is so great. There's no way you don't realize all that, yet you continue to behave the way you do. The inferiority is so blatantly obvious, but you act as if it's not. He spends a lot of time contemplating the source of this, the cause of your behavior, it occupies his thoughts. It's like... You resent him for something. Could it possibly be kidnapping you and keeping you as a glorified sex slave? No, no, that's not it. It's something else, yes. Are you just bitter about being inferior in, you know, every conceivable way? Is that it? The criminality for you was compensation to make you feel powerful, perhaps. You have a complex. You resent him not for anything he's done, but because you know he's stronger and smarter and generally superior to you. You don't want to accept it. You're prideful when you shouldn't be. You're supposed to be humble and content with your inferiority. Yeah, that's it. You just have a negative perception of the lifestyle you're supposed to have. Maybe some event in your life or someone else warped your view of things. You don't realize how happy you'd be if you just accepted it. Yes, if you submitted to it, if you swallowed your pride and actually accepted your place, you'd find you would be very happy, you just don't know that. Or maybe, your brain can't grasp something like that. After all, that's the reason you're supposed to be the submissive party of the two of you, you're not as bright or perceptive (says the densest man alive). You have to be... Led. Guided. So he says it. He is, again, a dense man. He does not really think about the fact that perhaps blatantly confronting you with the epiphany he thinks he's had and specifically using the words inferior and weak and small is probably not going to make you very happy. You get bitchy and bratty and try to hit him and he sighs because, see, this is exactly what he's talking about. You reacting the way you did only confirms you do have a complex, he says. So, how could he go about... reconditioning? He is not the most creative man, but thankfully it's a rather easy problem to solve. If you're reminded of a reality often enough, you have to accept it. For starters, using physical strength against you. Maybe that will metaphorically open your eyes. Holds you down in place when you're hitting him like you do, firmly bending you over a counter or whatever and just holding you in place. Come on, try to get up, try to push him off. You snarl and claw at the marble and push will all your strength, but he doesn't budge, not until you politely apologize and ask him to let you up. If you're being difficult and not going where he tells you to, well, he can just sling you up over his shoulder and carry you. If you're fighting being fucked he can just flip you over and press your face into the mattress and hold you still, and you can't help but take the brutal reality that you're basically a ragdoll to him, that is, physically overpowering you doesn't even require trying. It helps to knock you down a peg, remind you of your place and maybe get you to swallow that pride a bit. The orgasms and fucking have a similar effect -- every time you can't help but feel like he has a power over you. And really, he kinda does. Every time you lay there still panting and shivering in aftershock, the shame comes swarming in, all the obscene noises you made and the way you came undone under the person that treats you like property. Even if the rational part of you knows better, you can't help but feel like in a way it's like you let him win, allowed yourself to more or less prove him right. Maybe you'll learn better if you're in more humiliating positions. Stuck getting rammed from behind, hand forcing your face down and ass up. Actually correcting bad behaviors requires more direct approaches, so he takes the... Old fashioned route. After all, it's pretty much guaranteed to work. You don't listen to words, you don't listen to reason, but you'll certainly listen to handprints and belt welts on your ass. It's the first time you really, truly break, and that brings him a lot of satisfaction. The first time you really cry and whimper and beg and apologize so profusely it feels like you mean it for once. Granted, for a while you just persist in your bad behaviors and even try to run when you see him sigh and take the belt off, but you never get far. And, most notably, you actually fix your behaviors, with enough reminders. At one point, the next time you start being bad and get to bitching and snarling and putting up a fight, you catch the look on his face and, for once, you shut your mouth and look down and mumble an apology by default. See, you're learning. Speaking of, you still have that major issue with backtalking him. You're supposed to submit to him and acknowledge his authority over you. So he gets firm. Grabs you by the jaw and forces you to look him in the eye and reminds you that you will *not* get an attitude with him. You *will* show some respect. You say yes sir and no sir and do what you're told. And if you forget, he can give you a reminder, if you want that. But you shake your head with fear in your eyes, say you don't want that. It makes you mad. You want to lash back, but you swallow your pride and mutter a fine - before realizing the mistake, violating the rule you were just reminded of. You stammer out a yes sir but it's already too late. He has to control himself too, not let his anger get the better of him. He speaks in a way that isn't snarling and mean, but rather firm, cold, a flat tone that asserts dominance and demands respect. But... still wants you to like him. So he has to be nice, too. After all, you'll learn better if you're rewarded for being good, right? So you can get little rewards. Words of affirmation. A pat to the head. He'll buy you something you want, let you drink a bit (since, as a thief, of course, you had a problem with that before you came home, but that had to be corrected too, since drunkenness isn't very befitting). And sooner or later he does have a really good little wife. He's proud of you. You smile and obey commands without complaining. He can come home every day, and rather than hearing a long report from the staff about how much trouble you caused that day, instead you have food and smiles and sweet affection waiting on him, you hug him when he walks through the door. You're polite and sweet to the various business partners and guests that come through -- you don't speak to them without permission though, of course, and you look down at the ground so you don't make eye contact with another man. People say he's lucky and how they wish they had a wife that was so outwardly affectionate to them as you are to him, always clinging to him physically. And you don't complain or every object to anything, you just smile and say yes and do it. It makes him happy in a weird way he can't quite articulate. A warm swell of pride, a feeling of success. You have vague memories of a time when you were breaking into houses just to scrape by, not knowing when you'd eat next, not knowing where you'd sleep. It's kind of a fuzzy memory now. You don't have to worry about those things anymore, and you're a lot happier this way.

[favberrys]

I'm bored and in a kkg brainrot mood, so i'm just gonna rant about my opinions of kakegurui ships and i will make some headcanons:

Kirasaya

Ok i had to start with them bc they're just too iconic, i think they have one of the most interesting and complex dynamics in kkg, they really got me obsessed with them, it's probably my number one kakegurui ship and the reason i started watching the show and reading the manga. Honestly yeah their relationship has some power imbalance, since sayaka is kirari's secretary, and is probably disfunctional, but contrary to what some ppl say kirasaya is not abusive, kirari never physically or emotionally abuses sayaka throughout the story. Anyway they're a 10/10, peak lesbian yearning, if they don't kiss at least one i will jump the author. Probably one of my fav ships ever, i think they're made for each other and i can't see kirasaya with anyone else, they're just so good together and their chemistry is >>>>>>

Yumary

Ok this one is kinda an unpopular opinion bc most people like yumary, but honestly i can't get invested into it, there's something in this ship that doesn't make my heart go "fuck yeah they should be gfs". Personally i don't ship yumeko with anyone bc i can't imagine her in a relationship since her main thing is being a compulsive gambler, her existence revolves around it and she forms relationships when they're useful for her gambling games. I think yumary could be friends with benefits for some time, but after a while mary would probably break it off because i don't think she can handle a sexual/romantic relationship with yumeko and after a while it would make her go nuts. A friendship between them is already messy and complicated and honestly i don't think they are compatible that way. Yes they have chemistry and there's probably some mutual attraction but to me it's a no. Also can cishet dudes stop fetishizing this ship ? My vote is 6/10, mostly bc mary doesn't seem much physically comfortable with yumeko, idk mary just seems off with her in that sense and i prefer them as gambling partners or friends.

Meariri

I honestly love this ship, especially after reading the manga, they have such an great dynamic, i think they both care about each other, they have chemistry and i think they're compatible and that their personalities compliment each other, mary is often loud and aggressive and passionate while ririka is more closed off and quiet, they're like fire and ice and this case i think the saying "opposite attract" works with them. Mary counts on ririka and i love the fact that she is so comfortable with her physically (mary is almost always the one to initiate the contact, holding her hand, touching her head, etc) and ririka gets inspired by mary to be her own person and chase her goals. Plus they're really cute together, aesthetically i find them the most attractive couple, i'll give them a solid 9/10

Itsukaede

Lmao i don't even know if this is the correct ship name for itsuki x kaede, ok i don't hate it and i think they could work as a couple, it's not my cup of tea bc m/f ships bore me, but i like their relationship, they have the kind of old married couple dynamic that always works. 6/10.

Ryomeko

I can see it happening, i don't ship it, but i don't mind it either, i'm kinda neutral about ryota x yumeko, but i think he's one of the ppl who care about yumeko the most in that academy (with also mary ofc), the ship is boring bc ryota is bland (he's a good guy don't get me wrong and he defo doesn't deserve the hate he gets) and as i said previously i don't ship yumeko with anyone. Sorry i gotta give it 5/6 out of 10

Yumedari

Ok i love midari but just like yumeko, i don't ship her with anyone bc i see her as someone who's too much unstable for relationships, but i know that canonically she loves/likes/is attracted to yumeko so i don't hate this ship, i think it's decent, the only problem is that yumeko hates midari. Still i think that since they're the most insane mfs in that school somehow this ship could work. 6/10

Yuridari

Again midari in my eyes is kinda unshippable, but this ship is not bad at all, they would have that kind of bickering married couple dynamic like itsuki and kaede, i like it but it doesn't do much for me. 7/10

Ryomary

Jsjssjsksk i looked the name of mary x ryota's ship on wiki so if it sounds weird it's bc i don't know their ship name and i have looked at the first site google gave me. This ship is hard no, mainly bc ryota is very bland and i consider mary a lesbian (i read that she is a canon lesbian but idk if it's confirmed by the author, let's say lesbian mary is just my hc) so shipping her with men feels like a hate crime to me, mary is for the girls only, 4/10.

Tsumary

They are kind of cute together right ? I think they're adorable, tsuzura is mary's first love and i think that someone like her would make mary very happy. I still haven't finished kkg twin, so my opinion on tsuzura is incompleted and it might change, i don't hate her but i find her character a little basic/boring so even though this ship is cute it doesn't make me fall in love with them. 7/10 bc probably also tsuzura had feelings for mary and they have a healthy dynamic, you can see they love each other.

Midasaya

I enjoy this crackship, i know that they both like different people but i headcanon that they were together during middle school or that midari had at least a small crush on sayaka during that time, before kirari came to hyakkaou i like to think that they explored their sexuality together so midari was probably sayaka's first kiss, her first date, etc, so they would have history together and we also see that midari knows sayaka bc her character is described through her pov during tower of doors. I find this ship pretty funny bc sayaka is always so serious and composed and midari is a ball of chaos. 7/10

Yumesaya

This is another crackship i don't mind and find hilarious, yeah i'm a huge kirasaya stan but i'm also a multishipper and sayaka deserves all the girls in the world, so the more the merrier. I like to think this ship as one sided love in which yumeko sort of pines after sayaka and i think it would be very interesting to see kirari being jeaulous that sayaka is getting yumeko's attention. We saw jeaulous/protective sayaka in kakegurui, but i would also like to see how kirari reacts when someone tries to take sayaka away from her, it would be really interesting. Obv this would create some tension between kirasaya and also between kirari and yumeko, almost a sort of love triangle dynamic. My opinion is that yumeko is just too unstable to settle down, also they both probably would get bored/lose interest in each other after the heat of the moment. 6/10

Ririsaya

Sorry but i really can't see it happening not even if i squint, but i really enjoy the ririsaya fanfictions and i think those works are pretty great even though i don't ship them very much. It would be interesting if both twins were in love with sayaka and there was some tension/coldness between them for a while bc they liked the same girl (maybe i read too many fanfictions). My headcanon is that both sayaka and ririka had a crush on each other when they first knew each other and for sayaka it was probably pretty confusing bc she already had feelings for kirari. I see them as friends, 7/10

Yumemisaori

Again idk if this is the correct name of the ship, many said that yumemi and saori are a healthier/mentally stable version of kirasaya and i agree. the dynamics are similar bc we have the secratary that is willing to do everything for her boss and the relationship is a little more balanced, i think they would be very cute together, but sadly they had very little interactions and if i could see more of them i would probably ship them even more. I like them 7/10.

Sachiko x Mary

I didn't even find a ship name for this couple, so they must be pretty unpopular, i like both characters and their antagonistic dyanamic is very interesting, but i don't ship them much bc i think mary needs/wants someone who is completely different from sachiko, who wants to make mary her pet and mary is someone who cares very much about her freedom, her indipendence and wants to make her own choices and this completely clashes with sachiko's extremely sadistic and domineering nature. I prefer them as enemies who have some sexual tension or enemies with benefits or one night stand adventure, but nothing more. 5/6 out of 10 bc the only mary ship i really love is meariri and i also like tsuzumary a bit.

Sachiko x Mikura

This is probably one of the most unhealthy relationships in kakegurui, but i kinda like it. Their dyanmic is pretty much vertical with sachiko who has all the power and makes mikuro do everything she wants and mikura who is completely obsessed and devoted to sachiko (my opinion is that she developed a sort of stockholm syndrome towards sachiko). I think that someone like sachiko could never have genuine romantic relationships bc of her extremely sadistic nature, she sees ppl like toys to break and what she enjoys the most is seeing ppl suffer, so the only compatible person with sachiko is someone extremely masochistic like mikura. Giving them a 6/7 out of 10 bc their interactions are fun/interesting and spice things up.

Rin x Ibara and Yumeko x Kirari

Hard no to both of them, i don't ship incest, yall can do what you want but personally it's a huge no for me. When i first started watching the anime at the beginning i thought yumeko and kirari had some sort of tension and could have been enemies to lovers (lmaoo i was so naive), but then i discovered they were cousins and i saw more kirasaya interactions so i got completely turned off by this ship. 3/10 to both of these ships.

Sachiko x Sakura

Now this ship is very sexy, idk why i like it but i do, yes i don't see sachiko with anyone besides mikura, but this pairing is not bad at all, even though it's a crackship. I think they would be rivals with benefits and would argue a lot and then make out/have hot sex. 7/10 (maybe it's too high but since these are just my opinions i won't be objective)

Mary x kirari

Uhm is there really someone out there who ships them ? Yeah i thought they had some sexual tension in s1 with that tea scene, but it's a no from me, i don't like it and i don't think they're compatible in any way, i can't see kirari with anyone who isn't sayaka. 4/10