#and also I loooove being in my corner

[universal-kitty]

Hurm, hurm, blog thoughts... Probably gonna get a little personal, but I keep idly spinning my wheels on what I'm doing with this blog.

Like. There's the Tumblr Scare to consider. Still thinking I'll likely move my fics to Ao3, since I don't want to lose them, and I'd almost rather bet on their longevity compared to Tumblr's rn. (Especially under current ownership; maybe...just maybe....someone else should take the reign. I would love to believe staff is as kindly as ex-staff say they are, but everything abt what happened prior still keeps me nervous.)

But there's also IRL stuff going on in my personal life that's... Hmm.

As mentioned before, continuing to look into OSDD as a possible diagnosis for what I've been going through almost all of my life. I thought it was quite normal- based on where and how I entered Fandom- to have characters in your head that spoke to you. They lived your life with you, offering commentary, and etc. Funnily enough, it was only "studying" fickin that I realized there was something else going on there....and that also led to alterhumanity (and geez, did that explain twenty more things-) and THAT is what led to plurality.

...Which has also been a journey and a half, considering my therapist can only do so much. I did the MID, it's just talking about this through parts language and...basically awaiting an appointment- in some future time- to get answers. (I want them, but am unsure if I want an on-paper diagnosis... Suppose we'll see if it means the difference between obtaining specific therapy for this.)

And THAT'S only relevant cause some F/Os are also fictives. Or were F/Os that became introjects, due to the comfort they gave me. (I will not specify who, for personal reasons. If you're curious, I may be willing to entrust my system blog to those who inquire for it.)

OH, and I made it into an apartment!!! That's so incredibly new to me. Nice, but trying to catch this space up with what's needed is...tricky.

Boyf and I have a lot of stuff- put together- and so trying to mentally assemble where shelves will go to bring it all together... Y'know? (But I'm excited to put some lowkey shrines together for certain faves.)

...Other misc. stuff I can't remember now. Reworking my self-inserts on the [quiet] side. Uhhhh, vtubing ideas. More lore for said SIs and ships, and also messing around with certain ideas that could streamline some of my Thoughts?? (We'll see on this. I'm hemming and hawing over it, since idk if this is From Me or outside influences again... Yes, I'm being vague!! I'm allowed.)

Anyways, that's my little update!! I've got drabbles I can post again, at some point, but... Real goal is to eventually post stories again. Esp so I can streamline the commission process, going forward.

(...In the meantime, I am ages behind writing for my LoZ stuff-)

[moe-broey]

Back to what I do best (bare minimum Putting My Guys In Situations shitposts) 😌

Inspo under cut!!!

[tagarilaghost]

JRNKC THANK YOU!!!

You know Darkrai‘s gonna be a bastard when he can demonstrate his power💪

Wonder why he never wanted to kill Cresselia until Dark Crater fight happened ….. :)

hiiii

1. is there a story behind krako’s nose scar? (i had to double check that it wasn’t a part of totodile’s canon design i had forgotten lol)

2. what’s the significance of the lunar wing/what’s the story there?

The only thing he can ever be proud of is others pain that he caused intentionally.

[elliesanqel]

loser ellie being down bad for mean!reader please like maybe shes a popular girl that kinda makes fun of her

obsessed

sypnosis; you were the popular girl—mostly known for making fun of people but there was one girl in particular you always made fun of on the daily. however, with you thinking she hated your guts because of how you treat her, little did you know how secretly obsessed she was with you when she shows another side of herself. warnings; smut, sub!fem reader, dom!ellie, semi-public fingering, slight cum play, not proofread, mdni. a/n; sorry for the wait…i’ve been sick😭 but here i am powering through💪 i looooved this idea so tysm for ur req! (sorry if it sounds rushed, better ones will come soon💔) hope u enjoy! reqs are always open so send as many in i looove seeing them! also if you wanna be on my taglist drop a comment or dm me!

➝ masterlist

you sat at your table with your friends, just a regular wednesday. everyone who wasnt your friend saw you as the mean girl. the popular girl. the one everyone would kill to be like or even sit with. you had to admit, you loved the feeling of being drooled over. you were mean to alot of people, you enjoyed teasing. but when it came to that one girl? ellie williams? oh you enjoyed teasing her more than everyone—your go to was the fact that everyone knew she was a lesbian, mostly because of the fact you knew you could say something as you were straight. or…so you thought.

you laughed with your mates, till at the corner of your eye you see her, her backpack slung over her shoulder as she trails past your table, not even making eye contact and you could sense the fact she knew you’d say something when she turned her head the other way.

“look, guys. its that lesbian weirdo.” you laugh, thinking you were somewhat funny as your friends laughed too. you never let a day go by where you wouldn’t tease her. after all, in your eyes it was just banter. she shot you a look of disgust, which only made you smirk when you realised she wasnt trying to look away.

“what’re you starin’ for? hm? did you wanna kiss me or something?” you joke, your friends laughs echoing behind you. she rolled her eyes and walked off before you could make another joke, shooting you a side glance as she exited the cafeteria. you smiled to yourself, thinking your teasing was successful for today.

that was until after lunch had ended, you had 2 more lessons left before you went home now so you got up and said bye to your friends, walking towards the hallway to your next lesson.

you stopped at your locker for some things, but before you could close it a rough hand gripped around your arm and dragged you to the nearest empty classroom. you couldnt even react it was so fast, all you could do was try and scream but even that was abruptly cut off by a hand covering your mouth.

the classroom was pitch black as the blinds were down, but an open window blew one of the blinds slightly, letting some light in and illuminating who dragged you here. your eyes widened in confusion, but then you were just completely dumbfounded once you recognised the memorable features…of her.

“you—” you began, but your sentence was yet again cut off when she took a step closer, her firm hands wrapping around your naked thighs due to your short skirt, and she placed you on top of one of the desks. she looked at you with those eyes. that same look that you knew all too well.

“you get off on making me look like a fool all the time. don’t you think its my turn now?” she whispers seductively, her breath fanning across your lips as she leaned in, her palms resting on your thighs. this was the complete opposite of what you’d expected from her, and to add on—you’d never really heard her talk before up until now.

you gulped loudly, her words leaving you completely speechless. you silently cursed yourself as you felt your thighs involuntarily spreading a little further, letting her stand inbetween them which is exactly what she did when she saw the opportunity.

she gripped your thighs harder, her lips leaning in and brushing against your ear, her voice low. “hmm. this doesn’t seem like straight behaviour to me. the same girl who makes fun of me for not being it,” she whispers, her hot breath touching your ear.

“spreading those legs for me, huh? yeah, seems very straight, doesn’t it?” she teases. repeatedly mentioning the whole straight thing considering you constantly made fun of her for being lesbian. so many thoughts clouded your mind and you were partly confused, but she was able to read that part. “let me clear that mind of yours, mhm?” she mumbles breathlessly, pressing a warm kiss to your cheek before one of her hands slowly began reaching up your skirt.

“you were right, y’know. i do want to kiss you.”

your breath hitched, her lips inching closer to yours and pressing a soft kiss to them. her tongue slipped over your bottom lip—seeking entrance and you complied, parting your lips for her. her tongue slipped into your warm mouth, sliding against your own in a desperate kiss as both of your breaths were heavy. for some reason, you weren’t pulling away. god, what was she doing to you? you started questioning yourself. wondering wether you made fun of her just to cover up the fact that you could potentially…like her. so many thoughts clouded in your head, but her next movement quickly swiped them all away.

she broke the kiss—her middle and ring finger slipped up your thigh, and past your panties, gently running through your folds. fuck sake. in a classroom. seriously?

you arched forward as you felt her warm fingers rub your folds, your forehead meeting with her shoulder as a needy whine fell past your parted lips. her eyes widened at that, however. she lifted her other hand from your thigh, getting her pointer finger and middle finger and gliding them across your bottom lip, wanting to slip them in. “be quiet. suck.” she commanded, ordering you to suck on her fingers to keep you silent.

your eyes flashed open, but all you could do at this point was comply. you opened your mouth further, taking her digits into your mouth as you began sucking on them. her face fell, her teeth finding her bottom lip as she bit down on it, urging her other hand. she began circling your clit which caused you to bite down on her fingers that were making your mouth feel so full.

she loved the feeling, seeing the girl who made fun of her looking like a fool beneath her. “thats it, thaaats it. suck, sweetheart.” she teased, her voice still that low and seductive tone that you’d gotten used to by now.

she wasted no time in slipping her fingers inside of your clearly aching pussy. she could feel your walls clench around them as she slipping them in fully. you bit down harder on her fingers, your eyes completely rolling back as you arched further.

“ohhh fuck…look at you,” she whispers, moving her lips to your ear again, her voice lowering even further as she spoke. she layed soft kisses to your temple, her soft lips grazing against your skin. her fingers continued to move, pumping in and out of your sobbing hole at a fast pace. so fucking ruthless.

you could feel it now, your stomach tightening and your walls clenching around ellies fingers, she could feel it too. one of your hands reach to her forearm, gripping on for dear life as you could feel yourself on the edge, your teeth biting down harder and your tongue swirling around her fingers in your mouth. she swore she could feel your juices surround her other ones before you’d even came yet, beginning to smirk as she saw you unfolding for her.

“i-i…im gonna—” you almost gag on your words, your mouth completely full with saliva and surrounded by her fingers. your ankles wrap around her waist, trapping her in. “shh, i know, i know.” she whispers reassuringly. she knew you were teetering on the edge and she wanted to get you there, purely to see the sight and for you to feel pleasure. with a couple more pumps, her fingers curling up and stroking against your spongey spot, and her thumb finding your clit, circling it gently, you felt your whole body begin to shake before finally jolting.

your cum flowed out of your aching pussy, onto the desk below you and covering her fingers. you give one final bite on her fingers in your mouth, but you couldnt help but whine as your back arched once more. why was that so good…and why did you want more? she grinned, slipping her fingers out of your mouth with a pop.

then came her fingers from your wet cunt, slipping them out. she smirked at the sight. “i knew your cum would look good on my fingers,” she whispers, looking you dead in the eyes. but then she raised her fingers to her mouth, inserting them in and licking up every last bit like it was liquid fucking gold. she let out a content hum, all the while your eyes widening as you watched her lick your juices up.

her words lingered in your head. well fuck. she’s thought of this happening before.

she reached her hand back down, gathering more of your release back onto her fingers, causing your hips to move against them slightly and your teeth finding your bottom lip. she really didnt care by this point, how desperate she looked for you, she just cared about showing it. this time though, she inched her fingers to your mouth, caressing your lips and letting your own cum drip onto them.

you’d never experienced anything like this before but you knew what she wanted, and you couldnt help but want nothing more than to comply with it. your tongue darted out, licking up your own cum off your lips that she’d put there. she eyed your every movement, smirking as she watched you like she was watching a damn porn video—completely mesmerised.

she pushed your panties back to where they should be, licking her fingers a few more times like she’d just enjoyed and was full from a good meal. she leaned into you, her lips brushing against yours now which caused your heart to jolt.

“guess i’ll see you tomorrow then?” she whispers, her words hitting you like a fucking truck. see you tomorrow? oh no she did not.

your eyes shot open in fury, about to physically yell at her for acting so nonchalant now. but before you could even protest she’d already began walking to the classroom door, opening it and closing it behind her, not even having the courtesy to give you a glance before she left. you sat there, completely dumbfounded and angry that she’d left you in a damn classroom in a state like this.

but something tugged in your stomach, silently cursing yourself that you were actually excited for tomorrow.

taglist: @valeisaslut @elliesfavtoy @ttspenny @willurms @slutt4ellie @stvrluvrrpres @elliescoochieeater @st0nerlesb0 @les4elliewilliams @eveyuyy @starwilliams @ellieswrath @eriiwaii @vahnilla

[ptergwen]

im not sure if you’ll see this😭 but can i have reader being like maddy from euphoria, confident, bad bitch, short skirts and she’s dating peter and they have this secret relationship cuz shes popular and hes not so they both go to a party and makes out in the restroom and comes out together and then flash is making fun of them and then she just kisses peter right in front of everyone (im so srry this is long but i hope u see this

out of sight, on his mind ‎♡‧₊˚

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist

w/c: ?

warnings: making out, suggestiveness, drinking, like one swear

a/n: oh i looooved this idea thank you very much for your service babes :D also don't forget to join my new taglist y'all i only got a couple of you so far & happy reading!

you down a shooter, gagging at the bitter taste of the alcohol. you giggle and stick the tiny bottle in your bra. you're dancing with a group of your friends. one of them takes your hand, the two of you moving to the beat of the music. peter watches you from across the room with the hint of a smile.

he wouldn't typically spend his friday night in the corner of a packed houseparty nursing a cup of jungle juice, but ned insisted they go. his best friend is determined they both up their social statuses this year. they're not too popular at midtown, with the exception of the academic decathlon team.

if people only knew peter was dating one of the most popular girls in school; you.

it was peter's idea to keep your relationship secret. you'd wanted to show him off, but he's too shy. you're always the center of attention, and peter parker doesn't do well with attention. he'd much rather admire you with everyone else in public and be yours in private.

"come on, peter! it's a party! shouldn't we be, like, dancing or something?"

"i don't know, ned. just... drink your juice."

ned takes a generous swig of his drink and cringes. peter chuckles, sipping from his cup.

"what's in jungle juice anyway?"

"um, everything i think. you might blackout if you have too much."

"dude, that's the goal."

you catch peter's eye again. you're holding your friend's arm that's wrapped around your shoulders, hips swaying. you shout along to the music with the rest of the girls in your group. you look so carefree, and so damn good.

the pink, strapless dress you're wearing is hugging your body in all the right places. your hair is styled to perfection, tiny gems dotted along your eyelids. your look is complete with a pair of knee high boots. peter loves your style. there's no way to describe it other than that it's you, who peter adores an insane amount. he wishes he could be as bold as you are.

peter's phone vibrates in his pocket; it's a text from you.

are u watching me?

before he even answers, you send another.

come to the bathroom

peter briefly locks eyes with you. you give him a mischievous smile before slipping away, making some excuse to your friends. he bites his lip to suppress his own grin.

"hey, ned? how about i go get us some refills?"

"bet! i’m gonna dance."

ned hands peter his cup and claps him on the shoulder, disappearing into the crowd. instead of refilling their drinks, peter makes his way to the bathroom. there's a few people waiting in line. knowing you, you've already claimed it from them. he knocks at the door. a hand reaches out and grabs at peter's flannel, pulling him inside.

"hi, baby."

your glossy lips capture peter's in a kiss. he instantly leans into it, but you pull back much to his dismay. his big brown eyes go even bigger.

"woah... hi."

you laugh softly.

"miss me?"

"seems like you missed me too."

"maybe."

you run a hand through peter's hair. his hands settle on your hips.

"sorry for watching you, couldn't help it. you look so pretty tonight."

"i always look pretty."

your tone is playful, but peter knows you mean it, and he couldn't agree more.

"whatcha been up to? you having fun?"

your manicured nails scratch lightly at peter's scalp. he practically purrs at the feeling.

"mm, just been hanging with ned. i don't really know anybody else."

"you know me."

"but you're with your friends."

"so?"

"so... you know i’m shy, princess."

you giggle.

"it's just 'cause you're not drunk enough, baby."

"oh yeah?"

peter's thumbs run up and down your sides, face only inches from yours. you retrieve the shooter from your bra. there's still at least half a shot left.

"open."

peter does as you say and opens his mouth. you take his chin between your fingers and tilt his head back, pouring the rest of the strong, sweet liquid down his throat. he swallows. you toss the bottle aside. peter gives you a look, one that says kiss me. you shake your head, smirking.

you want him to kiss you.

peter's lips smash into yours. his eagerness makes you giggle into the kiss. you grip the collar of his shirt in both hands, lips moving slowly against each other's. peter backs you against the door.

"did i already tell you how pretty you look?"

"mhm, but not enough."

"you're right. you're so pretty."

peter kisses down your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume. you guide his lips back up to yours.

"you are too, y'know."

you peck peter's lips softly, letting your lips linger over his after, eyes searching his. they twinkle. you mesmerize him, truly mesmerize him. you kiss an awe-struck peter properly this time. he holds your waist, head tilted to deepen the kiss.

your make out session is rudely interrupted by someone knocking on the door.

"yeah, one second!" you answer. "let's get out of here."

peter groans and buries his face in your neck.

"but i don't want to. wanna keep kissing you."

"not here, baby."

"why not?"

he leaves more kisses on your neck. you coax peter away, laughing, his arms still wrapped tight around you.

"the line. wanna find somewhere else?"

peter perks up at that.

"okay, let's go."

you lead peter out of the bathroom. he follows, hand in yours. even though no one seems to pay any mind to the fact that you were in the bathroom together, peter can't help but blush. he doesn't make it out unscathed, though; none other than flash thompson notices him.

"penis parker, is that you?"

you stop walking, eyeing flash over your shoulder. peter lets out an exasperated sigh.

"what's up, flash?"

"you are."

peter looks down to see an obvious bulge in his jeans. his cheeks burn hotter, hand leaving yours to readjust himself. a few people turn around to look.

"y/n's a big step up from your imaginary girlfriend. where'd you say she was from again, canada?"

you narrow your eyes at flash, a hand wrapping around peter's bicep.

"do you know him?"

"yeah, we're... friends. sort of. we do academic decathlon together."

your gaze shifts to peter.

"friends?"

"oh yeah, we go way back. any friend of parker's is a friend of mine."

flash smirks at you. you look him up and down, face scrunched in disgust.

"ew."

more people are starting to watch the exchange. you glare at flash, who holds your gaze knowingly. peter can tell you're about to go into protective girlfriend mode. he squeezes your hand that's on his arm.

"anyways, just wanted to congratulate you on your first baddie," flash tells him. "try not to fumble."

before peter can process what's happening, your lips are on his, hands cupping his cheeks to keep him in place. maybe it's just because he's tipsy, but peter actually finds himself having the courage to kiss you back in front of everyone. you smile at this. he holds you by your waist, letting himself enjoy the kiss for a while longer.

peter's lips are puffy and covered in your gloss when you two pull apart. he draws you in closer to himself, giving you one more short kiss, then another. the two of you earn whistles and chatter from everyone watching. you giggle, thumbs caressing peter's cheeks and gaze meeting his.

there's something in his eyes that you haven't seen before; confidence. he might be shy, but not when it comes to you. not anymore.

you look over at flash smugly, his mouth dropped open.

"he won't."

tags (join my new taglist!)

@spidermans-gf @sacharinee

[moondustbaby]

“Can We Go For A Chat?”

blue collar!Rafe x wife!Reader

you interrupt rafe mid-yard work with Love Island lingo—and he’s so confused.

⸻

He’s out back trimming the hedges, shirt long gone, shoulders golden under the late morning sun. The mower’s parked in the far corner of the yard, his gloves are tucked into his back pocket, and his tool belt is hanging low on his hips as he squints at a patch of overgrown grass by the fence.

You’re watching from the kitchen window, iced coffee in hand and grin already forming.

He’s too hot for his own good. Sweaty, sun-kissed, in his blue jeans and work boots like a suburban thirst trap. You pull out your phone to start recording and step onto the patio with purpose.

“Hey,” you call, voice sweet, a little sing-songy. “Can we go for a chat?”

Rafe pauses mid-snip. He pulls one AirPod out, blinking over at you with that confused squint he gets when you ask him things too early in the morning. “What, baby?”

You keep a straight face. “I was wondering if we could go for a chat? Maybe… in Soul Ties?”

His brows furrow. “Soul ties?” He pulls out the second AirPod, brow glistening with sweat, shaking his head slightly like he’s trying to clear it. “What are you talking about right now?”

You’re already walking toward the outdoor patio set. “Just wanna see where your head’s at. Like… are you open to exploring other connections, or do you wanna close things off?”

Rafe freezes. Looks down at his hedge trimmer. Then back at you. “Huh?”

You tilt your head, patting the cushions. “I’m just getting mixed signals, you know? You’ve been cracking on with the backyard all morning but haven’t pulled me for a chat once.”

He walks over slowly, sweat dripping down his temples, still holding his gloves. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I’m just trying to feel things out,” you go on, completely deadpan. “I don’t want to be anyone’s second choice. And, like, if your type on paper is someone who doesn’t bring iced coffee to her man while he’s grafting, that’s fine, I just need to know where I stand.”

He sits beside you cautiously, like he’s not sure if this is a prank or a trap. “Baby… what are you talking about right now?”

You sigh dramatically and look off into the distance. “I just don’t wanna put all my eggs in one basket if your head’s gonna turn the next time the neighbor waves at you over the fence.”

He’s staring at you like you’ve grown a second head. “The neighbor? What—what does that have to do with—wait. Are you doing another TikTok thing?”

You finally break, snorting as you grab his wrist. “YES. You looked so concerned.”

“I was concerned,” he mutters, shaking his head, cheeks flushed from more than just the heat now. “I thought you were trying to divorce me on the patio.”

You snort. “You looked so panicked.”

“I was! You were being all serious, I thought you were gonna tell me you broke the washing machine again or something.”

You lean into him, kissing his shoulder. “You’re such a good sport.”

He side-eyes you. “Are we still talking in riddles or are we back to English now?”

You grin. “I mean… depends. Do you wanna graft more today, or do you wanna go inside and have a cheeky snog?”

That makes him smirk. He leans back against the cushions and tosses his gloves to the ground. “See, that I understand.”

You laugh again, kissing his cheek. “So we’re closing things off, yeah?”

Rafe wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you onto his lap despite the sweat. “Sweetheart, I closed things off the minute I put a ring on your finger.”

a/n: omg i had to write a little something based on this tiktok trend that’s been popping up on my fyp the last couple days—i couldn’t resist lol. also i loooove Love Island (both UK and US) so of course i had to throw it into a fic somehow. is anyone watching the new Love Island US season?? ugh i’m obsessed with Amaya she’s so adorable and after tuesday nights episode i will literally fight for her 😭

♥️ lani

masterlist

[willyoubemycherryy]

TAKE3🎬 +Clark Kent x Reader_

Even more drafts😭 (wrote this one a while ago)

Summary: In 3…2..1,

Contains: ur drunk🤠but fear not ur bf has ur back, ke$ha mentions, kissing, flirting, petnames, some smut but not all the way bc ur wasted and Clark doesn’t do that, flirting, cursing, teasing, ONE drinking problem JOKE, established relationship, initiated fun times n more

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢ ﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉୨♡୧﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉୨♡୧﹉﹉﹉﹉

“I don’t care what people say-“,

You were drunk.

“The rush is worth the price I pay!”

Hopelessly, totally, and completely plastered. Singing in every key imaginable as you swing your hair around, posing dramatically with one arm while the other loops around his neck for balance. The sweet smell of your perfume and one too many drinks mix with your drunken giggles, creating something he’s learned to uniquely but affectionately call- you.

Clark carries you with one arm, forearm hooked under your knees while the rest of you is snug against his chest and bicep.

Except for when you use him as momentum; completely ignoring his trying to safely get you both up to your apartment and the way you could help by not doing what you were currently doing.

“I loooove you Clarkykins”, you coo. Voice syrupy sweet as he’s suddenly the the center of your attentions and he can’t fight the warmth creeping into his cheeks from the back of his neck despite the awful nickname.

You two have been together for a while now and it’s not the first time you’ve told him but when you say it so unabashedly it makes his heart stutter.

“I love you too my little drinking problem”, he says back affectionately- joking though about the nickname and you gasp in faux offense.

“Hey! I do not have a drinking problem! You have a drinking problem!”

You smush his nose for emphasis and he snorts, shifting you a bit as he fishes the keys from his pocket to unlock the door, nodding in agreement even with the irony of your statement. He- like you- mostly drank socially but unlike you, he could hold his liquor. Being so much bigger and all.

“Of course I do, I’m also the one that’s drunk right now huh?” You nod jerkily- like you were right all along and it’s so cute. Cute how even in inebriation, you’re as stubborn as you normally are- ready to argue him down whether you’re right or not and his grin broadens when you reply sluggishly.

“Exaactly.”

You both get in and Clark softly kicks the door shut behind you, locking it and making a beeline towards your room. A bubbly giggle makes him look down at you, your hand in your dress cupping your favorite boob as you giggle yourself dizzy. He quirks a brow, the corner of his own mouth lifting as he waits for you to catch your breath. When you do..

“We’re sooooo gonna fuck aren’t we?” If he wasn’t holding you, he would’ve stumbled. The back of his neck warms enough to rush down his back and the nerves along with your natural shamelessness make him chuckle.

“Sweets, you’re drunk-“

“Sooo?” You cut him off with a confused pout and he shakes his head in disbelief. There’s no way…

“Sooo, you’re not of sound mind enough for my liking to consent to..”, he pauses as he sets you down on the bed, pointedly looking away from your breasts that you’ve gone from massaging to taking them out completely. Puffy, stiff nipples on display while you pout prettily at him and for a few seconds he looses his train of thought, “…c-consent to intercourse”, he rushes out before pushing himself up to kneel by the end of the bed- wrapping his hand around your ankle, lifting your foot as he takes off your heels. The pattern of the straps left slight indents on your skin and without thinking he lowers his head and kisses them.

Your little gasp lets him know that he’s skating on thin ice with what you want from him and that under normal circumstances, he’d give it to you. Gladly. So he pulls away, rising to his feet while holding yours to his stomach and less than a second later your arms are up as you reach toward him, bottom lip trapped beneath your teeth as you whine and he groans. There were rarely times when he told you no but when he did, it was usually for your own good. Doesn’t make now any easier though.

“Please Clark? Just wan’ a kiss- promise”, you pout, words slurring as you ask extra nicely but he can’t trust it. Because he knows you. Just like he knows that the minute he lets himself fall on top of you, you’re gonna wrap your soft self around him and give him hell until you pass out. He shakes his head, dilating pupils setting on the stiff peaks of your chest. Swallowing harshly.

“No, you want to seduce me.” And you laugh at that. At how miserable he sounds and your buzz becomes a rush as you twist one ankle out of his grip to trail it below his belt; applying pressure to the hardening swell beneath with a sigh that’s a lot less innocent then the way you were looking at him.

“Is it working?” You whisper before a soft yawn escapes you and he’s relieved as he whispers back,

“You tell me.”

Your eyes sparkle and when you reach for him again, he doesn’t resist. Falling on you as your legs wrap around him just like he knew they would. Maybe it’s by gravity, maybe it’s by wind of the fan but he doesn’t push away when you kiss him. Instead he kisses back.

You’ll fall asleep any moment now so there’s no harm in in indulging you. It’s slow but the want is there and the way you melt against him- purring in satisfaction- heats his blood something fierce as he suckles your lips between his own, pushing and pulling until your mouths open wider; slotted hotly against each others when you pull his hair.

The little jolt of pain makes him groan as you roll your hips up into his and he licks firmly into your mouth as you moan weakly, breath slowing but by bit until it eventually evens out and he pulls away but your eyes stay closed. Chest rising and falling peacefully. Asleep.

Clark lets out a deep sigh as he gets off, careful not to jostle the bed too much and disturb you, walking to the bathroom to get your makeup wipes. He takes off your dress after diligently but gently wiping your face clean- ignores his hard on to just look at you. Smiling fondly as he runs his knuckles down the apple of your cheek.

You always managed to give him some kind of trouble before you conked out- especially when you drank but it was just another one of your habits he knew you had that he couldn’t bring himself to mind. He could never mind you.

Like tomorrow he knows you’ll wake up either wanting to pick up where you two left off or craving sweets. For some reason, he misses you when you’re asleep so no matter what you pick when you wake, he’s just happy to be there with you.

Clark gets ready himself, stripping down to just his boxers before climbing into bed with you, huffing at the glitter still in your hair as he presses a kiss to your forehead, pulling you close to him as he falls asleep with your weight warm against his side.

[sushirrrry]

TRACED a harry styles x original character one shot word count: 22k (!!!!) cw: m/f intercourse, dirty talk, humiliation kink, talking her through it, marking kink, the slowest burn I've ever written, angst, praise kink,

summary: lily and harry go to a dinner party, harry wants to talk her through it, & harry seemingly loses chess to let her take control.

read part 1 before part 2.

this is one of the longest one shots I've ever written - over 20k WOW - I've also never written a part two so this just solidifies that this was needed & I hope you loooove the continuation of harry and lily <3

enjoy!

_________________

Harry had his feet up on her coffee table like he lived there – that wasn’t a new thing, he had been like that with her since day one.

Lily stirred the simmering pasta sauce and watched him from the corner of her eye—one leg crossed over the other, fingers absently flipping through a book he definitely hadn’t asked to borrow, curls damp from a recent shower before he had left his apartment, leaving little wet patches on the collar of his faded t-shirt. He scrunched his nose, almost in a move to push his glasses up on his face.

“You’re looking very comfortable,” she stated, staring at the sauce as she began lifting the wooden spoon to taste her work. Needed salt, she thought.

Harry looked up, deadpan from the book he had been reading as if he caught only the end of her sentence. But, to Lily’s surprise, Harry always listened to every little word.

“You say that like it's a bad thing.”

“It’s just… you know. You didn’t even knock.” Lily bit her lip; she didn’t want him to feel like it was a bad thing, but she always had never… experienced this kind of relationship before.

Harry not only didn’t knock, he left his jacket on the ground next to his shoes and grabbed himself a can of Diet Coke from her fridge.

She didn’t just love that he was making himself comfortable – she reveled in the way that he truly was just himself around her.

“I brought the wine for dinner,” he said, holding up the bottle beside him so that they could enjoy it with their dinner. “That’s basically knocking.”

Lily rolled her eyes but smiled, which only seemed to encourage him and all of his antics. She knew that he lived off of the energy that she fed him, which only made him want to push further.

“Also,” he continued, placing the book face-down on his chest as he let his head rest on the back of the sofa, “your neighbor already thinks I live here. He asked me to move my car. Called me ‘buddy.’ I didn’t correct him – said, ‘Hey buddy, can’t usually get out in the mornings, mind parking a bit closer on that side?’”

She flushed a little and turned back to the stove, hiding the way her cheeks from him or she knew that he would react to it. Harry had this effect of slipping past defenses without trying, of filling a room without forcing it; of being comfortable in a space she still sometimes tiptoed through.

She poured the pasta into a strainer and hesitated as she thought of her next question. She knew that there was another question on the tip of her tongue, and she wasn’t sure how to entirely bring it up to him.

It was something that she was a bit self-conscious on, considering she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to partake, but she knew that Harry would be all in the moment she asked.

“There’s, um… a thing on Saturday,” she said, nonchalantly, not wanting to make it a big deal.

Behind her, the couch creaked as Harry sat up, setting his book down again.

“A thing,” he echoed, amused. “That sounds incredibly specific, please don’t tell me anything more – I’m overwhelmed with information.”

She rolled her eyes at his wittiness, “It’s just…  it’s friends, a dinner party,” she said quickly. “We do it every few months. Potluck style. It’s – I mean, it’s nothing fancy. You don’t have to come. I just thought maybe—”

He was already walking toward her when she went to pour the noodles back into the pot.

“Lily,” he said, soft but certain; standing next to her now, he looked down at her. The way that this hand caressed the side of her wrist, he bit his lip at the hot touch. “I’d love to come.”

She met his eyes, those maddeningly open, green-flecked eyes that sat behind those glasses, and tried not to let her breath catch.

“I, uh… I get weird. Around a lot of people. You know that – I mean, even friends. It’s just… that’s actually overwhelming to me. And then having to tell them about you,” Her eyes widened at the way it sounded, “Not that I don’t want to introduce you! I do! It’s –“

“I know.” He reached past her to grab two plates, brushing her shoulder just enough to make her heart race. “But I also know you’re not weird, and that you’re just a bit socially aware to a higher degree than most. I live to be the life of the party, ergo, why we work together.”

“That’s because you’re… not normal,” she muttered with a slightly sly tongue.

Harry grinned at her response. “Normal is deeply overrated. You’re charmingly mysterious. I’m outrageously good-looking and have very talented hands in one way or another. We make a balanced pair.”

Lily scoffed, dishing pasta onto both plates, grateful for something to do with her hands.

“Besides,” he added, tone light but sincere, “I would enjoy seeing you in your world. I’ve already conquered the tattoo shop. Your apartment. That bakery you pretend not to like but always take me to.”

“I don’t always—”

“And now,” he said, stealing a forkful of pasta from her plate before she could stop him, “it’s time to infiltrate the friend group. Win hearts. Win stomachs. Probably win you all over again, but that’s a given.”

She looked at him then, really looked—at the ease in his smile, the affection under all the teasing. He wasn’t just saying yes to a dinner party. He was saying yes to her – he was saying yes to being seen with her, which was the most encouraging part of the entire thing.

Once both of them had their plates, Lily making sure that Harry got his own garlic bread, since he always liked to steal bites of hers, they took a seat at the small table that sat in the nook in Lily’s tiny apartment.

Only two seats; practically on top of one another. But, Harry wouldn’t have had it any other way.

A tiny candle flickered between them—not lit for ambience, really, just left over from the power outage two weeks ago, but it cast enough glow to soften the shadows and make everything feel vaguely more intimate than Lily had intended.

She twirled her fork through the pasta, hyper-aware of every clink of metal against ceramic. Harry ate like he always did—unapologetically, making sounds of appreciation like it was the best thing he’d tasted all week.

“You know,” he said between bites, “if I’d known you were capable of this level of culinary magic, I’d have made you cook for me on day one. Now I know why everyone always wants to kiss the chef.”

“You would’ve scared me off on day one if you told me you wanted to kiss me,” Lily muttered, biting at her lip before looking up with large eyes. The large doe-like eyes that drew Harry in so quickly and effortlessly that day in the shop.

He paused, then smiled like he knew exactly how right she was.

“Probably,” he agreed. “But you’d have come back, obviously. I have that effect on people.”

She glanced up at him, cautious as she took a bite of her pasta. “You’re very confident.”

“I’m also very observant,” he said, nudging her plate slightly closer when she paused too long without eating. “You’re still here, aren’t you? Haven’t left yet?”

She blushed and dropped her gaze, taking another small bite. Harry leaned back in his chair, watching her over the rim of his freshly poured wine glass.

“You ever just want to flirt back?” he asked casually, like he just wanted to rile her up.

Lily cleared her throat, eyes going anywhere but up to the man in front of her. She could feel his grin; could feel his cockiness radiating from across the table.

“I-,” she managed after wiping the side of her mouth with her napkin. “I- I don’t know - ”

“Don’t what?” He coaxed, leaning forward a bit on the table; his lopsided grin was just teasing her now. It was such a small table she felt that he was practically in her lap. “Say it.”

She shook her head, lips twitching, but she couldn’t look at him directly. There was something disarming about the way he looked at her—like he saw every flinch, every half-formed thought behind her eyes, and still wanted in.

“I’m not good at that stuff,” she said quietly. “Flirting. Saying the right thing. I always second-guess it. Myself, all the time.”

Harry’s grin softened, just slightly. Enough to let the joking drop into something real.

“That’s the thing, though,” he told her. “You don’t have to be good at it. You just have to mean it.” He stopped for a moment, letting the façade drop before he shrugged. “You already have me; you don’t have to work that hard to keep me.”

She hesitated, toying with the edge of her napkin. “What if I don’t know how to mean it the right way? Or you take it the wrong way?”

“You don’t need a script, Lily,” he said gently. “You just need to stop trying to edit yourself so much.”

The silence between them hummed. Not heavy—just charged, like air right before lightning struck down. It felt like they were waiting for the ball to dorp.

She finally looked at him, and when she did, he wasn’t smiling anymore. Just watching her with a quiet, impossible patience.

So she said the first honest thing that came to her mind: “I like when you’re over here,” She tilted her head, finally letting her eyes lay on his, “You fill the space, and it’s nice.”

Harry’s mouth twitched – he couldn’t help how, in her own way, that was one of the nicest things she could have said.

“See?” he said, taking another sip of his wine. “You’re a natural.”

Harry leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table, his fork dangling from his fingers as he studied her for a moment. The way that her hair sat on her shoulders, her make-up was soft but in a dewy way. It made her look alive; made her look like she was glowing from the inside out.

“I like when I come over, too,” he said, quieter this time, trying to match her energy even though he could scream it from the rooftops, if he was asked. “Kind of feels like I’m being let into this secret little world of yours. Even if you pretend it’s nothing.”

Lily blinked at him, unsure what to do with the way his voice lowered like that—gentle, teasing, but edged with something honest. She could barely hold eye contact without her pulse jumping out of her chest.

“I don’t pretend it’s nothing,” she said, almost defensively, shaking her head a little bit.

“No?” His eyes softened. “Then what is it? The bit of nonchalance.”

She floundered, not because she didn’t have an answer, but because all the ones she did have felt too vulnerable. Too true. She swallowed and looked down at her plate. They ate with such purpose, letting their meal be an invited guest in their conversations.

“It’s... it just feels safe,” she said finally, voice barely above a whisper as she pushed her pasta around on the plate. “You being here. It’s … different than my quiet. I like quiet, don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to make a big deal of it, because then maybe it’ll start being a big deal. It just feels new, and I like the energy that you bring.”

Harry was silent for a beat. Then, with a quiet response that made her feel bad for even allowing his glow to dim: “You know I can be quiet, right?”

She let out a soft laugh. “You’re never quiet.”

“Sure I am. When you’re reading. Or cooking. Or when I’m trying not to scare you away by saying dumb things like I really like the way your voice drops when you’re unsure of something.”

Her breath caught.

“I—what?”

“Exactly like that,” he said, tilting his head as if examining her, gentle and warm and utterly infuriating.

Lily’s fingers tightened around her fork, licking the edge of her lip before feeling the heat of her cheeks rising rapidly. “You do this to me on purpose.”

“What, tell you the truth?” he asked. “Yeah, I do. Relationships are based on truth, aren’t they?”

She shook her head, looking away, cheeks burning at that. “You’re too much sometimes.”

“And yet,” he said, reaching for his wine again, “you still invite me over.”

He didn’t say it like a challenge. He said it like a fact. And maybe that was the thing about Harry—he didn’t demand anything from her. He just let her react, unravel, exist. And somehow, that made her want to give him more.

She reached for her own wine, took a long sip, and when she set the glass down, her hand brushed against his on the table. It wasn’t an accident, though, even though she made it seem that way. Harry stilled, just for a second, as if giving her the choice to move away.

She didn’t.

Instead, she stared at their hands, fingers only barely touching, and said, “I don’t really do this.”

He didn’t move. “Do what?”

“This," She gestured between then, "People. Letting them in.”

His thumb ghosted over the edge of her pinky, the smallest touch. “I know.”

Her chest felt like it might cave in as she took in his words, knowing that he meant them. But not in a bad way. Not in the way she used to associate with being seen.

“I’m trying,” she whispered; and she had been.

She had been trying so hard to compartmentalize this feeling – it was so new. Dating, this whole thing. Harry was so forward, so ready to give affection at any given moment. And then there was Lily, so shy, so meek. So unsure of herself at times.

Harry’s voice was steady, warm. “You don’t have to rush it. I’m not going anywhere.” After another moment, he shrugged, “I don’t have to go with you on Saturday, if you feel that’s rushing it.”

She looked up then, answering quicker than she could have imagined herself, “No, I want you there.”

And maybe it was something about the candlelight, or the way he was still watching her like she was worth waiting for—but she leaned forward, slowly, unsure, until he met her halfway. There was hesitance on his end, knowing it was so unlike her to initiate something that could have possibly lead to rejection.

The kiss was soft. Barely there. Not because of hesitation, but because it didn’t need to prove anything. The taste of red wine on his lips, the taste of the creamy tomato sauce on hers.

When she pulled back, she felt like she’d exhaled something she’d been holding in for years.

Harry smiled, lazy and lopsided like he had been completed overwhelmed with affection. “You’re absolutely ruining me, you know that?”

The way that his voice lowered told her everything she needed to know but would be too afraid to admit. He was absolutely wrecked with her. It was a feeling that could not be described, a feeling that was heavily influenced by the pure attraction and cadence that Lily showed him. Every ounce of her was shifting; her ideas, her thoughts, her wants and needs.

All she could think about was him. It felt too good to be true, it always felt that way no matter what she was thinking. But, sitting here with him in her small apartment on the east side had been more than enough to swell her heart a few sizes larger.

It was enough to calm her; to allow her the dignity to hold her shoulders back and feel that her confidence was there, that she couldn’t have dream this life if she slept for a hundred years.

And she hoped that same confidence would push her through introducing him to her friends – she hoped that her friends found the same intrigue in him that she had. It was all she could do; hope.

***

Saturday.

Lily had a thing for being extremely early, and Harry had a thing for showing up when he was told, but usually fifteen minutes late. So, by the time Harry had arrived at Lily’s apartment like they had agreed, the dinner party was already in full swing.

When Lily and Harry arrived—warm laughter spilling out through the slightly cracked apartment door, the hum of music and clinking glasses weaving a comforting kind of chaos.

Lily shifted the lemon bars in her hands and looked up at him. “We can still turn around.”

Harry, carrying the wine under one arm like a casual afterthought, gave her a look that was both amused and gentle as he looked at the front door. “We’re already here.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I brought wine – again,” he said, like that solved everything. “You made lemon bars. That means we’re the best guests here by default.”

She gave him a look, nerves fluttering in her chest. “Just… don’t be too charming, okay?”

Harry’s grin went wide, delighted but also a bit slated by the way that she said it. “You say that like I have control over it.”

Before she could roll her eyes, the door swung open with surprise even though they had knocked—Ava, already barefoot, hair up in a messy bun, holding a wine glass and looking thrilled at seeing the two of them. Her eyes went from Lily to Harry, a bit shocked that there were two of them standing there.

“Finally,” Ava said, stepping back, allowing the two to come in the foyer. “I was starting to think you two were imaginary.”

Lily smiled shyly, gesturing towards the lemon bars that sat in her arms. “These are lemon bars. They’re still a little warm—”

“She made them,” Harry added quickly, shrugging.

Ava took the lemon bars in her arms, smirking at the two of them, “Of course you did, Lily – I’m sure they’re divine, like always,” Her eyes trailed back to Harry as he gave her a warm smile, “You must be Harry, then. We’ve all heard so much about you. I’m Ava.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Ava – hope they were good things.” Harry greeted, nodding her head at her. He held a bottle of wine, showing it to her, “Table for this?”

Ava turned to bring them into the room where everyone had been sitting, “Yes, we can put everything over here."

The two of them followed her into the living room and dining space; it looked like mostly everyone was there, which gave Lily already a burst of annoyance that they were semi-late, but it seemed that everyone still hadn’t eaten yet, so that made her feel better.

“Sorry we were late,” Lily offered, feeling Harry’s hand on her back.

“It’s my fault,” Harry shook his head, “Lily would never be late.”

Ava set the lemon bars on the table, taking a sip of her wine before smiling, “Oh, we were worried about her! She’s never late to anything, so I was worried something happened.”

“Gotta’ keep her on her toes a bit.” Harry charmed, “Take her out of her comfort zone once in a while. Not every day you meet a girl who’s just perfect in everything.”

The look on Ava’s face was one of surprise as she noticed Lily’s blush creeping on her face, she gave Lily a small look before she said, “She is quite perfect, I agree,” Ava cleared her throat, “Uh, please help yourselves to something to drink – we have wine, liquor, beer,” She looked at the table, “Stuff in the fridge, whatever you want. I think we are still waiting on a few other people.”

Ava placed her hand on Lily’s shoulder as she moved around her, whispering in her ear, “You said cute, not a fucking art-house stud.”

Lily turned her head as she watched Ava walk away with a devilish smirk on her face, wine being brought to her lips.

Harry turned to Lily with a triumphant look. “See? Easy. I’ll get you something to drink to wash away those nerves.”

Inside, the apartment buzzed with easy energy: twinkling string lights, a mismatched table set with dishes people had clearly brought from home, the comforting smell of baked brie and roasted vegetables wafting from the kitchen where Ava and her partner, Landon, had been standing as they tried to get everything together. It wasn’t fancy, but it was theirs—and Lily was suddenly very aware of how much it meant to bring Harry into it.

Her friends greeted her with grins, hugs, and raised eyebrows as they noticed Harry standing beside her. Most of them had heard something about Harry, but seeing him there—tall, casually dressed in a dark button-down with his sleeves pushed up and his tattoos peeking out from the unbuttoned collar, curls slightly unruly, charm dialed all the way up to a level past one-hundred—made it real.

“So,” said Danika, one of Ava’s friends who Lily had met a few other times, “You must be the tattoo guy.”

“That might be me,” Harry said, sliding into a seat on the couch with a bottle of beer, like he’d always belonged there. That was the thing about Harry – he didn’t need to be babysat by Lily, he just moved around and talked to whomever. It didn’t take effort, so Lily just watched from afar. “But I answer to many titles. Lemon bar connoisseur. Bad influence. Harry, mostly.”

“Professional bullshitter, Lily added under her breath, settling beside him. Harry moved to make room for her, even pulling her into his lap a bit.

He bumped her shoulder, playful. “She likes it, though, so I have to keep that image up.”

Danika bit her lip as she stared between them, “You are so not what expected for Lily,” She gave Lily a look, and then back to Harry, “But I think that’s what makes dating fun, isn’t it?”

Harry turned his head to see Lily blink over at him, “Chance is a funny game, but it’s cool when it works out in your favor.”

The small black skirt, the flowing white top with bell-bottom sleeves, her hair pulled back into a half-up with a clip. The way that her lips were pink and flushed, her eyes mesmerizing with long lashes and a flurry of freckles that danced along her skin.

Every part of Lily reminded Harry of what he saw in her the very first day, and how lucky he had been to have her walk in the tattoo shop that day. 

They fell into an easy rhythm as the evening unfolded. Lily didn’t talk much, but when she did, it was with that soft, deliberate thoughtfulness her friends had always loved—and Harry made space for it, never talking over her, but always giving her room to speak if she wanted to. It was subtle, but she noticed.

She also noticed how quickly he won everyone over. The jokes, the way he remembered names immediately and would say them back as if to engrain them, the way he complimented Ava’s vintage glassware and meant it. He teased, but kindly. Told stories with the kind of easy confidence she envied.

When the group started sharing their worst first-date stories, Harry leaned in like he’d been waiting for this exact opportunity.

“I once took a girl out who told me—mid-bite of my club sandwich, mind you—that she thought tattoos were a cry for attention and that insecure people got them as a shout for help.”

“Oh no,” Ava gasped, covering her mouth. “That’s so crazy.”

“She said marking your skin was a sin of God as he had made you the way he wanted to,” he added. “I told her my parole officer was calling to schedule my court date so I could leave.”

Laughter broke around the table, and even Lily couldn’t hold back her smile at his ridiculous way of trying to make people laugh.

But what made her heart ache—just a little—wasn’t the way everyone liked him. It was the way he kept glancing at her, like she was the one he was trying to impress. Like she was the reason he was being funny. Like none of it mattered without her eyes on him.

“So, how’d you two meet?” Cynthia asked, one of her other friends, chin propped in her hand, eyes bright with curiosity as she stared at the two of them. “And please say it was some cool, grungy bar or a chance encounter at a bookstore where Lily was probably holding way too many books, so you offered to help her carry them home.”

“Not exactly,” Lily’s stomach fluttered, but before she could open her mouth to say any else, Harry leaned forward with an exaggeratedly serious expression; he’d had a few drinks that that point, so his usual chattiness had just upped.

“She walked into the shop like she was going to pass out,” he said, grinning, from the memory and the alcohol mixed together. “Wanted a tattoo but looked like she’d rather die.”

Lily groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Harry—”

“She was really adorable,” he continued, undeterred by her groans. “Kept second-guessing everything. I offered her water like three times. Thought she’d bolt when I turned my back or something.”

“I almost did,” Lily mumbled into her hands.

“But she didn’t,” Harry said, glancing sideways at her. “She sat there and took it like a champ.”

“And the rest is history?” Ava asked, grinning, leaning into Landon.

Harry’s voice softened, just slightly, his hand finding her thigh under the table as they sat next to one another. He looked over at her, a small bait of confidence hopefully.

“I- uh,” Harry, without much to say for the first time ever, found himself trying to hold back the large smile that was trying to break on his face, “Yeah. Something like that.”

Lily peeked at him through her fingers, heart thudding.

It wasn’t the story, really. It was how he told it with the sense warmth, like he had been waiting for her to step into that tattoo shop forever. With just enough truth to make it funny, and just enough fondness to make it feel like a memory worth keeping, even if his version was dramatized a bit.

“And then I asked her to get coffee with me, and I just – I don’t know, I didn’t want to live a life that didn’t have her in it anymore. Really weird how life can do that sometimes.”

At that, Lily turned to look at him – really look at him. His usually goofy, overwhelming self made her shy and want to let him shine. But the comment sat with her for a moment as she felt her radiance for just a small moment; he wanted to live in a world where she shone. He wanted to uplift her, show her off, show her how much she meant to him, and that made her feel as high as she could get.

Danika took a large sip of wine, shaking her head, “We’ve been waiting for Lily to find someone that understood her sparkle.”

Ava added, “She’s quiet, but she’s got unbelievable layers.”

“Guys,” Lily shook her head, letting her hand travel over Harry’s larger one that held on her thigh. “You’re too much.”

Later, while people passed around homemade brownies and Lily’s lemon bars and refilled their drinks with more laughter and drunken smiles involved as the night had gone on, Ava leaned in as they sat on the sofa together and whispered, “He’s a keeper.”

Lily nodded, cheeks warm as she took her own sip of wine. “I know.”

And she did. For the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel like she was playing catch-up in her own life. She had someone who moved at her pace—someone who never asked her to be louder, or bolder, or someone she wasn’t.

Harry caught her looking at him just then, across the table from where he was sitting, listening to a story. He gave her the smallest wink of an acknowledgement. He didn’t need to be sitting near her to let her know he was thinking of her.

The last of the wine had gone warm. Someone queued a playlist that drifted into soft jazz, and the light hum of conversation settled into the quiet, comfortable lull that came when the night had peaked and begun its slow descent. People were sitting around, enjoying conversations with one another.

Lily sat on the sofa, legs crossed as she took in the conversations around her, her glass empty in her hands, watching the soft chaos of her friends—legs tucked under them on couches, laughter now more breath than sound, plates empty except for brownie crumbs and lemon bar sugar dust.

Harry was leaned back in a mismatched dining chair, his arms crossed, ankles kicked out, the kind of relaxed posture that didn’t try to impress but still managed to. He was in the middle of a story—one of the tamer ones—and she watched as her friends fell into his rhythm easily, drawn in by his dry humor, the wry twist of his mouth when he delivered a punchline without raising his voice.

She watched with intent, watching the way that people were drawn to him in a way that made her jealous, proud, and rigorously enticed in so many ways.

She had noticed that Ava wasn’t around, and moved towards the kitchen to help with some clean-up.

The kitchen was a mess in the way all good parties left it—crumb-speckled plates stacked in the sink, wine-stained glasses balanced precariously on the counter, and serving spoons abandoned in half-empty casserole dishes. Lily stood barefoot in front of the sink, sleeves rolled to her elbows, warm water running over her hands as she scrubbed a baking dish that had once held mac and cheese.

Ava dried a wine glass beside her, hip bumped against the counter, her bun unraveling slowly over the course of the night.

“I really like him,” she said, not bothering to pretend it was a casual remark.

Lily didn’t look up, focusing on getting the dried cheese off the pan instead. “You’ve said that three times.”

Ava shook her head, trying to read Lily as best as she could. “I know, I know. I just keep saying it in case you forget.”

Lily smiled faintly with the thought of her friends loving Harry, rinsing suds from the dish before handing them to her friend who held the drying towel, “He was good tonight.”

“He was,” Ava agreed. “And not in a ‘look at me, I’m impressive’ way. Just... easy. Like, charismatic and fun and… what you need.”

“Yeah,” Lily said softly, acknowledging her friend with a few nods and biting her lip as she continued to focus her hands in the sink, “He makes things feel easy.”

There was a pause as Ava handed her a towel and leaned back against the counter, watching her with the quiet knowing that only came from years of friendship, and for Ava to actually see Lily the way that Harry did. Lily had tried so hard in friendship, wanting to be seen and wanting to be heard. It was something she needed to work at, but she knew that Ava had been that person for her.

Ava had met Landon, they had been together for years and Lily had seen how easy it could be. She knew it was possible – but Ava was beautiful, and charming, and had everything working in her favor.

Lily, on the other hand, worked hard to make all of those things true.

“You’ve never brought someone into this part of your life before,” Ava acknowledges, “Around us, around your friends.”

Lily paused, drying her hands as she nodded, with a knowingness, “I know.”

Ava bumped her shoulder, smiling at her friend. “I’m glad it’s him.”

Just then, the sound of someone walking into the kitchen archway took them out of their conversation to stare at the individuals, already shedding the faint chill of the night air, a leftover lemon bar in hand, half-wrapped in foil like he’d just raided the fridge.

“Thought I lost you,” Harry said, voice low and playful. “I was gonna have to just leave with the lemon bars and never speak to anyone again.”

Lily turned, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “I’m just helping clean up.”

“I figured that’s what you would be doing,” he said, stepping further into the kitchen. He glanced toward Ava and lifted the foil like a peace offering. “Permission to steal her?”

Ava raised her hands, throwing the towel she had on the counter. “By all means. She’s yours.”

Lily gave her a quick look—soft, grateful—and then followed Harry to the door, the two of them slipping on their coats in the hallway. After a quick goodbye, some hugs and thanks given, Harry held the door open for her with a crooked grin.

The air outside was cooler than Lily expected when they made their way out of the apartment building, brushing over her skin in little bursts as she stepped out onto the front stoop. The last remnants of laughter and music echoed faintly behind them like a memory—dull through the walls, yet still lingering in her chest like a hum. The warmth of the wine, the soft buzzing of the evening’s attention still wrapped around her like an oversized sweater.

They walked through the quiet city streets under a pale wash of streetlights, close enough that their arms brushed now and then. The air was cool, the kind that snuck under your jacket and made your skin remember how to feel.

Harry was quiet for once—not in a moody way, but in the way that people get when they’re letting something settle. Lily felt it too, his usually bubbly-self had become quite dim. The party had been loud in the best way, but she was glad for the quiet now, for the sound of his sneakers on the pavement and the occasional soft laugh when he brought up something Ava had said.

Harry walked beside her, one hand tucked into the pocket of his jacket, the other carrying the half-eaten tray of lemon bars. His strides were loose, unhurried, like he had nowhere to be but next to her.

“You know,” he said as they passed under the golden haze of a streetlight, “I think I won.”

Lily blinked up at him, pulling her jacket closed around her. “Won what?”

“Dinner party MVP. Best guest. Most charming presence. Take your pick.”

She huffed out a laugh, cheeks feeling the hurt from smiling all night. “You made one joke about parole and complimented someone’s playlist because they were playing the Pixies. That’s a low bar.”

“Flawlessly executed, ten out of ten,” he said. “I rest my case.”

The streets were quiet at this hour, the occasional hum of a distant car passing, but not too many people past them. Lily pulled her jacket tighter around herself and fell into step just a little closer to him. He made it known that he wanted her close, letting his arm hug over her shoulder to pull her into him as they walked.

Lily heard Harry take a deep breath before he cleared his throat, slowing their walk as they approached an intersection.

“Uh, so,” he started, turning to face the opposite way from her apartment, “My place is actually closer to here than yours is.”

The way he said it wasn’t an invitation, really, but more of an observation that he wanted to introduce to her. It was clear that he may have wanted to give some hints, but didn’t want her to feel that he was pressuring her to do anything she didn’t want to.

It had only been four months – three months of this. It felt that every move they made could be new if they allowed it to be, but the feeling of nerves was there occasionally when they wanted it to be. Harry felt nervous thinking of what she would say, how she would react.

“Five blocks that way, actually,” he said. “You wanna come over? If you’re too tired, you don’t have to, but yours is thirty minutes and two trains. I was just thinking – “

“I’ve never been,” she said before she could stop herself. It came out smaller than she intended, but the intrigue was there.

He glanced over at her, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then: “I know.”

The way he said it wasn’t loaded. It was just true.

“Okay,” she said, nodding against his arm, her voice steadier now, with decisiveness. “Let’s go to yours.”

Harry didn’t say anything at first. He just smiled. The kind of smile that said thank you and finally and I won’t mess this up all at once.

So, they turned towards Harry’s apartment instead. Lily moved first, taking a few steps in the direction Harry had initiated and he felt a ping in his heart as he felt her want, her draw for something new. It took a lot out of her to do something like that, so he appreciated the enthusiasm for the invite.

Harry’s building was one of those old, converted warehouse spaces—tall windows, exposed brick, creaky floors. The kind of place that felt a little like a movie set if the movie was about someone who collected too many books and didn’t own matching chairs.

Ivy was curling along its edges like the veins of something alive. Inside, the stairwell creaked beneath their feet, wooden banisters worn smooth by time. He unlocked the door on the third floor and pushed it open with a sweep of his hand.

The apartment smelled faintly of cedar and ink and paper. The walls were cluttered with framed sketches—some in color, some in pencil. Books stacked in towers against the wall. A vintage record player. A dying plant he kept insisting was “in recovery.” A collection of mismatched mugs on open shelves in the kitchen caught her attention, too.

As soon as Lily stepped inside behind him, she felt her breath catch—not in awe exactly, but in recognition. The space was... him. Every inch of it radiated intention in a messy, artful kind of way. The floors were hardwood and scuffed, a rug with curling edges stretched beneath a low coffee table cluttered with sketchbooks, candles, and what looked like a half-assembled model of a ship that she wasn’t sure he had started, or if he had bought it like that. She wouldn’t have put it past him.

The walls were gallery-like—framed ink drawings, messy charcoal sketches pinned directly to the plaster, a few Polaroids tacked up among them with friends and memories he undoubtedly wanted to keep. There were books stacked in teetering piles by the windows, next to old records and mismatched furniture that somehow didn’t clash but harmonized, like an accidental symphony.

It was a mess, but in the kind of way that told a story. Like everything had been touched, chosen, kept.

“Sorry it’s not minimalist and beige,” he said, throwing his keys into a bowl shaped like a skull. “I was going for eccentric artist with emotional depth.”

“I don’t know what I expected,” Lily murmured, turning in place, arms crossed over her body.

“Boring? Empty?” Harry offered, shedding his jacket and tossing it on a hook by the door. He offered his hand for hers, “Wrong place.”

She shed her jacket, handing it to him with a thanks, “No. It’s... layered.”

He grinned. “I'll take that as a compliment.”

She wandered to the windowsill, where a cracked clay dish held a mess of rings, paperclips, and what looked like a tiny glass vial of gold flakes. A small, battered lamp cast a pool of warm amber over the couch, worn in the cushions and draped in a navy throw that had clearly seen better days.

“This just feels like someone lives here,” she said, staring out the view of his apartment, down onto the street that they were just walking on.

Harry raised a brow, maneuvering into the kitchen. “Good. I do. Every day.”

She looked over her shoulder, catching the way he was watching her—not impatient, not expectant. Just there, fully present, as he always seemed to be. He stood in the kitchen, pouring them each a glass of water, and returned to hand her one.

"You’re nervous,” he said softly, observing her as they stood awkwardly in the corner of his living room.

“I’m not—” She stopped, exhaled as she looked at the glass he handed her. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Harry didn’t press her, of course. He simply sat on the edge of the couch and let her move at her own pace. No rush. No demand.

“You know,” he said, swirling his glass a little, “for someone who gets nervous, you’re surprisingly bold.”

She glanced over at him, confused, she moved to sit next to him but just kept still for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“You walked into a tattoo shop alone. You let me talk you through your first ink, even though I could see you were ready to bolt.”

“I didn’t bolt. I usually do."

“Exactly.” He smiled at her over the rim of his glass. “Takes guts.”

She rolled her eyes, but her heart fluttered. “I get overwhelmed easily. You know that.”

“I do,” he said. “And I like it.”

Lily turned slowly toward him, cautious. “You like that I get overwhelmed?”

“I like watching you work through it,” he said, voice low and warm like honey moving over. “I like the way you get quiet, like your whole world shrinks to one thought. I like how deliberate you are—how you don’t give anything away until you mean it.”

She swallowed, feeling that the way he said it meant something more as if it had a double meaning as they sat there next to one another. “That’s not how most people feel about me.”

“I’m not most people.”

He set his glass down and leaned back, one arm draped across the back of the couch, like he’d carved out a space for her without needing to ask.

Lily took a step closer, biting her lip as she felt that boldness he had talked about.

“Do you," She swallowed thickly, feeling her skin tingle at the thought of looking up to see him staring at her. When she did, it was all she saw.

"Do you bring girls here often?” she asked quietly, feeling embarrassed for asking the question at all, or prying enough.

“Nope.”

“Not even for—” She gestured vaguely, face flushing as she crossed her arms. “You know.”

He chuckled, deep and low, but feeling entirely too warm from watching her stand in front of him - the fact that she would even insinuate that made him feel a laugh in his throat.

“Nope. Not for that, either.”

She shifted on her feet, flustered. “I guess – I mean, we haven’t even…”

“No,” he said, lips quirking at her suggestion, but finishing her thought for her so she wouldn't have to. “We haven’t.”

The pause hung between them. Not tense. Just thick with awareness. She started to notice the more noticeable things about him; the way his nose ring fit snug, the way his mustache was perfectly groomed, the glasses on the bridge of his nose eventuated the sparkle in his eye, the mess of curls that fell onto his forehead that were a bit windswept as you walked back to his place.

“You never tried,” she said, almost barely making it past her lips.

“I could tell you weren’t ready. And it’s more fun this way.”

Her brow lifted at his choice of words. “Fun?”

He sat forward slightly, his voice dipping as he reached for her hand.

“Yeah. You’re like this beautiful, intricate lock, and I like figuring you out piece by piece. What makes you laugh. What makes you blush. What makes you look at me like you’re doing right now,” He made himself comfortable on the couch, leaning back a bit as he looked back at her, “I like when you look at me like that.”

She hadn’t realized she was looking at him like that—like she wanted to kiss him and also hide from him at the same time.

Harry stood slowly, hand still holding hers, and closed the space between them until she could feel the heat of him, the slow, steady rhythm of his breath. Such a different side, such a welcoming side.

“If you put the wrong key in the lock, you can break it real easy. I don’t need all of you tonight,” he said gently, his fingers running along the side of her face, pushing hair off her shoulder. “Not until you want to."

She didn’t pull away, all she could do was lean in.

And when he kissed her, it was slow, and patient, and made her forget every careful thing she’d rehearsed in her head. She didn’t think - it was all by feeling.

Harry bent his head and touched his mouth to hers like he was learning something—pressing in, pulling back, giving her a beat to catch up. His lips were soft but firm, coaxing her open little by little, his thumb brushing her jaw as if grounding her there.

She responded this time. Surer of herself than she had been before. She knew that Harry liked kissing her; it was something she felt confident on by the way that he held her tightly like he wanted more, more, more. Her hand slid up to his chest, fingers resting lightly against the beat of his heart, and she kissed him back with a quiet kind of hunger that surprised even her.

He made a sound in the back of his throat that was low and revenant and deepened the kiss.

His hand slipped from her jaw to the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair, tilting her just enough to draw another sigh from her lips. She stepped into him, the front of her body brushing his, and he instinctively pulled her closer. His other hand splayed along her lower back—guiding, not pushing.

The tension shifted quickly—gentle heat started turning into something sharp, more urgent.

Lily’s breath hitched when his teeth grazed her bottom lip, and that tiny sound, which was barely more than a gasp, nearly undid him.

Harry’s fingers flexed at her waist in an attempt to keep himself sane. He wanted her. God, he wanted her.

Every part of her—shy and fierce and uncertain—was undoing him, piece by piece. The softness of her mouth, the way she clung to his shirt like she didn’t know what else to hold onto, the slight tremble of her breath. He could feel the heat building in his body, the ache of wanting to press her against the nearest wall and kiss her until she forgot her own name.

But he didn’t. He pulled his hips back when she went to press herself against him even more. Just slightly, so she wouldn’t make a huge deal of it.

But, then her eyes opened with a lidded daze and her lips were swollen with a maroon color so obnoxiously addictive, her breath uneven. Harry practically screwed his eyes shut to try and not think about how she looked right now.

Instead, he kissed the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, then her jaw. Slower now, softer. Trying to calm the fire roaring beneath his skin. She fell into his touch, a small giggle escaping her breath as he tickled his way down her neck.

“Harry,” she breathed, her hand fisting in the front of his shirt.

“Shh,” he murmured, kissing the hollow just beneath her ear. “I just… I just need a second.”

She pulled back, blinking at him at him as if something was off. “Did I do something—?”

“No.” He was firm, steady with his response. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong. You did everything right.”

Her brows drew together.

“I mean, I’m not exactly thinking gentleman-esque thoughts at the moment,” he admitted with a hint of humor, his voice raw now as he drew back. “But I want to make sure you know how much I want you. Not just when it’s hot and dizzy and hard to think. I don’t want you thinking that’s why I brought you here, or what I’m trying to get."

She stared at him for a long moment. Then, with a trembling exhale, she nodded as if to understand. And in that nod was something he hadn’t truly seen from her since on that table at the shop— undoubtably trust.

He kissed her again, just once. Slow. Thoughtless. Instinctively.

Then, without letting her go, he pulled her toward the couch, collapsing gently into it and guiding her down with him, cradling her against his side. She curled into him like she’d done it a hundred times, her body pressed to his, her hand resting on his shoulder as he held her close.

His chest rose and fell beneath her, slow and steady, but Lily could feel the tension in him still—just below the surface. That aching restraint felt so coiled up. The way his hand moved slowly along her back in comforting strokes, even though his jaw was clenched and his thighs were still coiled tight beneath her.

The apartment had gone still, the kind of stillness that came only after hours of slow conversation and soft touches, not the heated moment that settled between them.

The lamp was still glowing nearby, casting gold along the edges of the bookshelf and outlining Harry’s profile in warm light. They were curled together on the couch, Lily tucked into his side, her cheek resting against his shoulder, one of his hands stroking gently along her spine in slow, absent motions.

She hadn’t spoken for a while. Harry didn’t push either way. But then her voice broke the silence—barely above a whisper.

“I used to move too fast.”

His fingers paused, then continued—no rush, no shift in weight. Just presence, like he was acknowledging he heard her but didn’t need to say anything and break her thought.

Lily swallowed before she continued, finding her footing. “With guys. I’d just… go along with things. Let things happen. And I don’t think they meant to take advantage of that – I-I mean, not all of them. But it was like… once things started, I didn’t feel like I could say no. Or stop. Or even slow down.”

Harry didn’t speak but he bit the inside of his cheek as he listened, his hand moved to the back of her head, gently threading through her hair, grounding her there with him.

“They liked me more when I didn’t object,” she said, her voice shaking now, almost in disbelief she was continuing down this path. “When I didn’t ask for space. Or softness. Or… time.”

She felt her words catch as she kept speaking, so she stopped for a moment. His comfort didn’t stop, only intensified as they sat.

“I think for a while I thought I had to be that version of myself. Or no one would stay.”

She felt the shift in his breathing before he even spoke.

“You're in good hands here,” Harry said quietly, he kissed the top of her head as he let his fingers dive through her hair.

“I know.” She looked up at him, eyes shining, lashes damp. “That’s why this scares me more.”

Harry’s jaw tensed, like it physically hurt him to hear her say that and to watch her get teary over memories that she felt were difficult. He cupped the side of her face, his thumb brushing gently along her under eyes to the tears she felt ashamed of.

“I’m not here because I’m waiting for you to give me something,” he said to her directly, sitting up a bit. He had to tell her so she knew his truth. “I’m here because I see you. And I like you exactly as you are. Not in spite of how careful you are. Because of it.”

She blinked, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead—light, like a promise rather than a confirmation.

Lily let out a shaky breath and let her hand rest over his heart again, feeling its steady rhythm beneath her fingertips. “I’m not used to being allowed to take my time.”

“I'm sorry they weren't patient with you, and I’m sorry you didn’t feel you could be patient.” Harry said, eyes on her like she was the only thing in the world. “I don't want you to sit here and feel like I'm pressuring you, because I'm not."

Harry smirked for a moment as he shifted his legs, "It's just biology, really – you should feel good to know you turn me on, but I don’t need you to accommodate me."

Lily sat with her head on his chest, letting the silence fill the air as she listened to the sounds below them on the streets. Like it was the soundtrack that narrated their moment here on the small sofa in the unfamiliar apartment that had started to feel like her favorite book. Something she would revisit, something that would bring comfort every time she opened it.

They were still curled together on the couch, a blanket soft and bunched around their legs. The vulnerability in the room lingered like the last notes of a song—quiet, resonant, humming beneath their skin.

Harry let out a breath, long and low. “You know, I wasn’t expecting tonight to feel like this.”

“Like what?” Lily asked, voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt as she pulled at one of the buttons.

He tilted his head, eyes drifting toward the ceiling as he pushed his feet up on the coffee table, out in front of him. “Like I’m… not even thinking about what I can’t do with you right now. Just… what I get to do someday. Which, at this point, right now, is lie on this couch and stare at your cute little nose while you breathe on my collarbone.”

Lily huffed a small laugh and turned her face further into his chest, trying to hide the heat that rushed to her cheeks. “That’s romantic.”

“It is. Very romantic,” he said, mock-serious. “It’s taking everything in me not to climb on top of you and wreck you, but really all I can think about is your damn button nose.”

Lily blinked, caught completely off-guard—and then she laughed. Really laughed. That kind of soft, surprised laugh that left her glowing.

“You can’t say things like that when I’m emotionally vulnerable.”

Harry looked down at her, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Why not? You’re very cute when you blush, which is why I keep trying to make it happen.”

She tried to hide her smile but failed as she dug her face into his neck. “You’re such a menace.”

“I’m a patient menace,” he said, his voice dipping just enough to make her pulse quicken, looking at him this closely had made her think differently of him. The way that his skin was perfect; small moles and dimples and the scent of cedar and ash had coated her memory. “Which is far more dangerous, if you really think about it.”

Lily shifted beside him, trying to ignore the way his words settled low in her stomach. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Course I am.” His hand moved idly along the side of her thigh, fingertips trailing to help pull over the blanket. “You’re curled up against me, making these tiny sounds when I talk too close to your ear. I live for this.”

“I don’t make—”

“You do, trust me,” he interrupted, his mouth now just inches from her ear, his breath warm against her sensitive skin. “Especially when I say certain things.”

She stilled, feeling her heart beat faster. He didn’t move, either.

“Like what?” she asked, quieter now, pushing for an answer. She was playing a dangerous game, but Harry was down to push her further; make her squirm, make her blush so bad she would have to take a cold shower later.

He smiled back at her, thinking about what he could say to do just that. He almost didn’t know how to reply, opening his mouth before he shut it to rethink his answer. “You want me to prove it?”

“I want to know what you’d say,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

His hand moved again—slow, gentle, deliberate on top of her thigh. Her skirt was moving up her thighs, and he tried not to think about that. “I’d tell you how long I’ve been thinking about your mouth. Everywhere. How every time you bite your lip when you’re nervous, it makes me want to push you up a wall you just a little.”

Lily’s breath hitched at the boldness of his words; she could tell he had a filthy mouth when he wanted to. The cockiness oozed from him; she fluttered her eyes shut at the thought.

“I’d tell you I notice the way your thighs press together when I say something filthy, even if you pretend not to hear me.”

She swallowed, trying to be discreet at how her thighs pressed together just then. Of course he noticed.

“I’d tell you I think about you riding me, slow at first, real quiet like you can’t even manage a word,” he murmured, “until you get brave. And I think you're real brave, you know – I think you get in your own world."

Her eyes fluttered closed knowing he had completely won.

“And I’d tell you exactly what I’d do when you start to fall apart on top of me. How I’d hold you through it. How I’d talk you through it. How I'd–" He bit his tongue to keep from going.

Lily’s chest was rising and falling faster now, a slight tremor in her fingers where they rested near his ribs. But her voice—when she finally spoke—was steady. He flinched at the way that her fingertips felt hot against him, almost burning through the material of his shirt.

“And you wouldn’t push me?”

Harry’s hand stilled, then retreated, settling gently against her waist.

“Never,” he said. “This doesn’t work if it’s not yours too.”

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, her gaze unreadable. “You’d talk me through it?”

His mouth twitched into a smile as he stared at the ceiling then, huffing out a breath of laugh as he couldn’t believe she was teasing him like that. “Every word, baby. Every breath. Every goddamn second.”

A long pause stretched between them, thick with tension but not pressure. He waited—still, steady, letting her decide what came next. Lily’s lips parted. Her voice was soft, but certain.

“Okay.”

Harry didn’t know how to react, lifting his head to see where her thought process was.

“Not yet, though,” she said quickly when she realized that he had some concern written on his face. “But when I’m ready… I want that.”

He exhaled slowly, like he’d been holding that breath for hours. Then he smiled—soft and full of something deeper than hunger.

“Then that’s what you’ll have,” he said, almost simply, as if they hadn’t just been talking about something dirty but about something that he knew she needed, “Exactly how you want."

Harry didn’t say anything for a long moment. He just looked at her—really looked at her as if studying every freckle on her face—as if he could memorize the exact shape of her words, the way she said when I’m ready like it meant something sacred. And to him, it did. It was written in scripture.

She was still curled against him, her cheek against his shoulder, and his arm was resting lightly around her waist now. Not pulling her closer. Just there—like an anchor. Steady in the dark water to help make sure she didn’t float away.

His voice was low when it returned. Not playful this time, but with an earnest nature that fluttered the depths of his heart as he thought about his admissions.

“I think about you all the time,” he said, nodding into the universe. “Not just in the way you’re probably imagining. Though… those thoughts aren’t exactly rare. But,” He swallowed, “I just think you’re… really special.”

She smiled faintly, her eyes cast downward, heart beating faster now. The way he said it was unfiltered—blunt, but a hint of hesitancy that she barely saw from him. Like he liked wanting her but knew that he was human– he knew that she was just as capable as producing heartbreak as he was.

“I think about how you’d taste when you’re breathless,” he continued, voice sliding over her skin like velvet. “How your body would feel under me – not even just in a sexual way, but a personal way. How you’d look when you finally stop holding yourself back.”

A sharp inhale escaped her lips as she thought of the moments that Harry could have of her. Harry heard it. Felt it, but he didn’t pounce. Didn’t lean into it like a challenge. He waited, watching her closely.

“You can tell me to stop, and I will.” His voice was practically a breath – he wanted to give her the opportunity, the one that hadn’t been given to her prior. He wanted her to make the rules.

She didn’t – no, of course she didn’t. After a few more beats, he kept going, voice a little lower now, as if daring her to stay in the moment with him.

“I think about what your voice would sound like—messy and raw—saying my name when you’re close. Or when you want something but can’t say it out loud.”

Lily’s thighs pressed together. She didn’t even realize she’d done it until Harry’s eyes dropped—just briefly—to where her legs shifted beneath the blanket. His breath caught at the acknowledgement.

“And I think,” he said, pausing to brush her hair gently off her cheek, “about how good it’s going to feel when I finally get to have you. Not just your body, Lils. The way you trust. The way you unravel.”

She turned her face into his neck then, unable to hold his gaze, hiding in the space where his pulse beat steady just beneath his skin. Harry didn’t laugh. He didn’t tease her for getting shy in the middle of their own heat. He just smiled—something soft and wrecked and tilted his head so his lips brushed the crown of her head.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured into her, almost like to engrain it into her.

“I think I do,” she whispered, her breath trembling as she tried her best to maintain a steady voice.

His hand moved again, slow and lazy over her waist, fingers slipping beneath the hem of her shirt—but only just. The pad of his thumb brushed bare skin there, and it was electrifying, practically shocking him.

“You want to tell me what you want?” The way that his voice asked made her tremble, so softly it was almost a plea.

Lily hesitated at the way that he asked her. Her throat was tight. Not from fear—but from the weight of the want. The newness of it being okay to speak it, almost like she felt drawn in.

“I want to stay here,” she said finally, after a few moments. Even though she loved the way he spoke out to her, she wanted the opportunity to think of it. “Just like this. For a while.”

Harry nodded, eyes heavy-lidded but calm as he let the thoughts swirl around them like a cloud of alchemy. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple like it was a ritual.

��Then we’ll stay here,” he said, simplicity hanging between them. “Exactly like this.”

His fingers didn’t wander further, because he didn’t feel invited. His mouth didn’t ask for more. But his body stayed close—warm and steady—and his desire never left the room. It simply curled around them, like a quiet storm waiting to break when she was ready to call the thunder down.

And she would. God, she would.

But tonight, she breathed him in, curled tighter against his chest, and let herself rest in the heat of what they hadn’t done yet. And the sweetness of knowing that when they did—it would be everything. It was almost addicting, the thoughts, rather than the action.

They hadn’t moved in minutes, but everything about the space between them felt alive. Lily was nestled into the curve of Harry’s chest, his fingers grazing lazy circles over the sliver of skin just above her waistband. It was nothing, but it made her skin hum, made her breath stutter every time he touched that one spot again, again, again.

He hadn’t said anything since she told him she wanted to stay like this. And he hadn’t asked for more.

But her body told the truth. The way his thumb paused when she shifted her hips, not knowing if she wanted more or was asking for space. The way his voice had grown quieter, rougher, when he said her name just moments before.

“Still okay?” he murmured now, his lips brushing against her temple.

She nodded but gave him a quiet yes to confirm.

“Good.” He kissed her hair again, breathing in the sweetness of the vanilla of her shampoo. “But I’ll have you know that if you keep squirming like that, I’m going to start taking it personally.”

Lily’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and she buried her face against his collarbone. “I’m not—”

“You are,” he teased gently, his voice a little heavier now. “And it’s kind of killing me.”

She smiled shyly, but didn’t deny it. He shifted just enough to look at her, his eyes scanning her face carefully. “Talk to me, I’m ready to hear your voice.”

Her lips parted, then closed again. Her pulse was wild beneath her skin; she bit her lip as she let their eyes investigate each other’s again. She didn’t know how this felt so right. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to get it perfect,” he said, brushing his knuckles along her jaw as if to coax her. “Just tell me what’s in your head. Anything.”

She hesitated for the slightest moment; her gaze flicking down to his lips and then back up to his eyes that held so much curiosity and a ferocity of intrigue. Her fingers gripped the hem of his shirt, like grounding herself to him would make the words come easier.

“I want…” She stopped, swallowing. “I want you to touch me more.”

Something flickered in his expression—something sharp, almost like he wasn’t expecting her to be vocal about her needs. He just wanted to hear her, to listen to her, to do as she asked.

“You want me to touch you,” he repeated softly, his hand still on her waist, waiting.

She nodded again, so sure of what she wanted, but so unsure of how it felt to be listened to. “Just… slow. I get overwhelmed.”

“I know.” His thumb traced the slope of her hip, the way that his thumb brushed against her skin tickled her softly, making her bristle at the touch. Harry stopped for a moment, letting them settle. “But you want it.”

Lily breathed outwards, nodded again, “Yes.”

“Where?” Harry’s voice was direct, wanting full consent of the direction.

She exhaled shakily, trembling under his gaze, and whispered, “Anywhere you want. As long as you don’t stop talking to me.”

That broke something in him—in the quietest, most sacred way.

Harry leaned in and kissed her jaw, slow and careful. “I’ll tell you everything, sweetheart,” he murmured. “What I want. What I’ll do. How good you make me feel.”

Her breath hitched. She was already shaking under his hand, not from fear, but from anticipation so deep it made her bones ache. There was an adrenaline that was building up in her; the same kind of adrenaline that she had felt the day she got the tattoo from him. A shaking feeling that gave her a wound-up energy.

“I want to feel you,” she said, voice almost breaking. “But I need you to help me go slow.”

His hand came up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing just beneath her eye.

“I’ve got you,” he said, firm and low. “You say stop, I stop. You say slower, I’ll move like fucking honey. And if all you want is my hands and my mouth and my words? Then that’s all you’ll get. For as long as you want.”

Her body relaxed against his then, something in her melting completely, and the way she looked at him—hopeful, wanting, a little scared—was the most devastating thing he’d ever seen. She leaned in first this time.

And when he kissed her, it was deeper than before, hungrier—but careful.

Every breath they shared from then on felt like a promise. Every word he whispered into her skin was one more brick laid in the foundation of trust. And every inch he touched was earned like a medal of honor. Harry kissed her like the whole world had gone quiet except for her breathing; it was the soundtrack that played in his brain.

Lily’s hands had slipped up beneath his shirt—tentative at first, resting against the warm, lean curve of his ribs—but as he kissed her deeper, her fingers curled, wanting to feel more. She could feel the way that his muscles contracted, the way that he held himself back from moving further. It was a slow, deep want. He groaned softly into her mouth at the contact, like even the lightest touch from her could undo him.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he breathed, lips brushing against hers as he spoke.

She looked at him then, wide-eyed and flushed, her chest rising fast beneath the soft cotton of her shirt. “I think I do.”

Harry’s eyes darkened just slightly, but his hands stayed gentle—one braced behind her back, the other slipping beneath the hem of her shirt to trace slow, reverent lines along her waist. He watched her carefully as he did, his gaze asking permission even when his body begged for more. Lily didn’t stop him.

Instead, she leaned into him, shifting closer until she was straddling his lap, her knees tucked on either side of his hips. The move surprised them both.

Her breath stuttered. “Is this okay?”

Harry’s fingers tightened just slightly where they rested against her bare skin.

“Fuck, Lily,” he murmured, his voice low and thick as he felt her hands against his chest, moving down to his hips so that she could stabilize herself. The question hanging on his breath was pushed back to her, to solidify that her actions were matching her words. “Is it okay?”

His hands slid up her back, dragging her closer, but he still held back. His whole body was tensed in restraint, like every nerve was screaming to move faster but he wouldn’t. Not until she asked.

“You can touch me more,” she said, voice breathless but certain now; her shyness was masked by the spark of electricity that hung in the air between them. “Please.”

He groaned at that, tilting his head back slightly so he could look at her—his hands now cradling her waist like she was something rare and opportunistic; like being with her was a prize.

“I’ll show you anything,” he said. “Everything, if you let me. Just tell me what you want and it’s yours.”

He kissed her again—this time with more heat, more hunger. And this time, when his tongue swept against hers, she met him halfway. Her hands moved to the base of his neck; she felt his head tilt up to meet hers in a fit of need and angst. With each pull of his hair, an elicited groan escaped from between his lips into hers, the vibration creating a sense of need.

Her hands moved to roam beneath his shirt, and he helped her pull it over his head without breaking the kiss, letting her touch him freely now—her palms mapping his chest, his stomach, the ink that curled down his ribs like secrets.

He exhaled hard, forehead pressed to hers. “Lily…”

“Please,” she whispered, and that one word—so soft, so open—was everything.

His hands skimmed beneath her shirt next, lifting the fabric inch by inch, waiting for her to stop him. She didn’t.

When he pulled it over her head and tossed it to the side, his breath caught—his hands hovering, his eyes reverent, like she was art. Like he wanted to memorize every inch.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, barely able to breathe it.

She shivered, nerves fluttering in her belly, but when he touched her again—his hands trailing slowly along the curve of her waist, up her sides, then gently over her ribs. He kissed down her neck, down to the space just above her heart, always slow, always waiting for her to say no. Instead, she leaned into him, leaned into his touch to let her mind wander at the true feeling of want.

Not only did he want her – he wanted to treasure her. His hands were warm where they skimmed her bare sides, fingers brushing along the gentle curve of her ribcage. And then he paused—just under the swell of her breast, where a faint shadow of ink curved along her skin.

Harry pulled back slightly, catching the breaths that he felt he only had a few left, his fingers hovering.

The small, delicate linework he’d drawn months ago sitting beneath the pads of his fingers as he rubbed over it gently. Her first tattoo.

“God,” he murmured against the heat of her skin, brushing the pad of his thumb over it. “This is mine.”

Lily’s breath hitched—not from possession, but from the way he said it. Like it meant something more than ink. Like it was sacred.

“I almost didn’t go through with it,” she said, her voice barely audible.

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving the spot. “But you did. You let me mark you.”

His hand stayed there, palm warm and flat against her ribcage, feeling the rise and fall of her breath as if it was his only lifeline now. Lily reached for the hem of his shirt, fingers trembling slightly. He didn’t stop her; he just lifted his arms so she could pull it over his head, baring his chest to her, skin golden in the low light, scattered with ink and soft shadows.

Her hands rested against him—curious, slow—exploring the tattoos she’d only glimpsed before. One on his shoulder, a pair of birds settling on his collarbone, a large butterfly under his ribs. A name near his heart in small, typewriter lettering.

“Do they all mean something?” she asked, tracing the edge of one with her finger.

A huffed out laugh came from his lips as he shook his head, “No, not at all.”

She looked up at him, face flushed, eyes wide and unguarded. And then she kissed him. This time, it wasn’t careful. It wasn’t tentative. She kissed him with want, with memory, with the understanding that this had always been building to something. Her hands slid over his shoulders, his chest, fingers flexing like she wanted to know him by feel. She pulled him in, and he felt like a sailor in a sea filled with siren songs.

Harry groaned softly, low in his throat, and gathered her closer, one hand slipping to the small of her back, the other threading into her hair as her mouth moved over his. His restraint frayed—she could feel it in the way his grip tightened, in the way his hips shifted beneath her.

But he still held the line. Every kiss, every touch was for her—measured by what she asked for, what she invited. When she rolled her hips gently against him—just once—his breath stuttered, and he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers.

“Lily,” he whispered, his voice tight. “I need to slow down. Or I’m going to forget how.”

She nodded, humming softly as if to protest, but knowing that she respected his boundaries as she should her own. She knew that she should stop – she didn’t want to move faster but she found it very hard to remember that when she could feel the way that he protected her, she could feel the way that he drew her in so heavenly.

“I want you so badly,” he admitted, his hands shaking slightly now as they cupped her hips to stop her from moving. “But I don’t want to take advantage of just… this moment.”

Lily’s lips brushed his jaw. “You make it hard to want to wait.”

He smiled—wrecked, tender, and completely enthralled with the way that her voice dripped with anticipation and need. “I think that’s the point.”

His hands moved back to her tattoo; his mark. And the only thing he wanted to leave on her that night.

They stayed tangled like that for a while—breathing each other in, heartbeat to heartbeat, the space between them simmering with unspoken want. Lily was still straddled in his lap, her chest against his, their skin pressed so close it felt like her nerves were tuned to his every breath.

Harry’s lips were at her jaw, then her temple, then the corner of her mouth again. Slow, dragging kisses that made her stomach twist with need and something more dangerous—safety. Her hips moved once more—subconsciously, involuntarily—and she felt the way his body tensed beneath her, how he froze mid-kiss, like his control was snapping at the seams.

Then, he pulled away. Not far. Just enough to look at her, chest rising and falling faster now.

“Lils,” he said, breathless and rough and with enough clarity in his head to know that he had to stop, “I’m going to stop thinking straight.”

He could tell that there was an internal struggle as he looked up at her. It was such a different portrait; she was so shy and flushed and reserved when he met her – this was such a different version of her. The darkness in her eyes, the want and need of satisfaction was controlling her now, but he wanted to respect her and understand that this was not the time and place.

“Come here,” he murmured, and kissed her again—slow and deep, like a promise instead of a goodbye.

When he pulled back again, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

“I’m gonna get you something to change into, yeah? Then, I’m going to take the coldest shower of my entire life and try not to punch a hole through my own wall.”

Lily laughed softly at his comment, still breathless, her cheeks glowing with affection and embarrassment. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, I do,” he muttered, moving to stand and gently lifting her off his lap, setting her on the couch with a tenderness that made her heart ache. “Because if I look at you like that for one more minute, this blanket’s not going to be the only thing I rip in half.”

She blushed a red that he hadn’t seen yet. He disappeared into the bedroom, leaving her sitting in the golden spill of lamplight, her body thrumming with sensation, her lips swollen and tingling from his kiss. She let her fingers play with them for a moment, knowing how they tingled. A minute later, he came back with a soft, oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers.

“Boxers are clean,” he said, tossing them gently into her lap. “Shirt is… eh, probably fine.”

“Probably?” she teased, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

“Might have worn it without washing, hard to tell,” he replied, grabbing a towel from a hook by the door. “You can sleep in the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

Lily sat up straighter as she held the clothes between her fingers. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said, already heading toward the bathroom. “I, uh, probably need to just be alone.” He bit his lip thinking of what would happen if they fell asleep next to each other in the warmth of his bed after what he knew she was capable of.

He shook his head as he leaned against the bathroom doorframe. “Just leave a pillow out here for me?”

She watched him grab his own stuff, clothes and items in his hands before he turned back to her one last time, her heart tangled somewhere between longing and gratitude. Just before the bathroom door closed, he leaned back out, hair tousled, his eyes warm despite the fire still simmering just beneath the surface.

“Lily?”

She turned her head up, “Yeah?”

He smiled at the large eyes that stared back at him, “Tonight was perfect. Even if we didn’t finish what we started.”

She held his gaze for a long, humming beat. Then nodded, the shyness in her coming back, “Yeah. It was.”

Harry gave her one last smile before shutting the door softly, falling back into it as he let out the largest breath. His eyes shut as he tried to unravel every small feeling that he had ever felt for someone and tried to make sense of the way that he felt now.

He was doomed.

***

One Month Later

Rain pelted the tall windows in uneven rhythms, wind pressing against the glass in slow, heaving breaths with the scent of apples and blossoms from the wax candle that burned on top of the stack of books. The city outside was blurred—soft gold street lights smudged by the storm, like the whole world had decided to lean in, hush up, and listen.

Inside Harry’s apartment, the candle flickered in the corner, casting long shadows across the hardwood. The floor creaked faintly beneath them, the storm beyond the glass a steady hum beneath the stillness of the space.

They sat cross-legged on the rug in front of the low coffee table, a worn chessboard between them, the pieces already in mid-battle.

Lily was bundled in one of Harry’s hoodies, sleeves pushed up as if she had been getting serious about the game, bare legs tucked under her. Harry sat across from her in gray sweats and a loose black t-shirt, sleeves hugging the curve of his arms just right. His hair was still damp from the rain he’d run through earlier to grab the takeout from the corner store, curling around his temples in soft spirals.

“I hope you know you’re going to lose,” Lily said, flicking her rook across the board with precision; the way that her voice was soft and gentle was that much more enticing, as it didn’t have the edge of someone vicious.

Harry narrowed his eyes, thumb rubbing over the edge of his mouth in concentration. “You’ve gotten cocky.”

“I’ve been studying.” Lily answered with a bit of pride, taking a sip of her tea.

“Studying?” he repeated, eyes flickering up to her. “Oh, so that’s why you ignored me for half an hour the other night.”

With a bitten smile, Lily shrugged at him with nonchalance. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I was… strategizing.”

“You were watching tutorials on how to crush me at chess.”

“Same thing,” she said, smiling sweetly, innocently.

Harry leaned back on his hands, his legs stretched out long across the worn rug, spine curved just enough to show off the way his shirt clung across his chest. He was watching Lily the way he always did when he wanted to rattle her - calm, unreadable, mouth ticking up like he knew something she didn’t.

His eyes moved slowly across her face, cataloguing her as he studied the curve of her cheekbone, the soft flutter of lashes as she focused too hard on the board, the slight smirk she kept trying to swallow. His gaze lingered, like he was filing it all away for later.

“You know,” he said, pursing his lips with a low, teasing voice, “we never agreed on stakes.”

Lily looked up, raising an eyebrow, her bare thigh brushing against the edge of the table. “Stakes?”

“For the game.” Harry gestured lazily at the board, his fingers toying with a captured knight that sat on the edge nearest to him. “There should be consequences. And a clear winner.”

Her mouth twitched as she tilted her head, wondering how he could turn everything into a romantic gesture. “And what, exactly, do you have in mind?”

He grinned, devilish and slow. “If I win,” He threw his head back in thought before he turned it back up to look at her, “I get to choose exactly how I kiss you tonight.”

Lily blinked at him, and he didn’t miss the way her spine stiffened, the way her fingers fidgeted for half a second before stilling. Her throat bobbed as she moved her piece – a pawn this time.

He tilted his head, his voice dipping to a low murmur. “That includes where… how long… how soft—or how not soft.”

“You’re already kissing me whenever you want,” she managed, trying to sound bored but falling a bit short.

“True,” Harry said, shifting forward, his elbows resting on his knees now, gaze warm and steady. “But tonight, I want permission to be creative.”

Lily stared at him, her pulse starting to pick up speed. There was a curl of heat in her stomach that hadn’t been there a minute ago. She swallowed. “And if I win?”

Harry leaned in, closing some of the space between them. The warm glow from the nearby lamp threw soft shadows over his cheekbones. His voice came slower now, thicker. He moved another piece, a knight.

“Then you get to tell me how you want me.”

Thunder rumbled outside low and heavy, rolling through the walls like an echo of what was already building in her chest.

Lily nudged a pawn forward, fingers steady even if her breath wasn’t. “I think I’ll be keeping you on a leash.”

Harry’s smirk sharpened as he glanced at her legs, then up to her eyes. “God, that’s hot. Say more things like that.”

“Harry.” Eyes like darts hit him before she moved her own knight, to which he bit his lip. He hadn’t been pay attention, and that was clear before he needed to make a more strategic move.

He moved without hesitation, sliding his queen across the board until it landed with a soft click far too close for comfort.

“Check,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lily stilled, her eyes flicking to the board, then back to him. “You're kidding. Shit.”

Harry’s fingers trailed around the rim of his water glass, slow and deliberate as she turned her eyes from the game to him then.

“Am I? Because if I win… I think I’ll start by kissing your thighs. Just above the hem of these little shorts you’re sporting.”

Her breath hitched at his words, almost like they were a kiss of breath. She glanced down at her lap as though realizing for the first time how much skin she’d shown.

When she looked back up, his gaze was already there.

“And then I’ll ask,” he continued, leaning in just a little closer – he was trying to get into her head so he could win, “if you want me to keep going. Or if you’d rather just watch me lose my mind because you’re being such a tease.”

“You’re cheating,” she said, breath catching as she shook her head to get into the game again. She had to win now; she couldn’t have him getting away with this.

He raised his brows, shaking his head. “Nope. Just thinking ahead. Like any good strategist would.”

Lily flushed but kept her composure. Her hand hovered over a knight, then moved it swiftly, landing with a firm, clean snap.

“Check,” she said, daring him with her eyes.

Harry blinked, leaned in like he didn’t quite believe it, then exhaled through his nose. “Well, well. You’ve got me in quite a pickle here, love.”

Inching forward on her knees, holding herself up on her elbows above the game, closing the distance between them. The tips of their noses were just inches apart now. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You just didn’t notice because you were too busy staring at my mouth.”

He stared at her lips for one second too long.

“Oh, I noticed,” he said, his voice rawer now. “I’m just trying to think ahead for when I win, what I’ll get for it, that’s all.”

She froze. Her cheeks turned crimson, her hands going still in her lap.

Then, she whispered, “But, what if I do?”

Harry stopped breathing for a moment. His eyes locked on hers, the air between them tight and electric. His hand reached out slowly, placing a piece before his eyes darted back to her.

Lightning flashed outside, illuminating her profile in pale silver as if in response to his daring move. The crack of thunder followed with a low, distant roar that shook the apartment windows.

Lily stared at the board like it could give her answers, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

“You’re stalling,” Harry said, his voice soft and amused.

“I’m thinking,” she replied, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her as she tried to give him the best poker face.

He leaned forward again, dragging his gaze across her throat, her collarbone, down to where her hoodie hung loose over one shoulder. “It’s part of my charm. Verbal misdirection. Seduction tactics. I have layers.”

“You’re insufferable.”

He shrugged, the shirt pulling on his biceps. “And yet you’re half a second from climbing over this board and proving me right.”

“I’m half a second from destroying you,” she said, moving another piece deliberately.

He looked. Then smiled slowly. “God, that’s also hot. You’re ruthless when you play dirty.”

Harry shifted again, slow and catlike, stretching his legs out with deliberate ease as he leaned back on his palms. His shirt clung across his chest, the motion flexing the line of muscle in his arms, veins visible beneath the skin. It was effortless and sharp at once, and Lily caught herself watching the way his fingers flexed against the rug like he was resisting the urge to move toward her.

His voice was low and teasing, but there was a new weight in it now—something thick, laced with want. “What happens if I win the next game?”

Lily’s eyes narrowed, but her pulse betrayed her, jumping hard in her throat. She tried to hold onto a thread of composure. “We haven’t finished this one.”

He didn’t blink. Just tilted his head and gave her a look that could’ve set the entire board between them on fire—steady, heated, and too-intimate. His gaze dropped, slowly, down to her bare knees folded beneath her and back up to her mouth. The air between them buzzed.

“Just planning ahead,” he murmured, tongue licking over his lips. “You’re the slow burn type.”

Her breath caught. She rolled her eyes, but the pink blooming beneath her cheeks gave her away instantly. She was glowing from the inside out. “Is that a compliment?”

Harry didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he shifted forward on his elbows, the dim lamp casting his jawline into shadow. He watched her like he was about to devour every inch of her quiet—then said, voice dropping to something barely above a rasp: “It’s the highest one I’ve got to give.”

“You’re all soft gasps,” he continued, each word dragging heat across her skin, “and coiled tension and the tiniest sounds when I touch you just right. You act like you’re not asking for it, but your body language says it all.”

Lily’s hands trembled. Her knees dug into the rug beneath her, but she barely noticed. Her breath came unevenly now, and she couldn’t bring herself to look away from him. His stare held her there like a magnet. Still trying to pretend at composure, she pushed a piece forward. The sound of it on the board felt too loud, too final.

“Your turn,” she managed out, wondering how the game of chess had turned into a game of cat and mouse.

Harry didn’t move right away. His eyes had shifted now—less teasing, more reverent. Something unguarded flickered in his expression, like he was fighting between the game and what was happening underneath it. He looked at the board, then at her.

His fingers twitched at his side, but he kept them still. Instead, he leaned closer, eyes scanning her like he was reading every sharp edge and soft corner. Then, with slow precision, he made his move. Lily didn’t speak; she didn’t have to.

She reached for her queen, the pads of her fingers brushing the carved edge like it was glass. She lifted it and placed it down with the quietest, most lethal sound she could make.

Tap.

“Checkmate.”

Harry didn’t move. He sat perfectly still as if her voice had frozen something inside him. The rain outside had softened to a hush, like even the sky was stunned into silence. His eyes flicked to the queen, then to her face—lips parted, breath shallow, gaze full of something unreadable.

“No,” he said, breathless and barely laughing. “That’s illegal. I’ve been seduced into defeat.”

Lily beamed, her smile slow and wicked as it overtook her flushed features. “Nope,” she said. “Just outplayed.”

Harry exhaled like he couldn’t take it. “You cheated,” he muttered, voice hoarse, eyes still locked on hers. “With your mouth. And your thighs.”

She leaned forward slowly, closing the final inches between them until their noses almost brushed. Her voice dropped to a whisper, “Someone’s a sore loser.”

“Christ, Lily,” he groaned. Harry let out a sharp, strangled laugh—half disbelief, half desperation—and dragged a hand through his curls, tipping his head back.

She crawled around the board slowly, carefully—not like she was teasing him, but like she was still figuring out whether her body could be that bold. Her knees nudged gently against his thighs before she eased herself into his lap, featherlight, like she didn’t quite believe she had permission to be there until his hands came to rest on her hips.

His thumbs traced absent, grounding circles over the fabric of her shorts as she settled, still and quiet, hands pressed gently to his chest. He was so solid beneath her, muscles coiled under skin, breath just a bit too slow like he was trying to keep himself from reacting too quickly.

Her heart thudded against her ribs, but she tilted her chin and looked at him, nervous, but not backing down.

“I believe…” The way that she murmured was barely above a whisper, “I won the right to tell you how I want you tonight.”

His hands gripped just a little tighter at her hips, like he was holding onto restraint by the thinnest thread. His eyes searched hers, begging her to volley with his wittiness and eagerness.

“And how’s that?”

Lily swallowed, her lashes fluttering as she dropped her gaze to his collarbone, her fingers tracing a slow, trembling line along the edge of his shirt.

“I don’t know exactly,” She was so sure but so unsure of how to ask. “But I want to… try. I want it to be slower this time. But not soft. Just… different.”

His chest rose sharply beneath her hands, and she dared a glance at his face again. Harry’s eyes were wide and burning, like her words had reached straight into his chest and cracked something open.

“M'kay,” He breathed out, biting his lip. “I can work with that.”

She smiled—small and shy and impossibly lovely—and leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth. It was careful, unsure, but full of intent. When he didn’t move—just sat perfectly still beneath her—she kissed him again. Fuller this time. Her mouth brushing over his like she was testing how close she could get before she melted into him entirely. Her hands flattened over his chest, not searching this time, just feeling.

Heat pooled in her stomach as she adjusted in his lap, her hips shifting without thinking, slow and unsteady like they had before. This time, he didn’t stop her, he let her.

Harry let out a breath like he’d been holding it in all night.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he grumbled, voice ragged against her lips.

She hesitated for only a second before whispering, and narrowing her brows at him with blame, “You started it.”

That broke something loose in him—he laughed, soft and wrecked, and kissed her again, this time with just enough hunger to make her gasp. Her fingers slipped into his hair, tentative but needing. She rocked once more accidental, but very much not, and Harry pulled back with a low, guttural groan, his hands flying to her waist like a lifeline.

Instead of answering, she bent down and kissed his neck—slow, warm, her mouth brushing the sensitive skin beneath his ear. She nipped, then soothed the spot with her tongue, and he shuddered beneath her.

“I need to hear you say it,” he said, his voice wrecked now. “Tell me you want it.”

She leaned back, her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed, and looked him in the eye with her forehead pressed to his.

“I want this,” she said. “I want you.”

His exhale was audible—part disbelief, part reverence. But he still didn’t move.

“You’re sure?” he asked again, his hands frozen on her hips, like if he let them roam, he might lose all control. He flexed his fingers in almost an aching way. “Because I swear to God, the second I let go, I’m not going to be able to pretend I don’t want to keep you like this forever.”

Lily smiled softly, and then—without speaking—she lifted the hem of her hoodie and tugged it over her head, tossing it somewhere behind her to reveal that there had been nothing underneath. Harry’s breath punched out of him, his hands gripping her thighs now like he was trying not to fall apart right there on the rug.

“Jesus Christ, Lily.”

She just leaned in again, kissing him deeper, more insistent on what she really wanted. And when his mouth opened under hers, his restraint snapped—but only just. He kissed her like he meant to unravel her. Like she was the answer to every sharp edge he’d ever carried. His hands finally moved, up her sides, over the curve of her back, palms broad and reverent, holding her like she was both precious and powerful.

“You’re everything,” His breath was hot as he breathed into her mouth, nipping lightly at her lips as he did so, making her giggle, “You know that?”

She kissed him harder in response, pressing her chest to his as his hands slid beneath the waistband of her shorts, slow, testing the boundary line that neither of them had crossed before. She shifted in his lap again, letting out a quiet moan when she felt how hard he was beneath her.

“Fuck,” he breathed, head tipping back, eyes fluttering shut. “We need to slow down. I have to—”

She rocked against him again, firmer now, grounding herself there, and grabbed his face between her hands. He still didn’t move for a second as if feeling the internal struggle that she continued to test of him. Like he needed to feel her say it again with her body. And she did—reaching between them, helping him out of his shirt, kissing the ink over his heart, then his throat, then his mouth again like she couldn’t get enough of him.

“Please,” she whispered, mouth hot against his jaw. “No stopping this time.”

And with that, the game was over.

Harry held onto her tightly before throwing her around, her back hitting the rug as he turned them over. Her breath escaping her at his sudden roughness that made her back arch into softness of the rug.  The rug beneath them was rough but grounding, a scrape of texture against the softness of her thighs as she lay back, her body still buzzing from the way he’d kissed her.

Thunder grumbled outside, low and distant, like the sky was holding its breath.

Harry hovered over her, braced on one elbow, eyes raking slowly down her body like he didn’t know where to touch first – he felt like this was his first time and everything was new and exciting again. His free hand was spread across her stomach, warm and steady, thumb tracing over the faint line of her ribs. It was such a relief to have someone who wanted to listen to him; to keep it slow and to allow there to be such intimacy in a moment.

“You're so fucking beautiful,” His eyes drifted down her long torso that had practically opened for him; watching as her chest fill and emptied with every breath, “Lying here like this for me.”

Lily swallowed, cheeks flushed, her fingers curling into the fabric of the rug before she moved her right hand to pull at the hair on the nape of his neck.

“I’ve thought about this,” he went on, dragging his hand, dancing his fingers between her breasts, over her collarbone, to cradle her jaw. “Every night since you walked into my shop. I used to wonder what you'd sound like underneath me,” he whispered almost like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to speak out loud, “How you'd taste when you stop trying to be polite.”

She made a quiet, involuntary sound that she wasn’t even sure if she recognized, and Harry smiled—slow with the devilish feeling of sin, like he was unwrapping something delicate and unearthly.

“You like that?” Harry asked, his voice low and gravel-smooth, each word dragging along her skin like a slow flame that burned each inch of her. He nodded slightly, coaxing, his eyes locked on her face. “You like when I talk to you like this?”

Lily turned her head, her cheeks flushed so brightly it spread down her throat. She tried to hide in the crook of her arm, but he followed, chasing her retreat with his mouth—kissing her cheek, her jaw, the delicate spot just beneath her ear where her pulse thudded.

“You get so shy,” his voice was so soft, but set an electricity that made her ache.

“But you don’t stop me.” He kissed lower, the words barely a breath against her skin. “You don’t want me to stop.”

“No,” she whispered, the word barely a thread of sound. “No, no, no.”

He groaned into her neck, like her voice alone unraveled him. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Then his lips found hers again—hotter this time, deeper, slower. His hand slipped lower, between her thighs, fingers sliding deliberately beneath the waistband of her underwear, exploring with pressure instead of permission. Her breath caught, her body opening for him instinctively, hips tilting in invitation as she pushed herself into him. She was already soaked for him, dripping in anticipation, but he loved the long game.

Harry broke the kiss with a sharp exhale, dropping his head to her shoulder like he needed a second to breathe her in.

“Fuck, Lily,” he nipped at her neck, knowing he left a mark – God, he loved leaving her marked.

His fingers moved again—gentler now, more curious than greedy. He found her rhythm, learned it in seconds, and when he brushed right where she needed it, she gasped, her hips jolting in a need she had forgotten about. Her hands flew to the rug beside her, grasping for something solid.

“Look at me,” he said, and his voice was commanding now, but not harsh in any means.

Her eyes fluttered open. His face hovered just above hers so wrecked and beautiful, jaw tight, lips parted, but his eyes—his eyes were steady, dark with focus and want.

“I want to hear you when I do this,” His fingers circled her clit now, slow, devastating. “I want to know exactly how good I make you feel.”

She moaned—soft and sweet at first, her hand flying up to stifle it. Harry caught her wrist, gently but firm enough that made her gasp – almost choking a sob.

“No,” he said, tugging her hand away and pressing it above her head, stretching her out. “I want you loud for me, baby. So fucking loud when I touch you.”

She shuddered at the command, the praise, the sheer gravity of his attention. He wasn’t just touching her—he was watching her unravel, mouth parted like he was memorizing every sound, every twitch of her body beneath his hands.

“I’m gonna take my time with you,” he whispered, kissing down her shoulder, her collarbone as he watched the way that her nipples hardened as his mouth breathed cooly over them, “Gonna play with you until you’re begging for it. Gonna keep you on this floor until you forget how to say anything but my name, you understand?”

“Harry,” she gasped, hips rolling into his hand now, voice high and broken.

“I’ve got you,” he said, kissing her again, the heat of his voice was radiating through her, practically pumping the blood flow of her heart, “You just stay open for me. That’s it. Just like that. So fucking good.”

Her thighs trembled, the muscles in her stomach tightening as he slid her underwear down her thighs so slowly, kissing his way down her legs as he went. He pressed a soft kiss to the inside of her knee until she was breathless and shaking beneath him. His eyes tried to memorize the way that she laid along his floor, fully on display for him.

“Fuck,” he breathed out in a haze, pushing his hair on his forehead; the hunger in his made him feel ravished, practically growling as he pushed her knees apart. He could tell that she was tensing, waiting for him to come back to her.

His fingers found their way back to her, spreading her with two as he stared at the way that her head pushed to arch her back, gasping in a fit of need.

Harry moved down, his mouth attaching to hip as his eyes flew to her reaction. Shaking hands wrapped around his curls, almost like she was scared of his reaction to being touched as he let his fingers push inside of her – warm and tight. So tight.

When his mouth finally replaced his fingers, his tongue dragging slow, deliberate strokes against her, she cried out—a raw, desperate sound—and he groaned against her in response. His hands gripped her thighs like he needed to ground himself, to feel her coming apart in his arms. And still—he didn’t rush. Every time she got close, every time her breath caught, and her body tightened, he eased back just enough to draw it out.

It was never to tease or to play games. To worship her. To show her what it meant to be wanted with patience.

“You’re already falling apart for me,” he said against her skin, spitting directly on her as she gasped. Smearing his spit and her wetness together against his fingers, he practically came right then and there.

His eyes flew up to her, “You want more?”

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice trembling, shaking as she could feel herself starting to lose control but every time she started, he stopped and it only made her want to cry – she wanted it so bad.

Harry demanded more, “Say it.”

“I want more—please, Harry.”

“Mm,” He wanted to tease her – to embarrass her just a bit. “You don’t want my fingers, do you? You want more?” He nodded, trying to get her to push herself, “Tell me what you really want.”

Lily fidgeted on the rug, practically mewling at his words. Her face was flushed as she tried to cover herself, but his hands moved her arms again as he came face to face with her again.

“You want to be fucked, don’t you, angel?” He swallowed as he blinked a few times, wondering if he was pushing a boundary too hard, “I’ll give you my cock, but only if you say please.”

Lily gasped, her breath making the skin against her ribs tighten, “Please – God, Harry, please.”

The storm outside had quieted to a gentle patter against the windows, but inside, the air was thick with something louder than thunder—want, built slow and careful over weeks, finally breaking open between them like a held breath let go.

He kissed her deeply then, tasting every part of her mouth like he needed it to breathe. His body fit perfectly between her thighs, warm and heavy, the press of him against her core enough to draw a soft gasp from her lips. It made him groan—a quiet, wrecked sound, and he pressed his forehead to hers.

Lily arched into him, her hands skimming down his back, nails dragging lightly over skin, and he shivered from the contact. She’d never seen him like this—undone, desperate, but still so careful. Like holding himself back was the price of having her.

“You’re shaking,” she whispered.

“I’ve never wanted someone like this,” he shook his head. “It’s driving me out of my fucking mind, like I may need to be sent away after this.”

He worshiped her with his mouth and hands, slow and reverent, every sigh and gasp she gave him another thread snapping in his chest. Her thighs around his waist, her breath on his neck, the way she moaned his name like a secret—it nearly broke him.

Harry pushed his own sweats down, letting himself free of the practical torture. Lily’s thighs practically captured him, pulling him towards her as they fit together, Harry hovered above her, breath shallow, eyes dark and tender as he brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead. His thumb lingered at her temple, like she was something delicate and precious—not because she was fragile, but because she was giving him something no one else had earned.

“What do you need?” He asked against her, “Condom?”

Shaking her head, she blinked at the ceiling, wondering if she was really on earth any longer.

“N-No,” She swallowed, “We don’t – we don’t need one, if you don’t – I mean.”

The stuttering made him smirk, shaking his head as he pulled his lips into his mouth.

“No,” he shook his head, “I mean, I’m clean – I just meant - ”

“IUD,” Lily breathed out, feeling the weight of the small conversation that hadn’t been had. Not that it killed the heat of the moment, but Harry just nodded with confirmation to ensure that she was taken care of.

“Oh, sick,” his lopsided smile made her heart flutter, “So, I mean, theoretically,” He licked his lips, holding himself over her, one arm bent and the other pushed up, “Should I pull out? Like… I mean, do you…”

Lily blinked at him, shaking her head as she thought of it, “I… I don’t think I mind. I’ve never had someone… like, inside.” She bit her lip, knowing that it was trembling as she used her shaking hand to move some hair from her face.

“Really?” Harry asked, biting the inside of his cheek, “I mean, I don’t know… if you realized, but I do have a thing. About like,” Lily noticed the faint hint of color that may have been spreading on his cheeks now, “Marking.”

Lily swallowed, breathing heavy before she cleared her throat, “Um, like, I’m yours?”

“You’re so fucking mine,” Harry stifled a breath of a laugh before he shook his head, letting his mouth fall back down onto hers, “Fucking love marking you, baby. Mine, all mine.”

His body aligned with hers, skin with skin, the space between them shrinking until there was nothing left untouched. Everything moved slowly, deliberately—like they were memorizing the moment, not just physically, but in every breath, every shared glance, every heartbeat echoing between their ribs.

When he began to move, there was no rush. Just a gentle give and take, a rhythm born from trust and quiet longing. Lily gasped, a sound caught between surprise and surrender, and Harry stilled as he pressed himself in, letting his cock take every inch of her.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. “Just feel me. That’s all I want.”

Her hands clutched at his back, and she nodded, her body adjusting to him, inviting him in piece by piece. Every movement from him was careful, attentive, like he was listening to her body as closely as her words. And when her hips moved to meet his, when her breath hitched in time with his, something unspoken passed between them—an understanding, a vow made in silence.

It had been a while for both of them - since either of them had been intimate like this. Lily couldn't remember a time that she had felt so worshipped, so looked at. Harry couldn't remember a time when he cared so much about the person underneath him; it made his heart spiral in a frenzy of haze.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, barely able to form the words. “So fucking soft, baby. Fuck.”

She pulled him back to her mouth with trembling fingers, her eyes wide and heavy with want.

Their bodies moved together in rhythm, matched breath for breath, sigh for sigh. And when she started to tremble beneath him, clutching at his shoulders, he talked her through it—whispering her name, telling her how beautiful she looked, how perfect she felt, how much he needed her.

The room had heat and breath and the sound of skin meeting skin in a fervent, terrifying need. Every inch of them slick with sweat and want, tangled in each other like they didn’t remember where he ended, and she began.

Harry was moving deeper now, slower, but harder—like every thrust was significant and laced with a drug so addicting that he couldn’t stop if the room was on fire, like he wanted to make her feel it days from now. His voice was wrecked in her ear, low and constant, a stream of words that curled around her spine like smoke.

“God, Lily—fuck, you feel like heaven,” He struggled to practically breath as he felt her hips meet his,; he sat up for a moment, pulling himself out of her where he heard a bit of a reaction from her. “This pussy could make me religious."

Her fingers clutched at his shoulders, nails dragging over his back in jagged little lines that only made him groan louder. She couldn’t speak, it was like someone had taken her sound and replaced it with breath.

"You... feel so good," Lily murmured out, practically no voice left in her. The small vocals made Harry's ear perk up, like it was enough to keep him going.

“You’re so—tight, baby, so fucking good—taking me so well. So sweet. So fucking sweet.”

She whimpered beneath him, body shaking in an adrenaline high, breath catching with every roll of his hips. And still, he kept talking, kept praising her like he couldn’t get enough.

“You were made for this. For me. You hear me? This perfect little body—fuck.”

Her thighs tightened around him, and her breath stuttered, the pressure building like a crescendo she couldn’t quite name. Harry saw it—felt it. His hands cradled her face, eyes locked on hers like he needed her to look at him when she broke.

“That’s it,” he whispered, lips brushing hers. “Let me see it. Let me hear it. Don’t hold back now, baby—give it to me.”

She gasped, high and desperate like she was about to cry, but Harry knew that it was just pushing her to the limit. “Harry—”

Her voice shattered into a cry as the wave crashed over her, her back arching, hips locking around him, her entire body burning and trembling and opening. It was an all-encompassing need that her body clung to him to stabilize her high to the tallest degree.

And he lost it. Harry groaned, deep and broken, his forehead pressed to hers, his rhythm stuttering as he chased the feeling of her falling apart beneath him.

“Jesus—Lily, I’m—fuck, I’m right there, baby—don’t stop looking at me—don’t stop—”

He came with a ragged moan, his entire body felt like he was flat-lining, chest heaving against hers like something sacred had broken loose inside him. His hands shook where they gripped her hips. His mouth found hers again, wild and uncoordinated, but desperate—hungry for her even now. Her hands wrapped around him tightly to keep him as close to her as physically possible.

They stilled together, bodies wrecked and breathing each other in like air. Lily blinked up at him through heavy lashes, her chest still rising and falling in shallow waves. Harry was staring at her like he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life, and the angels from heaven had come down to get him.

“God fucking damnit,” He breathed out without realization that his entire bodily pressure was laying and pressing Lily completely. She felt the safeness and the gratitude, wanting to be buried like this forever. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. Smiled—slow and dazed with a stare so lost in space that she could barely understand what was happening around her. “I’ve never been better.”

He exhaled, lifting up just a bit to get a better look at her underneath him. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Me either.”

Harry brushed his thumb along her cheek, watching her as if he still couldn’t believe she was real. Lily felt the urge to smile, but her candor was sleepy and wrecked and glowing.

“I feel like the rug might be embedded in my spine now.” She muttered out, laughing just a bit as she tucked some of Harry’s curls behind his ear.

Harry laughed, pulling her closer. “I’ll buy you a new spine, if that’s what you need.”

She closed her eyes and tucked her head under his chin, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel scared. She felt chosen.

Maneuvering themselves, Harry finally felt the need to reposition them, laying on his own back as he stared at the ceiling with her. Lily moved instantly to lay next to him, cuddling up to rest her head on his chest as he pulled her close.

They lay tangled on the rug, breaths slowing, bodies slick with the warm aftermath of what felt like a lifetime compressed into a few hours. Lily’s head rested against Harry’s chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat a quiet comfort against the storm still murmuring outside. Harry’s fingers traced lazy circles along her spine, his touch featherlight now, as if afraid to break the fragile bubble they’d built around themselves.

Eventually, he murmured out, “You know, I think I’m going to have rug burn.”

Lily lifted her head, blinking up at him with a tired smile. “Rug burn?”

He grinned, a crooked, breathless smile. “Yeah. This little rug? It’s seen more of us than any piece of furniture should.”

She laughed quietly, the sound light and warm in the hush. “You’re ridiculous.”

The room was dim and golden, all corners softened by the warm spill of the lamp and candle that had started to flicker with the burnt down wick. Rain still kissed the windows, quieter now, more like a lullaby than a storm. Their clothes were scattered in lazy pieces across the floor as Harry and Lily tried their best to redress themselves.

Lily started to stir first, her skin flushed, her hair damp with sweat and curling at her temples. He started to feel her shift a bit in the quietness, and as he looked over at her, she started to lift her head.

“I should go to clean up,” her voice hoarse and quiet, her fingertips brushing at his collarbone as she lifted on her arm.

Harry groaned softly, pressing a kiss to the hollow of her elbow. “Can’t believe you want to move. I was hoping we’d just fuse to the carpet.”

She laughed—sleep starting to become more of a need than just a want, still breathless. “I don’t think your back would survive it.”

“You’re not wrong,” he muttered, rolling onto his side with a sigh, carefully untangling their legs.

Lily sat up slowly, her body aching in that good, golden way. She reached for the shirt he’d discarded earlier and tugged it over her head before padding barefoot down towards the small bathroom, her silhouette briefly lit by the hallway light as she disappeared into the bathroom without another glance.

Harry watched her go, arms folded under his head, eyes soft and dazed. There was something in the way she moved—still a little shy, a little unsure, but comfortable now. Like she wasn’t afraid to take up space in his home anymore. He sat up with a groan, grabbed a blanket off the nearby chair, and tossed it over the rumpled rug before pushing himself up and stretching. His muscles ached in all the right ways, but his mind had already drifted to his bedroom.

He had put his sweatpants back on, starting to get ready for bed by making sure the door was locked, the windows were shut, the lights were off. He flicked off the last lamp on his way down the hall, the apartment falling into quiet shadows behind him.

By the time he reached the bedroom with two cups of tea, Lily was already there.

She stood near the window, back to him, gazing out at the rain-slicked city. She wore only his shirt—long on her frame, hem brushing the tops of her thighs—and a pair of pale cotton panties. Her damp hair clung to the back of her neck, and the faint curve of her bare legs were decently on display.

Harry stopped in the doorway. His breath caught as he just stared and admired.

It wasn’t because she was half-naked, but because she looked like she belonged there. In his shirt. In his space. Like a painting he wasn’t supposed to touch but he had somehow been invited into. Lily turned slightly, noticing him. Her lips curved, soft and self-conscious.

“What?” Was all she could muster to say as she bit on her lip in a way that made Harry’s eyes glow with significant admiration.

Harry blinked and shook his head, he could barely look anywhere but forward like he was afraid she’d disappear if he even looked to the side.

“Nothing,” He answered, “Nothing at all.”

She flushed, tugging at the hem of his shirt, suddenly bashful again. Harry crossed the room in a few slow steps and reached her to set her tea down on the bedside table then. She laughed as he tugged her gently onto the mattress, both of them sinking into the sheets in a tangle of tired limbs and lingering heat.

Wrapped in his shirt, tucked against his chest, Lily felt something settle inside her—a hum, a knowing, like she’d finally found where she was meant to land. Harry pressed a kiss to her temple, his fingers sliding into hers beneath the blanket.

“I was scared of this,” she whispered, her voice low and vulnerable in the hush.

“Of what?” Harry asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“This kind of closeness. Letting someone see everything. It’s... it used to feel dangerous.”

He was quiet for a moment, one hand stroking the soft skin at the small of her back.

Then, he opened up, a completely different thought coming acrossed him, “You ever read The Little Prince?”

Lily tried to think, shrugging a little bit as she thought, “Not since I was a kid, I don’t think.”

“Well, there’s a line in it that stayed with me,” he told her. “‘One sees clearly only with the heart. What is essential is invisible to the eye.’”

He went on, voice softer now. “I didn’t really understand it when I first read it. But now, I think it means that the things that matter most aren’t what people show you. It’s what they try to hide. And when someone lets you see that... it means everything,” He turned his head, eyes laying on her as she looked back at him. “Reminded me of you, I guess.”

She looked up at him then, eyes shining.

“That’s what you did,” he said. “You let me see you. And I’ll never take that lightly.”

She didn’t respond with words. She just kissed him—slow, deep, and filled with everything she didn’t know how to say, showing him that not only did she see him, she felt him – every inch of him with a certainty that made her scared to death and hopeful all at once.

***

A Few Weeks Later.

It was a Friday afternoon when Lily decided to walk back into the shop. The bell over the tattoo shop door gave a soft jingle as Lily stepped inside, her hands tucked into her jacket pockets, heart thudding despite the knowledge of who was inside and who she was there to see.

Harry looked up from behind the counter, caught mid-sketch of another project he had been asked to create, his curls tied up messily in a clip that he had been sporting for the longer hair, and another pencil tucked behind one ear. His glasses had started to slide down his nose before he lifted his eyes to look up at who had come in.

“Well, well, well,” he said, that lopsided grin, the one that always started in his eyes before it reached his mouth was on full display. “If it isn’t my favorite distraction.”

Lily shrugged, trying to play it cool, though her pulse betrayed her. “Thought I’d come in for something permanent.”

His brow arched at the confidence she wore; so different than she had looked when she previously stood there. “What – you here for another tattoo?”

She reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a small, carefully folded piece of paper, shaking it in front of him. It looked fragile somehow creased but smoothed out, like she'd been carrying it with intention. She held it out with quiet fingers.

Harry took it from her without a word, unfolding it slowly. His thumb traced the edge of the paper unconsciously as his eyes scanned the familiar handwriting. And then he felt himself start to chuckle, start to shake his head before he looked back up at her and then down at the paper.

The quote sat in the center of the page like something sacred.

One sees clearly only with the heart.

The room went quiet, except for the low hum of the shop lights and the rain sliding down the windows. Harry didn’t speak right away. His expression softened, all of his usual wit and casual confidence falling away, stripped bare in the span of a heartbeat.

He looked up at her, blinking like he was seeing her in a new light. “Lily…”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, shifting slightly under the weight of his gaze. “I want it here,” she said softly, reaching to touch the inside of her left arm—just below the bend of her elbow. “Just small. Simple. Just for me.”

She paused, then added, “But I want it to come from you, of course.”

Something flickered across his face—something deep and quiet and unspoken. He glanced down at the quote again, then back at her, as if trying to be sure he’d really heard her right.

“You know what this means, right?” he asked, voice hoarse with more than just surprise. She nodded, eyes steady despite the way her fingers curled in her coat pocket.

“Well, to me, it means I see you too.”

And just like that, all the air seemed to shift between them; thicker now, heavier with meaning. The kind of meaning that didn’t need to be spoken to be understood. Harry stepped around the counter, sleeves pushed up, falling into a space of pure obsession and completely on a different planet. There had always been a part of him that knew that he would find this, but when he looked at her, he realized how much of him had been waiting for someone like her all along.

No teasing. No smirk. Just his fingers sliding into hers—timid but foundational, warm but alive, and there.

“Let’s make it permanent, then.” he told her, nodding. Without another word, Harry gripped her hand into his, pulling her back to his work station – back to where it all began.

Back to where he knew he was in love. And to be loved, is to be seen.

[a-hazbin-reader]

I just found your blog today and OUUUGHHH ALL THE X READERS ARE SOOO GOOD? ESPECIALLY THE PLATONIC ONES? WE LIVE FOR THE CHAOTIC Y/N <3 FUCK EM UPPPP <333

If you're looking for ideas, what about a reader that is friends with both Rosie and Alastor and notices that the reader is catching feelings for Alastor? I think she'd be support them, maybe poke Alkastor since he's not likely to get the hint wioth reader not saying it directly lol

Thank you for considering and I hope you're having fun out there! Ur favs loooove yooou <33

This is just so adorable????

Rosie X Reader Headcanons

Plus a little Alastor X Reader too

❌️Romantic

✅️Platonic

TW: Reader being BULLIED with affection, Rosie interferes with everything, Romantic Alastor X Reader

Description: ☝️⬆️

Rosie claims that matters of the heart are her specialty, and who is anybody to disagree with her??

She is quick to identify what someone is feeling and her friends are no exception to the rule

So when she notices you're starting to act strangely around your mutual friend Alastor...she's quick to figure out what's going on with you

You and Alastor are having drinks together and you're laughing a little too much?? Cheeks a little too pink?? Oh she saw that

Alastor is singing and dancing?? Rosie couldn't help but notice that you were completely enraptured by him, hanging onto every moment

You also happen to have a bad habit of looking away whenever Alastor compliments you, trying to hide a blush perhaps?

Well aren't you just adorable

Now Rosie won't corner you or anything like that, she won't pry the truth out of you even if she's dying to

But she does kind of trick you into admitting you're feelings to her, inviting you out for the day and slyly bringing Alastor up

You're so cute when you're flustered and choking on your drink

"Now now~ There's nothin' to be embarrassed about! Just let Rosie know what you're feelin' and she'll sort it out for ya!"

She's so good to you

"I guess my head has kinda been all over the place lately..."

Rosie slowly gets the truth to come out of you, and boy, is she pleased as punch to find out you're falling in love with Alastor

All Rosie wants is her two friends to be happy and if she can make it happen?? She'll make it happen, she's putting all her cards on the table for this one

She promises you that she won't tell your secret or intervene in any way

But she forgot to tell you that her fingers were totally crossed

Rosie tries to start out small and subtle, even visiting the hotel and getting the others involved

Suddenly everyone is talking about you and how talented you are, how lovely you always look, what you did today

"Y/N, look at that outfit! You look fucking hot today!"

"Uh..thanks Angel..?"

Charlie and Vaggie are always pairing you and Alastor together for anything they can think of

Niffty has suddenly taken to tripping you in front of Alastor but you needn't worry, he always catches you

Husk tries to stay out of it initially but even he gets caught up in it, admitting you two would be good together

Even random people on the street are giving you extra attention whenever you're out with Alastor

Alastor can't seem to get you out of his head all of a sudden, can't shake the intrusive thoughts of you

No matter

When being subtle doesn't work then Rosie switches gears, taking a page out of Niffty's book

No she's not going to trip you

Finds excuses to have you run errands for her, somehow always leading you to bumping into Alastor

And Alastor, ever the gentleman, always walks you back and keeps you company along the way

He finds himself getting more and more fond of you, more so than he was before, he feels a little strange

Finds himself wanting to be closer to you, seeing you in a different light than before, were you always so pretty to look at???

Rosie is pleased with her progress but annoyed by the fact that Alastor still hasn't taken a hint and that you still haven't confessed

That's fine, she's got ways

She starts having flowers and little gifts sent to you when she knows you're with Alastor, faking a secret admirer

Oh he doesn't like that

Alastor feels something ugly twist in his gut when he sees your face flush as you delicately pick at the flowers, flattered

After the fourth gift that was sent to you Alastor started to get more than annoyed, trying to figure out who was taking up your attention

Imagine his surprise when the paper trail leads back to Rosie

Okay now he's legitimately worried about losing you, Rosie is a smooth she-devil

"Alastor! What brings you here-"

"I know what you've been up to, my dear."

Rosie isn't nervous, but she's definitely surprised that he figured her out, she was only trying to help you out

Alastor skips all the pleasantries and immediately just asks her if she's trying to court you

Oh...so he got it wrong...that's hilarious

"Oh my stars~! No no no~!" She literally can't stop the laughter at this point

Now Alastor is confused, why was she pretending to be your secret admirer then?

Rosie tries to lead Alastor to his own conclusion about why she did it but all of a sudden he's turned into an idiot

She really doesn't want to out your secret

But she also has been working towards this for months now

So she blurts out the fact that you're in love with him and that she's been trying to set you both up together this entire time and it feels so good to let it all out and-

Alastor simply holds a hand up to stop her, looking a little overwhelmed by the news but Rosie also detects a hint of relief??

Maybe he did grow an extra soft spot for you after all??

After confirming with Alastor that you did indeed explicitly tell her that you fell for him, Rosie watches him leave

She also refuses to apologize for interfering in his love life, a girl has gotta look out for her friends

She honestly doesn't know which way things are going to go but is pleasantly surprised when you give her a ring the next day

"Rosie! Are you free today? You won't believe what happened last night! I can't wait to tell you!"

They should call her Cupid from now on

She always hounds you for the details on your dates and is always giving Alastor tips on what you would like

"Come now, was snuggling really all you two did after dinner?"

"R-ROSIE-"

"Oh Alastor, you should really get those earrings for Y/N~! They would absolutely sparkle on them~!"

Tells everyone that she's the reason you two are together, she's just so proud of herself

She wants to plan your wedding for you

WOAH

This one was such a cute idea!! I really hope it's what you wanted!!

[megwritesriddles]

I. Would. LOVE. NSFW head cannons for Elliot (SDV) if you have the time!! 💕💕💕 I just romanced him for the first time and adore him.

MDNI 18+

thank you sm for the request!! I hope you like it!! loooove Elliott but only romanced him for the first time recently too so hopefully I got a good enough grasp on him!!! (´ ω `♡)

word count: 0.7k

all fandom masterlist | sdv masterlist

Definitely a super ‘old-fashioned’ romantic type

He likes to light candles and scatter rose petals whenever he wants to make love to you

He never calls it sex or fucking, it’s ‘making love’ or ‘carnal pleasure’ or a myriad of other flowery euphemisms he comes up with

I imagine he often pours you a drink beforehand, wine or champagne (some nice homemade juice if you don’t drink alcohol), enough to make you feel nice and loose but never enough to impair your consent

Will always take time to admire your appearance, even while inside you, waxing lyrical about your beauty

Such a rambler! He is constantly talking to you during sex, praising you, admiring your beauty, telling how good you feel around him, how good you taste

(I feel like he would sometimes say something so poetic that he’d want to stop and quickly go write it down, but after you got annoyed with him the first time he did it, he decides pleasing you is more important than his writing)

Loves to tuck your hair behind your ear or push it from your face.

“Eyes on me, darling, show me all the pleasure you’re feeling,”

He’d totally be a missionary guy, but then I feel he’d also be up to try out some very out there positions if he comes across them in his reading

Finds you irresistible, always admiring and touching

So! Many! Erotic poems and letters! Like so many… seriously…

He would definitely send you a normal love letter and include an obscene line right at the end to mess with you

“All in all, I am looking forward to the upcoming Egg Festival! I cannot wait to bury myself between your immaculate thighs once more and feast until the sun rises in the east, your pleasure is my sole reason for being, the ultimate balm to my weary soul. Write back as soon as you can, my dear, I am dying to know how you have been!”

You are the muse for all of his works, he has mostly been writing erotic romance since the two of you began dating

If he’s trying to figure out how to write a scene, he will just get you to re-enact it with him… and then once again because he forgot that he was meant to be making mental notes the first time

He’s very passionate, often sweeping you off your feet with romantic gestures, suddenly overtaken with a ravenous need for you which may lead you to secluded corners or behind trees in the forest

Although he prefers to set up a romantic atmosphere, these 'rendezvous' are something he craves from time to time

Some nights he has you sit between his legs, his fingers buried inside you as he reads an erotic novel aloud over your shoulder, matching the movement of his fingers to the action in the novel

Definitely has such a sexy deep voice he puts on when he reads to you

Lots and lots of kissing! on your lips and butterfly kisses all over your body

Definitely loves it when you run your hands through his hair

Whispers sweet nothings to you in public

“I can’t help but remember how divine you looked beneath me last night,”

“I do so love it when you bite your lip, my darling,”

Would definitely love to see you in luxurious clothing or lingerie

A big fan of perfumes, always notices the moment you try a new one

A lovely scent on your skin could easily be enough to arouse him

He is all about beauty and sensuality and the experience of it all

The smells, the tastes, the sounds, the sights!

Definitely would love to listen to soft music while you make love 

Or the sounds of the rain or the ocean while you are safely indoors and warm in each other’s embrace

Would enjoy tracing your body with a feather, caressing the curves and plains reverently

So much hyperbole and melodrama! You are a goddess, he would move the earth for you, no one has ever been so alluring as you! But he completely means every word

-------------------------------------------------------

hey you! want to get tagged in my work when it comes out? click here! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

[simpfortheseven]

Caleb smut!! Something about them being in college together + jealousy!!

EEEEEEE CALEB IS MY FAVEEEEE (and Zayne) AND I LOOOOVE COLLEGE AUs!! Also Ive never been to college in the traditional sense (i did college and highschool at the same time/both online) sooo plesae forgive me if it seems very "mean girls" or 2000s movie party. Thats really all i got to go on. ALSO I DIDNT PROOF READ THIS AND IT TOOK ME LIKE A WEEK TO WRITE SOOOOO

sorry this is so long, Im terrible at cutting out unnecessary shit. Scroll to the "keep reading" for the actual smut. I tried to keep everything as gender neutral as i could!

AN: i had something else actually written for this but it was WAAAYYY too long and also i ended up including Zayne and Caleb like BOAF at the same time, so i saved it and decided to re-write this! I'll be posting the other one after I finish it!

Smut warning! MDNI!!!

2225k words

summary: Caleb was always surrounded by girls. He was popular, handsome, smart, and since he was a bit older he could go out to the parties and drink. But you're getting tired of not having his attention.

tag list: use of Pipsqueak (personally I love it). mentions of MC and Caleb being siblings NOT DURING THE SMUT THO! drinking alcohol, whiney pathetic Caleb, MC on top, hand job, p in p/v, chin grabbing,

As you walk up the steps to the large house, you could already hear the bass in your feet. Going to this house party had been your friends idea, and after hearing Caleb would be there, you readily agreed.

You and your childhood friend had been inseparable ever since the wanderers appeared. Being taken in by Josephine, the two of you hadn't been apart at all until Caleb had graduated high school. Then he left you for a year while he went to Linkon University. You had decided to join him to his delight.

When you started at Linkon University though, you found out that Caleb was popular across the entire campus. Somehow people he never went to class with knew about him. It made sense, he was kind, sociable, and gorgeous. But it made your stomach twist with jealousy every time you saw him talking to another girl. You never admitted it to anyone, but your feelings for Caleb were more than brotherly. And now it had been years- he's a senior, you're a junior, and he's going to be leaving again to go to aviation school.

You enter the party and are immediately met with drinks, music, dancing, the occasional odd couple making out in the corner. You search for Caleb and can't see him anywhere, so you follow your friends to get drinks and dance.

An hour passes and you still hadn't been able to talk to Caleb. You saw him once from the corner of your eye, but when you made your way over he was already gone. Asshole, he was clearly too busy with other girls..

Finally you're able to escape the crowd and go upstairs to the bathroom. As you round the stairs, you see Caleb cornered by a girl in even more revealing clothing than yourself.

Caleb glances over at you, a pleading and helpless look. The girl steps closer and he's backed against the wall. As a last ditch effort he squeezes past her and stands next to you. You grab his arm possessively.

"He's with me. Like, my boyfriend," You look the girl up and down as if threatening her to come closer. "Stop trying to get his number."

Normally you'd never be so bold as to claim Caleb and you were dating, but this time something felt different. Perhaps that was the alcohol talking. The girl scoffs and turns towards the nearby bathroom and leaves, Caleb sighs as she does. You drag him out of the party and towards his apartment building across campus.

"Thanks, Pips," He sighs as he starts walking home with you. "She was following me the entire party. Every time I tried to come find you, she drug me back to the beer pong or outside."

"I'm glad I was there. She seemed insistent." You say as you make your way to Caleb's apartment building. He was a senior with his own apartment, what girl wouldn't love that? You mentally scowl at the thought of him there with another girl.

"I'm just glad you gave me an excuse to leave" He sighs and glances down at your hands. He was still holding it tightly in his. He lets go of you, his ears turning red as he clears his throat. "You've been drinking. Why don't you crash at my place?"

You nod and hug yourself. Something about him letting go has your blood boiling in a jealous rage. Why wont he hold your hand? He goes inside the building and presses the elevator button for you, then holds the door open as you step in.

"Caleb?" You ask softly after the doors close. You aren't sure if its the alcohol making you braver but you can't help but ask, "If I wasn't at the party would you have wanted her to come home with you?"

"What? Pips- No way! I've never brought a girl here," He scoffs at the thought, which makes you frown. Didn't you count as someone coming back to his place? You try to hike up your low cut shirt to be less revealing as he opens the door to his apartment.

The smell of teakwood and spiced apple hits you- a candle you bought him for his last birthday. It was nearly pitch black outside except for the street lamps, but you don't need a light to find your way around. You go over to his couch and plop down. Your feet hurt, choosing to wear heels tonight was a bad decision.

"Here," Caleb offers you some water. You take it but chide him,

"I didn't drink enough to be drunk. I'm perfectly fine, Mr. Worry Wort."

"Uh huh, I remember last year when I had to hold someone's hair back while they-"

"Caleb!" You gently punch his shoulder. "I was young and stupid, I've never been drunk since then."

He laughs softly and rubs his arm. His laughter brings a heat to your cheeks. You notice how close the two of you are, the lighting is low, it would be pretty romantic if Caleb was interested in you. Which reminds you,

"I'm glad you didn't bring that girl here. I would have been pretty mad," You state honestly.

"Mad?" He tilts his head and gasps, flabbergasted, yet he wears that cocky smirk he dons when being sarcastic. "Well for one, like I said, I've never even had a girl here, and two, why would it make you mad?"

"So I don't count like bringing someone to your apartment?" You set your water on the coffee table and turn to face him.

"Pips, what's gotten into you?" He leans back against the opposite end of the couch. "No you don't count as bringing someone back to my place, you're my best friend,"

You lean forward, one hand on the head rest and one on the other side of his thigh, caging him in slightly. "Caleb, I don't want to be just your friend. You've been too busy talking with other girls, and school, and treating me like a childhood friend to notice me! I've always been right here, begging for you to notice me, to notice how much I've liked you, and you haven't yet!"

The silence after your statement is deafening. Shit, you messed it all up. You're quick to back away but he grabs your wrist.

"Don't," He pulls you fully on top of him. "Don't say something like that and then run away, Pipsqueak."

"Cay," You mumble. "I don't want to ruin our friendship. I'm just.. Jealous. Im jealous of all the other girls hanging onto your arm and-"

"But I always come back to you, don't I?" He murmurs as he shifts back on the couch, one hand coming to rest on your waist. "No matter how many other girls practically threw themselves onto me, I waited. I only wanted you,"

You gulp. He was so close, inches from you, you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. You lean in closer until you're just shy of kissing him. "Tell me you mean it. That you only want to be mine,"

"I'm all yours," He whispers against your lips, meeting your eyes searching for permission to bridge the gap between you. You nod, and that's all he needs before his lips are on yours. His kiss is soft and sweet, but there's a hunger in you both that has you deepening the kiss, reaching up and cupping his cheek. He, in return, pulls you closer by your waist so you're fully seated in his lap.

You move the hand that's not cupping his cheek to his chest. His chest was firm, the scrawny highschooler you remember had been bulking up. It makes sense, part of his aviation school would be physical training. Still, you can't help but want to explore his body.

As if sensing your desire, he reaches between the two of you and pulls off his shirt, pausing only for a moment before his lips are back on yours, rougher than before. Your hands seem to have a mind of their own as you gently feel his chest.

You take a leap of faith and gently bite his bottom lip. He makes a sound, a small whimper, and it sends desire coursing through your body.

He whines softly. "Don't bully me, Pipsqueak,"

"Can't help it," You mumble against his lips. "I've waited too long to have you like this."

"Then have me however you want," He murmurs against your neck, kissing the skin feather light. It sends a shiver down your spine, which only encourages him to do it again. In an attempt to make him stop, you rock your hips against his. He bites his lip to hold back a gasp. You chuckle softly and continue.

"I said, don't bully me," He says breathlessly. "And don't start something you aren't 100% sure about, Pips,"

"I'm sure about everything I'm doing," You mutter, leaning down to kiss his neck. His skin is soft, warm, and you cant help but bite where his shoulder meets his neck. He moans loudly. You decide to tease him, chuckling as you whisper, "You like that?"

He sighs, the hand on your hip sneaking down to your hip. "So mean to me,"

You decide to be a bit bolder, throwing your shirt off. Caleb's eyes immediately go down, which makes you chuckle. He reaches out bit stops himself, not wanting to push you. You smirk. Torturing him was so easy, and the look on his face? Priceless.

Gently climbing off his lap, you head towards his room. He's quick to follow, and as soon as he catches up with you he pulls you into a desperate kiss. You help him discard the rest of his clothes except his boxers, and invite him to do the same to you. Both of you are left in just your undergarments.

He pushes you down against his bed, climbing on top of you. His hands all over your body, his lips pressing messy kisses anywhere he can reach. Caleb already has your head swirling and you don't know how you'll handle it if things go further.

"Pips," He whines against your skin. "Need you, please,"

"Only if you tell me who you belong to." You reach up and grab his chin. His eyes widen and he blushes profusely, but he says your name so sweetly. Over and over, until you're opening your legs and he can finally have you.

"Thank you," He moans, throwing off his boxers. Fuck, you think. He's so perfect. Already leaking, his tip swollen. Half of you wanted to keep studying his body, the other needed him badly. He helps you take off your own undergarments, his eyes lighting up. "You're so beautiful,"

"So are you," You look him up and down, unashamed. You sit up and reach out to stroke his rigid length, coating him in his arousal. He moans and gasps your name again, his body already seemed so sensitive. You start slow, up and down, up and down, watching his face closely. His face contorts and he bites his lip, trying to keep his moans quiet.

"You're mine, right Caleb?" You say, speeding your hands up. You know there's no one else in his mind right now, but you need him to say it. He nods frantically. But you don't want a nod. You want his words.

"I said, whose are you?" You say as you stop all motion. He gasps and whines your name.

"Please! I'm yours, please," He looks at you pleadingly. You smirk and push him back against the headboard. You reach over to his nightstand, luckily he had a condom. You open it and help him put it on.

"Good boy," you straddle him. He looks away at your praises, and you grab his chin to make him look back at you. "Keep your eyes on me."

He nods, his eyes glossy. He almost looks drunk on you, on the feeling you give him. You line yourself up wit his length, then slowly sink down, savoring the stretch and his gasps. To help him, you squeeze his chest, pinching his nipples.

Caleb can't help but moan your name louder than before. He grinds his hips up into yours, but you don't stop him. It feels too good, finally being full, him pressing against your most sensitive spot. His warmth, his panting, its overwhelming. You moan and grind against him, using him to reach your own climax.

Being used seems to only make Caleb louder. He tries to cover his mouth, but you pin his hand down. He gasps and shudders beneath you. "Ahh, I'm yours, I'm all yours, uhng please,"

Aw, he doesn't even know what he's begging for.

The coil in your body tightens, your own whimpers mixing with his as you grow closer. His hips snap up into yours. He's a desperate, whiney mess underneath of you.

"Ahh- babe, please, I'm so close," He groans, biting his lip again. You nod, the coil in you will snap any moment. You both go over the edge together, your shared moans combining as you grind against him to help him ride out his high.

"Pipsqueak," he looks up at you, his eyes big and his mouth agape as he tries to catch his breath. "I'm yours. Only yours,"

==============================

Masterlist right here!

author note- im sorry this is so bad, its just word vomit. I gotta learn how to write smut better and shorter LMAO

[morelikeravenbore]

✨Sebastian Sallow fluff alphabet

My personal headcanons based on the way I imagine and write Sebastian in How to Make a Villain.

This template is from this post by snowluvs and is definitely worth a read and a reblog! I loooove reading Sebastian headcanons so feel free to write your own, too!

🌶️ Find my Sebastian Sallow spicy alphabet here.

A - Attractive - what do they find attractive about their partner?

We all know that Sebastian has a bit of a savior complex, so he's attracted to a partner who trusts him with their vulnerability by letting him protect them, care for them and fuss over them. However, he also likes a challenge, so someone with a bit of backbone to go with their vulnerability would really pique his interest. It doesn't matter what form that backbone takes, be it academically-focused, impressive duelling prowess, or just someone whose not afraid to call him out when he's acting out of line, Sebastian is undeniably attracted to that spark.

Read on 👇

B - Body - what is their favourite part of their partner’s body?

Given that he craves deep and genuine emotional connection with a partner, he's very drawn to the face: stroking your cheeks, kissing the corners of your mouth, your eyelids, your brows. He finds any excuse to touch your face, whether it be brushing your hair back behind your ear or tenderly wiping food or smudges from your chin with his thumbs. When being intimate, he holds your face between his hands, pressing his forehead to yours, never breaking eye contact.

C - Cuddle - how do they like to cuddle?

Sebastian is a squasher. He needs to feel physically close to you and will often forget this own size and strength in his desperation to hold you closer, closer, closer. He hugs you so tightly you can't breathe, or else lays his entire body weight on top of you when you're lying down together or sharing a bed. You often have to remind him to back up a little lest he squeeze the life outta you with his love.

D - Dates - what does their ideal date look like?

Sebastian is spontaneous and impulsive, but beneath all that bravado and charm, he is also quite afraid of rejection, so he might not always straight out "ask" you on a date. Rather, you might find yourself accidentally having dinner together at the Three Broomsticks, or huddled for hours in a cozy bookshop he "stumbled upon" at random. Sebastian considers any time spent alone with you a date, and would later tease you about how many "dates" you've already been on without ever being asked.

E - Equal - are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Generally speaking, Sebastian has a hard time relinquishing control to another. Given his history, he is used to taking charge, solving problems on his own and shouldering the burdens of everyone he cares about — and it goes without saying that he can be incredibly stubborn about accepting help or support, even when he genuinely needs it. However, this does tend to lead to mental and physical overwhelm; decisions become impossible, his body aches with exhaustion, and sometimes the boy just needs you to baby him — while still giving him the illusion that he has everything under control ;)

F - Fight - would they find it easy to forgive their partner? how are they fighting?

My personal headcanon that Sebastian is a Virgo sun, Aries rising. His Aries means he's reactive and oftentimes at the mercy of his more intense emotions (such as anger, jealousy — being ruled by Mars). He doesn't always communicate in a healthy way, he lashes out, snaps, or jumps to wild conclusions that don't make any sense. However, being a Virgo sun means he's ultimately a caregiver with a deep need to fix things and look after you, so he's very quick to apologise and make things right again.

G - Gifts - how do they feel about gift giving? what are their habits when it comes to this?

His gifts are either very practical (something you'll use every day), or something very sentimental (something that once belonged to his mother).

When it comes to receiving gifts, he doesn't believe he deserves them, so giving him something uselful like an interesting book, a set of quills, or a planner is the best way to spoil him without making him uncomfortable. However, if you gift him something sentimental, or something you made especially for him, he'll treasure it for the rest of his life.

H - Holding Hands - when / how do they like to hold hands?

If this boy can hold your hand, he will hold your hand, and if he can't hold your hand, he'll play with your fingers, trace the lines of your palms, brush his pinky against yours. You're his anchor, and your hands are the easiest part to hold on to.

I - Injury - how would they act if their partner got hurt?

Given his history with his parents and his twin, he is completely overbearing any time you're sick or injured. He'll fuss, worry, devise a strict recovery regime, won't allow you to lift and finger, and make you stay in bed long after you're well again. He'll research cures, studies, information about whatever it is that ails you, and will likely tell you all about it in great detail. This is where that lovely backbone of yours will come in handy, because you'll definitely have to sit him down and tell him to relax.

J - Jealousy - do they get jealous easily? how do they deal with it?

For all his wonderful strengths, Sebastian suffers from insecurities born from a lifetime of losing those he loves. His jealousy stems not from your actions, but from a deep-seated fear that you're eventually going to realise that he's as rotten as he believes himself to be and leave him. He can be a bit much, but communication is key.

K - Kisses - how do they like to kiss their partner?

Sebastian loves to kiss your face aaaall over, but once he gets started, he finds it hard to stop. Boy is a kisser, and he can get messy.

L - Love Language - what’s their love language?

Acts of Service and physical affection. Being useful gives him a sense of purpose, and touching gives him a sense of peace, so expect to be well looked after and loved. When receiving love, he responds just as strongly to physical affection, as well as words of affirmation. Tell him he's appreciated and that he's done a good job, and he'll be yours forever.

M - Mornings - how are mornings spent with them?

If you manage to get him into bed before he falls asleep where ever he's been reading or studying, it's a hard job rousing him again. He likes to cuddle, and you'll usually wake up half squashed under his body or tangled up in his arms and legs. He speaks in grunts and groans rather than words, and has super adorable bed hair. He's also usually very hungry in the mornings, so the promise of breakfast will be the motivation for finally getting him up.

N - Nights - how are nights spent with them?

Sebastian loves staying up late and doesn't need much sleep to function. His brain is always running a million miles a minute, so winding down takes him quite a while. He tells you he does his best work at night when the rest of the world is asleep.

O - Open - when would they start revealing things about themselves? how would they do it?

Typically Slytherin, he's evasive about himself and prefers to know everything about you before he opens up. Further to that, theres a lot of pain in Sebastian's heart that he won't share with anyone unless he trusts them completely. But, as Slytherins go, once he does trust you, he'll trust you unconditionally; his secrets will become yours, and yours his, and nothing short of death or betrayal will ever break that bond.

P - PDA - how comfortable are they with pda?

He's a real cheeky little smart arse about it. He loves you so much that he wants everyone to know about. He'll pick you up and spin you around as a standard greeting, sit you in his lap, kiss you midway through a sentence. Sebastian doesn't do things by halves, and the same goes for being in love.

Q - Quirk - what is a random ability that helps the relationship?

His optimism, his adventurous spirit and unquenchable thirst for knowledge means there's never a dull moment in your relationship. Above all else, Sebastian likes to have fun, and your life together will be full of it.

R - Romance - how romantic are they? cliche or creative?

There is nothing conventional or cliche about Sebastian Sallow. In fact, he thrives on being just the opposite. He probably courted you by acting like he was your boyfriend until suddenly he just was, there was likely never any conversation about being official, and the first time he said he loved you was probably in the middle of a heated argument or else said in a way that implied it was already common knowledge to you. But despite his quirks, Sebastian is hopelessly, singularly and passionately devoted to you — just don't expect any grand or sappy gestures of love.

S - Security - how protective are they?

Sebastian is so overprotective that it borders on being overbearing. Truth is, he's terrified of losing you, the one person he loves more than any other, and is prone to bouts of severe anxiety about your health, your commitment to him, and your general safety. His inability to relax is a point of contention in your relationship, and one that you both need to continually work on overcoming together. Communication is key, even when Sebastian jumps to conclusions and assumes the worst. He's not perfect, but he's trying.

T - Talking - what do they like to talk about?

Being a highly intelligent Slytherin means Sebastian loves getting deep. Nothing excites him more than discussing magical ethics, or taboo subjects like the Dark Arts or the use of the Dementors kiss against prisoners. He's unafraid to argue his point and loves a lively debate, but he has mental capacity to respect all viewpoints — even if they conflict with his own. He yearns to understand the inner workings of the mind and takes great pleasure in trying to understand opinions and perspectives that differ to his own. Any subject that expands or challenges his understanding of the world is taken on with great enthusiasm.

U - Understanding - how well do they know their partner?

He's a fast learner, very observant, and madly in love with you (obviously), so he knows basically everything about you. But sometimes he likes to think he knows you better than you know yourself. He needs to be reminded every so often that you are capable of looking after yourself, and that he doesn't need to solve every little problem on his own without being asked.

V - Vaunt - what are they proud of? do they like to show their partner off?

Aside from his intelligence, his quick wit and his sense of humour, he is most proud of his innate optimism, which (thanks to your help) has remained in tact despite all the tragedies and hardships he's endured in his comparatively short life. But more than that, he's proud to have you by his side: the embodiment of goodness and love that he never believed he deserved.

His egotistical side enjoys showing you off — you are, after all, the most attractive person he's ever seen, and having you by his side gives his confidence a little boost — but he can become a bit possessive or jealous if he's feeling insecure.

W - Whole - would they feel incomplete without their partner?

Abandonment issues and childhood trauma means Sebastian holds his loved ones very, very dear to his heart. Without you, he'd still be the driven, intelligent and ambitious Sallow he was born to be, but he'd likely lose the motivation to reach his full potential. Having lost every important person in his life, his desire to better himself after all his past mistakes is soley inspired by you.

X - XOXO - are they affectionate?

Physical affection is both how he expresses love and how he feels love; physical touch grounds him in reality and reminds him that you are safe and near. Smooth back his hair, tenderly touch his face, or play with his fingers and watch how fast he melts.

Y - Yearning - how well do they cope when they’re separated from their partner?

Since you are his home, he feels incomplete and off-kilter when he's away from you. And though he tries to honour your individuality, if you're apart for too long, he'll start to have intrusive thoughts about every bad thing that might happen if he's not there to protect you. Needless to say, when you are finally reunited, he greets as you if several decades have kept you apart — like a big, needy puppy.

Z - Zzz - what are some sleeping habits of theirs?

This boys sleeping habits are a nightmare, precisely because he has a lot of them. In fact, he actively avoids sleep, preferring to stay up reading or researching until he's tired enough to fall into an immediate slumber. Usually, you'll find him slumped over on a table or still snoring on the couch, still fully clothed, but if you do happen to get him into bed, he can't sleep without some part of his body touching yours.

[dipperscavern]

The brain worms have brain wormed once more, my friend. Tonight, they writhe for Cregan Stark. As do I but that's not the point.

I am a firm believer Cregan has a corruption kink. Something about his sweet, blushing bride, and her timidness when it comes time to consummate the wedding just makes him want to howl at the moon. Doesn't matter if you're always shy and submissive after that or if it was just for your first time, he looooves to see you blush and whimper and plead for him to be gentler, that you can't take it, that it's too much.

Maybe after some time together, you throw in some roleplay. The blushing bride and the big bad wolf. Sounds like a shitty porno honestly. You're so sweet and soft and shy, and he just wants to ruin you and make you cry.

God, the things I would do to this man and let him do to me.

-chonky anon.

P.S. I think Robb might also be into corruption but moreso pretending to be the one getting corrupted. Idk, I can feel it in my ovaries. Something about virgin!Robb just speaks to me. And my coochie.

CORRERERRRRRREEUPTION KINK 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

when it comes to cregan & kinks like this, he’s so ashamed that he feels that way. but no where near ashamed enough. he’s so close to feeling guilty about it, but he can’t help himself in the satisfaction he feels knowing he’s ruining you. knowing he’s making you feel so good you’ll never be able to go back to the way you were.

and the trust you put in him drives him crazy. sorry, it drives him up the walls and around the corner. it’s part of that more domestic-vibe he loves, and you (accidentally) feed into it by submitting yourself to him during those few times you were getting a grip on ‘the act’ (or, if you’re the submissive type, then indefinitely. but even if you’re not, he still has the corruption kink) (don’t make me elborate) (or do, this is a democracy). showing that trust when he’s sliding in for the first time (or the second, he takes a while to get used to), mumbling something about how it’s too much. how you can’t take it, and he just presses a kiss to anywhere he can reach n reassures “You can.” (because you can. you aren’t pulling away, you’re just unsure. cregan knows what you need)

AND ROBB BEING ON THE RECEIVING END OF IT.

you being the one to take robb’s virginity, and now you both are certified fuck buddies. you’re so good and so gorgeous it’s all he can think about. spotting you around the castle, in the most innocent of settings, even, and his mind is plagued by thoughts most unbecoming of a prince. and he loves it.

[obsessive-disfuntion]

How about Hazbin crew with a possessive reader, not like in a yandere or creepy type.

Reader just likes having them to themselves, character was just talking to someone and reader just goes to them and hug them from behind.

If the crew is too much then just Charlie, Vaggie and Alastor will be fine too.

Thanks and if you can't do it no problem at all.

Thank you, anon, for my first ask!! I love this idea and having just joined Tumblr the immediate support makes me very happy- I haven’t written in a while so I’m a little rusty, but I’d still love to write this out :) (also I loooove being able to write possessive reader, too, this prompt is great-)

Characters: Vaggie, Charlie, Sir Pentious, Angel Dust, Husk, Alastor, Lucifer

Warnings: None? Slight angst for Angel Dust but not too bad- sfw, not beta read, gn reader!

➛ Vaggie

You woke up alone in the bed you shared with Vaggie; a feeling you weren’t all that used to.

Vaggie always stayed in bed until you woke up, or she made you get up with her. She never left you alone. There must have been an emergency in the hotel, or something just as important? 

You slowly got out of bed, body aching from still being tired as you got changed. You had woken up about an hour earlier than you usually do, probably because you aren’t used to Vaggie not being there with you, which just put you in an even worse mood.

When you walk downstairs and into the lobby you saw Vaggie discussing something with one of Carmilla’s daughters. Clara, you think her name was? She’s laughing at something Vaggie said- probably something dry and witty, Vaggie was funny like that- and she put her hand on Vaggie’s shoulder. You didn't know why, but that made you purse your lips and immediately turn away, busying yourself with wiping down countertops with a clean rag. It might have been dirty, actually? You didn't know, you didn't care enough to pay attention at the moment.

“Hey babe, you’re up early,” Vaggie smiled at you as she joined you by the fire place (which you weren't doing a very good job of cleaning), and you almost felt bad for not smiling back. “What’s wrong? You grumpy because you woke up early?”

“Well maybe I would have been able to sleep a bit more if you didn’t just leave me alone in bed,” you huffed, turning away from her.

“What- baby, are you upset? I’m sorry, I had a meeting I had to-“

“With Clara? What is she even doing here? I thought you didn’t like having weapons at the hotel.”

“I don’t like them when the guests have them. I wanted to talk to Carmilla about having some weapons for the hotel’s self-defense after the last extermination we had. Y’know, just in case. But Carmilla couldn’t make it so she sent her daughter instead-“

“Who was very touchy,” you blurted out, dropping the rag you were using to “clean.” 

“Oh,” Vaggie chuckled, her slight frown turning to a visible smile. “I see what this is about.”

She grabbed the rag from the floor and put it to the side before wrapping an arm around your waist to start guiding you to bed. “Maybe we should take a small nap. While I think it’s very cute that you’re getting so possessive, it might help if you weren’t so tired. Would that be okay? If we took a nap together?”

You give a slow nod as she guides you upstairs, agreeing that it might help you calm down if you get a bit more sleep. But you’re glad that Vaggie realized that she is all yours, and appreciates your possessiveness instead of finding it as something to be upset about. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Let’s get you back to bed.”

✿ Charlie

“Oh! Hey- hi! Welcome to the hotel!” Your girlfriend’s cheery voice rang out through the lobby, and you immediately knew a new guest had arrived.

You got up, aware of the fact she would probably need your help to reel it in. She got a little excited at every new face that showed up. Which you adored, but sometimes it made the guests a little nervous.

But when you turned the corner you saw the new guest was a relatively attractive demon, which even you could admit it, so you immediately looked at Charlie. She, of course, was smiling so brightly and showing the mysterious demon to every single inch of the hotel. But as soon as you saw Charlie put her hand on the demon’s back, and they fucking grinned at her, your breathing started to quicken.

“Charlie, babe, what’s going on?” you asked, smiling- although it didn’t really reach your eyes- as a slight warning to the stranger when you step forward and wrap an arm around Charlie’s waist, pulling her away from them. 

“Oh- well, I was just showing our newest guest around…” Charlie answers, visibly concerned at your passive aggressive demeanour. “But… I can get Vaggie or Alastor to show them to their room…?”

“Maybe we should do that. I need you for a minute,” you said, shooting a side eye at the guest.

Charlie nodded and waved Alastor over, who immediately began to show the stranger around the rest of the hotel with his normal stylish and classy flare.

“Love… what’s going on?” Charlie asked, turning to you with a worried expression. 'Did something happen, or-“

“They just looked so… flirty. They looked at you like a piece of meat, I got angry-“

“Ah, I see…” Charlie giggled at your words. “It’s okay to get jealous every once in a while, but I’m a very loyal person. You know this.”

“But that doesn’t men your guests understand that…” you trail off, looking towards the direction that Alastor and the guest went.

Charlie gently grabs your face, your cheeks held between her palms so you would keep your eyes on her. “Hey… I can take care of myself- you don’t need to worry about me. I’m yours, and you’re mine,” she smiled at you, and you couldn’t stay mad.

Not when she looked at you like that.

“Sorry, Charlie…”

“It’s alright! Just remember this conversation next time you start to feel a little jealous,” she teased, leaning in to press her lips against yours.

➴ Sir Pentious

“Clean my quarters… immediately!!” Sir Pentious ordered his minions, which made you jump awake in bed.

“Pentious- babe, can we just go back to sleep? Please…” 

“What? Oh- s…sorry dear, but Charlie wanted us… to have a meeting right away this… morning.”

“Oh…” you trailed off, looking at the eggs that were running about, already starting to make the bed around you. “That’s okay.”

“If you’d like you can come to the meeting with me?”

You didn’t know why, but the fact that Pentious wasn’t spending as much time with you today as you would’ve liked was making you upset. “No- no I’ll probably sleep in. It’s okay,” you mumbled, laying back down under the plush covers.

“Well… alright. You can join me downs…tairs... when you’re ready,” you heard him smile, but you couldn’t get yourself to look at him.

You let out a groan when you hear the door close, hiding under the blankets to try and fall back asleep. 

After a bit you realized you definitely were not falling back asleep, so you rolled yourself out of the surprisingly comfortable bed. You got dressed for the day and left the room, heading downstairs only to find that the meeting was over. You frown, nearly getting teary eyed at the thought of having to look for your boyfriend.

“Ah, you’re awake!” he says from behind you excitedly, and you turn around with a frown still on your face, but you started to calm down as soon as you saw him.

“Hey, Pentious. How was the meeting?” You ask, trying to sound chipper but it didn’t go over very well.

“Oh never mind that- I would like to take you out for breakfas…t,” he states, linking your arm with his as he started to lead you out the door.

“Wait- what?” you ask in surprise, looking at him with a happy expression.

“Well, I could tell you wanted to s…spend more time with me today, and who am I to deny you? S…so today it’ll jus…t be the two of us…” he promised you, making your heart swell.

“Thank you Pentious.”

You didn’t want to admit it, but you treasure the days you get to have him all to yourself.

⊹₊ Angel Dust

You hated Valentino. 

Well obviously everyone at the hotel hated Valentino, but you desperately craved more quality time with Angel and his stupid boss was obsessively over-working him. That bastard would get your boyfriend sore and tired and would immediately fall asleep as soon as he got home. Which was fine, cuddling him was just as great. But you missed having late night chats and watching romcoms to make fun of them with him.

You were laying in his bed and petting Fat Nuggets, waiting for him to get back from work. The lights were off and his pink LED lights were on, making sure that his room had a calm environment all ready for him when he got back.

As soon as the door opened you sat up in the bed and gave him a smile, which fell slightly when you saw how worn-down he was. He was slightly slouched over eyes nearly shut from exhaustion. But he lit up when the saw you on his bed.

“Ugh, you wouldn’t believe the day I had,” he groaned, his accent thick and slurred as he collapsed face-down on his bed right next to you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask, moving to rub his back only for him to roll over to look at you.

“No… no, I don’t want to think about, just- wan’ some sleep,” he sighed, causing your face to fall a bit.

“But I have the day off tomorrow,” he opened his eyes for a second to smile at you.

Your breath caught in your throat as your heart skipped a beat in excitement, looking down at him. “Really? Just us tomorrow?”

“Well, aside from whatever activity Charlie wants to do, yeah. It’s just us tomorrow,” Angel responded with a grin, looking up at you. “Ya missed me, sweetheart?”

“Well- yeah. I did,” you admitted with a red face, moving to lay down next to him. “I hate what your work is doing to you. You know I don’t care what you do, you’re just… obviously hurting.”

“Well it’s not like I got a choice-“

“No, I know. I know,” you interrupted. “Just… let me hold you. I’m worried about you.”

You pulled him close, holding his head to your chest and closing your eyes. “I just… like having you here.”

“I know,” his muffled voice spoke up, smile evident in his voice. “I like being here with ya.”

You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled at the feeling of his body finally relaxing against yours, since you knew Angel definitely needed to unwind and relax. And you were happy to help and provide.

➳❥ Husk

It was a late night with plenty of different guests in the lobby. You wanted to turn in and go to bed, but you always went to your room with Husk so you could say goodnight to each other before going to bed. But Husk was busy tending the bar, who was being pestered by some guy that had one (well, three) too many drinks, and made it obvious in his mannerisms. 

You narrowed your eyes slightly when you saw him lean across the bar, talking to him in some sly, sing-song voice. You didn’t really want to know what he was saying, but you already knew it was something that you didn’t like.

You walked up to the bar and put your hand on the guest’s shoulder, giving him a “polite” smile. “I think you’ve had too much to drink. Maybe it’s about time you go to your room?”

“Oh, we were just having some fun- right Husk?” he grinned at the bartender, your boyfriend, and you tried not to full on sneer in disgust.

“Hey Vaggie!” you called her over with a fake smile before glancing over at Husk, who was obviously entertained. The tease.

She walked over with a slight scowl, not used to being up this late. “Yeah? What do you need?”

“Could you take this guest to his room? He had a little too much to drink.”

“Aw, c’mon. It’s not that bad,” he slurred, getting cut off by Vaggie lifting him off the bar seat and dragging him off.

‘Yeah, yeah. C’mon, dude. Let’s get you to bed,” Vaggie sighed, tired and no longer keeping up that “the customer is always right” mindset.

“There. Now he won’t bother you anymore,” you sighed with a smile, happy to get Husk to yourself.

“I don’t think it was me you were really worried about,” he smirked, his low and familiar voice causing your boiling anger to cease.

“Well, maybe I just like having you to myself,” you teased, watching him clean up the bar so he could finally head to bed.

“And you’re not seeing me complaining about it,” Husk responded over his shoulder before putting the last clean cup down, coming out from behind the bar to join you.

“Want me to walk you to your room?”

“Actually… could I come to yours? I thought maybe we could turn on a movie and I could spend the night…” you offer, hoping he won’t refuse.

“Of course, sounds like a good idea to me,” he smiled at you, taking your hand and leading the way to his room.

✧ Alastor

“Hey, Alastor, I was wondering if we could-“

“Not now, my dear,” Alastor cut you off with his signature smile, patting your head lightly. “My apologies, but unfortunately I promised Charlie to help around the hotel today. Maybe we can catch up later,” he dismissed, walking away from you and not even letting you finish asking to hang out with him.

You let out a sigh and go elsewhere, slightly hurt but telling yourself you would be able to hang out with him later.

But the next day you found him in the library, too busy reading his book to even notice that you walked in. “Alastor,” you tried not to sound too impatient as you attempted to gain his attention.

“Sorry, I’m trying to catch up on my literature,” he grinned, not even looking up from the pages. “Catch me later today, my dear. I’m sure I’ll be free then.”

You tried not to groan out of frustration, immediately exiting the library. You just wanted to spend time with him, but he always tended to busy himself with different things whenever he could.

But then an hour later you grew tired of the lack of company, marching back to the library only to discover that he was no longer there. “Alastor,” you groaned, marching out of the library only to find him helping Charlie with some small task.

You come up to him and hug him from behind, which you knew the sudden affection would upset him but a part of you didn’t care. “Alastor, will you please listen to me.”

He gently pulled away from your grasp, which surprised you. You thought he would be more mean about it. “What is it?”

He looked at you with a shocking amount of patience, and you glanced at Charlie who was distracted with her small task. “I want to spend time with you,” you stated, making eye contact as you informed him of what you wanted. “Just us.”

“Well that can be arranged,” he shrugged with a cheery voice.

He turned towards Charlie, glancing at you for a moment before looking back at her. “Charlie, I’m going to take the rest of the day off. I have an important matter that requires my attention.”

That statement made your heart flutter, and you looked up at him with a smile.

“Of course Alastor! You’ve been contributing a lot lately, you take the break that you need!” her high-pitched and happy voice responded, not even looking at him as she continued working. She was hanging up some sort of poster- probably welcoming a new guest again.

He turned back to you and placed a hand on the small of your back. “Well, you wanted to spend time with me, and I provide for those I care about. What would you like to do?”

“Maybe…” you flushed, happy that he wanted to spend time with you as well. “Go out to lunch?”

“Sounds marvelous,” he agreed with a smile just for you, which made you melt.

𖤐 Lucifer

You were exhausted. It was a long day after helping Charlie at the hotel, and you were heading back to yours and Lucifer’s room when you unexpectedly heard voices right as you turned the corner.

You sigh at the sight of a staff member pestering Lucifer, trying to ask him some question that could either wait until later or that Charlie could easily answer herself.

Lucifer turns his head to glance at you as you step behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his shoulder. Normally you’d be a little self-conscious about showing this much PDA in front of another person, but at this point they were taking up YOUR time, so you didn’t really care at that point.

“Lucifer, is something wrong?” you asked, doing your best to not shoot a glare at the random worker. It was getting late, maybe they could just worry about it later…?

“No of course not,” he muttered, glancing between you and the staff member, then focusing on the latter. “They were just leaving. We’ll discuss this matter later? Tomorrow?”

They quickly nodded with slightly wide eyes, walking away and from you and Lucifer and heading off to find some other thing to worry about, or to hopefully head to bed.

“While I’m glad Charlie is getting more workers to help around the hotel, they are EVERYWHERE,” you groaned into his shoulder, causing him to laugh.

“They ARE just trying to do their jobs…”

“And I’m just trying to get some quality time with my boyfriend. Is that too much to ask?”

“I guess so,” Lucifer laughed at your antics, turning to face you before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “But they’re gone now, so let’s just go to bed? Or at least to our room. I know you’ve worked really hard today, maybe it’s time for us to just relax for a bit.”

Your sour mood was immediately uplifted once Lucifer mentioned spending down time with just the two of you, so you nod quickly and pull him inside the room you shared. You liked spending time with just him- which definitely put a strain in your relationship every now and again, since he was literally the king of hell.

Before he could even sit down on your shared bed you pulled him into a tight hug, happy to just be able to hold each other behind closed doors. 

“I always look forward to it just being us every now and again, Lucifer. You know I love supporting Charlie, we’ve just been so busy…”

He kept one arm wrapped securely around your waist while his other hand rested on the back of your head, holding you tightly.

“Well you have me now. And you always will, even when I’m busy.”

“You promise?” you asked, pulling back slightly to look at him.

He smiled at you, leaning up a tad to press a gentle, barely-there kiss against your lips.

“Promise.”

Thank you so much for reading <3

[bestruction]

i was the previous anon who asked about requests :D for sasuke i actually have a few ideas... so we know sasuke is like pretty stoic and traumatized so i was thinking of surprising him with a kitten to soften him up because i feel like he would fold and find it so cute even if he doesnt want to admit it and they r just playing with the kitten and its climbing on sasuke and just fluff, i really love the idea of gentle sasuke bc it gives me sm comfort :) i was also thinking of an au idea, i saw someone say they imagine the uchihas as asylum patients in a modern au bc of how insane and traumatizing their lives were and i was thinking of a oneshot or something of being sasukes nurse and slowly falling in love, it doesnt have to be a modern au though because i feel like a mental institution in the naruto universe isnt too unrealistic of an idea right? thank u for reading :) im going through a bad time rn and ur work has been so comforting

Hello there ❤️ I hope life is treating you better, and it made me genuinely happy to read that you find comfort in my stories. Thank you for sharing that with me.

I love both of your ideas! But for tonight, I'm picking Sasuke with a kitten one. I have a soft spot for kitties and him. It's a deadly combination to my mind and also, I loooove to explore how gentle he is although he is emotionally constipated.

Sasuke and kitty

You brought a kitty home, and he was very against it at first. You two barely had time for yourselves between missions and fixing the things in the Uchiha district. A pet isn't just cute. It's more responsibility but when he saw you crying? Big eyes saying you couldn't just leave the cat alone after bringing him home and giving them hope? He couldn't bring himself to say no.

So he agreed to keep the little animal under one condition: he was entirely your responsibility. Food, vet visits, training, playing, cleaning after...All you (he was actually trying to make you give up but it didn't work).

Weeks passed. True to his word, Sasuke did not lift a finger. He even named it "Trouble" ;-; He barely looked in Trouble’s direction, acting as if the tiny creature didn’t exist in the household. But you saw the way he paused in the mornings when the kitten curled up in the window. How he left his office door cracked open just enough for a curious nose to sneak in.

One evening, you came home early from a mission. The house was quiet, the kind of peace that hinted someone had already settled in for the night.

You stepped silently down the hallway and paused just at the corner of the sitting room.

Sasuke was on the floor.

Trouble sat on his chest, tiny paws kneading gently into his shirt, purring like a tiny engine. Sasuke’s hands, so often weapons of precision and destruction, were now playfully nudging a little ball of yarn the cat was batting back at him.

He didn’t even look annoyed.

No, he was… smiling.

The soft kind. The kind no one ever saw.

Trouble crawled up and bopped Sasuke’s cheek with a paw. Sasuke let out a barely audible chuckle—a chuckle—and murmured, “You're a menace, just like her"

Your heart melted on the spot.

Of course, the moment he noticed you, his entire body stiffened. He carefully lifted the kitten off him and sat up as if you hadn’t just caught him.

“You’re home early.”

“Mmhmm.” You leaned on the doorway, trying to hide your grin. “You and Trouble seem to be getting along.”

He didn’t meet your eyes. “He got stuck in the shoji door. I had to get him out. He was… distressed.”

You blinked. “So you played with him for an hour? It looks like someone is falling in love”

“He is still your responsibility only”

You walked over and sat beside him. Trouble, sensing the perfect opportunity, promptly climbed onto your lap and curled into a ball of fur and sleep.

Sasuke gave the kitten a quick glance, then looked away.

“You’re allowed to like him, you know.”

“I don’t.”

You bumped his shoulder gently. “Right.”

He gave you a sideways look, then softened. “…Maybe he’s not entirely useless.”

You smiled, your hand brushing over his. Coming from him, that was huge praise.

“You're a softie, Sasuke.”

He scowled, but the corner of his lips betrayed him. “Don't push it.”

And somewhere between your laughter and the quiet purr of a cat finally safe and loved, Sasuke found that maybe… just maybe… some trouble was worth keeping around.

"We can't keep calling him Trouble, by the way," You say glaring at him because he was the one who stared it.

[nicacodemons]

my tsats 2 expectations!

Nico looking healthier: At the end of tsats1 we see him thinking "how could i not eat when it gives so much pleasure?" or smt like that. I can see him improving significantly his eating habits and at least gaining a bit of muscular mass (is that how we put it?), which will make him more powerful, since normally eating a grape a day might reduce your necromancy powers.

Nico being cute: we can absolutely expect that he will be insufferable next to will in this book. Like, he was already being the cringiest nerd ever at the first book, where he still had a LOT of emotional limitations, he wouldnt let go of will, always touching him and showing absurd amounts of affection through his touch. We can expect him being a little shit even more now that he seems to be getting more and more comfortable with wills touch.

TEENAGER COCOA PUFFS: (god i love this one). I think it could be something like: the more nico grows comfortable with aspects of his trauma, the more the cocoa puffs grow. The more he accepts and deals with shame, the more the little ball of darkness grows until it actually evolves as something with a physical form. I remember seeing something about the cocoapuffs taking animal forms as they grow and i LOVE this concept. Imagine some monster or deity trying to taunt nico with shame or envy and this teenager sized bear shows up from the darkness. God, i cant, nico is the coolest character EVER.

COCOA PUFFS: i like the concept of them also growing independet, as much as the idea of some little balls of darkness following nico is very dear to me, i also like the idea of them exploring the world or evolving as creatures too. They would be independent creatures but as an extention of nico, they have their own personalities, connected with their respective trauma but you can see the action part being similar to nicos.

COCOA PERSONALITIES: Shame being shy but when cornered they get angry and defensive. Envy being full of pride and "comunicative" but when triggered they get quiet and cold.

NICO GETTING HADES' BLESSING: i think one of the things most of the nico stans have in common is an absurd love for his demonstrations of power 🙂‍↕️. The thing with hades' blessing is: we dont know what it is, up to this point we havent seen anyone get it and deal with it yet, which is very cool because we can overpower it on our heads 🤭! I THINK, the hades blessing would act to counter the biggest weakness of most (ig) children of hades, it would waste way less energy. Of course it would seem sick, like making nico actually look and perform as a creature of the underworld, him getting horns, maybe? nico getting black eyes? his skin turning grey? his hair turning white? nico having less form? being completelly engulfed by shadows? God i loooove fanservice, lets go rick and mark yall have one job, and it is to make nico look like a dragon ball transformation, so we can look at it and think "sick". I like to think that his fighting style at this state merges with his powers, going for a kick at his oponents head then suddenly apearing behind them? sick. stealing the life of his oponents? killing them while healing himself from it? sick. getting shadows with venon around him? absolutely sick.

NICO BEING GOOD AT GAMES: i love gamer nico. It matches his personality soo well. That is like the best remedy to insomnia, right? Im not really a gamer myself aside from competitive online games, and i cant really imagine nico playing league (ew), but i could see him ending resident evil 7 in a night. Playing tomb raider? yes! I could see him playing most adventure, suspense and horror games, and the thing is: bitch can play the most gut wrenching games with the scariest jump scares EVER, and he wouldnt even flinch. on the other side, him getting easily scared by anything on this games would also be super funny. Bitch screaming like a prey runing from a lion while playing dbd. He went to tartarus and is dissolving by a jumpscare? funniest concept ever.

NICO LOOKING HANDSOME: and way more intimidating. With some sun, actually being happy for once, better eating habits and accepting himself i think he would look quite good. I see him now with very black hair and very black doe eyes, a full mouth and a very straight and a bit too big nose, a bony face shape and a little bit of eyebags. I like to think he still has these features but his face is really symetrical and his skin makes him look like a doll, his lips and beautifull but his eyes, even though they look beautiful, the look is haunting, and make you need to look away. He looks like he's reading your mind, but he also looks so handsome you want to keep looking. I think he has long lashes too, and his scar only makes him more intimidating, it is the only not symetrical thing on his face and it makes him stand out. He has a cold look in his eyes, you never know what he is thinking (aside from will that reads him like a book), and the fact that he is constantly getting healthier and more handsome is very haunting.

NICO ACCEPTING HIS GOOD PARTS AND WILL ACCEPTING HIS BAD PARTS: I think this one is my favorite so far, Nico being able to sustain himself in a fight, stealing life from oponents (i loooove this one), or simply learning how to heal because he understands that death and life are the same thing. While Will understands that not all lives are meant to be saved, and to save more lives it might take some difficult choices like not saving others. It might make him get the hability of necrosing things just like nico, or (like canon) giving diseases just like he heals.

thats it for now! english is not my first language! be kind.