#and it just strikes me as so intensely similar

[lifblogs]

Star Wars is just Shakespeare in space.

[forcedhesitation]

why should it just be steve who has all the torturous purgatory realm fun?

[sadesluvr]

TEETH.

Sergei Kravinoff might be a villian, and you a hero; but at the end of the day you're both animals.

A/N: First fic in a while so my bad if it sucks. You already know this movie was basically ass but we only watched it for ATJ anyway - I'm changing some of Kraven's character so he's similar to the comics/Spider-Man 2 game, so be sure to read the tags bc he’s a lil dark…

Word count: 2.3K

Tags: SMUT / DUB-CON / Spiderwoman! Reader / Breeding / Unprotected + rough sex

Kraven feared nothing. 

It simply wasn’t in his blood; not his staunchly machismo upbringing, nor in his DNA, quite literally having that of a lion. Fear made one weak. Fear made you less of a man. Fear was what killed his mother. 

If anything, fear was just another animal; ready to be captured, killed and conquered, ultimately destined to be draped across his chiselled body or mounted on a wall.  

You were simply no different. 

He never really understood why people were afraid of spiders, but he knew that they were a nuisance, having haunted him since he was a boy. Spiders weren’t savages like lions or bears, but they were sneaky; crawling around in the dark and waiting to strike, with a face so obscured that you’d never really know what you were looking at...what they were thinking.  

But now, with your mask off, he could see you clearly. Fear; clouding your eyes and consuming your lungs as you heaved, choking on the intensity of the emotion itself as your pupils darted between the beige, bloodied teeth on his necklace and a crossbow pointed right at your heart. 

“So, you’re the insect causing me all this trouble?” the man mused; legs crossed upon a desk as he eyed you. “I should’ve known.” 

“Should’ve known what? You know nothing about me.”  

“You’re a girl.” 

“Sexist, much.” 

He chuckled. 

“Far from it. My father, however, was quite the traditionalist. He would’ve done much worse by now.” 

There was a heavy silence as you swiped at your bottom lip. Much to your dismay, blood had begun to dry, and you were left with a salty, scratchy throat. Liquid, some of any kind, would’ve been appreciated, but you knew all too well that Kraven wasn’t one for showing mercy. Like all the villains you’d encountered, you’d had a push-pull relationship with the Hunter since the very beginning. He created a plan; you foiled it, sometimes you’d get your ass beat but the ending was almost always the same – with you safe from harm's way, and a bloodthirsty ego chipped away, but momentarily put to rest. 

On this occasion you’d slipped up, your Spidey-senses failing you and placing you right into harm's way, shipped into the back of a van and somehow escorted to a somewhat uncharacteristically lavish mansion.  

You'd always found Kraven to be a man of contradictions; whether he realised it or not. He was the best and worst of both worlds, a hunter with all the grit of someone who’d been fighting their entire life as a poverty-stricken rogue, and yet you’d come to learn that he was a Russian aristocrat, hence his rather extensive knowledge and unrelenting desire for control. Still, nothing took away from the fact that he was a brute, not even his strikingly good looks. 

“Just shoot me and be over it,” You continued, watching as he lowered his feet from atop the desk and strolled over to you.  “You didn’t need to drag me all the way here.” 

He looked even bigger than usual, but perhaps it was because you were perched uncomfortably on a chair, arms bound behind you as you craned your neck to look up at him. Your mind couldn’t - no, didn’t - want to fathom what he was thinking of you from this angle. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I care nothing about your secret. I just wanted to look you in the eye.” He mused, rummaging through his back pockets. Your breath hitched in your throat as he slid a knife from its sheath, finely carved and sharpened and lowered it to his side before pacing around you, stopping as his firm torso pressed up against the tip of your neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you braced for your neck to be split open, only to be released from your bounds.  

Instinctively, you went to shoot some webs, hoping you could at least catapult yourself across the room, but he tightly grasped your wrists, steadying your arms in place.  

“I wouldn’t try anything if I were you,” he sneered. “These are antiques.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Get up,” he announced suddenly, almost dragging you to your feet. Hesitantly, you began to shuffle out of the room, overwhelmed by the seemingly endless walls and corridors, all framed in ivory and the finest mahogany. “Keep walking until I tell you to stop.” 

You continued down the hall, opting for a straight line. It seemed to be the correct way as once you passed into the threshold of a room that had a velvet chaise lounges and a dresser, he dropped his hands from their grip on your own, closing the door behind you. Oddly enough, you never heard the click of a latch. 

Without a word, he walked past you to open the drawer, rummaging through the contents. It utterly baffled you why you didn’t feel the urge to protest, or even fight. The entire ordeal was feeling more like a glorified house tour with a side of intimidation rather than a future crime scene. 

Was it because he was handsome? Wild? Filthy rich? Whatever happened to your values? Perhaps Jameson was right.  

Your thoughts were interrupted by the man placing something in the desk, curling his finger to beckon you towards him.  

“See this? This is what keeps me going,”he said, rolling a vial of florescent liquid in his fingertips.  “You and I are more alike than you think.” 

You scoffed, trying to ignore how close he was to you. He had an earthly musk that invaded your senses, sending tingles down your spine… and to your core. 

“I don’t need a drug to do what I do.” 

“Never mind the drug. It’s our blood that makes us strong.” 

You cocked a brow and he ignored your confused look. 

“You know, I’ve always hated spiders…” he began, rubbing his beard in contemplation.  “Too itchy; unpredictable. You never really know where they’re going to show up. If I ever saw one, I used to pop them like a zit.” 

There was a clear disgust in his words and vacant look in his eye that sunk you into a pit of fear for perhaps the first time since regaining your consciousness. You knew that it was just about you (surely), but perhaps a weird extension of your being; something bigger, far more innate than a girl in a spandex spider suit. 

“But then I realised that for their size, they’re deadly. Powerful, even. Recently I’ve wondered what it would look like if I harnessed it myself.” 

You swallowed, suddenly conscious of your dry throat once more. 

“A drop of blood usually does the trick.” 

He tutted. Perhaps you were being too fickle. 

“No, любимец [darling], not that way. I crave something more.” 

Your eyes darted to the lounge. Since when did Spider-Woman lack composure? Kraven’s impenetrable gaze followed your own, and he chuckled knowingly. 

“With your arachnid abilities and my strength, we could create something truly unique. Nature has its ways, you know.” 

“You’re sick,” you replied, your chin held high but your bottom lip wobbled. “I’ll never join you. What you do is immoral.” 

Kraven furrowed his brows. 

“You killed a man, and you talk about morality?” 

“He was a bad man.” 

“He was my brother.” 

The word humanised him a bit. The Chameleon wasn’t your most imposing foe, but he was still a challenge you’d been rather glad to conquer. It was all too often that you’d fallen into the trap of thinking that the world was black and white; good and bad, when occasionally it was grey. Kraven was allowed to grieve his brother, but at the end of the day they were both bad guys. 

Then why did he turn you on so much? 

“You don’t have to resist,” the man grinned, strolling towards you. He stopped, glancing down and reaching a hand up to cup the sides of your face, caressing your cheekbones and sides of your lip with his thumb, threatening to penetrate your mouth. “I’ve never been this close to you before…I can smell you.” 

You were both superhuman, but he had the thirst of a predator. Quite literally. Breath hitched in your throat as he angled his lips to your ear, whispering a few fatal words. 

“Give in, маленький паучок [little spider]. Your body yearns for me.” 

One large hand was wrapped around your neck as he kissed you, his wild beard scratching against your face as his other hand snaked down your suit, down to between your thighs. The latex did nothing to offer you safety, his callouses prodding at your wet slit and beginning to rub in small circles, oh-so internationally slow, making sure he pressed against the hood of your clit. 

He had you as soon as a small moan escaped your lips. It’d been a while since you’d been touched, let a alone by someone who was as well-travelled as The Hunter himself, and every kiss, nibble and squeeze was sending you into a deeper spiral of lust and guilt that you could barely fathom that you’d already made your way to the lounge. 

You pulled away as your calves collided with the frame, lips wet and parted as you glanced up at him – wholly helplessly. His hand remained firm on your face, angling his head as he smirked at your shielded demeanour, a far cry from the flashy superhero you’d been but an hour ago.  

“Kra—“ 

“Don’t call me that,” he said through gritted teeth. “Call me Sergei. I need to hear you say it.” 

The name rolled from your lips as a cry as he bunched the sides of your suit in his hands and tearing it apart, exposing your bare pussy and ass, with strands of fabric shaping your legs like a makeshift garter. He grinned, large hands frantically groping at your thighs and ass, spreading your cheeks apart and exposing your hot core to the cool air. 

“прекрасный.” [Gorgeous] he moaned, swatting at your ass before dipping his fingers inside you, rubbing your folds between his fingers as you coated him in your juices. Grasping your hands around his thick neck, you clung onto what you could as he explored your body, lowering you down onto the smooth velvet. 

It wasn’t long before he straddled you, holding your body down with his pelvis as he removed his jacket, giving you an eyeful of his crafted torso. Unsurprisingly, he had the body of a God, with a prominent v-line and happy trail pointing down to between his legs. Even through his heavy trousers you could make out his bulge, mounded and ready for you. 

You gasped in anticipation, watching as the man withdrew his cock from his briefs; red and girthy, with precum spilling from his tip. Skilfully, he spread your thighs, making sure they were safely by your sides (he’d seen how flexible you were, your ankles touching your ears was nothing) and lifting your lower back slightly off the cushions, pushing into you with a deep sigh. 

At first, his intrusion was a dull ache, but as he began to move his hips against your own you felt utterly fulfilled, moaning and writhing as he wasted no time in daggering your wanting pussy, making sure you felt every inch.  

“Sergei...” you cried, eyes fluttering shut as you flung your head back in pleasure. “Please...” 

“Say it again.” 

Words evaded you. 

The man grinned, flashing his canines as he tightened his grip, compelling him to fuck you harder. The whole ordeal was obscene; New York’s most treasured hero being bent into submission by the villain of the week, a scene so heinous that it was all the more endearing, and with every thrust you knew you wanted him more. Sergei didn’t care whether his combat boots scuffed the fine upholstery, or if his grip on your waist would leave a few bruises – he just wanted to own you. 

He huffed as his heavy balls slammed repeatedly against your crack, beginning to bottom out in you with every hit, so much so that it looked like you were conjoined.

Even through the strain in your legs you could tell you were close, knots in your stomach slowly beginning to unravel as your walls clenched around him, earning a delighted rumble from deep within his chest. 

You knew that he wasn’t one for talk, but you would’ve appreciated the warning that he was about to come. Every guy you’d been with tended to get sloppier, but he grew stronger, the literal animal in him taking over as he began to ramble and curse through gritted teeth in Russian.  

Sergei threw his head back as he held you down, hands pawing your breasts and strands of hair sprawled in a beautiful mess across his face as he came, ropes of hot white cum spilling into your pussy just as you dressed his cock in a silky sheen. Your chests heaved as you desperately tried to come down from your high, glancing down at your messy nether regions as his seed began to seep out of you.  

There was no going back. Nine months began now. 

Would it really be all that bad? 

It all went back to fear, really. In the back of his mind the thought of a spider still troubled Sergei, but at least he’d conquered it. Even if it was temporary. 

FIN. 

[23victoria]

Jealousy, Jealousy

f1 grid x fem!reader

wc: 2.1k

warnings: just the guys being jealous, a lil uncomfortable situations ig,

authors note: sorry i took so long with this anon 🥹🤍! also sorry if this is bad for some reason i was struggling 😓 also ignore any typos any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!! if you wanna join my taglist, click HERE!

f1 masterlist

Lewis

You were at a quaint bookstore in London, browsing through the latest bestsellers. Lewis was busy with a media event, so you decided to take some time to yourself. While searching the shelves, a charming young man approached you, striking up a conversation about the book you were holding.

"So, are you a Ana Huang fan?" he asked, flashing a friendly smile.

You smiled back, appreciating the casual conversation. "Yes, I love her Twisted series! Currently reading book 2."

"That's one of the best books!" he said, inching closer. "I can definitely recommend some more books similar to hers! Maybe if I could get-"

Unbeknownst to you, Lewis had wrapped up his event early and decided to surprise you. He walked into the bookstore just as you were chatting with the stranger. He immediately noticed the man's enthusiastic gestures and your engaged expression. His protective instincts kicked in.

He approached with a confident stride, sliding an arm around your waist. "Hey, babe. Who's your friend?" Lewis's tone was polite, but his eyes were intense.

"Oh, Lewis! This is Tom, we were just talking about The Twisted Series!" you said, trying to ease the tension.

Tom extended his hand, but Lewis's grip on your waist tightened slightly. "Nice to meet you, Tom. I'm Lewis."

Tom picked up on the vibe and quickly made his exit. "Nice to meet you too. I'll let you two enjoy your day."

As Tom walked away, you turned to Lewis, raising an eyebrow. "Is that a hint of jealousy I detect?"

Lewis chuckled, relaxing his hold. "Maybe a little. Can you blame me? He was cleary interested."

You kissed his cheek, reassured by his protectiveness. "You’re cute when you get like this, you know you're the only one for me."

Max 

You were at a trendy bar in Monaco with some friends, celebrating your  movie premiere. Max was racing that weekend, so you hadn't expected to see him. While chatting at the bar, a guy approached you, complimenting your dress.

"That dress looks amazing on you," he said smoothly.

"Thanks," you replied, smiling politely.

Max, who had finished his practice session early, decided to surprise you. He walked into the bar and immediately spotted you talking to the stranger. His mood darkened as he saw the guy leaning in closer to you.

Max wasted no time, walking straight over and placing a possessive hand on your lower back. "Hey, schatje. Who's this?"

You turned, surprised and delighted to see him. "Max! This is Jason. He just complimented me on my dress."

Jason, sensing the tension, took a step back. "Nice to meet you, Max. You look beautiful Y/N, nice talking to you."

Max nodded curtly, watching Jason leave before turning his attention back to you. "What was that about?"

"Just a compliment," you said, smiling. "Why are you jealous?"

Max pulled you into a deep kiss, making sure everyone in the bar knew you were his. "No."

You laughed, hugging him tightly. "Yes you are, but it’s okay, I like when you get jealous. Besides you're the only one I want, Maxie."

Charles 

You were at the university library, studying for an upcoming exam. Charles was away for a race, so you decided to focus on your studies. A fellow classmate approached you, asking if he could join you at your table.

"Sure," you said, moving your books to make space.

The two of you started discussing your coursework, but the conversation soon shifted to more personal topics. Just as the guy was about to ask you out for coffee, Charles walked in. He had flown back earlier than expected to surprise you.

He saw you laughing with the guy and felt a pang of jealousy. Charles walked over, his presence commanding immediate attention. "Hey, love. Mind if I join you?"

You looked up, surprised and thrilled. "Charles! Of course, sit down. This is Peter, we were just studying."

Peter quickly excused himself, sensing the unspoken tension. "I'll see you around, Y/N."

As Peter left, Charles took his seat beside you, his arm draped protectively over your shoulders. "Who was that?"

"Just a classmate," you said, amused by his reaction. "Jealous much?"

Charles sighed, pulling you closer. "Maybe. But I have every right to be, I mean look at you, you're gorgeous. Any person with common sense would want you."

You kissed his cheek, whispering, "You're adorable, Char! You never have to worry about that. Trust me, you're the only one I want."

Oscar 

You were at a cozy café in Melbourne, waiting for your boyfriend. He had a busy schedule, but you managed to find time for a quick coffee date. While waiting, a guy at the next table struck up a conversation.

"Do you come here often?" he asked, clearly interested.

"Not really, just waiting for someone," you replied, hoping he would take the hint. 

He leaned in a bit closer, a confident smile on his face. "Well, maybe while you wait, we could get to know each other better."

Oscar walked in at that moment, his eyes narrowing as he saw the guy leaning in closer to you as he spoke. He walked over, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Hey, baby. Ready to go?"

The guy quickly backed off, realizing he was intruding. "Oh, I'll leave you two to it," he said, standing up and walking away.

Oscar watched him go before turning to you. "Who was that?"

"I don’t know, just some random guy," you said, smiling up at him. "You feeling okay? You look a little red?"

Oscar shakes his head, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Looking at him you say, “You sure it’s not because you got a little jealous?”

Oscar chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Maybe a little. I just can't stand the thought of anyone else getting your attention."

You hugged him tightly, giving him a short kiss. "You just have to get used to having a very attractive girlfriend baby."

“I guess I do.” he says cheekily wrapping his arm around your waist as you guys walk out. 

Carlos 

You were in the pit lane, watching the preparations for the upcoming race. Carlos was busy with the team, so you decided to explore the area. A fellow fan, noticing your VIP pass, struck up a conversation.

"Are you here for the race?" he asked, clearly impressed by your pass.

"Yes, I'm here with my boyfriend," you replied, trying to be polite but distant.

"That's great," he said, undeterred by the mention of your boyfriend. "Is this your first time attending, or are you a regular?"

"Regular." you responded, hoping the conversation would end soon.

"Oh, so your boyfriend's rich, huh?" he remarked with a smirk.

"Uh, sure…yeah," you replied, taken aback and uncomfortable with his comment.

Carlos, having finished his briefing, spotted you talking to the guy. His protective instincts flared up as he saw him getting a bit too friendly.

He walked over, slipping an arm around your waist. "Hey, cariño. Everything okay?"

The guy quickly stepped back, realizing who Carlos was. "Oh, hey, big fan. Just talking about the race."

Carlos nodded curtly, his grip on your waist firm. "Enjoy the race."

As the fan walked away, you turned to Carlos, smiling. "Thanks for the save."

"No problem," he replied, his expression softening.

"You know, I love how protective you are," you said, leaning into him. "And maybe when you get jealous just a little. It's cute."

He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Lets go get some food, cariño."

Lando 

You were at a gaming convention, enjoying the various booths and activities. Lando was busy with a panel discussion, so you decided to explore. A fellow gamer struck up a conversation, discussing the latest games.

"Have you tried the new VR game?" he asked, clearly excited.

"Not yet, but it looks amazing," you replied, sharing his enthusiasm.

"Yeah, it's fantastic," he said, his eyes lighting up. "I wouldn't mind showing a beautiful girl like you how to use it sometime. It'd be fun."

Lando, having finished his panel, spotted you chatting with the gamer. Jealousy panned over him as he saw the guy flirting with you. 

He walked over, slipping an arm around your waist. "Hey baby! What are we talking about?"

The gamer quickly felt the energy shift. "Just talking about the new VR game."

Lando nodded, his grip on your waist firm. "Cool."

As the gamer walked away, you turned to Lando, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

Lando sighed, pulling you closer. "What?! It’s not my fault he was interested in my girlfriend."

You smiled, kissing his cheek. "Key word in that sentence is “my girlfriend”."

Sebastian 

You were attending a charity event, mingling with various guests. Sebastian was busy with the organizers, so you decided to socialize. A charming gentleman approached you, engaging you in a lively conversation about the event.

"It's great to see so many people supporting this cause," he said, smiling.

"Absolutely," you replied, enjoying the conversation.

He leaned in a little closer, his tone becoming more personal. "Especially when someone as beautiful as you is here."

You smile nervously, not expecting his direct approach. "Oh, thank you," you responded, trying to look around and grab Seb’s attention.

Sebastian, having finished his duties, spotted you talking to the guy, looking around. He saw the man getting too friendly and walked over to you.

He walked over, slipping an arm around your waist. "Hey, honey. Would you like a drink? Oh! Who's this?"

The gentleman quickly realized he was intruding. "Just talking about the event."

Sebastian nodded, his grip on your waist firm. "Enjoy the evening then."

As the man walked away, you turned to Sebastian, raising an eyebrow. "I love when you get protective, it’s hot, the jealousy too."

Sebastian smirked, pulling you closer. "Jealous? Me?! Don’t know what you’re talking about."

You smiled, kissing his cheek. "Mhmm, yea, yea. Let’s get my drink."

Jenson 

You were attending an award ceremony, mingling with various celebrities. Jenson was busy with interviews, so you decided to socialize. A charming actor approached you, engaging you in a lively conversation about the a.

"It's great to see so many talented people here," he said, smiling.

"Agreed," you replied, engaging in the conversation."All nominees this year were very talented and impressive."

He nodded thoughtfully, then leaned in a little closer, his gaze lingering on you. "Speaking of impressive, I couldn't help but notice how stunning you look tonight."

You chuckled softly, flattered but unsure how to respond. "Thank you, that's very kind of you."

He grinned charmingly. "So, are you here with anyone special tonight?"

Jenson spotted you talking to the guy. And started to walk towards you. 

He walked over, slipping an arm around your waist. "Hey, baby. Who's this?"

The actor quickly realized you were taken. "Just talking about the event."

Jenson nodded, his grip on your waist firm. "Yea, it’s a nice thing."

As the man walked away, you turned to Jenson, raising an eyebrow. "Nice thing?"

Jenson sighed, pulling you closer so he can squeezing your waist. "Didn’t know what to say without being rude so that's what came to my mind."

You smiled and kissed him gently. "Let’s go check out the catering at this 'nice thing'."

Daniel

You were exploring a quaint art gallery in Paris, enjoying the serene atmosphere and the beauty of the artwork on display. Daniel had left his phone in the car, leaving you to appreciate the art alone. As you admired a painting, a friendly gallery assistant approached, eager to discuss the artist's work.

"This piece here is quite exceptional," he said, gesturing towards a vivid abstract painting. "It really captures the essence of movement and emotion."

"It truly does," you replied, appreciating his enthusiasm. "The color blending and stippling is beautiful."

He smiled warmly. "You have a keen eye for art. Beautiful art for a beautiful girl."

"Oh, thank you," you said, trying to show no interest.

Daniel walked into the gallery, He approached, slipping an arm around your waist. "Hey, baby. Finding any new favorites?"

The gallery assistant reacted quickly to Daniel's presence and backed away. "Just discussing the beautiful artwork," he explained.

Daniel nodded casually. "Thanks for your insights, but we're good here."

As the gallery assistant politely excused himself, you turned to Daniel with a playful smirk. "Oh, someoness jealouss?"

Daniel chuckled softly, pulling you closer. "No, no. Protective, yes. Jealous, could never be me."

You smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Mhm hm, if you say so."

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[muletia]

[tfp] obsessed!orion pax x human!reader

18+ content, minors don't interact!

summary: orion hasn't seen you for a long time (2 days) and desperation clouds his common sense. when he visits you at home and drops by the garage he shows you how much he has missed you

cw: gentle!dom!reader, sub!orion, established relationship, fingering, handjob, praise kink, overstimulation, orion cums untouched several times (that's hot), L-bomb, reader is teasing the fuck out of him, this is probably the most self-indulgent thing i have ever written

word count: 2670

an: my first time writing transformers smut. this isn't really canon to my orion 'storyline', just wanted to get this out of my system because i love making characters submissive and breedable :))

"Orion?" you call from behind, and he jumps in place, his helm striking the ceiling of your garage. Even when mass displaced, the small space of you garage was a challenge for him. "How long have you been sitting here?"

You step inside and close the door behind you, setting your backpack and a shopping bag to the side.

He grows flustered, seeming to shrink before your eyes. He hunches slightly, trying to make himself appear even smaller like he was ashamed of something. Sitting back on his calves, his hands are perfectly placed on his thighs.

"I simply... I truly wanted to see you. It has been a long time. I missed you."

Your sharp gaze shifts downward, and Orion wishes he could bury his head in the ground. You were always perceptive — a quality he deeply admired. But now, he would give much to have you overlook just this one detail.

"I think I can tell how much," you say with a warm smile, despite the awkwardness of the situation.

It hasn’t even been three minutes since you reunited, and he is already proving just how deeply he missed you. Droplets of cyan fluid, strikingly similar in color to energon, were slowly seeping through the seams of his interface panel, betraying the intensity of the spectacle unfolding within.

"Do not... look." He whimpers, trying to shield you from the mortifying display.

"Hey, hey, it's all right," you reassure him, seeing the panic written across his faceplate. "Orion, love, I am not going to judge you. I just... didn't expect that you, too, felt... desire. What a delightful surprise."

It feels as though the temperature in your garage has risen a few degrees. You weren’t disgusted, nor were you disappointed. And you called him... "love." That pet name wasn’t unfamiliar to him; you’d used it a few times before. But in this context, it hit differently—deeper, more shamelessly.

His spike pressed painfully against the confines of its cage, but Orion had to remain patient. He couldn’t risk frightening you, couldn’t destroy the atmosphere that had been so delicately built. Under no circumstances could your smile shift into revulsion. He faced a monumental challenge, as the simple utterance of "love" had nearly caused him to overload.

"Forgive me; this sight must be... disgraceful to you."

Oh, how frightened, how shy, skittish he was. You already knew you couldn’t be too direct with him, couldn’t afford to tease or play games. This time, you would have to slow down, and match his pace— no matter how much you wanted to see what lay hidden beneath that panel.

"Not at all," you reply, shaking your head. "Hey, I could help you if you’d like."

His answer comes after a pause.

"I am certain you must be fatigued after work," he improvises, not ready yet. He needs time to accept for himself that only your touch can bring him relief. "I would not wish for you to exert yourself on my account."

You raise an eyebrow because you’ve never heard a bigger bullshit in your life.

"So what, you just want to watch a movie together?"

He attempts a smile, trying to show that this option is perfectly agreeable. If not for the accumulating transfluid pooling around and beneath him, it would be hard to tell he was aroused. This game of restraint demanded immense self-control, but he was willing to suppress his desires for your comfort. He would rather die than make you feel uneasy because of him.

"Of course, I would be delighted."

All right, so much for the promise of not teasing him. You couldn’t bear to see him in this state; ignoring the problem would only frustrate both of you, especially him. You might not be entirely familiar with his anatomy, but in this instance, you assumed that keeping an erection (quite literally) locked away must be excruciatingly uncomfortable—especially for someone so openly expressive with his feelings and needs.

"Okay, but before I grab the laptop… can I kiss you?"

His optics widen.

"Pardon?"

"Can I kiss you?" you repeat, watching with satisfaction as his weak bluff crumbles. "It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other. I want to show you how much I’ve missed you."

He doesn’t ask why now, why not immediately after you greeted him. His focus is solely on the fact that you’re about to touch him, likely in multiple places at once. Your soft lips would be on him, showing him affection, bringing you closer together. He begins fidgeting with his digits, terrified of the overwhelming influence you have over him and how little you need to do to leave him feverish. Yet at the same time, he has no objections—he can’t refuse you.

He feels like he’s about to explode.

"Yes… you may. I beg you."

"Wonderful!"

Orion leans forward slowly to make it easier for you, but you still place your hand on his audial. And he fucking yelps. He squirms restlessly, unsure of what to do with his body. You overstimulate him, tugging at every possible sense, playing with him, teasing him—and there is no doubt that you are doing it intentionally. Yet he doesn’t pull away anymore; he doesn’t try to hide.

"I missed you too, you know?" you whisper, and he smiles. "It’s nice that you came by."

You move in for the kiss slowly, lulling him into thinking you’ll play his game. You see his optics flutter closed, his excitement mounting, and his lips—such as they are—pursed ever so slightly in anticipation. He needs this, but you’re not going to give him that satisfaction. Not yet. You want to hear him ask for it, to be absolutely certain he consents.

You give him a quick peck on the cheek and pull your hand away, though you stay close to his faceplate. You don’t hide your smile when he opens his optics again, looking utterly crestfallen. You almost feel bad for teasing him during such an innocent act—almost. That is, until you hear the muffled sound of dripping. Under other circumstances, you might have laughed.

"[Name]?" he asks desperately, alarmed by your retreat.

"So… I’ll get the laptop. What movie do you want to watch?"

Now he looks terrified. His servo shoots out to grab your wrist before he can even form a proper argument. There’s no time for that—you can’t leave him now. And as if strength alone wasn’t enough, he starts pleading. Panicked, hysterical.

"No, please! Don’t go, I beg you!"

"What? I thought we were watching a movie?"

"Ah… Stay… please."

A simple, innocent touch, and he was already losing his mind. It was difficult for him to form constructive, clear thoughts when you were so close. All his senses were focused on you. If you were to leave him now, Orion could literally die. He needed you, he longed for you. Only now did he release your wrist.

“If you have not changed your mind… I would like to ask for your help.”

You smile; you had been waiting for these words. You send him another quick kiss, watching with a reassuring sense of pride as such a large being shifts uneasily, trying to stifle the moans escaping in soft whimpers. You caress his cheek, and Orion instinctively leans into your hand, shifting his legs. Your touch drove him wild, yet he could not pull away, could not sever the connection. Completely at your mercy. A mortal playing with a god. A god humbled before a human. An addictive state, empowering but also terrifying, easily taking control.

Not today, not now — you reprimand yourself.

“Of course, love.”

“Ah!” he whimpers and closes his eyes. His digits claw at his thighs as he struggles to find a purpose for his hands. He overloaded. From a single pet name.

Orion gasps heavily, as if he truly needed oxygen to survive. It was not hard for you to guess what had just happened.

“Well, you are welcome.” You stroke his cheek, wanting to gain his full attention. His large cyan optics turn towards you. They are filled with love and joy, but they are also dimmed, not as sharp as usual; desire has overwhelmed common sense. This was not the end yet. “Hey, are you okay?” you ask, just to be sure. You needed to know what was going on inside him.

“Yes…” he pants. “But please… I want more… I need more.”

He could not take it any longer. He was about to truly explode. With a quiet hiss, he pulls back his interface panel, and cool air surrounds his battered and tormented bits. More hidden transfluid spills onto the floor, with some slowly trickling down his thighs. It was a pitiful sight, but Orion no longer felt shame; he simply did not have the strength. When your eyes look down, curious about the sound, he can only manage a quiet moan, for everything had become real at that moment.

“Wow, you guys have two? Cool.” You smile, as if you felt no shame at all. “Next time, we will try with pegging.” You wink at him.

“What is this ‘pegging’?”

“You’ll find out next time.” You respond dismissively. “May I… touch you?”

The response comes instantly.

“Yes, please.” he squeaks.

Slowly, you touch the tip of his spike, wanting to get familiar with its texture, to see how much it resembles a human one. Its hardness does not surprise you, as it was made of living metal. It also does not surprise you that he begins to shudder, and a few drops of transfluid, a vivid blue, trickle from the tip. The same happens at the back; his valve glistens with desire, covered by a layer of the same fluid. Curious about the consistency, you spread it on your finger. It is thick and sticky, resembling honey but more liquid.

“Ah!” Orion moans loudly. An exquisite sound from such a deep, low baritone. “[Name], I am about to… ah, I am going to overload!”

“Hold on for a moment, alright? Will you do that for me, baby? I would like to make you feel good.”

He already felt incredible, even without the touch, but he would be a fool to deny himself this pleasure. He wanted you to touch him, to overwhelm his senses even more, leaving him with no escape.

“Yes…”

“Yes, what?” you press, this time for your own satisfaction.

“I am not going to… mph…” you circle your finger around his tip, teasing him, testing if he can endure. Oh, how cruel you were today. “I promise, I am not going to overload.”

“Good mech.”

A few more drops escape. Orion is so close; a pet name or a compliment separates him from bliss. But he wants to be good for you, to show his worth and that he can obey. Your disappointment is the last thing he wants to experience. So, he patiently waits for your move, which comes instantly.

You smear the transfluid on your hand, as it is the only lubricant you have, and wrap your hand around his spike, or at least try to, as it turns out that the gigantic robot also has quite an impressive dick. Every move from you is accompanied by a pitiful, loud moan sung by Orion. His helplessness cannot be matched by the concert of sounds he makes when you start sliding your hand down the length of his spike.

He cannot hold on. It is too much, definitely too much. At first, you maintain a steady rhythm, playing with him and his needs, observing. Your gaze also excites him because there is not an ounce of shame in it. It is the complete opposite of his, as his optics cannot focus on one thing. He wants to peek, to see how your hand moves, how beautifully it fits around his spike. How compatible you are. But he cannot, for his processor is on fire. He can only focus on pleasure, on you. The softness of your body, the texture that his spike has never felt before. The only thing he can manage to produce are deviant moans. And it seems you can read his mind, as you ask him a question that demands an answer.

“How do you feel, baby?”

You are cruel, but he physically cannot be angry at you. So, he tries to please you, to remain obedient, even though thinking is beyond his grasp at this point. The inside of his helm has turned to mush.

“Hah, s-splendid,” he stutters.

You click your tongue teasingly, unsettling him, as he does not know this human expression of emotion. But before he can be concerned by it, you tighten your grip, as if you want to crush him, and all he can do is yelp.

“Agh, [Name]!” he whimpers your name, not knowing what he did to deserve such treatment.

“Only splendid?” you ask, now drawing slow circles with your thumb around his tip.

“N-no!” he tries to protest, but complex words cannot leave his voice box. “No! Hah…”

“Hmmm, I think we need to change that, don’t we? I can’t let you feel only splendid.”

The confusion lasts only a moment as you lean closer, drinking in his drunken, love-drained expression. When your other hand reaches his valve and you press two fingers into the overheated, surprisingly soft metal, Orion can no longer think of anything. He tilts his helm back and lets out such a raw, loud moan that it could be heard by everyone within three kilometers.

Now, you are working with both hands. One hand works on his spike, the other pumps your fingers into his valve. Shallowly, even too shallowly for his taste, but it is enough for him to reach the stars. To experience what true pleasure is.

He wants to climax, he needs it, he cannot take it any longer. He feels as if he is burning alive, his vents working loudly and rapidly, trying to keep up with the ecstasy. His digits scratch at the floor, making visible grooves. Completely overstimulated, but chasing the pleasure, he grinds down on your fingers. Deeper, harder, faster.

He does not need to say anything; you understand perfectly. You increase the pace, adding another finger.

“I hope this is better than splendid now.”

“Mhmm, ah! It is!” he stutters.

His spike begins to tremble, and his valve tightens around your fingers. That is your signal to evacuate, it is time for the fireworks.

“Would you like to climax, darling?”

“Yes! Please, ah! I beg you…” he whimpers.

One last movement, one final push from you. You torment him for a moment longer, only to end his suffering.

“Then come, since you performed so well. Love you.”

You withdraw your fingers and leave his spike alone, watching as Orion climaxes so powerfully that his transfluid lands on the ceiling. He moans your name, panting heavily, completely drained of energy but still full of adoration. Still thinking only of you.

“Orion? Baby, are you alright?” you ask, abandoning the teasing tone. You’ll save that for another time.

He blinks rapidly, returning to the present. His optics focus on you, and he musters a weak smile before leaning forward, compelling you to hold his helm in your arms. He nestles against your chest, taking a moment to recover. He never gets enough of being close to you.

“Orion?” you ask again. The urge to pet him is overwhelming, but your hands are still coated in transfluid.

“I am alright,” he murmurs and tilts his helm back for a moment to look at you. He smiles, and he is so beautiful that you momentarily go blind. And in his optics, there is so much love, so much gratitude reserved only for you, that you forget about the world around you. Especially the neighbors who will surely confront you tomorrow about disturbing the night’s peace.

[chlorinecake]

Can you wright a Ni-ki fanfic where him and reader have a (just a regular) (or or maybe even slightly heated) make out sesh ???

“kissing, I hope they caught us” ┈ ❊ ﹒ 🌪️

⟢ pairing 西村力 x fem!reader ⟢ contains shy and flirty kissing, wandering hands, mentions of body image ⟢ 𝟔𝟗𝟖 words 📍 now playing … 🕸️

One day, you decided to go clothes shopping with your boyfriend Riki, trying on a few pieces for him in the mall dressing room to make sure you were on the right track. It’s not like you needed any new clothes… you simply just wanted your wardrobe to match more of what Riki wore.

“Turn around,” you told your boyfriend in a demanding yet sing-singy voice, cautiously taking off your shirt as you observed the way he buried his face in his delicate palms, “and no peeking!”

When you finally gave him the cue to uncover his eyes, he looked you up and down with a smile ghosting over his plush lips.

“What do you think?” You asked, striking a few basic poses.

He couldn’t help but blush a little at how cute you looked while checking yourself out in the mirror. You and Riki had came a long way with each other when it came to self confidence, and it delighted him to see how comfortable you’d grown with yourself in front of him.

“Can you come a little closer,” he said, motioning with his fingers as you followed like a trained kitten.

“Okay, now give me a spin…” he directed, and you did, nearly falling over as you did so, “like this?” you asked shyly.

“No, the other way, silly,” he giggled, hooking his finger into the belt hook of your jeans and pulling you into his lap, bracing you with a protective hand as you plopped onto him.

“Like this,” he smirked, gripping your waist as he looked into your eyes through feathery lashes, thoroughly enthralled by you.

Your hands almost naturally found themselves at his shoulders, your socked-feet dangling off the dressing room couch as you clung to each other like puzzle pieces.

“So the outfits a win, yes?” You asked as he caressed your waist, hips, and thighs, sending tingles up and down your spine. In moments like this, you were almost certain that Riki could make you physically melt from his touch alone.

“Hmm, let me think about it,” he whispered deeply against the skin under your ear, kissing you softly and leaving another trail of tender pecks down your neck.

“Riki~,” you hummed gently, hands running through your boyfriends hair before he shushed you with a kiss to the lips, guiding you closer towards him by your waist.

You could feel your stomach start to flutter at how passionately he kissed you, wanting the moment to continue before he abruptly pulled away from you, his plump lips and half-lidded eyes clearly telling of how intense the contact was.

“My pretty girl,” he said, hands now leaving your body to cup your face, “you know that I think you look beautiful in anything, right?”

“Anything?,” you teased, toying with the neckline of his cotton T-shirt.

“Anything,” your boyfriend continued, reaching his hand towards your ankles, “Even in these dirty pink socks,” he giggled, tickling the base of your feet.

“Riki, you crazy child, stop that!” You yelped in a similar fit of giggles, swatting his hands away before guiding them back around you, initiating a hug. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, almost forgetting that you two were still in the changing rooms and not at home.

He guided you off of his lap, walking you towards the tall wall mirror with his hands wrapped around your waist, resting his chin on your left shoulder as you both faced your reflections.

“Where’d this sudden sense of confidence come from anyway,” you pressed, a small smile staining both your faces as you looked at the mirror, lost in each other’s beauty.

“I guess it kinda just radiated off of you,” he said, once again tugging at the belt hooks on your jeans, thinking of all the places he’d wanna take you to show off your new clothes.

You bowed your head, hiding your face at Riki’s words that nearly lit your heart ablaze, “Okay, let me change out of this so we can go to the register,” you chirped, watching as your sweet boyfriend, like a trained kitten, walked back to the corner of the dressing room and covered his eyes.

—❊ Special thanks to the anon who requesting this quick piece !! I hope you guys found it just as cute as I did =^..^=

—❊ tagging: @microwvdstrawb3rri3s , because I know how much she loves likes Ri-ki 🤭 And to me fellow OG supporters, @squoxle, @nikisdubblchococake, @ashgonedash, and @yourmomscuntis2tighy + @watamotee33

—❊ I haven’t come up with a permanent tag list yet, so leave an ask or comment letting me know if you’d like to be tagged in all my works moving forward !!

[princeoftheeternalbog]

OP characters reacting to you kissing them and running away (here's part 2) established relationship ish. Feel free to ask for other characters.

ALSO I've definitely seen another creator who did this idea with op characters but I can't remember who so if someone could tell me I would really love to credit them :(. I tried to make mine different but still it's the principal of it.

Slightly suggestive in some parts so mdni.

Luffy

Thinks its a new game like tag but with kisses and it ends up actually becoming one. You'll both wait for the other to become distracted and then you'll strike, planting a kiss and sprinting off around the ship or the island you're docked at. It's not hard to chase after each other because the trails of laughter are so easy to follow and it always ends up with one of you on the floor from a tackle or something similar.

Zoro

Gobsmacked. Genuinely his jaw drops especially if there's other people there and you get away so easily only because of how long it takes his brain to boot back online. Oh but he doesn't let it go. He waits until you're in a similar situation, either talking to someone or doing work and he sneaks up to pull you into a deep, intense kiss that leaves your knees weak. Like he fully puts the moves on you, hand on your lower back, other hand cradling your jaw, hes literally licking into your mouth and then he just disappears for the rest of the day. Asshole.

Sanji

You are not running away from this man. Not in a scary way but he can't do just one short kiss, as soon as you're leaning in his hands settle firm on your hips and that grip is not something you can wiggle out of. You can try to run away but he just laughs at you and pulls you closer to him, ofc he would let go if you actually wanted him to but he knows what you're trying to pull. Says something like "Oh? Trying to run darlin? How sweet." swoon- Just don't even bother, he will always try to win if your affection is involved.

Nami

Honestly thinks nothing of it. A lot of your affection is sweet but quick because yk pirate life. But if you look disappointed from her lack of reaction then she catches on quickly and starts playing along. So sweet even though she can be scary. Oh but don't try to run if she's initiating, like Sanji you aren't going to get out of her grip. If she wants to shower you with affection, she is going to thank you very much. If you do manage to slip away she's surprisingly quick and surprisingly stealthy. Like you'll think you got away and you walk into a room and she drops down from the ceiling like fucking batman.

(maybe not that dramatic but shes good)

Robin

She lets you run away but only because she knows she could summon a mouth to kiss you at any time and in any place so she's content knowing she always wins. Also thinks it's really cute when you try to rile her up like this, she just finds it so endearing and usually ends up playing into it anyways- "My, my, aren't you getting so bold my love". Sometimes will purposefully trip you up while you're doing these antics so you can't get away or so your plan is ruined, absolutely pretends she has no idea what you're talking about.

Usopp

Highly likely he was doing something when it happened. Highly likely he dropped something onto his foot as a result. Yowls like an injured cat and then when his brain catches up it's like steam comes out of his ears. Stands there with his mouth open and pointing at you like you betrayed his entire family. Very funny and very cute. Also a possibility of him smacking you out of fearful instinct in which case he'd probably cry his eyes out and beg for forgiveness. Nami makes it worse by punching him in the face for hitting you. A mess all around if you get him at the wrong time so just be careful.

Ace

Immediately sprinting after you, it's actually a bit scary. But like hey he's not letting you get away with just one measly little peck on the cheek. Absolutely nobody on the crew helps you unless it would be funny, i.e. someone tripping Ace up so he faceplants. If it's near the beginning of your relationship then you likely go back out of concern which he takes as a chance to catch you, but if it's later then you already know this man's antics and you know he wouldn't be injured just from tripping so you use it as an opportunity to get away💪. You still have to kiss it better later though when hes whining to you about how cruel you are for leaving him in the dust(he would do the same).

Izou

Don't bother. As soon as you turn he snatches you by the back of your collar and pulls you onto his lap, proceeds to resume his conversation like nothing is wrong but his arms are firm around your waist and his cheeks and ears are a particularly pretty shade of red. Once his conversation is over and the other person has left, he turns his attention to you with a very pointed look. He's not actually irritated but if he enjoys watching you squirm that's his business. "If you wanted a kiss you should've just asked my love" and then he's practically devouring your mouth. Doesn't care about the other people in the vicinity. Doesn't care that he's smudging his lipstick. Just wants to fluster you more than you flustered him.

Marco

Do you even want to run away from this man lets be real- anyways.

If he's doing work then he just laughs and lets you get away with it, tallys it in his head for later, but if he's free and hes in a good mood then he absolutely plays into it. Will chase after you. Will cheat by using his powers. Its a bit scary but also very attractive, somehow ends with him pinning you in some way (☺️), looks very smug when he wins. Like you'll end up flat on your back, legs trapped under his and his hands restraining yours and he's just grinning- "Oh what a surprise. You were so easy to catch-yoi" Yeah yeah shut up. Absolutely asks what his reward is just to see your shocked face (absolutely asks again later when you two are alone).

Sabo

VILLAIN!!!!!! Sorry only way i can describe how devious and obsessed this man would be. Like Izou he tries to snatch you immediately but you planned for this so you manage to spring out of his grip in time. You falter a bit at his reaction then because he just blinks at you for a while. You start to feel a bit nervous and when he finally grins at you, you definitely feel nervous. "Playing like that are we honey? How about I give you a headstart then?" Evil. You know he's going to catch you. He knows he's going to catch you. He's just giving you false hope but yk hope is hope so you take the chance.

You don't get far. It's not even fair how quickly he catches up to you and gets you underneath him, it takes him barely any effort, not even a strand of hair is out of place. Spends the next 10 minutes kissing you on the floor of the hallway until Koala comes back and promptly drags him back into his office.

[lilystyles]

blank space.

part three of style, written by @lilystyles

my masterlist xx & style masterlist

authors note I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG??? UR SUPPORT HAS BEEN AMAZING I LOVE U ALL SM ALL UR ASKS R SO SWEET. LOVE U LOVE LOVE U. IM SORRYYYYYY UNI SUCKS RN!!! ENJOY ANGELS <3333333

brief description niall throws the party of the century, and harry gives y/n a gift.

warnings! slight age gap, smutty (daddy kink, romantic sex, m!receiving, f!receiving, steamy, dry humping) sexual tension, drugs and alcohol abuse, fratboys. (wordcount: 11k)

fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader

* * * * *

Harry Styles, for what felt like the first time ever, was jealous.

It had now become obvious to Harry, that he is definitely a jealous person when he loves someone.

Which had never happened to him until her, he’d never cared enough to be jealous. He couldn’t care less normally, and he never really understood feeling possessive. It used to turn him off so much when someone was possessive over him, he hated the idea of being tied down and suffocated. His ex-girlfriends could and did cheat him and Harry didn’t care, he was young and wanted to have fun. He didn’t blame others for enjoying themselves. He moved on without the bat of an eye, and he never held grudges over it.

Life was about feeling good, having fun, and enjoying yourself. And before Y/n that meant mindless sex, parties, and smoking in pretty girls’ beds. He knew for a lot good girls that his past would be a major turn off, he honestly didn’t remember half the people he’d shagged, but he didn’t care. Life was a bunch of fleeting moments for him.

But lately, his feelings about possessiveness were different. His feelings for Y/n were all-consuming and so strong he didn’t know what to do with himself, he felt like his world was flipped upside down. He didn’t know how to ground himself, he felt like he was floating, and so far from his feet. When it came to Y/n he cared. A lot. Too much.

He found that even the way people were looking, just looking, at her right now was enough to have him clenching the can of beer in his hand. His fist tightly squeezed around it, imagining it was the jugular of whoever was walking in her direction that wasn’t him. And despite the fact he could understand people hitting on her because seriously she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing, that didn’t matter to him. Y/n owned every inch of him, and he felt like he’d made it clear she was belonged ot him too.

Harry found himself watching her intensely from across the room, eyes locked directly on her pretty little perfect figure. Which was unlike him normally he was off causing mischief and getting incredibly out of his mind drunk and high. Probably get a blowie outside by the pool.

But she was so striking, and he felt like he was in a trance. She stood out from the swarm of people like the brightest star in the sky, her h/c shined under the lights catching his attention immediately when he walked into the room. Y/n just looked so fucking gorgeous, like the embodiment of beauty, and everything Harry loved was embedded in her very being. He couldn’t have ripped his eyes away even if he’d wanted to. 

If he had to describe her in one word right now, he’d say entrancing. She looked…well it took his breath away how beautiful she was. Harry always found Y/n very beautiful but tonight she looked especially scintillating. He wasn’t sure if it was her outfit or the fact his infatuation was growing by the second each day, but wow. 

He wanted her so badly.

Her face was flushed from alcohol and the heat of the room, a soft pink that was similar to the shade of her lips, and a glisten of sweat coated her from the sweltering evening, making her look like an ethereal being that Harry adored. God, she was adorable. He could see her giggling, nose scrunching and all smiley. He couldn’t hear her, but he wished he could. She had the cutest laugh known to man.

And there it was, that itchy jealousy and annoying possessiveness rolling through his veins as he watched her laugh with another boy.

His green piercing eyes fell further down her figure. Her costume was fitting. The little dress she wore was very short, so short that the bottom of her plush ass was almost peeking out of it and Harry’s thoughts turned from wholesome to not-so. He’d never seen her wear that dress before, but if he had anything to do with it she wouldn’t even be wearing one and she’d been in his bed with the flimsy material on the floor. The material of her dress was almost a second skin, the silky white material left very little to the imagination except for where it puffed out at the bottom like a tutu. Her tits were round, the perfectful mouth for him to suckle on, nipples hard and obvious pressing against the satin material.

However, her luscious legs and smooth skin were the stars of the show tonight, Harry had been lucky enough to feel those wrapped around him, so he knew how soft they were. In that dress, her legs looked so long, the sight of her made his blood rush through him faster, almost like he was high. He’d only had one beer, so he didn’t know what had made him so dazed.

Harry wouldn’t be surprised if his prick was hard in his pants, he didn’t have it in him to feel ashamed. It got like that when he smelt her perfume on his clothes after being with her all day. Y/n had an unfathomable power and control over him, that she hadn’t even known she possessed. It didn’t take make much to get him budged up like that anymore, if Y/n crossed his mind then boom, just like that his prick was begging for his fist.

Harry kept watching her protectively. A few guys were leering close by, and he didn’t like it one bit. Instead of looking at the boys, he turned his attention back to the details of her dress. The top of it had puffy short sleeves that made her look adorable, and the neckline showed her perfect tits sitting comfortably and plump. That little necklace of her initial sitting between them, it sparkled under the dim light.

He bit his lip, and the beer in his hands was no longer enough to distract him. He licked his lips and calculated how he’d get her alone with him tonight. For once, Emma was sticking to her like glue. His sister normally found a way to disappear off and get herself sickly drunk, and with some lad. They had that in common, neither ever one to mingle unless it was for a shag or a spliff.

But not right now, no Emma stayed close by her side, talking to Zayn and a guy Harry thinks is called Liam. Harry’s jaw clicked, teeth clenching as he watched Liam’s eyes linger a moment too long at Y/n’s chest. His fist clenched by his side as he tried to breathe.

Shutting his eyes only for one second to remind himself to get his lungs working. 

In.

Out.

In. 

Out.

As he repeated those two words in his mind, the only thing he could that he wanted to go in and out was his prick inside of her perfect sweet pussy. He wanted her pressed nice and close to him, he wanted to hold her, and press his cheek to her head and shut his eyes. Maybe then he’d be able to breathe normally. He certainly couldn’t from over here, and now as stood across the room he realised maybe all those girls sobbing hysterically with ice cream in their dorms over his frat brothers weren’t so crazy, and maybe those idiots who ran through airports weren’t really idiots. Just people madly, stupidly, overboard, in love.

This absolute possessive carnal caveman rage was something Harry hated because he knew it was stupid. But God the thought of anyone even looking at what was his pissed him off beyond the point of sanity. Y/n was a fucking beautiful little thing, she always had been, all innocent and soft, the kind of girl you wanted to scoop up into your arms and take care of.

And he wanted to do just that. He wanted to take care of her and keep all harm from her direction. He didn’t care if he was getting obsessive with his staring, he couldn’t stop. 

He smiled at the little furry feathered halo that sat on her head, wings decorating the soft exposed skin on her back, and glittery cheeks that sparkled like magic under the pale blue lights of the room. She looked ethereal. His real-life angel and she was dressed the part too. Little fluffy white heels decorated her feet that he was sure would look better by his shoulders as he made her melt around him like he had every intention of doing.

He really was the devil for thinking that way. But that’s who he was, and her unforgettable sweet pussy had infiltrated his mind. He smirked silently to himself because he knew despite their total differences and things that got in the way of them, the world had made them for each other. 

Moulding his hand to fit perfectly around hers. Like a sculpture with his clay, the world carved Harry just for her, and Y/n just for him. He was more sure of it than anything in the world.

Even if she didn’t know that yet, he was more than certain.

So Liam could just right fuck right off, that was his angel. Anyway, who comes as a basketball player when you already are one? How lame is that costume? Harry hadn’t worn his football clothes here and called it a costume. Even he wasn’t that bad.

Harry hadn’t tried as hard as Y/n had with his get-up. The only thing to give away his costume was the cheap plastic red horned headband hidden in his curls. He was in a pair of black jeans, and a black t-shirt, nothing special. He didn’t fancy costumes all that much. But he thought that Lucifer likely didn’t give a fuck about his outfit, at least that’s what he’d told Niall when the bloke almost didn’t let him inside due to his very shitty costume.

Y/n hadn’t noticed Harry yet, despite his icy green eyes boring into her skin for the past twenty or so minutes. He’d been lurking in a corner away from her sight. But when Emma left with Zayn to who knows or who cares where, he made his way over quicker than a blink of an eye. Liam noticed him first, and Y/n felt a warmth radiating near her back which made her spine shudder.

Must be Styles. She thought but didn’t turn, waiting for him to speak first.

“Oh hey, Mate.” Said Liam offering a wave. Liam and her had a physics class together and she was complaining to him about the professor and how she was pretty certain she was going to fail the class.

Harry’s chest pressed into her side and she finally turned, smiling up at him. A soft delicate one that made Harry’s lungs finally kick back into working like normal. Heart beating fast, as he thought to himself, oh there you are heart.

Being with Y/n was like realising he’d spent his whole life without oxygen but now he had air.

“Hi.” He said curtly to Liam, moving his eyes to Y/n’s precious ones, and he could feel Liam watching them. She really had no idea how badly every man in this room wanted her. How didn’t she notice the staring? The whispers? How did she seem so calm when she was like a baby lamb in a room full of wolves?

“Can you come and help me with something please, Trouble? Niall asked after us.” He asked leaning down close so his mouth shadowed her ear. He was lying, but he wanted her alone, and Emma wouldn’t notice. She was already incredibly drunk and he knew that because she was already dancing on a table in the dining room.

Y/n nodded squeaking out a soft sure, and she slid her palm around his bicep, thoughtlessly and instinctively. When they went off campus, and spent time together they always held each other close.

His body was so warm and welcoming, she was used to being close to him now. He brought her so much comfort, and Harry felt smug at the way Liam’s face dropped at the sight.

Yeah, suck it, stupid basketball player. He thought. Butterflies fluttering through his tummy at the feel of her hand on his arm.

Y/n hardly had a chance to wave goodbye to Liam before Harry had dragged her away hands melting into her skin. Everything with him felt so natural. Their physicalness was normal now, and she hardly noticed it as much as that first night. It felt routine and safe, and she loved it. He never did that with anyone except her, which made her heart flutter in a strange off-beat rhythm.

Despite having always been a sexual creature, he wasn’t touchy with people he slept with outside the bedroom. He wasn’t the type. But he honestly couldn’t keep his hands off Y/n.

He guided her upstairs leading her into a random room, and shutting the door behind them. It was a fairly clean room, and Y/n soon recognised it was Niall’s. She guessed by the rainbow flag hung up by his posters, and of course, the biggest sign was an Ariana Grande poster. He fancied the pants off her, and would always play her songs in the car. If they went to karaoke which sometimes they did, Niall always without a shadow of a doubt sang Ariana. Despite the fact his throat could not at all easily sing that high-pitched.

She walked over to sit on the edge of the bed, her dress riding up ever so slightly at the movement. Niall had these pale dusty blue sheets and they smelt like citrus and wood on the bed. She never came into his room, or even to the frat house because, well, it’s a frat house.

Harry walked over to her towering over her, cutting her thoughts of their best friend from her mind. His hand moved to touch her cheek, the curve of her skin was searing hot and Harry could feel her melt into his hand.

“Hi, Styles,” She whispered shyly, lips moving as slow as molasses dripping off a spoon. He knew for a fact she tasted just as sweet too.

He smirked down at her, God he wanted to just eat her right up. She was looking up at him all doe-eyed, her little hand creeping underneath his shirt. She was so cute, so fucking adorable. He could feel the gentle caress of her nails against his hip and he felt his skin pimple in goosebumps.

“Hi, Baby.” He replied, moving to sit down beside her. His large, muscled, thigh pressed into hers emitting a warmth she welcomed. Her hands fell into her lap now as she watched him through hooded eyes.

She blushed some more, “What does Niall need our help with in here?”

Harry laughed and it bellowed out, as he placed a soft hand on her knee. Her skin was soft like butter, and he rubbed her knee tenderly. She was perfect, in every sense of the bloody word. 

“Nothing, I just wanted you to myself, Trouble.”

She giggled, and it made Harry’s chest swell. He loved her. He loved her so much. 

“Oh I see,” She said, her hand landing on his. He slowly dragged his hand further up her leg and couldn’t wipe the smile off his face for the life of him.

“You look fucking beautiful, by the way,” He whispered, squeezing her thigh.

She smiled brightly, and she leaned over to smear a quick kiss on his jaw. “Aw, thanks Styles, I went all out because I knew Niall would have my ass if I didn’t dress ‘properly’.”

Harry laughed, tipping his head back. “Well, I’m certainly enjoying you like this. You look…Jesus Y/n, I mean, are you trying to kill me? You really are trouble, aren’t you gorgeous girl?”

She pouted at him leaning in closer, he could smell her perfume and shampoo so heavily now and he was intoxicated by it. Y/n smelt so good, and the scent of her grounded him. He wanted to keep her right here all night, and maybe he would if he was lucky. Y/n didn’t seem to be in a rush to leave their little bubble.

And she knew Emma was very distracted with Zayn, they were still going out. But honestly, Y/n didn’t suspect they’d last much longer, she could already sense her best friend’s restlessness. It wasn’t anything that Y/n judged, but Emma never stayed with a boy longer than a month. She used to think it was a Styles thing, but Harry hadn’t been with anyone else in months, not since that night they shared.

“Am not.” She said, faking petulance. He leaned down close enough that his lips just grazed hers, and she wanted so badly to join their lips. But she didn’t know if that was what he wanted, so she just waited.

“You so are.” He replied.

She leaned into his neck with a sigh, he smelt like always; mint, tobacco, vanilla, and something undeniably Harry. He was intoxicating and the drink she’d had made her blood rush with a want that thumped so intensely. She wanted Harry, so badly, and her control was wilting away with each second that passed.

The devil had a magic spell on the angel.

“Can I kiss you, Trouble?” He asked softly, pushing a strand of loose hair behind her ear. He noticed a pair of dangly pearl earrings and untangled the hair from them.

Y/n was amazed by how soft and gentle he was with her. She’d imagined him to be a lot cooler, icy, and most of the time he played the part brilliantly. Before that night in the kitchen, all Harry had been was a cold-hearted frat boy who she thought was sexy. Because that’s all he pretended to be around her before this.

She hadn’t known hiding underneath the cool exterior was a warmth more scorching than the sun.

She giggled at him, eyes shutting for a second, before open to see him smiling back at her. “Do you even have to ask that? Isn’t it obvious I’m dying to kiss you, Styles?”

He rolled his eyes, smirk growing even bigger. “C’mere.”

She shifted closer swinging both her legs over his lap and scooting so close their chests pressed together. She felt her heart speed up at the thought of their lips becoming one. Harry was the one to lean down and connect their lips together in a soft gentle greeting. She tasted like rum and peaches, and he sighed at the taste. He’d wanted to do that all night, and he was relieved to have finally fulfilled his wish. Her soft hands had found their way onto his cheeks, and his hand landed on her waist to keep her nice and snug against him.

It wasn’t long until the little breathy sounds she was making had him needy for her, his tummy curled in desire. And in a hurry of want, he pulled her onto his lap properly and she squealed quietly. Laughing against her lips, he smiled. Pulling away to whisper, “I missed you, so much.”

She rolled her eyes. “You saw me like an hour ago.”

She saw him before they arrived. Having got ready at Emma’s, he’d seen her before she was dressed and left for the party. He snuck a quick peck on her lips while Emma was in the shower before he left. The sneaking around was getting more bold, and Y/n knew she should tell Emma soon but she just didn’t know how. 

Plus what were they? She could hardly say ‘Hey Em been shagging your brother for a bit.’

Harry shrugged at her words. “I don’t care, I miss you the second you’re gone.”

Her lips landed on his cheek, leaving a kiss print of pink and she giggled, thumb coming up to wipe it off. 

“Oops.” She giggled.

“What, you didn’t miss me, Baby?” He whispered, tone all sultry, it made her stomach curl viciously. He seriously would be the death of her. She should’ve known from the minute she met him it would be.

“Obviously. Now kiss me like you mean all that sap,” She ordered him, and there was no need to tell him twice. He kissed her again, tongue sliding into her mouth to swirl against hers. His lips moulded perfectly into hers as his hands slid up under her dress gliding over the soft skin of her bum. The tiniest underwear she owned covered her and he felt the lace under his palm, which pulled a groan from out of him as Y/n shifted herself against his hips unconsciously. She moaned softly at the feeling of his stiff cock digging into her knickers, one of her hands balling his shirt up in her hand.

He squeezed her ass tightly and pulled back for a breath to leave kisses along her jaw and neck. Nipping at the skin below her ear, he whispered to her softly. “Such a good girl, Y/n.”

She sighed at the feeling, eyes fluttering closed and mouth open slightly. She couldn’t help it, Harry was just so warm, so inviting, that she felt herself melting against his firm chest. She’d been so needy without him, and the pep talk she’d given herself before tonight had gone out the window as soon as she’d seen him.

They hadn’t been together in so long, and she’d gotten herself off this morning but it wasn’t the same without Harry there. She’d been wishing it was him the whole time.

“You’re mouth is criminal, Styles. Could get me to do anything.” She admitted softly finger running along his bottom lip. It was all pink and wet from her mouth, and she briefly remembered the feeling of him sucking on her clit, fighting the urge to stop her eyes from rolling back into her head at the memory.

He looked up quickly, meeting her eyes. 

“Anything?” He asked mischievously. 

She shrugged leaning down to plant a quick kiss against his swollen lips, “Probably.”

He laughed at that and trapped her into another kiss. They were growing more heated and passionate, her hips grazing against him ever so slightly, as gentle moans left her mouth. Harry swallowed each sound and let her use him for friction, the dull ache in his balls subsided a little less when she did it. He honestly thought he could cum his pants from it if she just went a little bit harder, for a little bit longer.

His hands gripped her a bit harder and pushed her more firmly against him, and the feel of her warmth against him grew stronger. He guessed that by now she was probably wet, and the thought made his cock twitch. Her pussy filled his daydreams, and his mouth salivated at the thought.

She whined into his mouth and whispered a swear against him. His large hand rubbed a circle on her bum, and he decided that this must be heaven. A pretty angel with Y/n’s form was here with him, and sitting right up against his stiffy. That was his idea of heaven.

His hands hidden under the dress, smooth skin under his palms, his hand could barely feel any fabric he knew just how tiny the sorry excuse of knickers she was wearing was, and this only riled him up more. She was so fucking hot. Sexiest little thing.

As she began to grow more needy for a release the feel of his rough jeans combined with the thin lace knickers she was wearing rubbing against her clit, she thought she could cum from this. The prickling heat had started to spark up her spine and she moaned at the bulge of his cock pressing into her. He began to kiss down her neck again and along her chest, and she felt her pleasure growing in her tummy.

Suddenly feeling close, she pushed his shoulders down so that he was lying on his back, and he smirked at the way she grew more needy for it. He loved seeing her use him to get herself off, he didn’t mind letting her be in charge every once in a while. She rested her cheek against his shoulder as she moved her hips in long but hard motions. All rough, and desperate, and Harry loved to see her so riled up. God, she was so perfect. They hadn’t properly seen each other since that night after her terrible date with Peter, and he was growing tired of fisting his cock in the shower. It didn’t compare to the real deal.

Not to mention he just missed talking to her and being with her, and even if the only thing to happen tonight was for her to get off on his leg while he kissed her pretty little mouth, he’d be completely happy with that.

With Y/n he would do just about anything because, well, it was with her.

Eventually, she whispered a soft, “I’m close,” in his ear.

Harry shifted his hips to move with hers  “Cum for me angel,” He whispered into her ear. And just as she was about to cum the door swung up and her movements halted. Harry was about to shout a quick ‘fuck off’ because it was probably a drunk person looking for the loo, but the voice that met their ears wasn’t a stranger.

Oh shit.

“Y/n? Is that a- is that a Harry under you?” Asked the drunken voice of Niall. His voice was slightly slurring, and the gasp he’d let out made them know for sure who it was. 

He could see the familiar tattooed arms wrapped around her which made him immediately know it was Harry and underneath the fluffy material of her dress he saw a flash of pink knickers and that mermaid tattoo Niall actually went with him when he got done, caught his attention, as he let out a loud yelp.

Honestly, he’d never date either of them. But the bisexual side of him was slightly aroused. They were hot, and together? God. Just delicious.

Y/n winced and shut her eyes, sitting up, “Uh…no??” 

Harry laughed at her attempt to lie and she hit his chest. “Shh! Shut up, Styles!”

Niall shut the door walking inside further, uncaring of the position they were in, and the fact he could see Harry’s stiffy pressing up into Y/n’s thigh. 

“What the fuck?” He said, and they could hear the betrayal in his tone. Normally Harry told him everyone he slept with and always stayed in the loop, even if it was a simple statement like he hooked up with blah at blah he always told him. And Y/n told him everything too, mostly, or at least he thought she did.

Y/n sat up sliding off Harry who sat up, stiff cock still standing tall, and his balls aching. Sitting beside him, Y/n hung her head, like a child ready for scolding.

“We wanted to tell you, mate,” He started, lifting his hands up to run through his hair and chucking the plastic red horns onto the bed, as he shifted on the bed. 

Niall placed a hand to his chest mouth parted open like a fish. His long sheet turned toga covering very little of his muscled chest as he squeezed the flesh there. 

“I’m like so betrayed bitches, why didn’t you tell me? Did this just happen? Is this new? What on earth is going on?”

Y/n laughed at his bombard of questions, he obviously wasn’t too cross with them which relieved the tightness in her chest. 

She didn’t look at Harry when she spoke, instead playing with her fingers in her lap and fidgeting, “We haven’t told anyone…it’s well, I’m not sure exactly what is, Ni.”

Harry looked up at her statement and rolled his eyes. “I am, I fancy the fuck out of you, Trouble. We just haven’t told anyone because Emma would lose it. Remember when I got with Y/n’s old roommate that redhead I forget her name, and Emma shunned her from the group?”

Niall nodded, mulling things over. “Right, yeah. She wasn’t happy about that. Which is sad, I liked that girl, great tits.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and wanted to laugh, clearly, they didn’t like her that much if they couldn’t remember her name.

Y/n stood up. “Ni, I know you’re in shock and offended we didn’t tell you. Which is so fair, but Em doesn’t know yet, and she will kill me. Seriously murder me, especially if she finds out from someone who isn’t me. So you can’t tell a soul.”

He looked down at her and nodded. “Of course, I won’t tell anyone, just Benny.”

Benny was his cat, a fat ginger tabby, who was an old thing that Y/n found hiding behind his car one afternoon. Turns out he was abandoned, back then he’d been a thin little thing, but now Niall fed him up probably too much.

Y/n hugged him, and Niall’s hands slid down to her waist. “Thank you, mate,”

He just nodded, and let out a breath.

“Okay, I’m gonna grab some spliff from in here,” He rustled around, “then you can get back to it. Just don’t spunk all over my bed kids, and if you need a cum rag still one from next door, Jimbo keeps stealing my spliff so,” He said walking over to his shelf and grabbing a tin box full of weed, and his monkey bong from beside his telly.

He shut the door with a hushed bye, and then Y/n finally looked at Harry to see he was already staring up at her from his seat on the edge of the bed. Still standing up, anxiety fluttering her tummy.

“So you fancy me, huh?” She said teasingly with a smile, her lipstick was smudged and he could taste her peach-flavoured lipgloss on his lips still, he licked them in thought.

They hadn’t really discussed much about their relationship. But she was fairly certain he liked her. And she could tell he got jealous, that was obvious. But the sudden change from being the brooding older brother of her best friend, who constantly treated her like a ghost, and teased her about her behaviour to this. This intense, honest, and obsessed boy. It was like whiplash.

All those years? What had changed him in these few weeks?

She would probably always fancy him even if nothing ever comes from this, a piece of her will always belong to him, does he know that? She always felt like she was more transparent than he was.

But right now, just his eyes were a giveaway of his feelings. 

The normally stoic, and cold, gaze was suddenly soft and molten. Even though only a few minutes before they’d been seconds away from getting off and kissing, now it was a soft cosy little bubble.

She was suddenly overwhelmed with a memory. When she was a kid and she’d go to her grandparent’s house she’d find herself sitting in their attic, which they’d turned a library nook which had a big window seat that caused the carpet to get all sun-soaked around noon and she’d flick through dozens of photo albums of her grandparents. The couple had grown up together as neighbours, and been in love since they were five years old.

Her grandparents were still so in love to this day, and her grandma always said you can tell by someone’s eyes if their feelings are true. Y/n’s grandfather’s eyes never turned hard around his wife, and Y/n always took notice. The strong, tall, soldier, was an absoloute sap for her.

Y/n had always hoped one day, she would find a love timeless and comfortable like theirs. Which is probably why she’d never gotten into many casual things, and was against that, she just always hoped one day Harry’s eyes would be like that but now that it was happening she almost couldn’t believe it.

Can people lie with their eyes like they can with their mouth? Can Harry?

He nodded. “Isn’t that very obvious, gorgeous?”

She sat down next to him, and she could feel the steamy moment blossoming into something more intimate and soft. She shrugged and looked down at the hands on his lap, and said nervously, “I don’t know,”

He pouted and slid his hand onto her knee. “We can’t have that,”

She looked up at him, her confidence melting away. She felt fourteen all over again, watching Harry pine over other girls and crying when she got home that he didn’t fancy her. Trying to dress more maturely and act like the girls he’d fancied the next day only to go unnoticed. Praying the red bikini she bought that was pretty skimpy for fifteen would catch his gaze when they had a pool party, only for him to makeout with some girl in front of her.

She could admit her crush on him was embarrassing to look back on, but when she got older a few years down the track she’d grown to accept it wasn’t supposed to be and decided she wouldn’t try to change to be perfect for him. Because in reality that isn’t what Harry went for anyway.

She couldn’t help but feel fourteen and insecure again. Why did he all of a sudden feel into her? 

“Well, y’cant blame me. You hook up with a lot of girls H, and that’s okay, but you know I’m not very experienced. I just- I like you. I always have. But what makes what we are doing different from Jenny, the redheaded roommate from first year.” She said, and his eyes pinched with a prickle of sadness.

He had no idea Y/n still felt this way, after the past few weeks he was certain she’d always secretly known how much he liked her. He thought his affection for her was so bloody obvious but clearly she’d never picked up on that.

He sighed, “I used to get with a lot of people, Trouble. Used to, I don’t want too anymore. Not after the night we shared.” He started, licking his lips and leaning closer. “And you are different from everyone I’ve ever slept with because I actually want more than that…I love having sex with you, Princess, but I also love talking to you, I love being with you, and you are the most lovely person I have ever met.”

Y/n felt the air disappear from her lungs. “You’re special, and I wish I would’ve done something about it sooner instead of wasting our time.”

She smiled, one that hurt her cheeks. She felt them grow rosy as he continued talking. 

“And fuck, you drive me crazy. But I miss you the minute you leave, and you are the only person I have ever wanted. Even when were kids. I don’t know how you never noticed, Y/n, but it’s probably because I’m such a tit sometimes. I never made things easy on you, and I’m sorry.”

The validation and shock were overwhelming to Y/n. 

Her heart practically stopped.

He’d liked her too? 

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. 

Her heart skipped a few beats in her chest, and she felt herself trying to process his confession. 

He’d liked her too? All this time he’d liked her too? What the fuck.

“I may have always been a total dick, but I’ve always fancied you. Ever since I could remember. If Emma wasn’t an issue I would already have told everyone that I fancy the fuck out of you, including you.” He said, lifting a finger to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I would’ve tried to get with you years ago, but the idea of not having you at all was what stopped me.”

He paused, swallowing as he watched her stay silent, and listen. “If I could change the way we started this I would’ve done it properly. Asked you out somewhere nice, worn my best, all of it. But I didn’t expect for us to happen.”

He sighed, “And I didn’t want to have to make you choose between me or her, like I know Em will probably make you, and I’ve been selfish letting myself have you these past few months. But fuck, I just have no control when it comes to you,”

Y/n blinked slowly. Because holy fuck. He liked her back, he always had, and he would’ve been with her sooner if not for the obstacle of her best friend. She couldn’t believe it. She really was sure she must be dreaming and had to stop herself from pinching her skin.

Her lips curved in a smirk, and she put her hand on his hand that was resting on her knee and said. “So, what exactly does that make us, Styles?”

He smiled and for what felt like the first Y/n thought Harry looked nervous. He lifted his free hand to scratch the back of his neck, cheeks dusted in a rosy hue as he tried to get the words out.

“If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

She giggled and he felt nervous while he waited for her response. 

“Mine?” She asked, liking the way it rolled off her tongue, her long lashes fluttering as she looked up at him.

He nodded once again, and she leaned close nose brushing his, and kissed him. As a soft ‘okay’ slipped past her lips he wrapped his arms around her back and smiled pulling apart from her lips for just a moment. 

Excitement rushed through him, as his heart raced. She was looking right back at him, and he felt blissfully happy.

“Okay?!” He asked, unable to hide his relief and surprise.

She laughed tossing her head back, “Yes, Styles.”

He pulled her into a tight hug and she couldn’t stop smiling against his chest, he smelled so good. When he pulled her back at arm’s length once more he looked at her, eyes scanning the plane of her beautiful face. The dim lighting didn’t offer much but he already had every detail of her face memorised. 

“Y’do know this makes you my girlfriend, right?” He said, once again checking she knew what she’d just agreed to.

She nodded laughing, and sliding her hands up under his shirt by his hips. “Yes, I’m aware, boyfriend.”

This made him kiss her again and her hands moved to his back as he rolled them over, his chest pressing into her as she melted into the plush bed. He kissed her desperately, leaving them both no chance to breathe. As her legs split open for him to rest on top of her, she felt something hard press into her. Not his prick, no it was in his pocket, how come she hadn’t noticed before when she was sitting on him? 

She touched it with her hand, and Harry took notice, pulling back gently as his ragged breath fanned her flushed face. 

“Sorry, Trouble.” He whispered breathily, as he dug around in his pocket, sitting up on his knees as Y/n leaned back on her arms watching him.

In his hand was a little black box, it was velvet and she wondered what on earth he had in there. She frowned, eyebrows pinching confusedly, as she watched him hesitate to open it or explain.

Rather than speaking, he opened the box finding inside a sparkling gold necklace. It glittered under the fairy lights Niall had on his headboard. She squinted sitting up straighter, slightly dizzy from it all.

A soft giggle erupted from her lips, and she felt her smile grow wider. Her dainty hand reached out to graze it.

This boy really was full of surprises. “I just- I thought we’d talk tonight so….”

A little golden H on a chain glittered the box, and she felt eagerness bubble in her tummy. Flowing through her veins, as she smirked at him, and bit her lip, “I thought you were joking when you said all those things.”

That night after he’d picked her up from that horrible blind date, and they’d shared a long night together. She thought his jealousy, and possessiveness was laced into his sexual fantasies. Not real jealousy. Because since when was Harry one to care about anything when it came to girls, other than getting his cock wet?

He only smiled, a wicked look coming across his features, God, he really was so bloody devilishly handsome. 

“I don’t joke about what belongs to me, Y/n,” His voice drawled softly, and her stomach curled. The way he was looking at her was enough to rile her up all over again. 

She moved one of her hands to slide up along his arm, her pink long nails scratching the inked skin softly as she lifted his wrist to her chest and pressed a kiss on his knuckles softly. His breath hitched at the sight of her. 

She was so adorable. 

Y/n gradually brought his palm to her neck, and his fingers gently slid around her throat and she bit her lip. 

“Take this off,” She sighed.

He knew she was referring to her initial around her neck, and his cock twitched. Fuck, for an innocent little angel, she knew his game.

His fingers found the clasp and took the necklace off. It was dainty in his hands and what she did next surprised him. Grabbing the necklace from his palm she sat up a bit more on the bed and slid it around his neck, the chain was still warm from her neck, but he shivered as she touched him anyway.

She clasped it on, and it dangled alongside the cross his mother had given him. It was so dainty, you’d hardly notice it. She liked the idea of her initial constantly hanging there beside the cross. He never took the cross off, not even in the shower. Her finger lined them up perfectly, the cross was slightly longer and she made sure they weren’t tangled.

He leaned down now, almost face to face.

“Now everyone gets t’know what’s mine too, don’t they, Harry?” She whispered and licked her lips at the way the chains dangled down near her forehead.

He smirked down at her, dimples popping. “Yes, Angel, they do.” 

She grabbed the necklace from the box and handed it to him. “Put mine on, Styles.”

He obeyed and put the necklace on, the cool chain made goosebumps pimple her skin. It dipped just above the swell of her tits, and he smiled at the sight. His perfect little angel, marked under his name.

“Gorgeous little thing.” He whispered and put the box on the bedside table.

Y/n grabbed his shoulders bringing him back down, he captured her lips against his and they kissed. It was all tongues, teeth, and a mess of noses bumping each other. A feverish kiss, full of a searing heat that had been waiting to burst for a few weeks now.

Y/n’s soft legs wrapped around him, the heels of her shoes digging into his bum as she pressed her heat closer to his once again stiff prick, as he moved his mouth down along her jaw and neck. Slowly spreading his kisses to her chest, and once he got to the H necklace he smirked to himself. He had to be dreaming.

His hands found the zipper of her dress and began to tug the fluffy sleeves down, which revealed her bare chest. Her nipples hardened as his hands grazed them, rough and calloused fingers teasing her nipples, and he moaned, at the feel of her, before latching his lips around one of them.

His filthy, fast, searing hot tongue glided along her. He looked up to see her reaction and the breathless, blushed face made him jut his hips into the bed. God, he wanted her.

“Naughty lil’ thing,” He whispered, looking up at her as he began to leave marks along her chest. Her hands fell to his hair and tugged on the mess of curls, playing with the hair distractedly. 

“Tiny knickers, no bra, all for who, Baby?” He tsked her, looking up to see her expressions but her eyes had shut, and she was sighing softly. She looked off in her own world.

“You,” She keened, eyes opening only to find that green already staring right back at her.

He smiled at that and planted another kiss on her lips before moving down the bed, shifting so that he was kneeling on the floor as he tugged up the fluffy skirt hem, and put his face between her thighs. Kissing, sucking, and nipping on her soft skin. She moaned at the feeling of him, and the drink she’d had made her loose-lipped and slightly louder than she normally would be in a bedroom at a party hiding from her best mate.

She knew they shouldn’t be doing this, but they were together now, she could hardly leave this conversation without celebrating.

His nose brushed against her knickers, and her hips jolted up in his face. He smirked against her and his big, strong, ring-covered hands pushed her hips flat on the bed as he looked up at her. “That’s right, Trouble, all f’me. Only f’me. Sucha’ good girl.”

One of his hands moved to her knickers and pushed the thin string aside, revealing her gorgeous dripping pussy. His mouth practically watered at the sight, ever since the night he had a chance to taste her it was something that had overtaken his fantasies when he fisted his cock, he loved being between her legs and it was all he could think about most nights before bed.

When he began kissing her clit, she knew it was going to be hard to pull him away. His tongue darted out along into her hole, and he started licking into her desperately, as her legs fell over his shoulders and she let out a soft cry.

“Mm, fuck, Daddy,” She moaned, and her hands fell into his hair as she began to tug on it in gratitude. Her long nails scratched his scalp, and he moaned against her clit causing her legs to squeeze against his head in pleasure.

One of his hands moved up to her thigh and he pushed it backward, giving him a better view of her. With his other hand, he moved his fingers up to her lips and tapped against her bottom lip. She knew he wanted her to suck on them, and did so happily. They muffled her moans as he continued hungrily licking up all the slick dripping out of her needy little pussy.

He could feel her tongue swirling around his fingers and his cock jealously throbbed in his pants. He was happy with how dripping in her saliva his fingers had become and he brought his hand back down to join his tongue. With his middle finger, he slowly started teasing her weeping hole, and she let out a harsh cry. 

“Please,” She begged desperately and tugged on his hair.

He pulled back, lips covered in slick all plump and pink. “I know, Princess, I know,”

And just like that his fingers slipped inside her, filling her up so that she felt nice and snug with him. His lips moved to her clit and he began sucking firmly, this caused her spine to spark with the familiar feeling of her orgasm rising. Her tummy was rolling in waves of pleasure, and her clit was throbbing against his warm wet tongue.

“Daddy, fuck,” She cried, and each breath she let out was a whimper. All desperate, as she clawed his arms and hair, so ready for him to be inside her. So ready to cum. So close.

She felt so fucking good. His mouth was like heaven and she felt the high she’d been chasing for weeks close enough that she could almost taste it. The way he was lapping her pussy up like a hungry feral animal. His fingers were long and thick, but nothing compared to his gorgeous prick. They were curling inside her and she could feel him hitting that spongy spot that made her toes curl. 

He noticed her thighs begin to shake and the especially loud gasp she let out when he hit that spot. Continuing his merciless and hard pace he was certain she’d be coming undone soon. His tongue sped up, growing more sloppy and hungry for her orgasm to melt onto his tongue. His free hand squeezed the soft flesh of her thigh, as it shook uncontrollably underneath. 

The animalistic needy way he was licking into her was almost like a beast and its prey. He’d lost all sense of his surroundings, where he was, and what was happening outside of this room, all his focus was on Y/n. Her sweet, tangy, taste, the sounds of her whimpers which went straight to his throbbing cock, and the feel of her skin under his hands, the slick coating his tongue.

Her.

When Y/n came for him, it wasn’t gentle and quiet like they’d planned. No, her hands clawed at the soft cotton bedsheets as her back arched up uncontrollably. A loud long cry of Harry’s name fell from her swollen lips, as her pussy throbbed and waves of pleasure washed over her. Her body shuddered and his tongue hadn’t stopped until he’d licked up all the slick off her, and she pushed his head back with a shiver.

“Sensitive,” She whispered.

He smiled at her. “You’re so fucking beautiful,”

She blushed, and pulled him up closer to her, trapping him in a long loving kiss. She could taste herself on his lips but didn’t have it in herself to care. His hands caressed the curve of her body as she rolled on top of him. 

His firm cock was digging into her hip as she kissed him, in no particular hurry at all, and her hand found its way to his jean button. Popping it open and sliding her small, warm, hand into his briefs. She could feel how hard he was and pulled him out. He sprung up against his tummy, and Y/n began to stroke him softly and slowly. The reddened tip of his cock was drooling in beads of precum.

Her lips still smearing against his, as his tummy curled in desire. The sleeves of her dress had fallen down, and she looked all messy from having cum just a few seconds before. She was so beautiful.

As she moved down the bed. Her legs bracketed his and she rested her cheek on his hip bone, lips pouty as she looked up at him. Her hand was still holding the base of him, as smiled. A shadow of him cast over her innocent looking face.

“You have sucha’ pretty cock, Daddy,” She whispered, eyes mesmerised by the sight. And she wasn’t lying, he really did have such a pretty cock. The prettiest.

“All yours, Princess,” He said softly, and despite the fact his hard massive prick was out, the way he spoke was so tender and gentle.

“Can I suck you off?”

He nodded. “Course y’can, Angel, go ahead.”

She rested between his legs with her bum arched up as she leaned down to swallow him in her mouth. Her saliva dripped down along his shaft, as he watched her take him in her mouth. He hardly fit, so she used her hands too, and each time she dared to go deeper her throat gagged around him. Coughing and spluttering, as she attempted to suck him off.

She tried for a few more minutes, unable to get the fast deep pace she wanted. Harry wanted to laugh at her attempts, she was so adorable trying to fit his huge cock inside her little mouth. He didn’t mind watching her pathetic attempts to deep-throat him.

She pulled off for a second, a string of drool connecting them, “Can y’help me make it fit, Daddy?”

He nodded, hand coming to stroke her cheek, “Just tap my thigh if it’s too much, Baby,”

She nodded before moving back down to wrap her lips around a third of him, she could feel his tip hitting her throat already. Her slick spit had dripped all the way down to his balls and her free hand moved to gently massage them.

He moaned. “Fuck, good girl,”

His hips slowly moved up into her mouth, and she choked on him without pulling away, his pace began to become more regular as she let him fuck her mouth.

“Daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?”

She made a noise his cock, and he just pushed himself deeper, hands moving to hold her hair in a loose ponytail in his fist, “What was that, sweet girl?”

He teased, as she tried to mumble a yes, despite the fact her mouth was stuffed full of him. He laughed sadistically, tossing his head back as he let out a deep rumble of a groan.

His hips speed up desperately as he feels orgasm feels closer. “So fuckin’ good, Y/n, fuck,”

Her hands massaging his balls, and the base of his cock that couldn’t fit, along with her warm, wet, hot, little throat made Harry certain he’d only last a few more minutes. His rhythm grew more sloppy, as he watched Y/n take him. Her eyes were crying with tears from his rough pace, and she was squeezing her thighs together at the noises he was making.

His cock disappearing into her, was enough to have him hissing and whimpering. “Oh, fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me cum, such a good girl f’me.”

He pushed her head down a few more times, listening to the way her mouth made sloppy noises around him, and he let out a deep guttural moan as he felt his cum start to leak out into her throat. His throat rumbled gravelly moans as his hips lifted up into her throat. Holding her head there to take all of his cum, before finally pulling her off. 

She let in some deep ragged breaths, mascara running down her face, and his cum dribbling from her chin. There had been so much of it, that she was almost jealous he hadn’t spilled it inside her. She shut her eyes and let her lungs finally have some air again. She’d gotten dizzy around him.

Her tongue darted out to collect the cum that had split, as she drooped to rest her head against his thigh again. His hands moved to her back and rubbed some soft scratches along her shoulder blades.

“You okay, Trouble?”

She nodded looking up with her glassy eyes, and glossy-coated lips, “Did I do alright, Styles?”

His brows pinched and he shook his head at her question, grabbing her so they were face to face, “You are the most beautiful girl in the world, and your mouth, was made for my cock,”

She sat up and pulled him in for a kiss. A soft one, slow, and comfortable. As he rubbed her exposed skin. She was so warm, silky, and supple under his palms. He wished to stay like this always.

He eventually turned her so that she was on her side, one of his legs between her two plump thighs, and they continued to kiss. His kisses travelled to her shoulder and neck as she played with his hair.

She whispered softly in his hair, which smelt like his shampoo, a chestnut-scented one. “I want you, Harry, please,”

And if Harry thought he’d been really needy before, he was sorely mistaken, because seeing his messy-looking girlfriend begging for him to fuck her, had him only thinking of him stuffing her full until she cums for him, over and over and over. His cock had already hardened once more and he rolled on top of her.

“Okay, my love,” He said softly, as he kissed her forehead, lips meeting again in a kiss.

Her soft hands moved up under his shirt squeezing his hips, soon tugging on the hem until Harry realised she wanted it off. They parted their lips breathlessly as he pulled the shirt up over him, muscles flexing as he threw it somewhere they didn’t care to look. She smirked against the curve of his shoulder as he moved back on top of her, and her hands stroked the rippling muscles of his skin, finding a home on his back. 

They were too desperate to get all their clothes off, but Harry had tugged down the top of her dress, fluffy sleeves hanging on her arms lopsidedly, revealing her beautiful chest which had marks already blooming from his previous bites, and he’d bunched her dress up around her hips. The plumes of the skirt of her dress hid her wet little pussy from them both, but he could feel her. He slipped his hand down between her thighs and shoved the thin string that was her knickers to the side so he could slip his prick inside of her with ease.

He looked up at her. She was biting her lip, eyes shut, a look of complete desire on her face. Waiting for him.

“You okay, Trouble? Ready f’me?” He asked her, the tip of him teasing her. Pressing into her swollen clit as her hips squirmed at the attention of him. She was about ready to cry over how much she wanted it.

“Yes, please, Daddy, want you.” She said in a desperate tone, she almost looked in pain over it. He leaned down to kiss her temple before he slowly guided himself inside her. Inch by inch she felt herself split open for him, a familiar sting washing over her like always because of his absolutely ridiculously large prick.

When he reached the hilt of her and had stuffed her as full as he could he leaned back down, arms hugging her close to him, chests pressing together as his head fell into the crook of her shoulder. Her arms had moved to his back, long nails already digging into his skin. 

“Fuck,” He whispered. As she moaned at the feeling of him. A soft cry, that had his balls aching for release.

She was breathless from the feeling of being full of him. 

When she eventually told him he could move he began to, at a hard but slow pace. Each thrust hit her so hard she let out the loudest noise she ever had. Her pouty lips formed an O shape as she clung to him tightly, trying to stay still despite how sensitive she felt. He was groaning against her shoulder and neck, and the tightness of her pussy had him shaking. She was so warm, and tight, and god. So perfect.

Her mouth was by his arm and she kissed the soft skin, as he began to speed up. The pair of them both getting more and more desperate for their release. She could tell because his thrusts were growing more sloppy, and less calculated. Her hand slid between where they joined, and she began to rub firm lazy circles on her swollen bud. It wasn’t long before she unravelled on his cock, he could feel the way she squeezed him, and soaked his prick, as she cried out his name. 

“M’cumming, H, please,” She didn’t know what exactly it was she was begging for. But he seemed too.

He kissed her lips, a gentle peck, “I know, Baby, let me take care of you,” He whimpered, he was trying to help her through it without cumming himself.

Her nails scratched into his back, harshly, as he hissed in pain and pleasure. She nodded, letting him help her through the intense feeling of her orgasm. His cock was so deep, she felt like she wanted to cry. 

“Thas’ it, m’love, such a pretty little angel, f’me,” He praised as she squirted on his cock.

When the peak of her orgasm subsided, she noticed Harry’s thrusts grow uneven and she helped him by rolling her hips to meet his.

She looked so spent, and her eyes opened to watch him as he came undone, lip caught between her teeth. 

Those eyes are what did it for him. He came, hard, and fast. Hot cum shooting up inside her, as he flopped down with a guttural, deep, moan of her name. Whispering sweet nothings as he let himself fill her up with his release. Balls twitching, while his hot breath raggedly hit her neck.

“S’fuckin’ good,” He said, kissing her lips. “My perfect girl,”

She kissed back tiredly. Just as they were about to kiss even more deeply the shrill sound of Y/n’s phone ringing erupted in the room. Fleetwood Mac was her ringtone and Y/n pulled back to see who it was. 

Incoming call from Em💛🌻 lit up Y/n’s screen and a photo of Emma from primary school was the picture. She looked so cute and ridiculous in it.

Y/n now noticed about five messages from her. And Harry noticed her stiffen, pulling out of her to sit up and, she winced at the feeling. Suddenly empty of him, and wishing he’d stayed a little longer.

Harry tried not to notice the way his cum leaked out of her, but it made his cock twitch, he walked around Niall’s room until he found some tissues. Coming over and gently wiping her up, while Y/n replied to Emma’s text.

Her pussy was sore, and swollen, from pleasure. As he cleaned her up, she flinched. 

He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Sorry, Trouble, I’ll try n’ be gentle.”

Once he’d gotten her all cleaned up they sat up and fixed her outfit. Pulling the straps back up over her shoulders, and her fluffy tule down, the sticky knickers covered in their cum made their way off her. His rough hands remained soft on her hips as he slid them off.

“What are you doing, Styles?” She asked eyes wide, and doe-eyed. Suddenly all innocent again, like she hadn’t just squirted all over his cock in someone else’s bed.

“Can’t have you all sticky can I? Don’t worry I’ll hold onto them.” He said sliding them into his front pocket. The pale pink lace bunched up in a tiny ball, not sticking out. All tucked away, their filthy little secret.

She blushed a rosy hue and was about to protest but he kissed her and grabbed her hand to sit her up, pulling her by her wrists to stand up with him. Tugging the hem of her dress down so she was covered, as hunted around the room for his own clothes. Quickly tidying himself up and finding the devil horns that Y/n had thrown out of his hair at some point, before stealing one last kiss from her.

It was deep and slow, tongues melting together, as he moaned softly against her, his hands hugging her body nice and close to his. He felt weird having sex and going back downstairs so quickly, he was so used to cuddling with Y/n now, but he was sure she felt okay and he tried to assure her.

 “Go find Em, I’ll find you in a bit, okay? Don’t go anywhere, Trouble,” He said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears and placing one final kiss on her forehead before letting her go.

Her face hurt from smiling so much, and she turned to leave, but just as she was about to open the door she turned back around and ran over to him to quickly place a kiss on his cheek. He smiled at her, god, she was cute.

And watched as she disappeared back outside into the real world, sighing to himself. He took a moment to sit down on the bed, taking in deep breaths as he beat himself up silently. He was partly celebrating in his head because holy shit, Y/n was his girl now, officially, she’d signed her name on the dotted line with the devil, handing over her precious angel soul. His initial hung around her neck, a silent show. 

But he did wish he could’ve told her he loved her. Because god, did he love that girl, his chest physically hurt to be apart from her, it ached. He never felt that way about anyone before. Y/n is home, Y/n is happiness, Y/n is his childhood, and Y/n is his first and only love.

He should tell her. He silently decided to work up the courage soon, when the moment felt right. When neither of them had been drinking.

As Y/n walked down the stairs in search of her decidedly drunken best friend she sighed quietly, hoping the sex she’d just had didn’t wear on her face, praying her cheeks weren’t flushed in a show of how besotten she was for Harry. 

Y/n’s legs were stiff, and her pussy was still coming down from the high Harry had given her before. She was sore, his cock was still too big for her, and as she walked she tried not to let on how much he’d ruined her. 

Finally spotting her best friend with tears standing by the kitchen she rushed over. Emma began to bombard her with questions but Y/n just shrugged saying she bumped into some people from her Pysch class. 

Emma was far too inebriated to notice the stutter and lie and pulled her to the kitchen to do a few shots. By the time they’d done their third Niall pulled them over into an intense game of beer-pong which surprise surprise they both sucked at, resulting in them drinking a lot of stale-tasting beer. After their harsh loss, they floated over to the dancefloor, which was just the living room. Niall was playing some good music tonight, as per usual, and Y/n felt happy as the two girls melted together in a huge mess of limbs and dancing. 

She swayed her hips, ass pressed against Emma who had wrapped her arms around Y/n’s neck and shoulders. They were both very drunk now, the shots they’d done catching up to them, and the intense game of beer-pong Niall had roped them into had Y/n stumbling.

The house music that was playing made her feel even more off her face as she let her eyes flutter shut. Emma’s hands crept over to his hips and Y/n began to grind against her. They always danced pretty sexually together, and Y/n felt safe in her arms, she’d rather shake her ass against her best friend than some random frat guy.

And if she had to settle for the other Styles she didn’t mind, but she would rather be dancing against Harry. Who she’d lost, she didn’t know where he had gone now. But she let those thoughts drift away as Emma spun her around and they melted into a hug.

Singing to the song as it came to an end, Y/n lifted her head to look at Emma’s pretty face.

“I love you,” She slurred, obviously drunk. She also thinks Zayn and her had maybe spliffed up a bit. Because Emma’s eyes were red and she looked more out of it than normal.

Y/n smiled. “Love you too, Em.”

“I’m gonna go find Zayn, will you be okay?” She asked. 

Y/n nodded, “Yeah, go find him. I’ll go see if Niall is anywhere.”

Emma leaned over planting a peck on her lips, which wasn’t unusual for her, and left. Y/n sighed and instead of finding Niall, she found her body continuing to move along to the rhythm of the song. Her eyes shut once more as she raised her hands and danced her heart out.

She sang along to the song and pretended she was off in a magical land on her own. Time felt like it had slowed. As the song drew to the beat drop she felt a pair of hands slide on her hips and she spun around, uncomfortable at the thought of some strange man grabbing her.

But it wasn’t a strange man, no, it was Niall. She laughed. “Nialler!”

Her hands fell to his shoulders and she began to dance with him. Niall was a notorious flirt across campus, he was bisexual and that meant no one was safe from his constant flirting. And even though Niall had a boyfriend, and wow, now technically she did too they danced like two single people ready to leave together.

His hands melted to her hips and she leaned her chest into his. They jumped and swayed and they were both drunk and on a different planet almost. When she felt another pair of hands melt onto her waist and a warm back press into her she turned to look over her shoulder, it was Harry. 

She leaned into his back her bum pressing against his crotch as she felt his hands firmly stay on her hip bones while Niall’s stayed around her waist. Sandwiched between the two very attractive men had her wanting to laugh.

She giggled, and they both did too. Her head fell back to rest against Harry’s shoulder as they continued vibing along with the song. After a few songs, which flew by in the blink of an eye Paddy wandered over and whisked Niall away who left with an eyebrow raise and from the looks of it they were about to go blowie and make up.

As Y/n turned to face her boyfriend she sighed. Her boyfriend. She had one of those! 

She leaned forward to plant a quick peck on his lips. 

“Take me home, Styles?”

So he did.

love u thanks for ur patience more soon - L xxxx

[luveline]

Wait! Hotch x stripper!reader was so good. I want more of their potential relationship!!

"I want a private dance." 

You look up from your seat at the bar in surprise. Yes, you're in lingerie, and yes, you're in a strip club, but the patrons here usually leave you alone at the bar after a few dances. 

"I'm not doing private dances tonight, honey," you say, sipping at your drink, condensation wetting your hands, "sorry." 

"Are you kidding?" 

You wipe a droplet off of your naked thigh. You should've gone into the dressing rooms and changed, but you'd been dancing for a long time without a break, and craved a little drink to numb your headache. "Not kidding. Sorry," you say again, though apologising makes you feel sick. It's not your fault, you're allowed to say no to private dances, but you've learned that saying sorry helps minimise their anger. 

"That's what you're here for." 

"No," you say, looking away from him. "'M just a dancer. Private dances are done at my discretion." 

"You could at least look at me when I'm talking to you," he says sharply. "Don't be a bitch, sweetheart." 

"That's enough." 

You look up, then, at a familiar voice cutting in. Agent Hotchner stands tall, dark and handsome where he stands behind your disgruntled patron. "Talk to her with respect or don't talk," Agent Hotchner continues. 

"Who are you?" the patron asks. 

He doesn't even need his badge. Hotchner just looks at him, waiting. It's impressive how stony one man can look, how much authority he can carry in little but his stance.

The patron throws you a disgusted look and leaves the way he came. You breathe a sigh of relief, though you're pissed too. You explained yourself twice and it didn't matter, but Agent Hotchner's scolding was enough to send him running. 

"Thank you," you say. 

He shakes his head at you. "You shouldn't have needed my intervention in the first place." 

Your chest hurts with a weird queasy shame. "I know, I should've– I mean, what did I think was gonna happen, sitting here." You laugh awkwardly. 

His frown deepens. "That's not what I meant… I'm sorry." 

"What are you sorry for?" you ask, turning back to your drink. You scratch at the salt along the rim. 

"That it happens, Y/N. That you have to deal with it." 

"Thanks, Agent Hotchner," you say. 

"You can call me Aaron, if you're comfortable."  

He'd said the same a few weeks ago. You'd shown up at the BAU to meet Spencer (who'd been indisposed of, playing an intense game of chess against himself) and he offered you a ride home. He insisted you call Spencer first. He did everything he could to make you feel safe, which is more than most. 

"Aaron," you say, tucking your hands between your thighs. What would his colleagues think of him, here, standing opposite of you and your lingerie? Your chest craned forward ever so slightly, the softness of your stomach and your bruised legs? "I don't know why you're here." 

"I have some questions for you." 

"Am I in trouble?" you ask. 

He gives you a look. You imagine it to be something similar to, No, but I might be. It's a nice fantasy. "No. You were a great help with Lawley. I was hoping we could use your expertise again." 

"Is this going to get dangerous for me?" you ask, tilting your head gently to one side. "Snitching?" 

"I'd never let anything happen to you. And if you were to keep talking to the FBI, we could even facilitate compensation." 

"I sell enough of myself." 

He holds your gaze. "I understand. But I'd really appreciate your help with this." 

"Okay." You slip out of your chair. "Can I get dressed, first, or…" 

"Of course. Take your time." He doesn't gawk at you, doesn't stare, only meets you head on with that familiar furrowed brow. "Does it happen often?" 

You let yourself picture him as neither a customer nor an agent with work to do. For a moment, he's a handsome man, striking heartfelt conversation. "All the time." 

You change into your clothes and meet him again at the bar, where he asks you questions about a patron and you answer to the best of your ability. Before he leaves, he gives you his card. "If you need me," is all he says as he goes. You put the number in your phone and tuck the card into your dressing table, wondering what definition of need fits the bill. 

[7ndipity]

Their Ideal Types

Ot7

Summary: What I believe the members ideal types would be.

Warnings: Swearing, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Please bear in mind tho that these are just my personal opinions, based on what I’ve observed from their personalities and with some references to their astrology charts(if you’re not into that, just ignore those points on each list)

Masterlist

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Jin:

His Capricorn venus means that he’s a little old fashioned in his style of romance, which I think reflects in his statements in the past about being a classic hopeless romantic. He wants someone who he can sweep off their feet and eventually settle down with.

I don’t think he has a huge preference on age, I feel like he’d kinda want either a little older/younger rather than the same age tho.

He’s said once that he wanted someone a little on the chubby side(granted, this was years ago, so I don’t know if that’s still true), he also strikes me as someone who would be drawn more to the classic ‘girly’ vibe(pastel colors, flowy layers, fluffy sweaters, etc) but I think the main vibe he’d look for in a partner is comfort. I don’t quite know how else to describe it other than ‘Ghibli vibes’ if that makes sense?

He would want someone with a classy/graceful air, who’s confident in themselves and not afraid to take the lead sometimes and stand up for themselves.

Someone mature, but not too serious, with a good sense of humor and who’s not afraid to be silly sometimes. Someone affectionate, but not overly clingy.

Someone patient and understanding, who makes it easy for him to open up and be vulnerable.

Yoongi:

Pisces are already very deep feeling signs, but coupled with his Venus in Aries, Yoongi can sometimes come off rather intense in regards to relationships. He’s very matter of fact about his feelings sometimes, and I think he wants someone who can match his frankness. He doesn’t have patience for mind games, if you’re into him, fucking say it.

He’s said before that he doesn’t really have a type, at least when it comes to physical appearances or styles. Imo tho, I feel like he would be into someone with a casual, more tomboyish style(oversized hoodies/sweaters, layered shirts, sneakers, shorter hair)

Doesn’t really have a preference on age either.

He’s said before that he wanted someone similar to himself, with a deep passion for music and creating. Obviously, that doesn’t mean you have to be a professional artist/musician(I actually think he would prefer someone outside the industry, or at least outside the Idol/Kpop sphere), but he definitely needs someone who’s a fellow creative type who can understand that side of him.

Someone patient and warm, with an infectious energy that can help bring his mood up(kinda like Hobi), with a sharp sense of humor like his own.

I think he would like someone who’s somewhat independent, who knows what they want and isn’t willing to take shit from anyone.

Hobi:

His Pisces Venus means he’s very go with the flow when it comes to relationships, so he would want something very relaxed, without any chase or mind games, or anything too rushed either. He wants someone he can just ‘be’ with.

I think he’d prefer someone slightly younger, not significantly tho, just a couple years or so.

I think he’d be into someone ‘cute’, though maybe not necessarily in fashion sense, moreso just their general energy. Style-wise, I think he’d like someone who similar taste as him, more streetwear type clothes.

Someone bright and easygoing, who’s equally happy with going out or staying at home and doing nothing. Someone energetic, who not afraid to be silly at times.

Someone very sweet, kind and gracious(lowkey think he would be into the “mom friend” personality)

He’s said before he wanted to feel cherished in a relationship, so I think he would want someone he can take care of, big fan of skinship(bordering on a little clingy). Someone who makes him feel needed/wanted, who dotes on him over little things.

Namjoon:

Namjoon is like a textbook Virgo, very grounded and practical. However, his Venus in Scorpio means he’s quite intense emotionally and sexually, so he would want a partner that can balance or match his intensity.

I think he would prefer someone his age or slightly younger.

I remember Jk saying once that Joon was into the ‘cute but sexy’ vibe, and I think that’s still true to an extent, he finds people with range very attractive. I don’t know that he really has a preferred style, maybe something more simplistic like his?

He would definitely like someone confident and independent, who can hold their own in a conversation or argument, but still polite and open minded. Someone that can challenge him and his own perceptions.

Someone intelligent, career/goal driven, and creatively minded, someone who he can go to museums/art exhibits with.

I think he would also really like someone who’s into fitness and working out like he is(lowkey loves the idea of gym dates), but it’s not a necessity for him.

Jimin:

He’s a classic Libra to his core(which I love abt him but it also drives me crazy). As much as he loves to tease, he doesn’t have the patience for too much chase or playing hard to get. He wants someone who’ll be honest about their feelings.

I think he would want someone close to his age, a little older/younger doesn’t make much difference to him.

He said before that he tends to prefer cuter appearance/vibes, but with his Venus in Scorpio, I think he would be drawn to someone with a bit of a darker, sensual contrast in their personality or looks, kinda like him.

He’s a hopeless romantic,(his favorite movies are the Notebook and Like Crazy, he’s a major softie) wants someone he can fall with and yeah, be a bit melodramatic with.

Someone warm, but slightly introverted, maybe even a little shy. Someone kind, open minded, and patient, but willing to stand up and speak their mind when they need to.

Someone who makes him feel needed(another Libra trait) Someone who can keep up with, or even match, his flirty nature.

Taehyung:

As an Aquarius Venus, he tends to be drawn towards people with unique, unconventional beauty/style. He wants someone who’s not afraid to go against the norm to be themselves(tho he would love it if you have similar love for vintage aesthetic like him)

Idk why, but he gives me “When Harry met Sally” vibes. Like, despite his fascination with romanticism as an aesthetic, I think he really prefers to go the friends to lovers route. He wants someone he feels comfortable with first and foremost. He falls slowly and then all at once.

I don’t think he has much preference on age, but he’d probably like someone his age or maybe slightly older.

I think he’d kinda be into the “mom friend” personality. I’ve said it before, he really likes being taken care of, even if it’s just in little ways like fixing his hair or buttoning his coat before he leaves in the morning.

Someone slightly more extroverted, who makes friends easily, likes kids and animals.

Someone sensitive and mature, but who he can still be goofy and random with, who’ll play along with his skits and tangents(like jimin does)

Jungkook:

Although he seems more drawn towards classic feminine style, I think he’d actually find someone with a similar style to his really attractive, even if it’s just in color palette. I don’t think he really has a type stylistically tho.

Despite Libra Venus’ tendency to look for partners that they have an immediate connection with, they actually prefer the ‘friends to lovers’ route, and I think that’s very accurate for him.

He’s kinda into the chase(literally the entire Seven video like👀), so he likes a partner that plays a little hard to get and teases/challenges him sometimes, but only sometimes.

I think he’d prefer someone his age, or maybe even a little older(He has a noona/hyung kink, I will die on this hill)

Like Joon, I think he’d really appreciate who’s into fitness/working out/boxing(lowkey, if you can hold your own wrestling with him, he’s got heart eyes)

Someone confident, independant, and artistic with a good sense of humor. Someone well mannered and patient(rudeness is an instant turnoff for him). Someone who can challenge him, but in a gentle, non-critical manner.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[sxcret-garden]

CAN YOU PLS DO A MOST LIKELY TO BE INTO DRY HUMPING HEHE

ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY YES ANON I LOVE DRY HUMPING DJBDJJXJX

Most

Mingi

Yeosang

San

Seonghwa

Jongho

Yunho

Hongjoong

Wooyoung

Least

Mingi the dry humping enthusiast!! For him, Yeo and San the activity is definitely something that'll satisfy them on its own, like they'll be more than happy to have you rut against them fully clothed (or the other way around) and get the both of you to finish just like that. Something about sitting in each other's lap, the fabric of your clothes still separating you and just going from a heavy makeout session over to chasing your highs like that is just so insanely hot to them??? I feel like Mingi especially would go crazy from the sight of you on top of him alone, even more so if you're wearing something he thinks you look sexy in (this can range from lingerie to one of his shirts btw, he thinks you're sexy in practically anything). For Yeosang the whole intensity of it stems from the fact that you're fully clothed and didn't even get to the point of taking clothes off cause you needed him so bad. San feels a lil less intensely about it, but still enjoys it as a standalone way to have sex every now and then, preferrably paired with some soft making out and hands up in his hair or fingertips exploring the other's shapes.

As for Seonghwa, I think he usually doesn't find it all that enticing, unless he's subbing. Then oh boy does he get off of this so fast??? Maybe a bit similar to Yeosang, he just finds it so hot that you're pleasuring yourself on him right then and there, without even undressing him first? And I guess in part the fact that it's restricting him from being inside you is also smth he enjoys, just being denied what he really wants, in instead having to be pliant for you as you chase your own high on top of him and wanting to be a good boy for you.

Jongho and Yunho feel very similarly about this, though I think Jongho still enjoys it a tad more than Yunho - they're not indifferent to dry humping, but it's really not more than a nice part of foreplay for them. They need more than that to get off (except maybe on the rare occasion that they're subbing, like imagine either of them cumming in their pants and what it'd do to them mentally??? 🫣 anywayyy), but won't stop you from grinding on their bulges a few times while you're making out. UNLESS!!! We're talking sleepy morning dry humping, Yunho certainly won't say no to that, and Jongho is sold. Get ready for little morning voice whines, especially from the latter, tho Yunho won't be completely quiet either, as you're riding them out of sleepiness and into both your highs.

Both Hongjoong and Wooyoung strike me as guys who are not exactly fans of dry humping. Sure, they'll be up for it if you're into it, but it's not something they'd spend a lot of time on otherwise. Maybe you can get Hongjoong to enjoy it when he's really exhausted and as you're having a soft makeout session with him one thing leads to another, but that too will be a rare case (IF it happens though, he'll let you hear the prettiest breathy moans-). As for Wooyoung... maybe when he's completely drunk on you already he'll enjoy watching you grind against him for longer periods of time, but I just don't think he has the patience for this cjnxxnnx (so if you wanna dry hump him, you gotta make him be good for you 👀)

[redroomreflections]

Not Easily Broken Chapter Eight

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

8/10

w/c:6.4k

Note: I hope y'all like this

It’s funny how you can be in the middle of something, and a completely random memory will strike. You’re at a red stop light, bobbing your head along to the low sounds of music, as you look into your rearview. Ryan is doing pretty much the same thing as he taps his fingers along the car door. He looks so much like Natasha when he smiles. She may not have carried him, but their similarities always amaze you. You think back to the time he was a tiny toddler, tapping his fingers along the car door much like he does now.

A small smile tugs at your lips as the memory warms your heart. Those early days were a whirlwind of sleepless nights and endless diaper changes, but they were also filled with moments like this—simple, yet profoundly beautiful. Ryan, with his curly hair and bright eyes, had always been a curious child, absorbing everything around him with an intensity that mirrored Natasha’s.

The light turns green, and you gently press the accelerator, your mind still lingering on the past. The familiar route to Emma’s dance school is lined with trees, their leaves swaying in the breeze. Ryan’s soft voice from the backseat pulls you back to the present. He’s telling you about his day at school yesterday, excitedly recounting a game he played with his friends. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself genuinely engaged in his story. 

“And I think another tooth is going to fall out if he’s not careful,” Ryan continues as he describes his time with Miles on the playground yesterday. 

“Oh yeah,” You say, reaching over to turn the radio down. “How’d he lose the other one?” 

Ryan grins, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “He was trying to show off on the monkey bars and slipped. It was pretty funny, but he’s okay.”

You whistle, shaking your head. “Boys will be boys, I guess. Just make sure you’re being careful too, okay?”

“I will, Mommy,” Ryan replies, giving you a reassuring smile.

"We still have a bit before Emma’s class is over," You say, checking the clock on the dashboard. There’s quite a bit of time left. "We could go to the bakery and grab some sweets. What do you say?"

"I like that idea," Ryan nods. "You always have good ideas."

"I don’t know about always," You shrug, "but I’m glad you think so highly of me." You quickly find a parking spot close to the shopping area. Emma’s dance school is only a few blocks away, just in case things let out early.

As you step out of the car, the warm aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries wafts through the air, making your mouth water. The bakery’s quaint storefront, with its colorful awning and display of delicious treats, invites you in. You help Ryan out of the car and he rushes to the door. 

"Let’s see what they have today," Ryan says, opening the door for you. 

“I’m raising such a gentleman,” You chuckle as he struggles to continue holding it open for you. 

Inside, the bakery is filled with customers, but it’s a cozy kind of busy. The display cases are filled with an assortment of cookies, cakes, and pastries. A friendly cashier greets you with a smile. 

"What looks good to you?" You ask Ryan, scanning the options.

"I’m thinking maybe a couple of those chocolate croissants," he says, pointing to the flaky, golden pastries. 

"Good choice," You agree. "And I think I’ll get a lemon tart. Emma loves those, so we can surprise her with one. What do you think Mama would like?” 

“Dark chocolate truffles,” Ryan insists, tapping at the display case. 

“Got it,” You nod. You place your order and wait while the cashier carefully boxes up your treats. As you leave the bakery, you notice a small park nearby with benches and flowering trees.

"Want to sit for a bit and enjoy these?" He suggests and he seems to be hopeful that you’ll say yes. You see his attempt at spending more time together for what it is. You won’t deny it. 

"Sure, sounds perfect," You reply. 

You find a shady spot under a tree and sit down, savoring the moment. Ryan sits next to you, practically curling into your body as you eat the treats. It had been a long time since you’d spent this much one-on-one time with him, and the realization tugged at your heart. Ryan’s small hand rested on your lap, his love for you evident in his need for physical touch. You figured now was as good a time as any to talk. 

“How have you been feeling, Ry,” You dust your hands-free of crumbs. “About me and Mama getting back together?” 

Ryan looks down at his lap, fidgeting with a stray thread on his shirt. 

“Hey, baby, you can tell me anything,” You assure him. You take his hand in yours. “Even if you think it will make me sad or upset. You never have to hide your feelings from me.” 

“I’m nervous,” He admits quietly, avoiding your gaze. “I want us all to be happy, but I just don’t want you to change your mind and break Mama’s heart again.”

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words to reassure him. “I understand, buddy. It’s a big change, and it’s okay to feel nervous. I promise you, I’m doing everything I can to make sure things work out this time.”

He looks up at you, his eyes wide and searching for reassurance. “But what if it doesn’t? What if something happens again?”

You gently squeeze his hand. “We’re all working hard to make things better. Your Mama and I are talking more, listening to each other, and trying to fix the things that went wrong before. It’s not going to be perfect overnight, but we’re committed to making it work.”

Ryan nods slowly, his grip on your hand tightening. “Okay. I just want us to be a family.”

“And we are a family, Ry, no matter what,” You say, pulling him into a comforting hug. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Ryan rests his head against your shoulder, his worries eased for the moment. 

“Can we talk more about why you’ve been so angry?” You ask, wanting to continue the conversation and give him the space he needs to express himself. “I know we’ve talked before about you hitting Mama. From my understanding that hasn’t happened again right?” 

“No, I promise,” Ryan shifts slightly, still leaning against you but with a furrowed brow. “I guess I just feel scared,” he says after a moment. “When you and Mama were fighting a lot, it was really hard. And when you left, it felt like everything was falling apart. Like my heart was breaking into a million tiny pieces every day. I was sad and I didn’t know what to do.”

You nod, listening intently. “That must have been tough for you, Ry. I’m sorry you had to go through that. I left you in the dark about a lot. I shouldn’t have been that way with you and your sister.”

“It’s just… I thought maybe things would never get better,” he continues, his voice small. “And I was so mad because I didn’t understand why you and Mama had to get a divorce. I didn’t know if you were coming back, or if Mama was okay. It was like I couldn’t do anything to help.”

Your heart aches to hear his pain. “I can see why you’d feel that way. It’s okay to be angry and scared, especially when things feel out of control. But I want you to know that none of what happened was your fault, and you don’t have to fix it all by yourself.”

Ryan looks up at you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and lingering worry. “I just want to believe that it’s going to be okay. That you and Mama won’t hurt each other anymore.”

You wrap your arm around him, holding him close. “We’re doing our best to make sure that doesn’t happen again. We’ve learned from our mistakes, and we’re working on being better for each other and for you and Emma. It’s going to take time, but we’re committed to making it work.”

Ryan takes a deep breath, seeming to absorb your words. “Okay,” he says softly. “I believe you. I just needed to hear it.”

“I’m glad we talked about this,” You say, kissing the top of his head. “You can always tell me how you’re feeling, no matter what. We’re in this together.”

Ryan nods, a small smile forming on his lips. “Thanks, I love you.”

“I love you too, Ry,” You reply, feeling a sense of calm wash over you both. “Now, how about we finish these treats and then head to pick up Emma?”

Ryan nods enthusiastically, the heaviness of the conversation lifting as he reaches for another chocolate croissant. 

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

Seeing the smile on Emma’s face when she spots you standing near the entrance of her dance class is priceless. She looks so sophisticated and grown up as she prances over to you in her tutu. You catch her in your arms, offering her a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Mommy, are we going home?” Emma asks, and you nod.

“Of course, baby. I’m going to spend some time with you, Ryan, and Mama before we go back to my apartment tonight,” You inform her.

“Does it have to be just you and Mama?” Emma pouts as you carry her over to her dance bag. You set her gently on her feet, gathering her stuff, as she doesn’t offer to help.

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain. “Emma, Mama and I are trying to fix things between us. We love you and Ryan so much, and we want to make sure we’re doing the best we can for our family. Sometimes that means we need to talk and spend time together, just the two of us, to figure things out.”

Emma’s pout deepens, and she looks down at her feet. “But I don’t want you to go back to your apartment. I want us all to be together and have a sleepover.”

Your heart aches at her words, understanding her desire for you to be home. “I know, sweetie,” you say softly, kneeling to her level. “I want that too, more than anything. But for now, Mama and I have to take things slowly to make sure we’re doing everything right.”

Emma’s eyes fill with unshed tears as she looks up at you. “But why can’t we just be together?”

You gently brush a strand of hair away from her face. “It’s because Mama and I need to talk and work on some things. We love you and Ryan so much, and we want to make sure we’re the best parents we can be. Sometimes that means spending some time apart to figure things out.”

Emma sniffles, her lip trembling. “I just miss you, Mommy.”

You pull her into a comforting hug. “I miss you too, baby. And I promise, we’re doing everything we can to be together as a family again. How about this: we’ll have a special sleepover at Mama’s house this weekend, all of us together. Would you like that?”

Emma pulls back slightly, her eyes brightening a bit. “Really? A special sleepover?”

“Really,” You affirm, smiling. “We can watch movies, eat popcorn, and even have a bonfire or something. What do you think?”

She nods eagerly, a small smile breaking through. “Okay, that sounds fun.”

“Great,” You say, standing up and taking her hand. You stand to see another parent eyeing you from a few feet away. You connect eyes with her and offer her an awkward smile. 

“Hi, you’re Emma’s other mom, right?” She asks.

“Yes, that’s right,” You respond, trying to maintain a friendly demeanor. “I’m Emma’s Mommy. Nice to meet you.”

The woman smiles, her curiosity evident. “I’ve seen Emma with her other mom a few times. I’m Claire, by the way. My daughter, Lily, is in the same class.”

“Nice to meet you, Claire,” You say, shaking her hand. “I think I’ve heard Emma talk about Lily a few times. They seem to be great friends.” 

Claire nods, glancing at Emma, who’s now talking with Lily nearby. “They are. It’s nice to see them so happy. It’s great to see you around here.”

“Thank you, it’s great to be back,” You say before bidding her a good day. You know she had more questions than other parents usually did, and you didn’t mind answering just not right now. With the divorce, you had unfortunately distanced yourself from the children's activities. You hadn’t been present in their everyday lives, and the impact was evident. You almost wonder why Natasha didn’t push for full custody—she likely would have had a strong case.

Natasha, understandably, took on more responsibilities and became the primary caregiver during that time. She was actively involved in their school events, extracurricular activities, and day-to-day upbringing. 

Reflecting on it now, you realize that your absence might have painted a picture of disengagement.  It wasn’t intentional neglect; rather, the overwhelming emotions and challenges of the divorce had pulled your focus away from what mattered most—being there for Emma and Ryan.

“Alright kiddos, let’s go,” You lead them out of the studio with much to think about. 

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

“Mama, we got you dark chocolate truffles!” Emma exclaimed, offering the box to the redhead as she stepped through the front door of the house. Natasha gently put down her laundry bag, ready to catch Emma, who seemed very fond of running into her parents' arms.

“Did you now?” Natasha responded with a smile, scooping Emma up into a warm hug. “Thank you, sweetie.”

“Yeah, she ate a few on the way here,” You mutter with a headshake, a hint of amusement in your voice.

Natasha laughs softly, glancing at you. “Well, I can’t blame her. These are my favorite. How did you know?” she asked Emma, giving her another squeeze.

“Mommy said they were,” Emma replied, beaming with pride.

Natasha’s gaze softened as she looked at you. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “It means a lot.”

You nod, feeling a bit more at ease. “We thought it would be a nice surprise. Plus, it was all really Ryan’s idea.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. “Oh, was it now? Ryan’s got good taste.”

“Yeah, he’s quite the planner,” You say with a chuckle, glancing over at Ryan, who is now watching Emma with a pleased expression.

Ryan, overhearing the conversation, walks over and stands next to you, looking a bit bashful but proud. “I just wanted to make Mama happy,” he says softly.

Natasha kneels down to Ryan’s level, pulling him into a gentle hug. “You always make me happy, Ry. Thank you for thinking of me.”

Ryan beams, his earlier nervousness fading away. “You’re welcome, Mama. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Natasha replies, kissing him on the forehead before standing back up. “I have lunch ready for us today. I always know Printsessa is extremely hungry after dance.”

“I am,” Emma says, rubbing her tummy. “But first, can I show Mommy my room?”

“I’ve seen your room before, Emma,” You join in the conversation with a raised eyebrow. “Is there something new in there?”

Emma nods eagerly, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Yes! Mama and I decorated it differently, and I got some new stuffies. Come see!”

You glance at Natasha, who nods encouragingly. “Go ahead. I’ll finish setting up lunch.”

“I can help you,” Ryan volunteers. 

“Alright, lead the way,” You say to Emma, who grabs your hand and starts pulling you toward her room.

As you walk up the stairs to her bedroom, Emma chatters excitedly about the changes. “We got new fairy lights and a big rainbow pillow! And Mama put up a shelf for all my books.”

Entering Emma’s room, you immediately notice the transformation. The fairy lights cast a soft glow, and a colorful rainbow pillow sits proudly on her bed. The new shelf is neatly organized with her favorite books and toys.

“What do you think, Mommy?” Emma asks, looking up at you with anticipation.

“It’s beautiful, Emma,” You say, genuinely impressed. “You and Mama did a great job. It looks so cozy and fun.”

Emma beams with pride. “Thanks! I love it so much. And look, here are my new stuffies!” She runs over to her bed, picking up a few plush animals to show you. “This is Eloise, and Gertrude, and Penelope.”

“Whoa, where did you get these names?” You ask, raising an eyebrow in amusement. They truly sound like elderly-sounding names. Not that you would tell her that. 

Emma giggles, holding up Eloise, a fluffy bunny. “Mama helped me pick them. We wanted names that sounded fancy.”

“They’re fancy,” You say with a smile, taking one of the stuffed animals from her. “And they’re all very cute.”

Emma nods enthusiastically. “I like to pretend they’re having tea parties and going on adventures together. They’re my best friends.”

 “That sounds like a lot of fun. Maybe we can have a tea party with them sometime.”

“Yes, please!” Emma says, clapping her hands together. “You can be the guest of honor, Mommy.”

“It’s a date,” You agree, hugging her. “But for now, we should head to the kitchen before lunch gets cold.”

“Okay!” Emma replies, bounding toward the door with one of her new stuffies in hand.

You follow her back to the kitchen, feeling a warm glow from the simple yet meaningful moments you’re sharing. Natasha has set the table with grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. One of Emma’s favorites. 

“This looks good, babe,” You compliment without really thinking. You take a seat closer to her chair.

Natasha's eyes flicker with a hint of surprise, followed by a soft smile. “Thanks,” she says, a touch of warmth in her voice. “I’m glad you’re here to enjoy it with us.”

Emma, oblivious to the brief exchange, eagerly reaches for a sandwich. “Mama makes the best lunches!” she declares proudly.

Ryan nods in agreement, already munching on a piece of fruit. “Yeah, this is great, Mama.”

You settle into your seat, feeling a mix of nostalgia and hope. “It really does look amazing. Thanks for making lunch, Natasha.”

Natasha smiles, her eyes meeting yours. “You’re welcome. It’s nice to have everyone together.”

As you start eating, the conversation flows easily. Emma and Ryan share stories from their day, and you and Natasha listen attentively, adding your comments and questions. 

“So, Emma showed me her room,” You say, glancing at Natasha. “You both did a fantastic job decorating it.”

Natasha’s face lights up with pride. “Thanks. We had a lot of fun doing it together, didn’t we, Emma?”

Emma nods vigorously. “Yeah! And Mommy said we can have a tea party with my stuffies sometime.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Natasha agrees, giving Emma a fond look. “We should plan it soon.”

After lunch, as you help clear the table, Natasha catches your eye. “Thanks for the compliment earlier,” she says quietly, a genuine smile on her face.

“Of course,” you reply, returning the smile. “I meant it. It’s really good to be here with you all.”

Natasha nods, and for a moment, there’s an understanding between you—a shared acknowledgment of the effort you’re both putting in to rebuild your family. 

“I was thinking we could head over to your apartment at five?” Natasha mentions. “I have a babysitter coming over. Yelena is still kind of on the fritz so I didn’t dare ask her.”

“Sounds good,” you nod in agreement. “Is she still ignoring your calls? I didn’t know us getting back together would cause so much grief with your sister.”

Natasha sighs, a hint of frustration crossing her face. “Yeah, she’s still not picking up. Yelena’s protective. She saw what the divorce did to all of us, especially the kids, and she’s worried about me getting hurt again.”

You nod thoughtfully. “I get that. I didn’t realize she was taking it so hard. I thought she’d be happy we’re trying to work things out.”

“She’s just cautious,” Natasha explains. “She wants to make sure we’re not rushing into anything and that the kids don’t get caught in the middle again.”

“I understand,” You say, feeling a pang of guilt. “I’ll reach out to her too. Maybe if she hears from both of us, it’ll help.”

Natasha gives you a small smile. “That might be a good idea. She just needs some time.”

As the conversation shifts, you both start preparing for the evening. Natasha ensures the house is ready for the babysitter, while you spend time with Emma and Ryan, making sure they feel comfortable with the plans for the night.

At five, the babysitter arrives—a friendly woman named Sarah, who immediately puts the kids at ease with her warm smile and easygoing demeanor. She doesn’t need an introduction to the kids' routines as Natasha’s used her services before. 

“We’ll be back soon,” Natasha tells the kids, giving each of them a hug. “Be good for Sarah, okay?”

“We will,” Emma and Ryan promise in unison.

As you and Natasha step out of the house and head to your car, you can’t help but feel a mix of anticipation and nervousness. The evening ahead holds the promise of important conversations and the possibility of taking more steps toward healing and rebuilding your relationship.

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

The drive to your apartment is filled with a comfortable silence, both of you lost in thought. Once you arrive, you take a deep breath and turn to Natasha. “Ready?”

She nods, giving you a reassuring smile. “Ready. What are you so nervous about?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly prepare for you to come,” You shrug. “I mean, it’s not like it’s dirty or anything. It’s just really bare bones and bachelor-y.”

Natasha chuckles softly. “I’m sure it’s fine. You always were a minimalist.”

You lead her inside, feeling a bit self-conscious about the simplicity of your apartment compared to the cozy warmth of your old home. This place has never felt like you belonged in it. It feels too much like how you’ve felt inside. Lonely. As you step into the living room, Natasha glances around with interest. It is an open living area with polished hardwood floors and large windows offering city views and tons of natural light. There’s a plush sectional sofa and a sleek coffee table in the center of the room. 

The dining area nearby features a stylish table set under a minimalist chandelier, adding a touch of elegance. The kitchen, equipped with high-end appliances and marble countertops, exudes functionality but lacks personal touches.

The bedrooms are spacious and well-furnished, with the master bedroom featuring a king-sized bed and simple, crisp sheets. The overall vibe is one of luxury and comfort, although the space feels more curated than lived-in, with minimal personal decor.

“It’s nice,” she comments, walking over to look out the window living room window. “Very you.”

You chuckle nervously, hoping she doesn’t find the lack of decorations or homey touches too off-putting. “I know it’s not as homey as your place.”

Natasha turns to face you, her expression gentle. “It doesn’t have to be. This is your space.”

You relax a little, grateful for her understanding. “Thanks. Let me just get us something to drink.”

While you busy yourself in the kitchen, Natasha wanders around the living room, examining a few books on the shelf and the simple decor. When you return with drinks, she’s sitting comfortably on the couch, looking at a framed photo of you and the kids.

“I’m glad we’re doing this,” she says softly, setting down her glass.

“Me too,” you admit, sitting beside her. “I’ve missed having you here.”

Natasha meets your gaze, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. “I’ve missed being here.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. Despite the nerves and the uncertainties, being together like this feels right. It’s a small step, but an important one, towards reconnecting and rebuilding what was lost.

“What’s this?” Natasha spots the photograph on the table tucked under a bunch of notebooks and your laptop. It’s an intimate photo of the two of you on your honeymoon. You’re holding Natasha in your arms, her back turned away from the camera, kissing your cheek. Both of you look incredibly happy. 

“I’ve been looking for this photo. You’ve had it all this time,” Natasha says, her voice filled with surprise and a hint of nostalgia.

You smile softly, picking up the photo and holding it between your fingers. “Yeah, I kept a lot of our photos.”

Natasha studies the image, a mixture of emotions crossing her face. “I remember this day,” she says quietly. “We were so young.”

“Seems like a lifetime ago,” You reply, memories flooding back as you gaze at the picture together.

Natasha nods, setting the photo down gently. “Thank you for keeping these.”

“They’re memories I couldn’t bear to part with,” You admit, your voice softening with emotion. “Even during the tough times, they reminded me of the good.”

Natasha reaches out, placing her hand over yours. “I’m glad you kept them,” she says sincerely.

“Come here,” You say softly, pulling her closer to you on the couch. The evening had started feeling more like a cordial business meeting than a date with your ex-wife.

Natasha moves closer, resting her head against your shoulder. The feel of the room shifts as you both sit quietly, the weight of unspoken words and shared memories hanging in the air. Despite the initial nerves and uncertainty, being close like this feels natural, comforting even.

“You know,” Natasha starts, her voice gentle, “I’ve missed this.”

“Me too,” You admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve missed us.”

Natasha nods, her fingers intertwining with yours. “So, what do you do in here all day? Read books? I can guarantee you haven’t opened any of those on that shelf.”

“I have read some,” you cringe, feeling a pang of guilt.

You hesitate, not wanting to admit that you've mostly been occupied with work and the gym. The truth is, you often didn't spend much time in this apartment to avoid feeling lonely.

Natasha squeezes your hand gently, sensing your discomfort. “It’s okay, you know,” she says softly. “You were doing what you needed to do.”

You sigh, grateful for her understanding. “I just didn’t want to be alone here.”

“I understand,” Natasha replies, her voice warm with empathy. “But you’re not alone anymore.”

“You know, I keep telling myself that I…” you begin, your voice trailing off. “I kind of isolated myself from everything and everyone. No one told me divorce would be so hard. I mean, I knew, but…”

Natasha listens, her eyes soft with understanding. “But living through it is something else entirely,” she finishes for you.

“Exactly,” You sigh, feeling the weight of the past few months settle heavily. “I threw myself into work and the gym, anything to keep from being alone in this place. It was too quiet, too empty.”

Natasha squeezes your hand gently. “I get it. It’s hard to face that kind of loneliness.”

“I didn’t want to admit it,” You continue. “But being without you and the kids… it’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

Natasha nods, her eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and regret. “I felt it too. It’s why I pushed so hard for us to try again. I believe we can do this.”

“I believe it too,” you say softly, kissing her head. “What do you say we try out this cooking thing? I had all of the groceries delivered this morning. You had a pretty extensive list.”

Natasha laughs lightly, the sound bringing warmth to the room. “I do tend to go all out with my lists. What’s on the menu?”

You stand up, offering her a hand. “Let’s find out. I didn’t peek too much, so it’ll be a surprise for both of us.”

Natasha takes your hand, and you both head to the kitchen. You open the fridge to take out all of the ingredients you have. 

“Okay,” she says, rolling up her sleeves. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

You start unpacking the bags together, revealing fresh vegetables, herbs, various spices, and a selection of meats. It’s a well-thought-out collection. 

“Looks like we’re making a feast,” you comment, holding up a bunch of fresh basil. “What should we start with?”

Natasha glances over the ingredients, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “How about a nice stroganoff dish? We can make a salad to go with it.”

“Sounds perfect,” you agree, feeling a sense of anticipation. Cooking together feels like a new step in rekindling your relationship, it’s one of the things you used to delight in doing together. 

As you chop vegetables and prepare the meal, the kitchen fills with the delicious smell of fresh ingredients and simmering sauce. The act of cooking together, sharing tasks, and the laughter, brings a sense of normalcy and joy.

It feels intimate and cozy as you navigate the kitchen together. Natasha’s subtle touches against your skin make you feel even more worthy of her being here. Each brush of her hand, every shared glance, adds to the warmth of the evening.

“Hand me the mushrooms?” Natasha asks, her fingers lightly grazing yours as she takes the bowl.

“Sure thing,” You reply, enjoying the simple task of cooking side by side. The smell of the beef stroganoff simmering on the stove and the roasted beets wafting from the oven fills the room. 

As you roll out the pie crust for an apple pie, Natasha leans over your shoulder, her breath warm against your ear. “You’re really good at this, you know.”

“Thanks,” You say, smiling. “It’s nice to have someone to cook for.”

When everything is ready, you set the table together, this is the first time in weeks you’ve actually sat at this dining table. 

“This is amazing,” Natasha says, savoring a forkful of the beef. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Only because I had the best partner,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you.

“We do make a great team,” Natasha agrees, sipping from her wine glass. The comfortable silence that follows is filled with the soft clinking of silverware and the faint noises of the city outside. 

You take a moment to appreciate the moment before deciding to dive deeper into conversation. “So, what have you been up to at work lately?” you ask, genuinely curious.

Natasha sets her glass down, her expression is thoughtful. “Work’s been busy, as always. We’ve had a few high-profile cases come in. It’s been challenging, but I enjoy it. Keeps me on my toes.”

“That sounds intense,” You say, nodding. “But you’ve always thrived in that environment. I’m on sabbatical, as you know, so it’s a bit different for me.”

“How are you handling that?” Natasha asks. 

“It’s been an adjustment,” You admit. “I’m not used to having so much free time. I’ve been trying to stay busy, hitting the gym a lot. Visiting my parents. Tony’s been surprisingly understanding about it, though. He knows I needed the break.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Natasha takes another bite of her meal. Her smile fades slightly as she looks down at her plate. She hesitates before speaking again. “Can I ask you something that’s been on my mind?”

“Of course,” You say, your heart rate quickening slightly at her serious tone.

“Have you… seen anyone else during our time apart?” She asks, her voice soft but steady.

You take a deep breath, appreciating her honesty. “No, I haven’t,” you say, meeting her gaze. “I couldn’t even think about it. I’ve been too focused on everything else, and honestly, I wasn’t ready.”

Natasha looks relieved, her shoulders relaxing. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ve been worried about it.”

“I understand,” You say, squeezing her hand gently. “It’s natural to wonder. What about you?”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I couldn’t either. I just… needed time to process everything.”

You both fall silent for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling in. But there’s a sense of relief too, knowing that despite the time apart, neither of you sought comfort elsewhere.

“Thank you for being honest,” you say, breaking the silence. “It means a lot to me.”

“Thank you too,” Natasha replies, her eyes softening. “I’m really glad we’re talking about this.”

“I know we’ve talked a little bit here and there but,” You wipe your mouth with a napkin. “I never stopped loving you. I just..I was confused. We were hurting each other. I needed it to stop. It had gone on for so long and-

Natasha reaches out, her hand covering yours. “I understand,” she says softly. “It was hard for both of us. We were caught in a cycle of pain and neither of us knew how to break free.”

You nod, feeling a lump in your throat. “Exactly. I thought maybe some distance would help, give us both a chance to breathe and figure things out. But it didn’t change how I felt about you. It never could.”

Natasha’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I never stopped loving you either. Even when things were at their worst, a part of me always held on to the hope that we could find our way back to each other.”

You squeeze her hand, drawing strength from her words. “I’m glad we’re trying again. I want to make things right, to be better for you, for our family.”

She nods, her thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “We’ll take it one day at a time. We’ve both changed, and that’s okay. We just need to be patient with each other and ourselves.”

You take a deep breath, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “Agreed. And for what it’s worth, I think we’re off to a good start.”

Natasha smiles a genuine, warm smile that reaches her eyes. “I think so too.”

As you clear the dishes together, the comfortable silence between you feels reassuring. There’s no rush, no pressure, just the quiet understanding that you’re both committed to making this work. It’s a start, and for now, that’s enough.

“I don’t want you to go home just yet…” you mention as you both sit against the couch, much in the same position as earlier.

Natasha looks at you, her expression softening. “I don’t want to go home yet either,” she admits. “It feels good to be here with you.”

"Stay a little longer.” 

Natasha smiles, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I’d like that.”

 The only thing is, with you and Natasha, things never remain simple or quiet for that matter. You turn your head slightly, meeting her eyes, and in that moment, the unspoken words between you become clear.

Before you can overthink it, you lean in, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Natasha responds immediately, her hand moving to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. It’s a kiss filled with longing, love, and a promise of a renewed connection.

When you finally pull back, both of you are breathless. Natasha rests her forehead against yours, her eyes closed. “I want you,” she whispers.

“I want you too,” You reply, your voice equally soft. Your lips meet in another kiss that has Natasha moaning into your mouth. The heat between you is tangible as if it could be felt despite the slight chill in the room. Natasha’s hands trail down your body, tracing the skin under your shirt, as you nibble her bottom lip. You lean back against the pillows of the couch. 

Your fingers brush against the soft skin of her neck, causing her to shiver with pleasure. She makes a move to lift your shirt over your head and you waste no time throwing it on the opposite side of the room. She uses her nimble fingers to release your breasts from their confines revealing your bare chest. You look into her darkened eyes, finding lust and desire coursing through them. 

You lift your head further, your hands finding her waist, as she leans into your touch. You kiss her again, her lips parting slightly as your tongue slips into her mouth. Your bodies fit together perfectly as if they were made for each other. 

“Bedroom?” Natasha suggests as your kisses lead further down her neck. You offer a gentle bite against her clavicle, delighting in the hiss you receive from her. “Y/n?” She presses gently against your shoulder when she doesn’t receive an answer. 

“Yes, right,” You place one last kiss against her neck before she stands. 

Natasha takes your hand, leading you towards the bedroom. The room is dimly lit, with just enough light from outside to create a warm, intimate atmosphere. Your bed is scattered with pillows and blankets, inviting you both to fall into it and lose yourselves in each other's arms.

As you step inside the room, Natasha turns to face you. Her green eyes are shining with excitement, and she bites her lower lip lightly.

“Where do you want me?” She asks. 

“On the bed,” You gesture.

“Here?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. She sits patiently, her legs slightly spread, as you unbutton and push your jeans down your body. You step between her legs, your hips swinging provocatively as you come closer. 

Natasha reaches up, her fingers brushing against your cheek as she leans in to kiss you. The kiss is slow and sensual, igniting a fire in your core. As she deepens the kiss, her hands wander down your body.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” You murmur. “Wanted you.”  

“You have me,” Natasha responds. You gently press against her chest, pushing her down against the bed. She rests against her elbows, watching as you unbutton her pants, and slide them down her legs. The smell of her arousal hits you and you close your eyes as you rest your nose against her pelvis. 

“You smell so good, baby,” You land several kisses against her mound before kissing a trail up to her lips. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Natasha says bluntly. “We can do slow and gentle later. Right now I need you to fuck me.” She practically begs as her chest heaves. 

[wukyma]

I'm very curious about your Posepoli AU if you are OK with sharing facts about it ? Maybe what you have in mind? Or what Poseidon have in mind withvhis proposition 🤔 I can't only imagine the crew reaction

Also I'm in absolute love with your art ! The way you color? Your Odysseus ? Incredible. Make me think about fairy tales book illustrations you know ? And don't let go on your design of Poseidon ? He look so cold and distanced, it's actually genius!

Oh, thank you so much 💖 It means a lot! I loved illustrated fairytales as a kid and had a similar book of Greek myths, so that's probably where the style comes from, hehe

As for the AU... I lied shamelessly in the other post and speedran through coloring the panels and imma show y'all everything today!

If you haven't seen the previous one go check it out first

SO, Polites lives. But now he has to cope with the consequences of their recklessness,,

⬇️⬇️⬇️ cut because yapping again

The wind bag gets opened, and they're faced with Poseidon seeking revenge,,

Odysseus' apology isn't accepted (who even apologizes like that??), but Poseidon doesn't get to strike him —

Polites steps in and asks for them to be spared.

The god almost laughs in his face because that's an utterly ridiculous attempt, but decides that there's no harm in amusing himself a bit. Yet, no matter what Poseidon thinks about the man and how much he despises his ideals,, Polites is very different from most mortals he met, with his unshakeable belief in a better world (that realization happens much later in the plot, at the moment he's just pissed off)

So, yeah. Poseidon gives them a challenge: if they find another way around the storm, continue their journey without harming or killing (as per Poli's ideology), and get home, he will spare everyone, even Odysseus. The one who's formally "responsible" for holding up their end of the deal is still Polites, and he gets a kind of seal/tattoo as proof that neither side will go against the terms (yay ✨️aesthetics ✨️)

Forgot to mention: the whole crew is alive — 600 men making their way to Ithaca!

Next stop would be Circe's island,,, guess who will become besties? Ehehwhe

Things I believe are important to mention:

Poseidon REALLY doesn't like Polites in this AU (well,, for now) and wants to see him fail, then drown the fleet and be done with it

His main motivation here wouldn't be to avenge Polyphemus, but to prove that Polites is wrong (same as with Odysseus, but more intense)

Get ready for tons of mockery in the next part ( ；∀；)

I headcanon (not just in this AU but in general) that Polites, Perimedes, and Elpenor are also very close friends!

Odysseus is oblivious about Poli's feelings towards him (dude is mole-blind when it comes to that), but Eurylochus knows

Umm, so that's it for now! See y'all next time, because telling things without throwing pictures in seems meh... However, that's up to you, too. I can continue as it is and draw the scenes you'd like to see and/or choose later :3 Just write how u think would be more okayish i guess??

Bonus thing: congrats on reading till the end lol. there is one inconsistency in the comic above. at the sketch stage I flipped 3 of these panels, and they don't match with the other ones (seen in the details) first one to guess (say the nr order, idc) gets to request ANYTHING epic‐related from me :D

[moondance-r-writes]

SAGAU-adjacent not-Creator Creator 4

Summary: You knew, viscerally down to your bones, that you did not create this world; Teyvat had no grand creator, no single hand designing its wonders. It did, however, have something of a catalytic agent, without which it would not exist.

You.

[Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]

You separated from Diluc that morning. Despite Alatus -- Xiao -- offering to teleport you straight to Liyue Harbor, you preferred to take your time. It had been untold millennia, after all, since you had experienced a world’s bounties for yourself, and even longer since you had a physical body to do it with. You wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

Walking through Guili Planes was... an experience. The crumbling ruins were of a different style from the civilisation you saw upon your arrival, but it was a grim reminder that Liyue, like Mondstadt, had not been wholly peaceful during its existence. Unfortunately, you had the feeling that the rest of Teyvat was similar.

Xiao was ever present by your side. He would occasionally divert you from your path, which you assumed was to avoid monsters, though it wasn’t necessary. You allowed it for several reasons: one, the poor guy was stressed enough; two, he didn’t know of the affection Teyvat’s creatures held for you; and three, you did come across corpses, meaning someone was in the area killing them.

For your part you were wholly unworried -- slimes had already proven their refusal to harm you and you expected other creatures born of Teyvat to be the same. It was humans, and creatures born of humans, that you were concerned by.

(To your slight surprise, this included hilichurls. Despite being classified as monsters by Teyvat at large, they were too human, too sapient, to be overwhelmed by Teyvat’s love for you.)

It wasn’t a shock for you to eventually come upon the one slaughtering all the monsters in the area. What was a surprise was that it was all done by a single person.

You watched a ginger-haired young man wielding blades of Hydro rip his way through a hilichurl camp. He was a storm in motion, striking then dancing away from retaliation, every step trailed by an eye-catching red scarf. Beneath you, Geo rumbled, Ajax Tartaglia, child of the devouring deep, Hydro, more Abyss than human.

Xiao tensed.

As soon as the last hilichurl fell, the man pivoted to face you with a relaxed stance, one hand still absently spinning a Hydro blade. “You know, if you wanted a show, I’d be plenty happy to show you up close and personal,” he leered with a pointed swing of his blade.

“Impertinent,” Xiao hissed, looking like he was one taunt away from lunging. The man only laughed.

You looked between the two of them. There was bad blood there, you could tell. ...How interesting. “Who is he, Xiao?”

Surprisingly, the adeptus was able to tense even more. Slowly, flatly, he replied, “He is the Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers, and dangerous.” Unsaid was his intense desire to take you elsewhere or drive him away.

Instead of acknowledging that, you turned to the Eleventh Harbinger. “That’s not a name,” you observed.

“Tartaglia at your service -- but please, call me Childe.”

He certainly suited the name. Pretty, boyish, young; there was a madness in him too, one that was incompatible with the Teyvat around you but might not be out of place in the depths where you slumbered. Maybe, if he was amenable to a trip home, you might have a companion on your journey to the world’s roots. “A pleasure to meet you. I am--”

“The sun is setting,” Xiao interrupted. It was such a change from his previous deference that you just blinked at him for several seconds.

“...That’s true,” you said slowly when he didn’t continue, “are we close enough to Liyue Harbor to get there tonight?”

“Oh definitely not,” Childe said, now strolling closer while completely ignoring Xiao’s darkening expression. You were sure that the only thing stopping Xiao from violently removing Childe was your presence. “So why don’t we share a campfire for the night? I make a mean seafood soup!”

You didn’t know how you ended up sitting by a fire with two men glaring daggers at each other. Or rather, Xiao glared daggers while Childe responded with goading smirks.

Dinner had been as delicious as promised, though it looked more like a scene of carnage than you had expected. It held only the basest of resemblances with the Calla Lily Seafood Soup you remembered from Mondstadt. Xiao, for some reason, did not receive a portion.

Childe’s actions did make you curious. Mondstadt’s people had greeted you with a festival and Xiao with deep respect, which had made you suspect that everyone on Teyvat could recognise you as their supposed ‘Creator’ on sight, but Childe hadn’t. Either he was the only person in the world who didn’t buy into the cult, or there was something else going on.

...On reflection, the people without Visions whom you met during your first day in Liyue didn’t treat you as anyone particularly special either, while those with Visions tended to be friendlier. As evidenced by Childe. Mondstadt didn’t count, you had been presented to them as the Creator from the start.

You were presented as the Creator, that was the key. They probably didn’t possess a mythical Creator radar. Fortunately.

But someone had to have sensed you, otherwise you would never have left the island you woke on. As a dragon, Dvalin wasn’t a surprise, and Venti... the Archons. Of course. Didn’t you note the traces of your power in Venti and the statues of him and Morax yourself? There were sparks of it in the Visions too, but nothing as strong as those in the Archons and Statues of Seven.

If the Statues held enough of your power for you to resonate with them, and the Archons were connected to the statues made in their image, everything could be explained. The only mystery was why Morax didn’t show up in person.

He couldn’t be dead, because Liyue still stood. He couldn’t not know of you, because he sent Xiao. And if he was busy directing preparations for your celebratory feast, as Xiao had implied, then that showed a gross miscalculation of priorities uncharacteristic for someone who had ruled this nation for nigh on 4000 local solar orbits. You weren’t offended -- there was no such thing as a Creator in the first place -- but you were quite curious.

The next day, your group expanded from two to three. Childe insisted on tagging along, to Xiao’s consternation, and couldn’t be chased away. They got along like cats and dogs and it was entertaining to watch.

The bickering lasted all the way until you reached the hill overlooking the bridge leading into Liyue Harbor. Every building was bedecked with lanterns and banners as far as the eye could see, just as festive as Mondstadt yet with their own distinct style. You stopped in your tracks.

Childe shrugged. “They got this done in the last few days, not sure what it’s for. There’s still a few months until the Lantern Rite.”

You did not want to walk through the streets to be gawked at, whether that be due to your own identity or those of your companions. You turned to the adeptus among you. “Xiao, can you bring us straight to the venue?” you requested.

He nodded and held out his hand, but only after you looked pointedly at Childe did he reluctantly grip the Harbinger’s arm as well. You would take what you could get.

“Hey, wait--”

Before Childe could voice the rest of his objection, you took Xiao’s hand and the three of you disappeared on the spot.

You rematerialised in an octagonal plaza facing a large building, which a plaque informed you was Yiyan Temple. Behind you, Childe stumbled, to Xiao’s audible ridicule; you knew without looking that Childe must have gestured something rude in return.

Two people in armoured uniforms saluted and opened the doors. You could sense significant amounts of Geo pulsating out from something within, as well as sparks of your power emanating from Visions among the crowd that glittered like stars to your senses. There was also a torch’s worth of your power -- an Archon. Morax. Though you hardly registered their appearances, luxurious as their clothes were, as Geo clamoured to introduce these personages to you.

Morax, earth dragon, Geo Archon, adeptus, a void where there was once god-heart-gnosis.

Ningguang, human, Geo, born of Liyue.

Cloud Retainer, crane, Anemo, adeptus, bound to the Lord of Geo.

Keqing, human, Electro, born of Liyue.

There were more, and you filed each of them away even as Morax and Ningguang bowed simultaneously, followed shortly by everyone else. “Your Grace the Primordial Architect,” Morax said in his deep voice, “this one is honoured to welcome thine self to the land of Geo.”

“Your Grace?” Childe repeated, quietly but with feeling.

Right, you had never actually introduced yourself to him because Xiao had interrupted. Withholding a sigh, you ordered some Anemo to whisper in his ear, “In short, I’m not the Creator, there is no Creator, I’ll explain later.” Then you turned your attention to the Archon. “Please, rise,” you said to all of them. This reception was getting a little more intense than Mondstadt's.

[Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]

Taglist: @fantasyhopperhea // @silverstar56 // @lexal-amber-rose // @noblessejjk // @neo-meta // @etherisy // @strangeygirl

[giggly-squiggily]

I SO Let You Win! (Windbreaker)

*kicks door in* BANG! WINDBREAKER! :D I wrote this for the amazing @intheticklecloset, and now I get to share it with y'all! :D I hope y'all like it! :D

Summary: Sakura attempts to tickle Suo. It goes exactly how you'd think.

Like breaking the thin layer of ice covering a river, the first strike was all Sakura needed.

“Boink.” His fingers were fast and swift, scribbling into Suo’s neck and ears with little warning- making the eyepatched teen jerk and shudder. “Gotcha now, sucker!”

“Gehehehe! Oh you stop that!” Suo twisted around, grabbing onto Sakura’s wrist faster than expected. “You find one tickle spot on me and that’s all you ever go for! Where’s your creativity?”

“Blah- I’m totally creative! I just prefer to go for the easiest route.” Sakura tugged at Suo’s grip, but it was unflinchingly strong. “Besides, it’s the one spot I know that makes you giggle like a toddler!”

Suo’s devious smile intensified, sending shivers down the heterochromatic teen’s spine. Maybe the toddler comparison was too much. “Hey, let me go. You’re hurting me.”

“As if. I’ve seen you fight Sakura- your pain tolerance is not this low.” Suo’s grip did loosen despite his words, yet still held on. Sakura wasn’t going anywhere.

“Fine- let me go then! What the hell am I gonna do if my wrist goes limp?”

“It’d make a fun weapon to smack someone.”

“What are you- whoa!” When did Suo get so close? His face was heating up, much to his embarrassment. Between the hand placement and the fact he blushed so easily, people were gonna get the wrong idea. “Back up, I’m not looking for a boyfriend!”

“I’m not offering- but I am looking for revenge.” Suo’s scary gentleman face came out, sealing Sakura’s fate. “Care to volunteer?”

“Get back you son of a- Gehahahhahaha! N-Nohoohohoho!” Sakura tried twisting to run, but Suo was quick. In a flash, he had Sakura flat on his face in the ground below, sitting on his butt as he dragged his fingers ever so slowly down his sides. “Nohohoo fhahahair! Yohohou chahahan’t uhuhuhuse fihihihighting mohohohves!”

“What? Sorry, I can’t hear you over your adorable giggle fits.” Suo cooed down at him, relishing the red filling Sakura’s ears. “You blush so easily! I think the name “Sakura” fits you well, wouldn’t you say?”

Sakura was gonna punch him. He was gonna pull some sick moves that leave the one eyed bastard speechless as he sent him flying! He was gonna do it, damn it-

Suo dug into the spot along his upper ribs, making him screech and collapse, arms shooting down to his sides in a failed attempt to block him out. “Nohohohohoho dahahahahaham yooohhohohu!”

“Aww, does it tickle that bad?” Suo cooed sweetly, grinning from ear to ear at his victim’s thrashes and shrieks. “Hey Sakura- what’s black and white and red all over?”

“NOHOHOT THAHHAHT NOHOHOT THAHAHHAT SUHUHUO NOHOHOHOO!” Fingers in his armpits nearly took Sakura’s lungs from him, his voice thinning from how hard he was laughing. “NOHOHOOT THEHEHEHEHRE!”

“Nope, that’s not the answer I’m looking for!” He brought his hands back to Sakura’s lower set of ribs, getting a similar be it not nearly as intense reaction. “Come on- you know the answer, Sakura! Think about it!”

“Hohohohow cahahahn I thihiihihnk, yoohohohu bahahahstahahhahrd! Gehahahhaa I’m gohohoohnna brehahahahak yooohohohour fhahahhahace!” Sakura twisted, and with some luck, he managed to get on his back! Success! “Gohohohot yoohohu nohohow-EHEHEK!”

“Do you?” Suo immediately attacked his stomach, pushing up his t-shirt for maximum tickly access. “Do you really? Truly? Cause to me, it looks like you wanted some tummy tickles, isn’t that right? Huh? Is it?” He made kissy noises at Sakura just to see how red he’d get. To his delight, it was very red. “You’re enjoying this too much to make me stop, huh?”

“Gohoohohoho droohohohohp ohohohohoff theheheh fahhahace of the ehehhahahhrth, yoohohohu sohoohohn of a bihih-EHEHEHEHEHEHH!” Sakura lost his voice for a second, too lost in laughter. They both knew his limit was approaching, it was only a matter of who’d give up first.

That answer came faster than planned. Sakura shot his hand up and grabbed onto Suo’s wrist just as the other boy relented, gasping for air at the abrupt stop of tickling. “Gehahaha..hahahahaha..hehehee…heheeee…Wahahait, whahhait hohohld oohohn..”

“Hold on? You don’t want me to stop” Suo smirked, nodding at the hand grabbing him. “One would think that’s what you meant if you’re not careful.”

Sakura would have gone redder if it was physically possible. He felt lightheaded- was it from the blood in his face or the tickling? Lack of air maybe? “Ugh, yohohu suck!”

“Mmhmm.” Grinning, Suo properly pulled his hands back, watching the other catch his breath from his perch. “So.”

“So?”

“Did you get what you wanted?” Suo smirked, watching Sakura process what he was asking. “Surely you didn’t come over to tickle me just because.”

“Huh? What- you think I wanted you to ti- to- Shut UP!” Sakura flipped, shoving Suo off of him as he sprang to his feet, ready to fight. “That’s just your eyepatch strap! It’s too tight, making you think stupid things! And I- I so let you do that!”

“Oh really?” Suo looked utterly amused, making Sakura flare up.

“YEAH! Yeah- I pitied you and let you get me! So there! You’re welcome!” Sakura turned on his feet, ears red again. “Next time I won’t be so nice!”

“Pfft-” Suo’s snort made him twist with a glare, watching the other half bent over as he waved him off. “Oohoho! How kihihnd! You’re so ni-heeeeeeeeeeh!”

Sakura flipped him off, twisting to hide his smile as Suo laughed harder. It wasn’t tickling, but hearing him lose it felt like a victory in itself.

He’d take it.

Thanks for reading!

[hero21us]

Gold Reigns Supreme

Brody, a dedicated member of the Golden Army soccer team, has always admired Trey’s track and field prowess. He follows Trey’s career closely, inspired by his relentless dedication and impressive achievements. However, recently, Brody heard unsettling rumors about Trey’s sudden disinterest in his sport and his peculiar obsession with a black rubber polo shirt. This strange behavior reminded Brody of his former teammate, Christian, who had disappeared soon after obtaining a similar shirt.

Brody decides to reach out to Trey.  Trey agrees to meet at a local outside gym.  Trey is sitting alone on a bench, lost in thought when Brody catches sight of him.  Taking a deep breath Brody walks over, his heart pounding with anxiety and anticipation.

“Hey, Bro,” Brody begins, trying to sound casual. “Thanks for meeting me.  I heard about your experience with a black polo shirt.  How are you doing?  Trey looks up, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and apprehension. “Brody, thanks for reaching out.  It’s been tough but I’m okay.” 

“Trey, Brody begins, you may remember that the Golden Army brought on a new wingback, Christian #55, a few months ago.  Wanting to prove himself during his first game he did not stay in his position or listen to our captains’ instructions ultimately costing us the match.  His life became hell after that match.  One day he showed up to practice wearing a black rubber polo just like the one you described. 

He began handing out the polos to the team saying that we would win if we became one, obey and serve.  Some of the team seeing his focus and intensity accepted the shirts. They all quickly stopped caring about the team and our matches.  All they wanted was for everyone to start wearing the polos.  When no one else on the team would accept the polos, Christian and those who did all vanished.”

Brody continues, “Reading the stories about your experience I am hoping you might have some information or insight that can help me to find out what happened to Christian and the rest of my teammates.”

Trey takes a deep breath and begins to share his experience. “It all started when I received a package from 009, filled with advanced workout gear. Each outfit seemed to enhance my performance, but the last item was different—a black ‘Fred Perry’ rubber polo shirt. When I put it on, I felt an incredible surge of energy.  I was able to focus, increase the intensity of my workouts and be more synchronized with the team while running the 4x400 relay.

One night after a great workout two men in black came up from behind and put a gas mask on me.  The gas did something to change me.  I no longer had a will.  I existed to obey, serve, be one with my brother drones in the collective.  Our command was to make all men one, united in the black rubber polo.  I was specifically commanded to not wear the polo but to spread the love of all things rubber and polo.  I was to put the shirt on at night along with a gas mask.  The tight rubber shirt on my skin combined with the gas was intoxicating.  It was so powerful and overwhelming that it became impossible for me to act normal.  I needed the rubber and the gas.  I needed to be one with the collective at all times.” 

“I couldn’t have broken free without my friends.”  Trey continues.  “They physically tore the polo off of me and destroyed the gas mask.” 

As Trey and Brody talked a figure emerges from the shadows striding toward them.  Its movements are unnervingly precise, its body clad in black rubber with a black “Fred Perry” buttoned up polo with gold accents and a laurel leaf on its left pec.  Most striking of all was the gas mask obscuring its face, the lenses dark and impenetrable.

It carried another gas mask in its hand.

“Trey,” the figure states in a voice that is deep, monotone and eerily robotic, yet disturbingly human. It is less a voice and more a command programmed to sound alive. “You are required to wear this.”

Trey jumps up, a chill running down his spine, a look of terror on his face.  He remembers the nights he spent under the influence of the gas, how it clouded his mind and made him act against his will. "What the hell? No way! Never again!” "I won't go back," "I’m not a puppet, and I won’t let the collective control me."

But the drone persists; "Resistance is futile. The collective will prevail," he drones, reaching out to place the mask on Trey with mechanical precision.  "You must return to the collective. Your purpose is to spread the unity of the collective." “For your safety. Resistance is prohibited.” 

Brody steps forward; his tone confrontational. “Hey, back off! You’re not forcing anything on him.” 

The polo drone’s head tilts slightly, as if recalculating its approach. 

"Resistance is futile. The collective will prevail." It states matter-of-factly as it suddenly lunges at Brody, attempting to secure the mask over his face. Brody dodges, shoving the polo drone back. Trey joins the fray, grabbing the drone’s arm and pulling it away from Brody.  The gas mask it is holding falling to the ground.

The battle is fierce, each moment filled with tension and determination.  The polo drone displays remarkable force, but its movements seem pre‑programmed, predictable. Trey manages to lock its arms behind its back while Brody reaches for the polo drone’s mask.

The polo drone fights like an animal; its desperation palpable. It claws and thrashes, trying to reclaim the gas mask and put it on Trey. But Brody and Trey hold tight, their combined strength overpowering the drone's frantic attempts.

“If there’s someone under this, we’re pulling them out!” Brody yells, his fingers prying at the mask’s straps.

The polo drone’s muffled voice protests. “Unauthorized action. Cease immediately.”

“Yeah, no thanks,” Brody grunts. With a final tug, the mask comes free landing on the sidewalk, and the two friends stumble backward.

Beneath the mask is a pale, sweating face. The man looks disoriented, his eyes blinking rapidly as if waking from a nightmare.

“Who... where am I?” the man stammers, his voice trembling.

“Christian!” Brody snaps. “Is it really you?”  You just tried to force that gas mask on me!”

Christian looks at the two masks on the ground and begins to reach out for one before Trey stops him.  He reaches for it again becoming more agitated.  Brody holds him tight.  Christian’s attempts become more frantic, his addiction driving him wild. But Brody keeps an iron grip on him determined to keep him away from the mask.

"Look into my eyes Christian. “You will be okay,” Brody states, his eyes beginning to glow gold, while offering Christian a big hug.  “We are here for you!” 

Slowly Christian begins to calm down.  He stares at his own trembling fingers.

“Where have you been for the past few months?” Brody asks.

“I—I don’t remember. The last thing I recall, I was at Pulse waiting for Cap.  He arrived with someone else who I didn’t know. Then... nothing.” 

While explaining and continuing to stare into Brody's gold eyes and the aura of gold that now completely surrounds him, the gold begins to return to Christian’s eyes.  Slowly the black polo is absorbed into Christian’s skin as his gold jersey reemerges bringing a clarity to his mind. 

In a trance like state, Christian continues; “Bros, after I f*cked up during the match I went into a deep depression.  I lost all my confidence.  When cap put the polo on me, I felt my focus, intensity and ability to synchronize with the team return. It was empowering.  Then the gas mask was put on me and all that focus changed to obeying, serving and growing a collective. Nothing else mattered.”

“What are you saying?”  Brody asks.

“It was not the polo that made me fight for the collective but the gas.  I can still feel the polo within me.  It is now part of my being.  It has united itself to the gold within me to sharpen my focus and intensity in order to support the golden army.”

Impulsively Trey decides he must destroy the gas masks. Spotting two kids walking through the park on the way to baseball practice, he runs toward them and grabs a bat from one of them. Running back, he is about to smash the masks.

"Stop!" Brody yells. Trey freezes in place. "What?"

Without a word Brody grabs a mask, and to the horror of Trey and Christian, places it over his face. He becomes frozen and blank his individuality beginning to drain as the mask blacks out Brody's gold eyes. At that exact moment a group of polo drones emerges and surrounds the three men holding polos and gas masks repeating: "You will submit. You will obey."

Brody is standing frozen in place lost to the gas. The drones are approaching. Time seems to have stopped for Christian and Trey not knowing what to do.

Brody's head twitches slightly. It begins to shake. The back eye sockets start to glow. Brighter and brighter as a gold spiral appears. Brody's gold aura shines brighter than it ever had before. His jersey becomes metallic in nature and shine. The entire mask turns gold and a gold gas seeps out from the edges of the mask.

The polo drones freeze mid step.

After what seems an eternity to Christian and Trey, but is only a few seconds, Brody removes the gas mask as if nothing had happened.

The eye sockets of all the polo drones surrounding them have become gold spirals. A gold gas can be seen swirling behind the lenses. They stand erect facing Brody and in unison intone: "We are one. We obey gold. We serve gold. Gold is supreme. Awaiting commands."

"Gather all drones to the pitch where team management will provide instructions," Brody commands. The drones turn and walk away in unisan.

Brody, Christian and Trey, all exhausted and overwhelmed, leave the park supporting one another to find a place where they can rest and process all they have just experienced.

A few months later Trey wins Olympic gold in the 4X400 wearing his gold proudly wanting nothing to do with polos or drones. Christian rejoins Brody and the team on the pitch wearing his black rubber polo during the day filled with confidence, focus and intensity while easily shifting into his gold jersey which shines brighter and stronger than it ever had before. The polo drones remain mindless and obedient to every command of the collective which has become gold. The collective supports the Golden Army in all things. It only assimilating members of the golden family who willingly submit. The polos obedience being reinforced by wearing the black rubber polos and the gold gas flowing through their masks.