#hehe finally an excuse to draw these two i love them so much

[slavhew]

(for the ask game) How about number 1?

Top three OTP/OT3/OT+?

These shift wildly depending on which ones are in my focus, but right now (on the romantic end) they're DirkJake, DaveKat and JohnDave! They're probably kinda basic picks, but they're classic for a reason (and I have terminal Strider favoritism)

Platonic-wise I'm diehard for Meowrails, KanKat and DirkJane heehee.

[lale-txt]

what gets their heart pounding... ♡ [partly ns.fw] ↳ w/ Gojo, Geto, Nanami & Shiu

a/n: reader is gn! i've written these kinds of hcs for OP in the past and i am just so weak for the mix of fluff and a lil bit (a whole lot) spice (´⌣`ʃƪ) part two is already in the drafts, hehe

❦ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

discovering the snack drawer you keep for him at your place, because you know he has a sweet tooth and you want him to feel at home

when you lift his blindfold to gaze into his eyes, unaware that he’s drowning in yours as well

feeling how small your hands are compared to his when he interlaces his fingers with yours, your thumb drawing small circles on his skin while he holds your hand

the same hand wrapping around his length, a little greedy even, your thumb now rubbing over his dripping tip in a way that feels familiar

the small gasp you let out every damn time when he finally presses into you until he’s fully inside, your eyes fluttering open for a heartbeat until they close in bliss again till he starts moving

the vivid memory of you sinking your teeth into every part of him within your reach, trying to muffle your moans (you’re at school after all), and seeing his skin bloom with your tiny love bites the day after

❦ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

when you play absentmindedly with his hair while he rests his head in your lap on this hot summer day, both of you seeking out the shadows of the gingko trees 

the sweet sound of your laughter, the one you only let out when it’s just the two of you and no one else around

wearing your scrunchie on his wrist because he tends to forget his hair ties often (you both know he doesn’t, he just wants an excuse to keep something that belongs to you so you’ll always come back to him)

the stolen kisses and how you part your lips for him so willingly, as if you want to invite his whole being into you 

your fingers tangled in his hair while he pushes you against the nearest wall, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, your panties still dangling from your ankle while he keeps thrusting inside of you 

finding said panties in the pocket of his jacket the day after, the scent of yours still sticking to them, as well as the promise that you’ll meet again soon

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

seeing all the bakeries all over town you pinned for you two to visit together when you have a day off

the ways your eyes light up outside of the shop windows already, pointing at all the baked goods you want to try with him, knowing it’s not about the food but about spending time together over something you both love

your thumb brushing over the corner of his mouth to wipe away a crumb, only for your lips to meet his shortly after in a gentle kiss

the longing in your eyes when you watch him undress, needy mewls when he takes his sweet time to hang up his suit neatly, unbuttoning his shirt slowly until you grow impatient and reach out to help him with hungry hands

your fingertips on his skin, exploring every inch of muscle as if he was carved from marble, and your lips trailing down his abs, your breath so hot and heavy on his skin

seeing you melt under his praise when you unbuckle his belt to free his aching cock, only to take it down your throat so, so deeply until your face is nuzzled against his trimmed happy trail

❦ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐔

your name popping up on his phone display, texting him at random times of the day to tell him how much you miss him while he’s busy with clients, you being sweetly unaware how much it means to him

hearing you laugh softly when he calls you by your favorite pet name, knowing how easily he can charm you like that

seeing you wear the expensive gifts he got you, fingers sliding over the necklace around your throat as if to claim you as his and his only

your tongue swirling around his fingertips when he slides them in your mouth, eyes pinned on you while he cups your chin with his other hand, knowing you want to be good for him

how greedily you stick out your tongue to swallow his spit, eyes pleading him to make a mess out of you, one to remember

the sounds of flesh on flesh echoing from every wall when you get on your hands and knees for him, as if your insides were molded just for him

[fuxuannie]

oooooh if u need any ideas id love to read a fic where serval plays matchmaker for reader and gepard and its all mushy and cute

also random idea but maybe gepard draws one of his (lovely!) portraits for reader looll

* pairing : gepard x gender neutral reader

* prompt : servals main job is a performer, but who knew that she also works as cupid? (request ♡)

* authors note : I LOVE GEPARD AND SERVAL LANDAU SOOO MUCH those two are literally my faves.. gepard pls come home, clara appeared on my screen and i love her but baby pls <\3

SERVAL looks at her brother GEPARD as he paints in his room, humming to himself as she leans on the doorframe as she silently watched him decorate the canvas with his creativity and paint. At first, what he was painting was unrecognizable, but once those little details came to life through his art - it wasn't hard to see exactly who he was painting.

"Oh? I didn't know you were such a passionate painter, Geppie." Serval giggled, watching him jolt at the fact someone was watching him the entire time. "Serval? What are you.." He clears his throat, trying to cover the canvas. "..Doing here.."

"It's my workshop, why else would I be here? The real question is, why are you trying to hide an obvious crush from your sister?" She says with a smile, walking past him and having him move away from the canvas. It was just as she suspected, those little details.. the choice of eye color, the smile and how they matched your features.

"Please don't do anything.." Gepard sighs, and Serval lets out a fake offended gasp. "I have never done anything of the sort!"

..But she never agreed.

In the next few days, while Gepard was with his sister outside, he'd find her talking to you. And Serval making some fake excuse about practice and leaves you with her brother. The first few times seemed purely coincidental, but Serval doesn't seem like the type to simply forget one of her greatest passions.

Next was how she was now more often than not talking to you and Gepard about things about each other. "Oh! (name), are you aware Gepard just loves to grow flowers? You should see what he's blooming in our garden!" or "Gepard! Do you know that (name) really likes to eat at this place called.."

But Serval wouldn't do this for just a crush. She appreciated how much joy and smile you brought to her dear brothers face, and it wasn't often that he broke his serious, Silvermane Guards leader routine. But when he talked about you, it was like he was describing the beauty of an Aeon. He truly loved you, respected you and would surrender his loyalty for you.

So she was absolutely overjoyed when you began to open up about your interest in a certain blonde, and now that she knew you both were interested, it was the final step.

"Geppie, meet me at the fountain today! Got something suuuper important to tell you."

"(name), I'd like to give you free tickets to my next concert today! Just meet me at the fountain."

And there at the agreed meeting place, Gepard grumbled to himself, his back turned to the city as he stared at the small letter glued to the fountain. "Hehe, I lied to you lil bro. ♡ Go tell them how you feel, maybe they have something to tell you too."

He was initially confused on what the other half of the letter meant, until the sounds of footsteps and a disappointed sigh came from behind him. "Servaaall.. you lied to mee.." Gepard paused, and immediately crumpled the letter in his hands. "Damn it."

You then notice Gepard standing by the fountain as well, a little confused with how busy he usually is and especially at this hour. "What brings you here?" You asked, seeing him turn around while pinching the bridge of his nose. "Nothing.. My sister.. I assume she set this up."

Ohhhh.

You blinked a few times and giggle. "Sounds like Serval.. You're usually not this available, wanna talk?" You asked, sitting on the basin of the fountain as he instead leaned on it slightly. "Sure.."

There were a few moments of odd but comforting silence, watching those of Belabog pass by. Underworld and Overworld now together as children who thought that clouds were but fairytale dreams now get to see the bright blue sky after pure darkness all their lives.

"Thank you." You said out of nowhere, kicking your feet as Gepard turns to face you while you were still focused on the people passing by. He smiles a little at how gentle and relaxed you looked. "For what?"

"For all you do. The people you protect.. the kindness you give.. everything." You say with a smile, the very same smile of every portrait he ever painted of you, how it radiated a sense of comfort and warmth that made his heart skip a beat.

He knows he's turning red, and you giggle a little at it. Your head shifts to lean on his shoulder, a small gulp coming from his end as his arm slings around your shoulder.

"You're.. you're welcome."

[rosiehrs]

YOU DON'T KNOW MY NAME # 29. pent up (written)

word count ; 1.2k

a/n ; hehe happy november and i didnt proof read this

“aeri! no! you can’t do this to me!” you exclaimed as the older girl dragged you towards the café. the both of you were getting stares from people in the area, but all you cared about was not seeing irene and all aeri cared about was seeing jimin. 

“y/n, no take backs. you said you’d do this with me.” she replied, nonchalantly. “yeah, that was before i found out i was gonna see irene. unnie, think about me, please.” aeri rolled her eyes at you, shaking her head. “you’re so dramatic.” 

she had successfully dragged you in front of the café, stopping. she stared at you like you were an idiot before shoving you, “go!” you whined as you entered the café, the door chiming in the process. your eyes anxiously darted across the whole café, looking for the people you were hoping to avoid. just as you were about to breathe in relief, you saw her face - irene’s face. she was sitting on the same side as jennie, nayeon and yeri, the other three sitting away from you. irene laughed at something wendy said, looking up nonchalantly and freezing when she saw you. yeri followed along, wondering where irene’s eyes had travelled to. her eyes widened when she saw you and felt herself tense up. she turned to irene and back to you, distress clearly written on her face. you looked away quickly, turning to aeri who was looking for someone else. “damn, she’s not here yet.”

“bro, i hate you so fucking much right now. irene unnie and i just made eye contact.” that seemed to catch aeri’s attention as she finally faced you. “oh, shit.. no, she didn’t. pretend she didn’t. come on.” she dragged you away to order, but irene’s eyes hadn’t let your figure. yeri nudged the older girl, finally causing her to look away. 

you and aeri had finished ordering and stood around waiting for your orders. nayeon looked up at the sudden movement from the corner of her eye and lit up at the two of you. “hey, isn’t that y/n and aeri?”

immediately, everyone's heads turned towards the both of you - freezing once you realised they had seen you. irene cursed under her breath as her friends called out for you . 

“oh my god! y/n! aeri!” joy cheered. “come here, come here!” 

you smiled awkwardly as you held onto aeri’s arm and walked towards the group. “uh, hi, unnies.” you greeted sheepishly, aeri repeating your words. “oh my god, y/n. finally, in the flesh!” jennie politely said, throwing you a smile. “you too, unnies. it’s great to finally meet you guys. i’m a huge fan.”

“sit, sit!” they insisted, moving in to make space for the both of you. you ended up sitting next to nayeon, with aeri opposite you, sitting next to wendy. 

“your posts don’t do you justice, y/n.” nayeon slyly commented, taking a sip from her drink. you smiled sheepishly, failing to hide the flustered look on your face. “thank you, unnie. you, too.” you awkwardly replied, completely missing the way irene’s eye twitched. you looked up to see irene staring intently at you, feeling frozen under her gaze. “nayeon unnie, be careful - y/n’s girlfriend is sitting right in front of her.” yeri instigated, causing the both of you to quickly turn to her with a look of shock. she grinned in response, as the reactions of the other girls started to kick in. 

“wait, what?” wendy asked, clearly confused. “aeri, you- you’re dating y/n?”

“i- uh,” she began, not knowing how to explain it to them without embarrassing herself. “well, not ex-” with that, the café’s front door chimed, drawing everyone’s attention. you looked up to see karina who politely greeted the cashier and looked around to find her usual seat. you kicked aeri under the table causing her to stop and look back. the both of you immediately stood up and excused yourselves. 

“we’re so sorry, unnies. we’d love to catch up another day! it’s just we have to meet a friend right now, but it was really nice seeing you all!” she grabbed your hand and laced her fingers through yours, turning the other way and walking towards karina. “fuck my life, let’s just get this over with.”

you and giselle pretend to nonchalantly walk towards the counter to collect your orders, catching the attention of the korean girl. “oh, gigi!..” she took a second to glance at you, the smile slightly dropping from her face. “..and y/n. um, good to see you! what are you two doing here?” 

“oh! hi, rina! i was just taking y/n/n out on a date since she’s been so stressed with volleyball lately, isn’t that right, babe?” 

“i- uh, yeah. riri’s so thoughtful, i’ve been exhausted all week but i’m always looking forward to spending more time with her.” you replied, throwing her a smile which karina returned bitterly. “ha.. right. well.. i hope you guys have a good one!” 

“you, too! it was nice seeing you!” you grabbed your drinks and left the café eagerly. once you were finally out of sight, you dropped her hand, shoving her as hard as you could. “what the fuck, unnie! that couldn’t have gone any worse!”

“stop, stop, i know. did you see her? rina didn’t even give a shit-”

you scoffed at her, not believing how that’s her only concern. “don’t be stupid, she was jealous. she was so evidently jealous, it’s working, unnie. but my problem is seeing the person i emphasised i didn’t want to see. i told you i didn’t want to and you didn’t give a shit. sure, call me dramatic but i seriously didn’t need that, unnie. i didn’t need to see her, i didn’t need to be near her. you know how i felt about this whole thing and you still couldn’t even think about how i felt. all you care about is whatever it is you have going on with karina. so for your sake and mine, just give in and tell her how you feel. she likes you too, but you’re just too blind to see it. i’m leaving, get home safe.” you stormed off, ignoring aeri’s calls of your name. when you got far enough, you took a taxi home with a million different emotions swimming in your chest.

frustration, embarrassment, anger. throughout the long course of your friendship with aeri, you had never snapped at her before - you’ve never even raised your voice at her. perhaps it was years worth of pent up frustration from previous occurrences, but it didn’t matter. it was done and you didn’t regret a single word. 

the sound of your phone dinging snapped you out of your thoughts, causing you to feel more frustrated with the thought of aeri texting you. you reached into your pocket to check your notifications and flinched harshly when you saw the words written on your phone.

previous | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ⤻ irene was a private influencer and y/n was an avid follower. you were extremely open about your admiration for the older girl. like every other fangirl, you want her to notice you – but she doesn't know your name. (and you don't know hers)

tag list (closed); @winieter @silantryoo @luvjanexx @perfectsunlight @pandamiswifey @jeindall777 @jimanie @sapphicmemos @slowlydifferentbluebird @jjuncidio @awkwardtoafault @gfriendsapple @cwpiqwon @nasyu-kookies @justme-idle @mightymyo @writingficsblog @archerheejin @yoontoonwhs @jenscx @captivq @ddeulgiheree @urfriendlylocalidiot @juhyunsthirdwife @eccobe @uzumakioden @dni-unavailable @jisooftme @pandafuriosa60 @ehcyps @wiinvrs @eunhhh @lyninabin @sewiouslyz @ryujinbrat @edamboon @ky-yk @orchestralbeats @ludasgf @blooming--warrior @blue4hour @djoenjoyer1 @staryujinnie

[radioroxx]

*slides you $500 in monopoly money* spare deets about the isafrin kids? i love them soooooooo much and would love love love to know even more!!!

like!! how did they get wished into existence? were they just There one day as small kids, or did they come as babies? did aurore come first and then eile? and isafrin!!! they look different!!?!!?! love love love love postcanon designs and would love to hear your thoughts on them (and! their bonding earrings??)

I WROTE THIS OUT AND REALIZED HOW STUPID LONG IT IS SO. ITS GOING UNDER A CUT. WOWZERS

Ok first- WISH BABIES!!!

uh. uhm. uh

ahah. oops!!

though we did get to discussing a few options after getting this ask (more like. i. asked them. and they provided. im not the thinker in this group. hehe!)

(@chromatasia )

for context on this one- i believe a while ago we also talked about wishing involving sacrificing? the idea of givinf up a piece of yourself (sometimes physically, like hair) to help power a wish! or link yourself to it?

a second option (three whole screenshots…)

(@unregisteredskybox )

carve your own baby!! yay!

general idea for our fankids though is that yes, they were created super young. and as babies. so aurore wouldve been crafted a few years before eilé :)

so yea ur two options <3 pick i guess lol. i dont have a solid idea there.

the second half of your questions- yes!! isafrin! theyre older and different!! wahoo!

the older isafrin designs were moreso. i wanted to have a little fun and made them. lawl. but now i get an excuse to share anyway :) so here!!

numbered the details to make it a lil easier. also dont mind these r quick scribbles,,

1- general outfits and stuff. siffrins i wanted to keep mostly similar to how i usually draw them. sleeveless top, horrible and unnecessary amount of belts,, knowing that hes maybe not as eager to change as some others might be. they are comfortable in their style and thats what matters. for isabeau i wanted to keep a familiar vibe, but still change it up. i think he would still wear clothes that are flowy-er etc etc, buuut yeayeayea. not an outfits guy really so jfkf theyre pretty simple.

2- themb!! they look different! siffrins hair is longer obv obv, and no lightless dye anymore. they tie it back usually, but he still likes it long. also some facial hair. important to me. (you may also notice lack of eyepatch,, personal hc that siffrin gets more comfortable without it after making up with bonnie some more. that he maybe depending on it a lot because he thought it would make them uncomfortable, which theyyy dont have to worry about. anymore! so less eyepatch. sometimes still though). isa on the other hand looks mooostly the same! except. ofc. bigger beard. you guys should know i love my beards by now. lawl. other than that mostly the same,, physical pain in me trying to think of a different hairstyle for him… maybe in the future but for now he gets This.

3- new cloak-thing for sif! his regular cloak is probably much more well suited for the travelling lifestyle, much less the domestic stay-at-home lifestyle, soo they changed it up! (and totally not an excuse for isabeau to try out craft stitching nooo definitely not as practice for the future whaat who said that.) they will still wear the old cloak occasionally, buuut not as often as they used to.

4- finally! bonding earrings!!! yes! the designs themselves are pretty simple. squares and change symbols for the design sif made for isa, and a star with bits that go ding-ding that isa made for sif. more importantly, siffrin carved the earrings himself! it is. hard. to do that. a design that is so small. there were many failed attempts and scraped ideas but they got it done! and isa loves them very much. for isas design, the main star part is glass, and the dangling bits are carved gems (picture isabeau, panicking because this is siffrin hes making these for so it needs to be perfect. and he gets odile to help him, because despite all the teasing she is ofc very fond, and helps him out with that aspect of the design.)

ok thats all - bye bye bye

[linda-likes-to-draw]

Ok hear me out

Chrysanthe as a dad. (+Miraak)

I actually had these finished a long, long long time ago but never uploaded them xD so here they are! GHD Timeskip!AU featuring Chry and Miraak as dads. How wholesome. This was all just an excuse to draw family shenanigans with Chry and Miraak sksksk

(the first two panel did not happen btw. it was a joke from the server xD Chry would be So Not Thrilled to know their baby is stolen and their parents killed by Miraak.)

After the whole Alduin Business they decided to get a baby from an orphanage! Hooray! I have never actually decided what the baby's name should be. Maybe @99corentine you'd like to choose one for them? 👀

And also have these two where. Chry has like 4 babies because we thought ''hey let's give them MORE'' and boom.

Info about the babies below!

Basically the Nord+Altmer kid is their lovechild(as in their biological son) gifted by Mara(cuz you know. they gay. can't really give birth.) Chry & Miraak got really confused but still kinda rolled with it. This baby has both Chry & Miraak's traits, having slightly pointy ears and a mix of white + golden hair, and has mostly Miraak's fight-y personality but still listens to Chry if he scolds them. They are Miraak's favorite and so they feel proud about it.

The Snow Elf, however, was made bc I accidentally misinterpreted @/mellowscrolls' convo and thought Erandur somehow got another child from Mara and was told to give them to Chry xD they are very shy, and clings to Chry the most. Miraak scares them a little due to his ominous aura lol They also like Erandur a lot! cuz he was the one that took care of them first hehe

The HERMAEUS MORA ONE, HOWEVER, is there simply and solely bc HM wanted to mess with Chry & Miraak. So after he heard that they got so many babies, for some reason, snatched/created a baby himself and corrupted it with his daedric dark magic or something. and just. left it at Chry's front door lmao Chry and Miraak did NOT take them well at first. Miraak in particular, as he refuses to even acknowledge them. Chry was afraid of it, thinking they could be HM's pawn. But, this kid was, in fact, just a kid. They are corrupted by Mora, but they were actually not influenced by him at all. They still maintain their toddler mind. And so Chry refused to kill them, as much as Miraak suggested to.

Chry starts to warm up to this half-daedra a little, but he is always unable to stare into their face, which is covered with numerous Hermaeus' eyes. Does HM have the ability to spy on them through those eyes? Nobody knows. They can also summon tentacles, which freaked Chry & Miraak out very much, so this ability was never brought back out again.

Because of both parent being wary of them, this baby is more mature and understands how different they are and does not blame either of them. They are actually a very sweet kid and takes care of all their siblings. But they know how much of a ''monster'' they are. They know about HM, they even hear his whispers to hurt Chry & Miraak when they sleep, and so they despise him, even if he was their ''creator''. They love their new parents and would never hurt them.

As they grew, maybe Miraak finally took pity and hand-carved a wodden mask for them to wear outside. They treasure this gift with their whole being as it was the first time the nord father cared for them.

Chry needs rest.

[2aceofspades]

Hi, I'm the anon who asked if you were okay with all of this chaos. I have many things to say!

First off, your many thank yous made me very very (two verys) happy. So thank YOU.

Second, you absolutely deserve all of the attention you're getting. You're seriously an incredible artist, and I love the fact that a lot of your art is on paper. I especially love how Donnie looks in your style (which is funny, because I remember you saying that you DIDN'T like it). Ahem. Getting off track a bit there. Anyways. You're an incredible artist, and all of the attention is well earned, AND it's okay to feel overwhelmed. I hope you know that we don't expect you to answer everything right away. You're popular, and lots of people are asking you to do things. You can choose to not do something, and you SHOULD. Do what inspires you, and we'll love it!

Third, and hopefully finally. I play with character AIs a lot, just to kind of see how characters would react to certain things. I AM an author, and I can imagine these things myself, but I like seeing it from external sources more. It almost seems more believable. When a human comes up with it, it just feels more raw and expressive. Or something. I have no clue what I'm saying; hopefully it's not too muddled. Then, when someone DRAWS it. It's a thousand times better. I just love it so much!

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I love how we can give you prompts and questions, and you'll go somewhere amazing with it. I loved the thing with Leo, Donnie, and the coffee. My thanks goes out to you and the asker. It's a huge gift to us when you respond. Literally, it's like a present, I love it.

So, just to clarify because I'm paranoid and words don't really work sometimes, are you okay with super random prompt-asks? Like earlier I saw a post where so-and-so asked so-and-so what the turtles night-time routines would be. Stuff like that?

Thank you so much for everything you do for us! You're amazing, and we all appreciate you.

OH.MI.GOSH??!!!?!

Wah-

Thank you so much!!! Gah- I hope I can articulate an even somewhat intelligent response to literally ALL of this. Okay!

|

First off, I see what you did there and I frickin’ loved it ohmigosh best response ever!! 🙌✨

Secondly, I really really appreciate all your kind words. You seriously had me smiling the whole way through oh stars you’re too kind 🥹 Also, I’m very glad there are some of y’all out there that like the way I draw Donnie…especially traditionally, cuz I won’t lie…I get a bit over-critical of how I draw him hehe. Glossing over that teehee~ But seriously, I also really appreciate your respect of my time cuz I feel much less pressured and more seen as just a lil human doing art things, so thank you! 🌟

And lastly, I totally understand ya and I couldn’t agree more. It’s honestly better when I see other artists capture emotions cuz I just eat that up aaughh yes!! Ahem..I just hope that I can capture at least some emotional accuracy in my art, especially considering how dialogue is not my strong suit by a long shot hehe…

Awwwee! Thank you so much!! It was really fun sketching a silly lil moment like that, so I couldn’t be more grateful for the idea that inspired me 🤗

And finally, that’s where it gets complicated cuz…it’s honestly just complicated for me and my lil gremlin brain. I really do enjoy answering lil prompts and putting my own spin on them, but I can’t make it like…an official thing…? If that makes any sense. Like, I think I’ve seen a few artists on Tumblr put out a post for prompt asks, but that idea, for me, makes me very nervous. I naturally try not to think too much while I draw, I just feel my emotions, really. I dunno…maybe that’s a lame excuse gah..- but, as it stands, for now, I’m ~okay~ with answering the occasional prompt ask, but I won’t be making a post about it or anything. I’m just a little um..paranoid..?..after the whole spontaneous sticker war thing heh…

One last big thank you to you, anon 🙌🙌 I seriously appreciate it so much 💙✨

[sapphicdib]

Excuse me?? Go on?? I wanna know about those headcanons

Also i appreciate bringing my by now old art back to light ^^

OHHH U WANT HEADCANONS?? [cracks knuckles]

(also ofc dude! u shld thank @/creaturevoiddweller for putting it on my dash tho hehe)

ANYWAYS THE HCS UR DRAWING SPECIFICALLY LINED UP WITH ARE:

Moon being taller/generally bigger than Sig…normally i’m not feral over height differences but god theirs drives me insane

Moon loving the stars. I feel like after her collapse, they were one of the few things that brought her comfort. Within canon I’m pretty sure you can see the stars even during the day (they’re green too!! super cool) so she loves to study them and their movements. The rare occasions when the rain comes after night falls are her favorites, being able to see them more clearly in the dark always excites her. Going on a lil stargazing date would probably melt her heart !!

Sig being fucking whipped for Moon 😭 this is a fucking given but him being distracted and at Moon instead of the sky because she considers her prettier than even the starts makes me. AUGH.

(More general hcs below the cut so this post doesn’t become a million miles long)

Sig learns to knit and makes Moon a scarf and a couple cloaks after her collapse. He actually has a lot of hobbies because he doesn’t think the great problem is solvable, nor does he really care to solve it anyways. He even says he’s got “nothing better to do with my time” when Suns asks him if he’s going to purpose another messenger. Meanwhile Suns says “you have two options, do nothing or work like you’re supposed to” in terms of what to do with your time.

Moon loves picking Sig up/holding her/generally grabbing her n throwing her around because she’s actually quite strong and Sig is smaller than her. Sig does not mind in the slightest.

They’re both interested in bioengineering. Sig more so, but Moon mentons Rivulet’s interesting adaptations and knows a lot about the flora and fauna of the world. I think they bonded over this quite a bit.

Speaking of, Sig was also a more medical-oriented facility. Pebbles mentions that he “was not a medical facility even when the equipment was functioning” to hunter, so the iterators may have had more specialized niches as the generations went on. Therefore, she becomes the sort of defacto “puppet-doctor” of the local group, helping to fix things like broken joints or umbilicals after the ancients disappear. Also just the slag reset keys in general. I have a drawing about this I’m finishing soon so watch out for that hehe

Moon’s kindness absolutely rubbed off on Sig. When he first got put online, she interacted with him a lot as his personality core was still developing, and he picked up on some of her traits. In terms of age I see their group as Moon and Suns (gen 1), Sig and Chasing Wind (mid gen) and Unparalleled Innocence and Pebbles (final gen).

SIG TEACHING MOON STUPID GAMER LINGO AND UWU SPEAK CAUSES A DISASTER IN THE LOCAL GROUP CHATS. The first time she says “poggers” sends everyone into an uproar and Sig gets multiple DMs being like “WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS.”. Sig thinks it’s the funniest shit in the world.

Moon is a lesbian, Sig is a bisexual gender-fluid disaster. I’m sure you can tell from my rambles I use he/she/they/it pronouns for her.

Moon’s nickname for Sig is “doll”. “Little thing” is also a common one, since Sig jokes that his gender is just “thingy”.

I can’t think of any more but thank you so much for the ask!! I love these two so fucking much and getting to ramble about them makes me so happy, especially because I’m absolutely suffering on my period rn and it distracted me from the pain. I love ur art sm!!!!

[jellyshark-jester]

Minecraft oc tee hee

Guys I fucked up cuz I made an oppsies and deleted the Minecraft character post thing I’m gonna cry;-; Anyways this means I have an excuse to talk more about them<333

Anyways here’s mine and my friends Minecraft characters tee hee (again;-;)

Right basics the whole lore of the server that I’m running is that everyone isn’t acc form this realm and that we all got stripped off of who we are before we enter this space but you can also make characters that are from the world and shit, so it’s just random shit really.

But in my group all of us aren’t from this land and we band together to feel safe by creating our space called the enchanted grove that is forbidden to enter.

Here’s what the grove looks like hehe:

More info on the character hehe:

Player: Albedo/Aro/Ado (they/them)

First one: Albedo

Height: 5’1.5 (true form is bigger then the milkyway)

Pronouns: they/it/void/she

Age: older then time

Race: void archives angel

Origins: an anomaly born from nothing and is to be an observer to the laws of the universe in it’s empty space. It is weak and fragile but larger then the milkyway. It’s Curiosity with the “human experience” was its downfall, as it takes a smaller shape to be an observer up close, but due to it’s weak state and how fragile it is, one hit from a shooting star can cost its wings as it falls…

After that it spots a woman and shifts into a being that is similar but still retaining its angelic form.

Personality traits: seems reserved but loves and enjoys compony and always drowsy.

Player: Rion (He/him)

Second one: Comet Cosmos

Height: 6’3 (tire form is bigger then most constellations)

Any pronouns and star/starself

Age unknown and hard to date as they’re made up of multiple stars

Race: celestial entity (Comet is a physical manifestation of a constellation)

Origins: Comet is the constellation of the devil who spent eons watching over the world wishing that they could take part in it. One day, a lovely goddess lily took the world from a place of limited resources to a place of love and joy in which more people were welcome to enjoy. By doing this she granted a physical body to the stars themselves so they too could enjoy the world they cared so much for.

Personality: Comet likes to keep to herself, she’s reserved and snarky but curious and passionate.

((To preface that comets origins is acc kinda false but they don’t know that*

Player: Tomo (he/they)

Finally: Precious prince 

Height: 5’0.5 (other form is a giant dumbo octopus bigger then The kraken)

Race: was once a human a long time ago

Pronouns: he/they

Age: also old

Origins: adopted by Cthulhu and is a warlock of chaos that’s just want a brake and a carefree life.

Personality traits: very nice for an chaos warlock<3 but also very nice for a normal guy

The enchantment grove crew<333

What albedo looks like in their true form, i haven’t draw what the other two looks like yet dhdhdhhd

[loveydoveylex]

@fishy-moirails HI RAIN! SO! I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND ME MAKING A POST HERE IN RESPONSE TO YOUR TAGS, BECAUSE THIS GIVES ME AN EXCUSE TO TALK ABOUT MY CHARACTER HEHE.

my good ol' invader zim self insert. now, I LOVE aliens, as I'm sure people know, and I usually make my self insert an alien when applicable because I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. but for iz, I decided... hmmm. y'know what? let's make him a regular human to contrast zim.

he's sort of the antithesis to zim, and yet at the same time, they're both incredibly similar - they just don't realize it. lex is somebody who doesn't fit in with his peers and feels ostracized by society because of things about him that aren't under his control... sound familiar?

the two aren't as different as they may think. I enjoy the concept of characters that contrast eachother but deep down fundamentally share the same traits - just channeled differently.

zim is out to destroy all humans. he wants to conquer the earth and win the respect of the tallest so they'll finally see potential in him.

lex, on the other hand... has given up on caring about how others view him. he feels alienated, so he takes that and turns it literal. he loves the idea of otherworldly extraterrestrial life (of course he does, he's ME!) because he relates so much more to aliens than he does to other humans!

he's incredibly fascinated with them - to a much less paranoid extent than dib. he doesn't want to expose an alien, or have an alien autopsy video named after him, he wants to make friends with one!

to zim, of course, this is nothing but absurd. and lex loves that! because that's exactly how he would react if an alien felt that way about his species! he would think it was strange and probably a bit stupid!

zim GETS him. even if zim... doesn't... get him. but, like. HE gets ZIM. but, he... okay I lost track of my thought process.

anyways this doesn't answer your question at all and I'm so sorry so here's your answer: lex is a regular human, in that drawing disguised as an alien through wacky shenanigans that probably ensued (likely involving zim and gir) :)

[evelxtus]

Thoma, Albedo, Kazuha and maybe Gorou & Heizou if ur up for it, confessing to gn!reader headcanons or scenario, just because

℘ . . . they confess to gn!reader. ⚘

featuring · thoma, albedo, kazuha, gorou x gn!reader.

note · sorry for not adding heizou, still wanna know more before writing about him :] and sorry i'm a bit rustyyyy but i like this work. :0 ty for requesting!

thoma.

Thoma's confession is something you could see coming, you can see how his behavior towards you changes a bit before he tells you how he feels.

Thoma does whatever it takes to make you smile, and puts your needs before his own. He perfectly notices when you're in an uncomfortable situation, and gets you out of trouble with ease. And in general, finds a million ways to keep you company even when he's working for the Kamisato's.

Sometimes he even sneaks out of his job for a little while, just to find you and give you some excuse to join him.

“You know what? The flowers in the pot that I watered for all this month have finally bloomed. I know they are your favorite flowers, so are you coming to see them? I even took one for you… but don't tell anyone!”

Also, if you don't know how to do an activity well, he always knows how to help you improve quickly and efficiently. Seeing the good work you two do together, his mind can't help but wonder... if you also feel the same way about him or that connection is only felt by him.

“We're done! It wasn't that much, was it? We really do make a great couple! Couple… of work, of course…hehe…”

If Thoma takes too long to confess, his mouth will betray him sooner or later. And despite the fact that his words come out a bit chaotic due to his nervousness, and he's totally blushing, he will not stop looking you in the eyes with security, knowing that this is what he truly wants.

albedo.

When Albedo realizes how much he is in love with you, his first reaction is confusion.

“Love is but a chemical reaction. Why does it feel more complex than that…?”

Whenever you go to Dragonspine, he tells you to visit him to make sure you're totally okay after wandering around such a dangerous place.

“These mountains are quite hostile. Please stop by my camp once you're done, I'll make something hot for you to drink.”

He is almost always alone, and worrying about experiments and things that concern him, but when it comes to you, he can't get you out of his head, all the while thinking “I hope y/n okay.” or “Should I go find y/n?”

Or the way whenever he's talking to Sucrose, he finds some way to name you in the conversation. Of course, Sucrose is already more than clear that Albedo has feelings for you, and it's thanks to her that the alchemist began to think about that subject.

“Am I...talking about y/n too much? My apologies, I thought it was relevant to the topic of conversation. I should… go back to camp, there are things I need to discuss alone.”

After that, every time your image appears in his mind, his cheeks take on a slight pink color, and has his pencil ready to draw a sketch of you, because it's the only thing that calms him in moments like this.

It doesn't take long until it's impossible for Albedo to keep to himself what he feels. He thinks that this feeling is something superior to him and if he keeps quiet for a long time, nothing good will happen.

His confession flows smoothly at the moment of truth, but Albedo pauses a few times, deliberating which words to use or which are inappropriate. Albedo wants everything to be perfect for you, even when he's not.

If you accept him, he'll have a hard time making eye contact with you without turning pink, and he won't be able to hold back an unintentional smile that creeps across his face every time he's by your side, making him more distracting than usual.

kazuha.

As soon as he realizes how he feels, Kazuha becomes more confident with you. He still talks in that poetic way from time to time, but he doesn't have as many formalities.

He's not afraid to praise you from time to time, even publicly. Paying you compliments and seeing your shy reaction in response makes his heart noticeably faster and fills him with pride at the power of his words.

May even tease you about it. He finds it quite adorable about you, seeing how frustrated you are at his flattery.

“The power of my words over you just makes me want to keep showering you with compliments, isn't that what someone like you deserves? Don't be shy, look at me while I tell you about what my mind wanders about.”

And in this moment when he tries to tease you so you keep blushing, that's when Kazuha starts speaking from his heart, letting out what he really feels.

The change from joking to speaking from the heart is quite noticeable. His tone lowers a bit and becomes more serious, his eyes wandering over the horizon wistfully, thinking of a thousand endings this could have or what if you don't reciprocate.

His vocal cords betray him from time to time, and some words come out trembling, showing that behind that certainty hides a rather fragile wandering samurai inside, moved by thousands of feelings, that no matter how hard he tries, he can't ignore.

gorou.

I've said it thousands of times in other posts but he's 100% wagging his tail around you uncontrollably.

And when he's telling you how he feels about you, he wags his tail nervously from side to side, with his ears down and fiddling with his fingers.

Literally can't sit still and can't keep up the appearance of General of Watatsumi's troops next to you.

If his comrades saw him act that way with you, he would surely be the subject of many jokes and would be Inazuma's laughing stock, or so he thinks.

Back on topic. Before you can answer his confession, Gorou will be out of sight. He may be far away, hiding, and thinking about what he just did while mentally smacking himself.

“I'm an idiot coward! Why did I run away? Y/n probably hates me now. I should come back and apogize later. Owww, I've ruined everything.”

We all know he's a cute whiny boy. We love him either way.

© Do not use, translate or repost this work on any site.

[orionhere]

Kamui & Camu's Launch Day CN Message and Gift

Happy birthday to our two precious babies!!! 🎂🎉🎁🥳 I want to draw something for them, but sadly I can't bc busy with works😥 So instead, I tried to translate their message and gift!

(Again, please excuse my grammar and mistranslation if there's any, I've just started to learn mandarin😅)

Mission Notice!

Commandant, it’s been a long time! It’s the first time I’ve communicated with you like this….. What’s it called? “Mail”?

Whatever! It’s pretty much the same anyway, but the feeling of waiting for a response is quite refreshing.

The captain informed that there was a mission to assist the commandant alone, so I immediately took it! The thought of fighting alongside you, fills my body with power!

I’m already looking forward to it! No matter what the mission is, it was all fun with the commandant!

By the time you receive this message, I’m already on my way to the location! It’s time to show you how awesome I am after I’ve grown!

Hehe, see you later!

From: Kamui’s Mail No.1

-------------------------------------------------

Commandant, I’m so happy!

So today’s "mission" was actually a surprise for my launch day! Although I have a little guess, I didn’t expect such a surprise!

And also, you guys’ gift for my launch day, I’ve really been wanting it for a long time! Someone must have seen my browsing history, who is it? Is it the captain? Wanshi? Or…. you, commandant?

I—will—-definitely won’t forget this day!

By the way, do you also have a surprise for Camu? I’m so excited to see how he’ll react! Hehe~

Oh, right, commandant, speaking of gifts, I also have something for you! Although I didn’t make it myself, it's one of my collections that I have treasured for a long time— The Great Sword of Courage! Isn’t it cool!

I’ve been wanting to pick a good time to give it to you sincerely, but it’s always at a bad time, so this time, I can finally take this opportunity to give it to you!

In the world of war, the constructs are warriors, and so are you. When we were charging ahead, Commandant is a warrior, trying your best to protect us from behind, and with that thought, it gave me courage to fight against the future.

Ahem…. Although it’s a bit strange to say thank you so formally, I still want to say thank you, Commandant. Not only for the launch day surprise you gave me today, but it’s also to thank you for protecting the world and us.

From: Kamui’s Mail No.2

Sword and Warrior

Attached with Kamui’s launch day letter, later will be stored in the Commandant’s secret corner.

A weapon that was used most often by the hero in the RPGs prevalent in the Golden Age, but this peripheral model was discontinued a long time ago, it’s something that Kamui himself treasures. The sword is engraved with a line: All in war with time.

He has given you his love, courage and faith along with this sword, without reservation.

-------------------------------------------------

Hmm…. Ahem.

I knew such an event must be your idea, although Kamui and my launch day are on the same day, but unexpectedly that guy didn’t care that much about the date either.

Although I feel like he must be quite expecting some kind of surprise.

Ahem, I didn’t expect you to prepare a special dish for this event…. Even thought it looks stupid, it tastes pretty good, much better than what Chrome, Kamui, and Wanshi did.

Also….. Thank you for the cake you brought, the sweetness of the cream….. It’s been a long time since I’ve tasted it.

It’s been a while since we’ve gotten together like this, the occasional get-togethers like this don’t seem to be annoying as I originally thought.

Is it because I’ve been in this place too long that I've become weak, or is it something else? I can’t believe I feel the world is not so annoying….

Tsk, I originally ordered dinner, but since you ruined my plan, these cheap meals are for you, no need to thank me too much.

From: Camu’s Mail No.1

-------------------------------------------------

———Don’t eat what was in that lunchbox!

Oi! Are you an idiot? How can you put anything in your stomach?!

Thankfully, I found out in time, or else I would have been court-martialed for “murdering a commandant”.

The lunchbox just now….. Ahem, you guys cook something to celebrate my launch day, so I don’t think cooking looks that complicated.

But…. that first box of fried rice burnt a little, I intended to throw it and buy some more, but I took the wrong lunch box…. Who knew that you would eat it!

Ahem, I don’t think you ate any of it so far. This time, I packed a lunch box with the Golden Egg and Hell Rice and Cheese Biscuits from the restaurant at the commercial district, something I had planned to eat tonight, and I already checked that it should be okay.

Is it just me? This launch day is a mess. But…. It feels like it’s coming together.

…..Well, after causing the trouble, it seems like there's going to be some "compensation" to make up for it?

There’s a new restaurant I want to try, so I’ll use you as a guinea pig. I’ve made dinner reservations for the next week, and I’ll be waiting for you there every day at dinner time.

See you tomorrow.

From: Camu’s Mail No.2

Lunch box

Attached with Camu’s launch day letter, later will be stored in the Commandant’s secret corner.

The lunchboxes distributed by Babylonia, unique and iconic with Camu’s secondary creation. The heat-insulating alloy material provides excellent insulation, the first layer of the lunchbox is crammed with a few cheese biscuits, the second layer was filled with Camu’s favorite Golden Eggs and Hell Rice, which indeed look like Camu had packed a dinner for himself. But if it’s true that Camu is preparing to eat it himself, why didn’t he add the double spice he always asked for?

Yes, Kamui's gift really said 'love'. It's literally written 热爱 which mean 'deep affection' or 'deep love'.

[min-jpg]

Haii! Can I request a oneshot of a adepti reader having unresolved sexual tensions with Zhongli? like the reader visits him at the parlor only to confront him about his death and the gnosis then they have rough/angry sex hehe can it also be fluff at the end? hehe sorry if its a bit confusing thank u in advance tho and have a great day! 💖

Note: no need to be sorry, anon! 💖 This was quite fun to write. I'm making the reader gender neutral since it's not mentioned. Enjoy!

---

take me whole

Characters: Zhongli x Adeptus GN!reader

Genre: smut/NSFW, established relationship, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, penetration (reader receiving), cussing, fingering, biting, size kink, breeding kink, dacryphilia, overstimulation (contains spoiler of Liyue's archon quest)

---

The sun began to depart. Orange and purple hues that adorned the sky will soon dissipate when night settles in. It was already closing time for Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. After Zhongli finished his delegated duties, he got ready to leave for the day.

Zhongli shuts the door behind him. As he was about to turn around, your hands slammed beside him, confining him in between. Turning fully to look at you, he donned a calm demeanor as usual. Your eyes, practically seething with anger, stared back at his gentle eyes, "How could you do this without discussing it with any of us?"

Crashing both your fists on his chest and throwing a petulant tantrum, your eyes began to flood with tears. Lowering your gaze to deter Zhongli from seeing them, "Did you think we- I wouldn't be worried? When I heard about your death, my mind went deranged. And your gnosis? What were you thinking of giving it away like a free gift?!" Your fist drums in frustration, trying to pursue after the rhythm of your ramble.

Zhongli reached out to catch your wrists, causing you to flinch and trying to wriggle them away. His gloved fingers slid up to meet yours and lacing them together, "I must honor my contract with the Tsaritsa."

"Cut the bullshit. You're just making an excuse. You're nothing but a coward." Glaring at him, you knew it was irrational to have your anger influence you when he had his reasons. But your turmoil continues to accumulate. You needed something or someone to condemn it all on. Bearing so much exasperation caused your mind to be hazy, you failed to notice that your tears began to scatter.

Zhongli leaned down, kissing away your beads of tears like they were so precious to him. He then lowered to give you a proper kiss, having you taste the lingering saltiness from your tears. He pulled away, "Have you had enough and calmed down, love?"

Grabbing his hand, your feet tread heavily to the side of the building engulfed by shadows as night descends, dragging Zhongli along with, "You're going to have to give me more than that to make up for what you've done."

You wasted no time. After pushing him back to the wall, you stripped away your lower garment to display your eager sex that desperately pleaded for Zhongli. As you pulled down the latter's pants, "In public? Are you sure?" Zhongli placed his hand on your shoulder.

Propping one of your legs up beside his hip, you seized his cock to align it with your throbbing mess, "Shut up." You hissed as you pressed the tip up your entrance without proper preparation.

Your yearning outweighs any patience left in you to wait any longer. Jolts of pain shot up your body as your entrance strived to cater for something that large. Tears welled up again, both due to the discomfort and your neediness.

Zhongli sighs as he could no longer watch. After he helped your leg down back to the ground, he bit the end of his glove to slip it off, "Turn around for me."

You did as told, huffing that you even took orders from him. Zhongli's arm made its way around your waist to hold you firmly as you feel him lean closer, breath brushing your neck. His fingers roamed around your aching hole before inserting two in, "You should have patience. That would make the experience more pleasant for the both of us."

"Don't tell me what to do- ahh!" A gasp of pleasure is induced from you when his finger hits a favorable spot. It finally registered in your head that you stood on the streets of Liyue Harbor half-naked. Embarrassment settled in, having your hands hover to your mouth to push back the noises.

Zhongli's harden cock grinds against the back of your thigh as his fingers tortured your sensitive hole, spreading his fingers apart to loosen it up. He removed your hands away from your face, "Why are you suddenly shy now, hmm?" His low voice grumbles, sending your body shivering in anticipation. You knew he wants this as much as you do.

Your words integrated with moans that you tried to overcome, "Who said I'm-" Zhongli hindered you with his other fingers shoved into your mouth, retaining them broad open, "Then let people hear."

Before you could protest, Zhongli withdrew out his fingers from your hole before he bent you over to load you up with his erection without granting you a moment to accommodate. Whining as his full length railed into you, your lower half contradicted by clenching tightly around his girth. As pain harmonized with pleasure washing over you, gritting your teeth resulted in sinking them into his fingers instead.

As you occasionally sucked on his fingers, Zhongli worked his way to accelerate his thrusts. Your muffled moans and saliva drenched them. Zhongli groans, "Mm, you feel so good." His amber orbs glowed dimly in the dark as he watched his cock glistening with your wet arousal each time he moved in and out.

Your back arched, panting out obscene sounds and producing squelches every time he ramps his huge cock strenuously into you. Incoherently, you wailed out your frustration, "I.. hate you!" Cheeks stained with your tears.

You hear Zhongli heave a sigh of contentment behind you, "I love you."

Feeling your stomach churn with pleasure and hearing his words, your voice gradually amplified in volume, no longer caring if any citizens passing by could overhear how dirty you are, "I said, ngh, I hate you."

"Haa, your body disagrees." Your reaction was a trigger for him to exert more force in his thrusts, baring himself from any constraints of holding back.

Your body jerked forward, nails jabbing into his arm, "Wait! T-too much!" You lolled out your tongue, only able to afford for your body to convulse and succumb your whole being to Zhongli, "Fuck! I can't-"

Zhongli pressed kisses on your nape, lapping away the film of sweat and leaving harsh bites to imprint your skin, "Yes, you can."

Nearing climax, your body trembles uncontrollably with honest mewls making their way to Zhongli's ears. He was catching up as well, feeling his thrusts growing sloppy.

Grunting, he kept his cock burrowed deep in you as he ejaculated, presenting his seed inside you. Your eyes rolled back, body going through a series of spasms with the sensation of his semen warming and saturating you to the brim. His cum leaked, trickling down in between your quivering legs.

Zhongli squeezed your body lovingly with both arms, continuing to thrust into you with a fervent pace even after the both of you came, hoping to plunge his seed further inside you, "I love you." He repeats earnestly. Your body turned restless with your voice becoming hoarse, "E-enough..."

"I thought you wanted more? I'm giving you what you want until you forgive me." Zhongli had you face him by drawing your chin gently.

"Enough already, idiot. I don't actually hate you... I'm sorry." Your confidence and voice drop. Averting your gaze, your lips tightened together when he stared at you.

Giving a fond smile, he gave you a quick peck, "What say you, we continue this back at home?"

Kissing back, "Only if you promise to take care of me later on."

[travellingarmy]

║Zhongli║Family Outing

Requested from Wattpad.

Female reader as requested.

Fluff.

Word count: 2.3k

---

Even when it was just the two of you, you were expected to bring mora, so why would that change when there is an added person into the family?

"Mommy, Mommy! Look here, I finally tie it on my own!" A little rascal came running to your room with booming footsteps echoing down the hall, where you were still getting ready, showing you their poorly tied tie. You look over at the door and let a little chuckle before walking towards the smaller male who was quite the unique set of eyes and kneeling down to his level. "Wow, it looks good!" you praised, fixing the bowtie for him, earning a cute, little laugh from him.

The little rascal whose bowtie you were trying to fix was none other than your child, Qian. Qian was a unique child as he had features that normal humans don't have.

A second set of footsteps came echoing down the halls and stopped at your door. You look up and see your dearest husband, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed and an unshakeable smile on his lips as he stares at the two most precious beings in the world. "Not going to mention how I helped you, I see." The older male chuckles. Qian turns his head to look up at his father before looking back at you again. "Oh yeah! Daddy taught me how to tie it, hehe," the adorable, little boy adds.

You laugh at the added statement and stood up. "Alright, should we go now?" you ask to which both of the males nodded- one with excitement. "Oh, right, Qian, make sure you hide your horns." You look at the two sets of horns that rested on top of the little boy's head.

As said before, the reason why Qian is unique is that he was a mix of a mortal and god-- yours and Zhongli's.

"Oopsies! I didn't know." He quickly retracted his horns so that they were no longer visible. His eyes, however, remained the same glowing amber eyes just like his father's; a truly unique set of eyes that makes him differ from everyone else along with his hair, and also the fact that he had the same immortality as his father.

You walked over to the door where Zhongli wrapped an arm around your waist and gave you a quick kiss on the lips. "Ew, that's gross!" Qian covers his eyes with his hands as he said so, making both you and Zhongli laugh at the little action. "Can we go now? I want toys and books!"

"Alright, we can go now. Come, grab mommy's hand," you said and offer him a hand for him to hold onto. He uncovers his eyes and reaches for your hand, feeling the warmth from his tiny hands and fingers trying to cover most of it. Zhongli went to the other side of him and held his other hand and left the house.

"Mommy, mommy! Look at the doggies!" Qian points at the two dogs that watch the inner part of the bridge, giggling as the dogs wag their tails and walking closer to the young boy. He let go both of his hands from either of yours and Zhongli's grasp and went over to the dogs, ruffling their furs. You smiled before turning to your husband, "Can you watch over Qian while I buy a few things?" Not wanting to take Qian away from the dogs, you relied on Zhongli.

He nods and places a kiss on your head. "Of course," Zhongli says. On every outing, you would take this as a chance for grocery shopping. It was hard to keep the fridge at home full especially when you had a little tyke that sneaks into the kitchen for snacks.

Not wanting to overfill the fridge, you bought only the necessary things that you have fully noted down on a paper along with snacks for Qian. He- although has the same mindset as his father's and a bit of his knowledge- could be quite the handful when he doesn't get his snacks-- throwing tantrums when he wants things. But that was just how kids were and there is nothing else you could do to appease them.

"Mommy, where did you go?" Qian asks when you returned with a bag, still playing with the dogs. "Just went to buy food," you answered, smiling as Zhongli offers to take the bag from your hands. A gentleman, he was.

"What about snacks?" He leapt up excitedly, walking away from the dogs to clung onto your dress. "I wouldn't dare forget them," you replied, seeing his eyes light up happily, then hugging your legs. "You're the best, Mommy!" You rolled your eyes. "So, I'm the best when I buy you your snacks, huh?" you ask, feigning offence and pick him up to meet your eyes. He shakes his head frivolously and re-worded his words, "Mommy is the best even when she doesn't buy Qian snack!" He kisses your cheeks and you giggled.

"What about me?" Zhongli speaks up, pointing at himself as he waits in expectance. Giggling, Qian reaches out for his father who happily engulfed him in a warm hug. The little boy then places a kiss on Zhongli's cheek and smiled. "There! Daddy gets a kiss too, so don't be sulky anymore." Zhongli chuckles and places a kiss on his son's cheeks as well.

"Where would you like to go, Qian?" Zhongli asks, carrying him with one hand as he holds the bag with the other. "Toys!" he exclaims, eyes glimmering with stars. Chuckling, the three of you made your way to a toy shop where Zhongli put Qian down to roam the store, excitedly picking a lot of toys. "Qian, you can only pick two things, okay? You already have a lot back home," you reminded, sweat dropping.

"B, but Qian really likes them..!" He pouts, giving you his doll-like eyes as he pleads. It was something that he always does and was very effective. You felt an imaginary punch to your stomach, picturing your soon-to-be empty wallet, but you just didn't know how to say no to such a face. You cranked your head to your side, looking at your husband who stood idly by cluelessly, hinting him to help.

He notices your graved face and immediately understood and clears his throat. "Qian, mora, you see, may just be a materialistic thing that one can obtain, but obtaining it is much harder than you realize, so mortals always make note of things called prices that requires mora. By doing so, they can save extra mora for other needed things," he lectures, though it doesn't seem that Qian understood what his father told him.

"Mommy can go get more, right?" he asks, clearly not understanding what Zhongli had said. "Money shouldn't be thrown around carelessly, sweetie," you spoke, kneeling to his level and placing a hand on his shoulder, his bright eyes reflecting off of yours. "Okay.. But we can come back to buy them, right?" Qian asks, to which you nodded. "Then, Qian will pick these two! Mr. Cyclops is cool!"

You look at the toy in his hand, knowing that it was a very popular toy from Snezhnaya. The toy maker was also very popular amongst children, so it was understandable seeing Qian choosing the toy. You stood up and ruffled his head before turning to place a kiss on Zhongli's cheeks. "It wasn't the best explanation, but it did make him choose two," you say and walked off to pay for the toys.

"Mommy, mommy, I'm hungry!" Qian tugs on your hands after so much walking. "Well, it is the afternoon.. Where does Qian want to go?" you ask. "I want to eat where that fire-breathing teddy bear is!" he says almost immediately, showing his enthusiasm. "Ah, Wanmin Restaurant it is." You chuckled, knowing he meant Guoba.

"Hello, welcome to Wanmin Restaurant! Please, sit wherever you like!" Xiangling greets. Qian's smile grew wider when his eyes landed on the girl and ran up to her as you and Zhongli walked to an empty table. "Miss, can I see Mr. Fire-breathing Bear?" he asks, tugging her clothes. "Oh, of course, Qian!" the female giggles and takes Guoba out. On every outing, Wanmin Restaurant was one of the places Qian loves to go and that's because of Xiangling's Guoba. He would never go to another restaurant even when suggested.

Xiangling sat her bear on the extra seat around your table- right beside Qian- and look towards you and Zhongli. "Please, take your time to look over the menu! Oh, I've also added new dishes that children might like," Xiangling says enthusiastically before leaving the table to tend to other customers.

After choosing lunch, Xiangling makes off to the kitchen and leave the three of you plus Guoba to chat for a while. "Mr. Fire-breathing Bear is cute!" Qian states, touching the bear. "Mommy, can Qian have one too?" He turns to look at you.

"Ah.. Of course!" you say, giving him a close-eyed smile. It was a good thing that Guoba was behaving on order or else it could hurt someone.

"Here are your orders!" Xiangling returns as quickly as she went, the order in her hands and places it on the table. "And a little snack for little Qian!" she says. Qian giggles and thanked her before she excused herself once more, bringing her Guoba along.

After that, you just strolled around the city until sunset and eyed interesting things, making sure that neither Qian nor Zhongli went off on their own for things they've found an interest in. It was indeed fun, but it almost felt like you had to babysit Zhongli as well who almost always wanders around to buy things without preparing money with him.

"Mommy, how come Daddy isn't allowed to bring money with him?" Qian asks, running along the edge of the docks, pretending that his Mr. Cyclops can fly. Zhongli was certainly caught by surprise and a tint of pink was seen on his face as he forcefully coughs onto his fist-- most likely embarrassed for the reason. You snickered, eyeing the man from the side of your eyes before looking over to the little boy. "He is bad at managing money, so that is why mommy has them. And also because daddy always forgets to bring his money," you answered. "When he was courting me, I had to pay for most things to which he will pay by taking me out for dinner." It was only times that Zhongli can date onto a calendar, that he will remember to bring money. Other than that? Expect to bring your wallet.

"How did daddy manage to marry mommy like that?" he asks, surprised and draws his full attention to the two of you. "Well, daddy has other charms to look at. He's especially good in b--" Zhongli immediately covers your mouth, knowing full well of what you were about to say. "I would take whatever means necessary to marry your mother-- mora aside, of course," Zhongli states, hearing you laugh from beside him, though having a mouth over you.

You remove his hand to add on but was then cut off by putting a hand over your mouth. He laced his arm around your waist and draws you close before removing the hand and placing a kiss on your cheek. "I'm just kidding. You know I will never say that," you say, giggling at his attempt to shut you up.

"Ew, daddy is kissing mommy!" Qian spoke, drawing your attention to the young boy. "It was just a kiss on the cheek.." you say. "That is still kissing!" Qian defends.

You chuckled. "Alright, come here, Qian. It's time to go home and make dinner," you say, outstretching a hand for him to hold. He excitedly runs towards you and grabs hold of your free hand, your other being held by Zhongli.

After dinner, you all sat in the living room for some more family bonding time, Qian now presenting his horns as he plays with his new toys along with his old ones. But it didn't take long for the hours to pass before looking at the clock and decided that it was time for Qian to go to sleep.

"Alright, Qian, time to go to sleep," you say. "But I still want to play with Mr. Cyclops.." He pouts. "You can play with Mr. Cyclops tomorrow, okay? He won't leave," you assured. He was a bit reluctant, but soon allowed you to pick him up to bring him to his bedroom, Zhongli trailing behind.

You helped him change into sleepwear and tuck him nicely under the blanket, then turning on the lamp on his bedside table and turning off the light before returning to sit on the edge of his bed. "Good night, Qian. Let mommy and daddy see you in your dreams," you say softly and kiss his forehead. "Good night.. Mommy.." With that, his eyelids fell heavy, drifting him off to dream land.

You stood up and turn to look at the door, seeing Zhongli's eyes glowing much brighter in the dark room. One more look at Qian before you made your way to Zhongli who waited outside the hall, leaving the door slightly open as usual.

"I'm tired." You yawned, wiping a tired tear from the corner of one of your eyes. Zhongli chuckles lowly and caught you by surprise by picking you up, bridal style. "Then, it must be time for my dear to sleep as well," Zhongli says, smiling down at you as he walks to yours and his bedroom where he lies you down and crawling to the other side of the bed, getting underneath the blanket with you.

You muzzled into his chest, letting him wrap his strong arms around you closely and engulfing you in his warmth. "Good night, my dear." He kisses your forehead. You hummed, tired, and said, "Good night, my love."

---

[nad-zeta]

Vincent - Better together

Fandom: Ikevamp

Pairings: Vincent x Reader

Genre: Fluffffff

Words: 1100+

Comments: Eeeeep so ill let yall guess who this is for hehe! Eeeek so excited! Whooop Whooop! //dances around ❤❤ ❤😳🥺! 🥺😳❤🌈

.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’･ﾟ｡.*:・’ﾟ: ｡.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:

Oh, how you were truly a sucker for getting roped into all sorts of time-consuming tasks. You were too kind, honestly, and you worked far too hard. Your latest task? To grade the various exams of the learners attending the makeshift school founded by Napoleon and Isaac. To be honest, it wasn’t even your task to start with; it was fostered onto as the result of a bet lost.

Lessons had been learned the hard way, NEVER EVER challenge Arthur to a friendly wager, as you would be so lucky to leave with more than the socks on your feet. Regardless, the task allocated to him was now shifted to you, unfortunate really, but alas, what were you to do.

You sat at your writing desk burning that good ol midnight oil, clock tick ticking away. Naturally, neither Napoleon nor Isaac wanted to grade the students’ papers as that would be too biased—or that was the lame excuse they used—but you knew the truth.

Not that you minded this kind of work, it reminded you of your part-time job back home, the fond memories washing over you of helping out lecturers and students alike.

But this, this was different, this was hell! You must have read the first paper over and over, hells if you could only understand what was written. Chemistry, math, and the theory of relativity. Just how old were these kids, heck you studied these subjects at a university level and still, the words seemed like gibberish?

After the third paper, you were practically banging your head on the table in frustration; the least they could have done was given you a decent memo to follow. Losing all hope and succumbing to the darkness, it appeared as though the universe had heard your silent prayers and sent to you your very own ray of sunshine.

The soft knocks at the door were like a God sent, with Vincent peeking into your room, gentle blue eyes finding your own, ”oh, if you’re busy, I can always come back later,” his soft voice spoke with hints of hopefulness. 'NO NO NO, don’t leave me alone with these papers. I might just go mad', you wanted to shout out in desperation, but instead, you shot a weak smile over in his direction, gesturing for him to come inside.

“Nah, I’m just grading these papers, but if you are not busy, I’d love the company,” you offered, hoping, nay, praying he would stay. It had been a while since the two of you had spent some time together, with him being busy with painting and you, well, we all know Sabastian is a slave driver.

You mentally danced for joy when Vincent indeed did take up residence beside you, curious china blues gazing at the papers sprawled before you. “Need some help?” he offered, picking up one of the papers to examine the contents.

“How much do you know about maths and science?” you prompted

Vincent scratched the back of his neck, blue eyes never once losing their sparkle. ”Nothing! But I’m willing to learn or help out any way I can,” he affirmed cheerfully, tilting his head to the side, trying to decipher the string of numbers and letters.

His sunny features clouded over the longer he looked at the paper, and you could tell he was just as much out of his depth as you were.

Just then, an idea popped into your head, ”oh, I know! How about I mark, and you count them up and write the final score!”

“I can do that!!” he exclaimed happily, clouds dispersing and sunshine illuminating the room once more.

And so you marked and Vincent... drew?

You watched Vincent from the corner of your eyes, counting up the marks and charting them down in a little circle. His brows furrowed in concentration, voice barely above a whisper, letting go of a little sigh, “oh, this won’t do.” Honestly, his hands moved to their own accord sketching out cute little doodles next to the circled score.

You noticed he had been taking a while with each test handed to him, but you assumed he just double/triple checked his counting and final tallying of the scores. Not thinking much of it at the time, it was only after the last test was marked and handed off to him that your eyes dared to drift across the table to see what he was up to.

They widened slightly in surprise as you struggled to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “Cent? What are you drawing,” came the curious question, after watching him doodle out the smiling sunflower with the words’ Good Job’ neatly written beneath

Vincent’s face bloomed into a bright smile as he proudly held up the newest motivational doodle, “well,” he started to trail off, “you know how some of the students did really badly?”

You nodded, humming thoughtfully as you urged him to continue,” I just thought it would make them sad to see they did so terribly, so I decided a little sketch might cheer them up.”

Oooh, bless his little angel heart, for only Vincent could be so sweet. You smiled back at him, eyes falling to each of the papers to take in the various little motivational sketches and messages left for the students to find. Although soon, your eyes found one test in particular that piqued your interest.

A test in which the student managed to score a near-perfect score, you held up the paper in confusion, “but, what about this one?”

“Ah, well, you see, I thought it would make the students who achieved top scores happy to receive a little sketch in acknowledgement of their hard work,” he continued to beam with pride.

You chuckled, shaking your head, “so what you’re saying is everybody gets a doodle?”

“Jip”

You almost had to laugh; it reminded you so very much of an Oprah show. You get a sketch; you get a sketch; everybody gets a sketch. “You are honestly too cute, Vincent,” you beamed at him, collecting the paper into a neat pile, shaking your head with a chuckle.

Vincent returned your smile with a sunny one of his own, taking your hand in his and squeezing it affectionately. “You are the cute one,” he said in all seriousness, bumping his shoulder against yours playfully.

You rested your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and simply enjoying the moment. After a few seconds, you peeked your eyes open to gaze up at him, “hey, vincent? Thanks so much for helping.”

With a brush of his soft lips against your forehead, he spoke tenderly, closing his eyes as he reaffirmed his love for you. “I promised you, didn’t I? Whenever there is a problem, I will always be there to help find a solution together.”

[hrina]

In The Ring, Pt. IV - Uppercut

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 10.6k REQUESTED: yes! 

well lads................this is it 🥺🥺🥺 thank u guys so much for all the love you’ve given this series. i would’ve never expected to receive such a positive response, but u guys rly went above and beyond. i adore u all so much 

warning: parts of this fic will contain mentions of blood, violence, mild stalking, and sexual content. if any of that makes you uncomfortable, please take care of yourself and keep scrolling <3

as always, my masterlist and my inbox are both linked in my bio! i worked really hard on this last part! i wanted to make sure it was all perfect, so i hope everyone enjoys it. gentle reminder to reblog the fics you like! it’s a great way to show appreciation as well as give authors more exposure. ok that’s all hehe can’t wait to hear your thoughts! take care 💙💙💙

PART I: Jab

PART II: Cross

PART III: Hook

~*~

    March 20, 2021

Harry keeps his promise, and Artie brings your car back around to your place the next day. You sit up straight at the table when you hear the familiar honking of a horn sound from outside. Your feet suddenly seem to have a mind of their own, carrying you out of the kitchen quickly with your father’s confused inquiries ringing in your ears. You open the front door before Artie even has the chance to knock.

“Thanks, Jason,” you tell him, breathless.

He hands you your keys and accepts the quick hug that you bestow upon him. “No problem, little girl. Is everything alright?”

Harry didn’t tell him.

“Yeah,” you lie, nodding. “I just—I had a bit too much to drink last night, that’s all.” Your voice drops an octave. “Don’t tell my dad, okay?”

Artie presses two of his fingertips together and drags them over the seam of his mouth, metaphorically sealing his lips. You smile, your heartbeat returning to its regular pace beneath the confines of your ribs.

You step back, extending an arm and gesturing for him to enter.

“Are you hungry? We were in the middle of eating lunch.”

“Sure,” he says, kicking off his shoes and arranging them against the wall. “Thank you.”

He and your father talk about anything and everything during the meal—boxing, the economy, the basketball game that had aired late last night. You just sit there and eat your food, not wanting to attract any unnecessary attention.

They include you in the conversation for a bit—Artie asks how classes are going, and you tell him that you’re waiting for medical school acceptance (or rejection) letters to start rolling in. Other than that, they don’t bat an eye when you rinse your plate in the sink and politely excuse yourself from the table. You hide behind the fact that you have to work on an assignment that’s due in a week—the paper is worth a third of your grade and it’s crucial that you ace it.

But once you hobble back into your room, you’re crawling into bed and pulling the covers up over your head. You reach around blindly for your phone, snatching it up from where it’s charging on your nightstand. You unlock the device, scrolling through all of the grey messages that pop up right away—sent last night, one after the other, each of them unanswered, growing more and more desperate as the hours pass.

Can we please talk about this?

I’m sorry, please let me explain.

Are you ignoring me?

I know you’re seeing these. Please respond.

And then a final one, dejected and crestfallen, laced with palpable weakness even through the pixels of your screen.

Goodnight.

    April 6, 2021

Harry’s on a losing streak.

A five-match losing streak, to be precise.

He’s never been bested this many times in a row. Your father is baffled by it, unsure of why he’s been so distracted in the ring. It’s even more confusing, he thinks, considering the fact that he’s at the gym every single day, lifting weights, practicing his technique, throwing himself into the sport. But once the actual fights roll around, things change. You’re not there, and you’re his lucky charm, and because of that, he finds himself meeting the ground far more often than he’d like to admit.

Your father said that the end of the semester was approaching—as a consequence, you were buckling down with school. Harry supposes that the timing is right, so the pretext must be true. But his opponents don’t know that (nor would they care). Your absence doesn’t stop them from knocking him down with snarling faces and heavy fists. The crowds holler loudly, goading him to get back up, but Harry doesn’t. He refuses to give them the satisfaction of watching him get beaten to a bloody pulp.

He stopped trying to reach out to you a week after the night of the kiss. He composed several texts a day, but each message had been met with silence. He remembers staring down at his phone one time, watching as three grey dots wiggled on the screen for a minute or two before disappearing entirely.

That’s when he gave up. If you didn’t want to talk, fine.

It hurt like hell, though.

And it’s still hurting like hell, even a week and a half later.

You told your father about James. He had mentioned it in passing to Harry, having to end practice earlier than usual because he had to set a court date to deal with some bastard who wouldn’t leave you alone. And that’s comforting, Harry thinks, because at least he knows that you’ll be safe, now.

He just wishes that he could’ve been the one to bring you that bit of solace.

That’s why, when your father invites him over for dinner one night after a particularly strenuous evening of training, he jumps at the opportunity. You’re making lasagna, your father says, having taken a break from studying for exams. Harry agrees to come over, because it’s been a while since he’s had a real, curated, love-infused, home-cooked meal.

And because you’ll be there, too, obviously. But he refrains from letting that incentive slip loose.

His heart is racing nervously when he parks his truck in front of your house. Memories flood his brain, reminding him of what had happened the last time he’d been here—the glint of your necklace under his fingers, the alluring twinkle in your eyes. The softness of your lips against his, the sensation of your nails carding through his hair—

Your father taps on the window of the driver’s seat.

“H?” he says, muffled through the glass. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” Harry chokes out, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding out of the vehicle. “Yeah, sorry.”

He follows your father up the porch steps, waiting anxiously as the other man unlocks the front door. It swings open; they both step inside. Harry’s eyes widen when your father calls out, “Gioia? I’m home!”

“Hi!” comes your reply.

He freezes when the sound reaches his ears, because he hasn’t heard your voice—much less seen you—in over two weeks. He shuts the door discreetly, removing his shoes and trailing after your father as he pads down the hall. The closer he draws to the kitchen, the more he can smell it—meat, spices, cheese. His stomach rumbles in anticipation.

“Hope you made enough for three,” your father says, entering the room.

Harry lingers behind you, leaning against the wide threshold with his arms crossed protectively over his chest. He’s still a bit sweaty, but he hopes that the lasagna in the oven will mask the musky scent of the perspiration gleaming on his skin.

“Three?” you ask. You’re standing at the sink, your back to them. “Hi, Jason.”

A beat of silence passes, and then—

“Er, not exactly,” Harry grunts.

You stiffen immediately before spinning around. He doesn’t miss the quiet little gasp that leaves your mouth.

Your gaze locks with his, lips parted in surprise, and he can’t help but wonder if coming here was the smartest or the most foolish decision he’s ever made.

~*~

He and your father set the table.

After a few minutes, three plates and three collections of cutlery are laid out over a pristine white cloth. Harry eases into his chair as you carry over a hot tray of lasagna, your hands sheathed in a pair of red oven mittens. You put the pasta down in front of your father, who is sat at the head of the table. He inhales deeply, a small smile forming on his face.

“Smells amazing, sweetheart,” he tells you, nodding in approval. “Even better than your mother’s.”

“That’s a lie,” you tease, chuckling quietly and removing the crimson gloves from your fingers. You cut a large piece from the platter and deposit it onto his dish. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” he says.

He waits patiently as you separate another chunk of pasta for Harry, setting it down on his plate without a word.

“Thank you,” Harry tells you, his voice hoarse.

“You’re welcome,” you say. The response is short, painfully clipped—it makes him wince.

As soon as everyone has food in front of them, you sit down in your chair, reaching for the fork and the knife resting a few inches away from your dish. Before you can dig in, however, you pause, lifting your chin and squeezing your eyes shut.

“Shit,” you murmur. “Forgot the drinks.”

“There’s juice in the fridge, I think,” your father says through a mouthful of pasta.

“No.” You wave his suggestion away. “How about some wine? I’ll grab a bottle from the cellar.”

“Alright.” He nods, but then speaks again as you stand. “Wait—I think the treadmill in the basement is blocking the door. Harry—,” Harry’s head snaps up, nostrils flaring at the mention of his name, “—would you mind going with her? She won’t be able to move it by herself.”

“Uh,” he says stupidly. “Yeah, sure.”

He quickly excuses himself from the table, glancing over at you to register your reaction. Your expression is stony, betraying nothing. You swallow heavily, looking away and marching quickly out of the kitchen. He follows you without another word, hot on your heels.

The basement is dimly-lit, stocked with a few shelves of non-perishable foods and household supplies. Harry remains silent as you make your way over to the far wall, approaching the dark grey treadmill pressed against the door of the cellar. You place both hands on the side of the machine, giving it a firm push and grunting when it budges only an inch.

“You going to help me, or what?” you ask, casting an expectant glance at Harry from over your arm.

He blinks. “Right.”

Together, the two of you manage to ease the treadmill a few feet to the left. It’s enough space for you to open the door of the wine cellar and slip inside. Darkness envelopes your bodies, dissolving only when a small click! echoes through the still air. A moment later, the alcove is illuminated in a dull glow, compliments of the scrawny yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling.

You release the thin string attached to the light, turning around and gasping when you find Harry perched directly behind you. Your chests brush together—the contact sends sparks whizzing down his spine. You spin back around quickly, clearing your throat and scanning all of the different bottles balanced on the shelves.

“Thanks for your help,” you say dryly. “You can go back upstairs, now.”

“I’m good,” Harry mutters.

He clasps his hands behind his back as you trail your index finger along dozens of cream-coloured labels. Your hair is gathered in a low ponytail; a few shorter, wispier strands peek out from behind your ears. You’re not wearing makeup, today—and why would you, Harry thinks, when you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen?

“So,” he starts, itching to break the silence, “your dad told me that you’re filing a restraining order against James.”

“Yeah,” you reply curtly. He waits for you to continue, but you say nothing else.

“Feel better now that you’ve come clean?” he questions. Immediately, he knows that it’s the wrong thing to ask. But it’s out there, now, and he can’t exactly take it back.

A hollow laugh tumbles off of your tongue. Behind you, Harry notices the way you shake your head in disdain.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say under your breath.

“What was that?” He cocks an eyebrow challengingly, frowning at your tone.

“I said that you’re ridiculous,” you gripe, whipping around and fixing him with a fiery glare. “Need me to repeat it again?”

“If that means you’ll finally be speaking to me, then yeah, go for it,” he snaps, folding his arms over his chest.

“I—,” you break off, surprised by the bite in his rebuttal. Harry clenches his jaw when you turn back around. Your hand quivers as you reach for a random bottle of red wine. “I’m not doing this with you right now.”

“When, then?” he demands, taking a step closer. His front skims along your shoulder blades, and when you face him once more, your eyes widen in shock at the close proximity of your bodies. The little room suddenly feels much smaller, walls looming forward and closing you in. Your chest swells as you suck in a deep breath.

“When are we finally going to fucking talk about this?” Harry presses, meeting your gaze. Desperation drips from every syllable of his query.

You purse your lips, exhaling raggedly.

“Soon.”

A feeble assent.

An insipid shake of your head.

You angle your torso to the side, easily slipping past him and out of the cellar.

“But not today.”

    April 10, 2021

Your nose is buried in a textbook when the message comes through.

Cell biology. So much information to remember, so many reactions to list, so many molecules to name. And weeks of studying, just for a two-hour-long final that’ll take place three days from now. If you weren’t so stressed out, the sheer nonsensicality of the situation would have made you laugh.

So when your phone chimes with the alert, you figure that it’s time for a break. A quick conversation with one of your friends, maybe. Something to take your mind off of the looming exam, even if it is just for a few minutes at a time. After that, you’ll get back to revising.

Sadly, nothing is ever that simple.

We need to talk. Come to the gym.

Your eyes widen when the words sink in. As you rub your clammy palms against the grey material of your sweatpants, another text pops up below the first.

Please.

You shouldn’t. You need to study. But even as you warn yourself against it, your brain is already coming up with a multitude of reasons to meet with him. It’s just one night. Your exam isn’t for another few days. You have time. You deserve to take a break.

Your keys jingle cheerfully as you toss them into your bag.

~*~

Harry is going to town when you walk into the gym.

You’re not quite sure how that poor punching bag has managed to stay balanced on its hook. Harry’s coming at it from every angle, pummeling the leather with hard, heavy fists. He’s wearing a black tank top today; deep armholes cut into the sides of the fabric and expose most of his torso. The dark tattoos on his skin glisten under a thin sheen of sweat; a small, stupid part of you expects the ink to run and smudge before you remember that the designs are permanent.

What’s even worse? Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande is playing on his phone. The soft, feathery croons of her voice mix with the low grunts that escape Harry’s throat—sounds that claw their way out of him with each blow delivered to the bag. Under normal circumstances, the juxtaposition would have made you snort.

Now though, it just reminds you of that night all those months ago, when you’d asked him to teach you how to box. This entire train wreck could have been avoided if you’d simply kept your mouth shut.

Harry still hasn’t noticed you. How could he, when you’re standing behind him?

You clear your throat. He freezes mid-strike.

His grassy eyes are wide when he turns around.

“Hi,” he says, surprised. “I—I didn’t think you would come.”

“I was halfway here when I realised that I didn’t text you back,” you reply, scratching awkwardly at the nape of your neck. “But, like���no handheld devices behind the wheel, and all that jazz.”

His lips twitch. “Yeah. Good.”

You cross your arms over your chest, scanning your surroundings. You don’t know why you do that—nothing in the gym has changed. You’re just trying to avoid Harry’s gaze, which is a lot easier said than done.

“You, um…you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” He nods, walking over to the ring and pausing the music streaming from his phone.

He then reaches for two pairs of boxing gloves, nestling one in the crook of his elbow and tossing the other at you. The strap of your purse slides from your shoulder as you catch the leather in your arms. You peer down at the gloves, eyes narrowing in confusion before you train them back on him.

“I don’t get it,” you deadpan.

“Really?” Harry asks. He hoists himself onto the raised platform of the ring and slips through the gaps in the ropes. “Because you’ve been begging to go up against me since January. Are you seriously gonna back out now?”

“Go up against—” The rest of your sentence fizzles out. “I…I thought you wanted to have a conversation, not a competition.”

He shrugs, regarding you evenly as he pulls his gloves on and tightens the straps around his wrists. He then bumps his enclosed fists together, tilting his head to the side.

“Why can’t we do both?”

~*~

You look pretty, Harry thinks.

Standing on the far side of the ring, wearing a black tank top, grey sweatpants, and bright pink sneakers—yeah, you look pretty. You’ve cuffed your bottoms so that they’re rolled up to the spot just below your knees, and your hair has been pulled back into a low bun. There’s no emotion on your face as you stare him down, taking a few steps closer and assuming a fighting stance.

You’ve gotten better—he’ll be the first to admit it. But he’s going to beat you, and you both know it. It’s just a matter of when.

He decides that, for the time being, he’ll go easy on you. The two of you will talk things out, and afterward, he might let you win. Maybe. He’s still on the fence about that.

You both begin to move in a circle. After a long moment of silence, Harry says, “You go first.”

“No, you,” you grit out. He just shrugs.

Fine. Have it your way.

You block the straight, pointed jab that he throws, and pride swells up in his chest. It’s a simple punch to deflect, but nevertheless, it tells him that you’ve learned something over these past few months. And that means that he’s done a good job as your teacher.

As your friend…not so much.

Do friends kiss other friends the same way you’d kissed him in front of your house?

He really doesn’t know.

“Right, then,” Harry starts, nodding. “Let’s talk.”

“About what?” you ask. Your nose wrinkles in concentration as you direct a blow toward his stomach. He blocks it easily. “About how you kissed me back and then told me you didn’t have feelings for me?”

“I—,” he’s stunned, because okay, you’re coming right on out with it. “I’m sorry.”

He’s sorry for lying, but you don’t seem to realise that.

“I was so fucking embarrassed,” you say, lunging forward and throwing a cross at his nose. He bats your fist away like it’s nothing more than a pesky fly. “But I guess that I’m mad at myself, too. Here I am, starting to like you, meanwhile I barely know anything about you.”

“What do you want to know?” he asks, keeping his arms in front of his face.

(Deep down, beneath his stoic exterior, he can’t believe what he’s hearing. You had been ‘starting to like’ him? He’s scared, then, because that means he ruined everything that night in his truck. Do you still feel the same way?)

Harry blinks—shakes his head free of those thoughts and continues. “Ask me, and I’ll tell you.”

“Really,” you reply, though it isn’t exactly a question.

You drop your hands, taken aback by his offer. He’s not usually this open—you should seize the opportunity to probe while it’s still available. You will, he thinks. Over these past few months, he’s learned how you operate. You’re not predictable, by any means, but he knows that you can’t resist inquiring about his personal life when given the chance.

You want to know him. If he thinks about it for too long, his affections become exceedingly difficult to bear.

“Really,” he says.

He steps forward and curves his right arm in a powerful hook. You yelp jarringly when the rough leather of his glove makes contact with your left shoulder. He just shrugs, pulling back.

“Remember: don’t let your guard down.”

You clench your jaw and raise your fists once more.

“Fine, then,” you say, sidestepping another one of his jabs. “Where were you born?”

“Redditch, England,” he answers simply. “Moved to Holmes Chapel when I was a kid, though.”

You nod. The two of you continue to circle each other.

“Got any siblings?” you ask, charging him and attempting to deliver a series of punches to his torso. He deflects each of them with his forearms, never faltering.

“A sister,” he says, unbothered. “She lives back home.”

“And what about your parents?” you press, retreating and watching him with careful eyes.

He swallows roughly, shaking his head. “Dad left when I was seven. Mum died when I was fourteen.”

At that, you pause. You heed his earlier advice and keep your hands in front of your face, but it’s clear that his confession has caught you by surprise. Your gaze softens, and he watches as your lips curl down into a sympathetic frown.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him quietly, your shoulders slouching. “That’s terrible.”

He shrugs. “It’s in the past—can’t change it, now.”

He takes advantage of your pitying nature, springing toward you and aiming a punch for your hip. You barely manage to avoid the blow, jumping back at the last second. His glove scrapes swiftly against your side. The attack seems to snap you out of your emotions, because you scowl deeply and return to your original stance.

“What happened after that?” you ask, breathing erratically.

“They put me in foster care,” Harry says, shaking his head. “It was shit, though. I ran away after a couple of years. Went off on my own—that’s when I met your dad.”

“And he started training you?”

“And he started training me,” he confirms with a curt nod. “Couldn’t actually fight until I turned eighteen, but after that…I was taking up as many matches as I could.” He chuckles warmly at the memory. “Your dad said that he’d never seen anything like it. Told me I had to slow down.”

You smile a bit at his words. Your fondness quickly melts into shock, however, when Harry aims a hit for your face. You block the punch, retaliating quickly and throwing one of your own. Your fist makes contact with the barrier of his chest, and he stumbles backward, his eyes widening in disbelief. You got him.

Only once, but still.

You got him.

“Not bad,” he grunts, squaring his shoulders. “Maybe I should actually start trying, now.”

You grit your teeth, glowering at him. “God, you’re such a dick.”

He flashes you a contemptuous grin before lunging forward. You dodge two of his punches, but the third one catches you right in the stomach, making you double over and cough. Harry retreats, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“Done getting to know me?” he simpers.

You shake your head, straightening back up. “Not yet.”

You make a valiant effort, Harry thinks. Your dedication is commendable. But he’s had a decade of training, whereas you’ve only had a few months. Your technique—though improved—is still sloppy. And that’s what allows him to sidestep all of your strikes and react quickly, enough so that he’s got you pinned to the ground in just under two minutes.

You’re panting heavily; one of his forearms holds your crossed wrists down over your head. His other hand is planted on the floor just above your shoulder, the flat front of his boxing glove providing a stable surface to keep him balanced. His knees are next to your waist as he hovers over your stomach, giving you no room to worm out of his grip. You flail your legs in frustration, but he’s perched too high up on your body for the action to do any real damage.

“I win,” he says simply, arrogance dancing in his eyes. He leans down so that your noses are only inches apart. “Any more questions, baby?”

“Just one,” you bite, panting heavily.

He cocks an eyebrow, waiting for the inquiry to leave your lips. Once it does, however, it knocks every molecule of air from his lungs.

“Have you…,” you inhale deeply, “…ever been in love?”

The expression on your face tells him that you know exactly what you’re doing. Your chest heaves with exertion, and when his gaze flickers down to your breasts for only a fraction of a second, your eyes illumine with realisation.

“You want me,” you tell him, breathless. A thin, reflective layer of perspiration has gathered at your hairline. Your arms twitch from where they’re pinned beneath his. Despite the gloves still covering your hands, you grasp at his slippery skin, hoping that the contact will somehow make his already-weak resolve crack and crumble into nothing.

“No,” he says, his voice hard.

His green irises burn into your face. Who is he trying to convince?

“You’re lying,” you wheeze, shaking your head. “You want me.”

Your skin is hot. He can feel you radiating warmth like a fireplace. Heated, cozy, welcoming—it’s everything he loves about you, everything he’s been craving since he first became conscious of how badly he desired you. And, to top it all off, you’re looking at him like that—with eyes that could persuade him to jump from a skyscraper, if you so much as asked.

Just like that.

“Fuck,” Harry spits. He pulls back sharply and stamps his own eyes shut. His nose screws up in frustration. “Fuck.”

And then he’s kissing you.

The elated moan that slips from your lips has his cock twitching fitfully in his shorts. You arch your back to get closer to him, because with his hand still pinning you down, it’s not like you can throw your arms around his neck and bring him to you. The kiss is messy and frenzied and hot and carnal. Harry licks into your mouth, savouring the squeak that echoes in your throat.

You’re vocal—he’s going to fucking die.

When the two of you pull back, no words are exchanged. Harry stares down at you, taking note of how your pupils have dilated immensely. Your chest is still heaving, but this time, it’s for a completely different reason. He releases your wrists from where they’re pinned beneath his forearm, watching you carefully as he sits up.

He lifts his fist to his face and takes the strap of the glove between his teeth. The sharp riiip! that ensues may as well be a starter gunshot.

You both dive back into a sea of teeth and lips and tongue. Harry throws off his gloves easily. You struggle with yours, but he wastes no time, helping you discard them in a matter of seconds. With your hands finally free, you bury them in his hair, pulling at the soft, damp tendrils as he presses several hard kisses to your mouth.

“Fuck,” he mutters, slanting his body downward so that his crotch is level with yours. “You—you have no idea—”

The rest of his sentence fades into a groan when you suck harshly on his jaw. He shudders at the sensation.

Gradually, you bring your legs out from beneath his own, lifting your knees up to your chest and then wrapping your thighs around his waist. It’s an impressive feat, if he’s being honest. And it gives him more room to lean over you, to grind his cock against your centre through the layers of fabric separating your skin.

“Off—,” you choke, tugging at the bottom of his black shirt. “Get this off!”

He complies, sitting back up on his knees and ridding himself of the fabric. You take advantage of his instability, wrapping one hand around his bicep and giving it a hard shove. He topples to the side and you scramble up to straddle him, a small, smug smile ghosting across your face.

“What are you—?” he starts, but you place one finger against his lips, cutting him off.

You start to roll your hips gently into his—he groans, wishing more than anything that there were no clothes in the way. Goosebumps erupt on his arms when you lightly scrape your nails down his bare chest. You settle at the butterfly inked into his abdomen, tracing the insect’s wings with a wondrous look in your eyes. His palms sweep up your thighs.

“Why did you lie to me?” you murmur, keeping your gaze trained on his torso. “You feel the same, don’t you?”

He nods wordlessly.

“Why, then?” you press, frowning gently. “I—we could’ve avoided this whole thing if you’d just told me the truth.”

“Your dad,” Harry says weakly. “I can’t—you’re his—”

“My dad has no control over who I date or who I fuck,” you say. He’s stunned by the crudeness of your claim. “And if I want to fuck you right here, right now, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

“You—Christ,” he swallows heavily, squeezing his eyes shut. “You can’t just say shit like that.”

“Why not?” you smirk, grinding against him harshly and feeling the stiff outline of his cock in his shorts. “You seem to be enjoying it.”

“Fuck,” he grunts. You shriek when he flips the two of you over so that he’s back on top. His nose brushes against yours as he speaks.

“If we do this,” he warns, hot breath fanning out over your chin, “I won’t be gentle. In every single one of my fantasies, I’ve ruined you—made you drool, made you cry. You name it, I’ve done it. You sure you can handle that?”

“Yes,” you breathe, utterly enthralled. “I’m sure.”

Harry tucks a loose piece of your hair behind your ear, peering down at you tenderly.

“Look so pretty,” he coos, fingers skimming down the side of your throat. “Can’t wait to wreck your cute, little—” He sucks in a deep breath, weakened by the shamelessness of his own thoughts. “Gonna make sure your knees knock together once I’m through with you.”

And maybe it’s not smart to get you naked in the middle of the gym, where anyone walking by could easily peer inside and witness him fucking you into oblivion. But he can’t find it in himself to care—he’s been waiting for this moment for years, and damn him if he doesn’t seize it while you’re like this: open, inviting, presented to him like gourmet food on a silver platter.

And speaking of food…

“I’m gonna stretch you out,” Harry states. “You’ve got to cum first if you wanna take my cock, understand?”

You nod rapidly.

He shakes his head. “Need to hear you say it, baby. You want it, too, right?”

“I want it,” you confirm, breathless. “I want it, I understand.”

He smiles. His fingers ruck up the material of your tank top, and you lift your back from the ground to help him remove it. Your bra is next, pale pink with a simple bow resting between the cups. He swears when you unclip it quickly, letting the straps fall down your shoulders before tossing it away.

“Christ,” he says, blinking. “Can’t believe you’re real.”

He lays you back down onto the floor of the ring, ducking his head and enveloping one of your nipples in his mouth. You moan. The bud hardens between his teeth, sensitive to his touch. He sucks harshly before pulling off, littering kisses along the skin of your breasts. His head swims with lust, transforming him into someone nearly unrecognizable. You seem to like it, though, so how bad could it really be?

“Next time,” Harry murmurs into your flesh, “I’m gonna get a proper taste. Eat you out ’til you go blind. But for now—,” he dips his hand past the waistband of your sweatpants, “—my fingers will just have to do.”

You shimmy your bottoms down, kicking them off unceremoniously and spreading your legs. And fuck, he nearly loses it right there, because this is what he’s been picturing for months, if not years. Having you laid out in front of him, exposed and ready and willing. Your thighs stretched wide, miles of soft skin leading inward and morphing into sticky, wet folds. He closes his eyes for a brief moment and inhales deeply—the scent of your arousal floods his nose, rendering him utterly helpless. Something akin to a man unhinged.

He rubs you over your panties, first. They’re nothing special—simple black cotton covering your mound and your hipbones. But fuck him, he wasn’t expecting the ocean of excitement that seems to have pooled and soaked through the fabric. His fingertips are damp when he pulls them away.

“You’re drenched,” he groans, shaking his head in disbelief. He hooks one digit into the elastic of your underwear, looking up at you with inquisitive eyes. “Can I take these off?”

“Yes, please.”

He tears the material down your legs, and then you’re naked beneath him, save for the rose-gold pendant resting on your sternum. He sits back on his heels as you spread your thighs wider, chewing on the inside of your cheek. His index finger taps the skin just below your navel, tracing a path down to where you need him most. You whine when he bypasses your clit completely, dropping instead to gather some of your wetness before trailing back up. He smears your arousal over the nub—just to get a steady, slippery rhythm going—and then leans down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Don’t wanna be too far,” he says sheepishly, sweetly kissing the tip of your nose. “Missed you.”

You seal your lips to his.

He makes you cum after a few minutes, slipping one finger into your channel, and then another. The entire time, his thumb stays perched on your clit, drawing expert circles and pulling wanton moans from your mouth. And when you cum—oh.

Oh.

You’re glorious, with lidded eyes and warm cheeks and teeth bared in pleasure. You ride out your high, spasming gently. Harry lays a firm hand on your stomach, feeling the muscles of your abdomen twitch beneath his palm. He continues to stimulate your clit, basking in the little aftershocks that zip up your spine and make your legs tremble.

If you were aroused before…good fucking God. He didn’t know it was possible for a woman to be this wet.

You kiss him as you come down from your orgasm, nipping softly at his bottom lip and sighing in relief. Both of his hands find your face—you seem unbothered by the fact that his fingers are coated in your juices, smearing messily against your cheek. He melts into you like he’s dying of thirst and you’re an oasis, lush and green and good. So, so good.

“Do you—,” he exhales raggedly, “—do you still want to?”

You nod, a soft smile forming on your face. It’s crazy, Harry thinks, how quickly you can oscillate between actual human sunshine and the devil personified. One minute, you’re asking him to fuck you, and the next, you’re giving him those eyes that make him feel as though every cell in his body has been liquefied.

“What were you saying about not being gentle?” you tease.

He chuckles quietly, shaking his head. You gasp when he hooks a finger into the chain around your neck. He takes your pretty pink pendant between two fingers, lifting it up and dragging the cool metal along the seam of your lips. You inhale sharply.

“I don’t have a condom,” he murmurs, sighing mournfully.

“I have an IUD,” you whisper, playing with the curls at the back of his head. “We’re good.”

He groans, dropping his face into the column of your throat. “You’re fuckin’ marvelous.”

You giggle.

He shudders when you begin to push his shorts down. You look up at him with raised brows when his cock slaps against his stomach, completely unrestrained.

“No underwear?”

“Always sticks to my balls when I get sweaty,” he whines, squeezing his eyes shut. “Need to let the boys breathe.”

A loud laugh flops out of your mouth. Harry snickers, too, trailing his nose up over your jawline so that he can catch your lips in a quick kiss. He moans as you wrap your fingers around his length, giving a few experimental pumps. Instinctively, his hips buck into your grip.

“You’re big,” you murmur. “Are you sure that it’s going to fit?”

“It’ll fit,” he promises.

He guides your legs up so that they’re wrapped around his waist, allowing him to slot himself closer to you. You gasp when his hand finds your cunt again, dipping two fingers inside before sweeping his palm over the length of your folds. He then smears your wetness along the shaft of his cock, makeshift lubrication to facilitate the first breach of your channel.

“You ready?” he says, positioning the tip of his dick at your entrance. “Deep breath for me, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You inhale, and he nudges his hips forward. You gasp as he slips into you, inch by thick inch, stretching you out in a way that you’ve never felt before. Harry reaches for your hands, tangling your fingers together and lifting them above your head. You arch your back with the new position, and he’s unsure of whether you’re trying to wiggle away or bring him in closer.

When the heels of your feet press against his ass, guiding him deeper, he assumes that it’s the latter.

“Fuck,” he stammers as your tight heat surrounds his cock. “How—how do you feel this good?”

A wheezing laugh punches its way out of your throat.

“Feel that,” Harry says hoarsely. “So fuckin’ hot and—and wet. Not gonna take any time at all, is it?”

“For me, or for you?” you taunt. He grumbles quietly, and you snicker.

After a brief moment of silence, you squeeze his knuckles reassuringly. “You can move.”

“Thank you,” he moans, capturing your mouth with his. Your breathing hitches as he pulls out before slowly sliding back in. When you sigh in response, he takes it as encouragement to pick up the pace.

Soon, he’s fucking into you quickly, your skin slapping together in a series of brutal thrusts. With each drive of his hips into yours, soft whimpers escape your lips, floating up into the hot air and melting like ice cream under the sun. Harry growls, sinking his teeth into the junction between your neck and your shoulder. The pain makes you writhe—in a good way.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined this,” he grunts, laving his tongue over the indents on your skin. Your necklaces clink together—silver and rose-gold tangled in a mess of thin, delicate chains. “My—my hand could never—”

“Neither could mine,” you tell him, breathless.

His spine stiffens at your words, brain overcome with the thought of you lying in bed, your fingers buried between your legs and low whines pouring from your mouth. He groans; his next thrust is hard, keen, unforgiving.

He keeps you close, your bodies never separating. Your skin is slick with sweat, chests gliding together. Adrenaline rushes through Harry’s veins—he drives ahead, plunging inside of you with each fierce snap of his hips. You can’t do anything but lie there and take it, take it, take it.

“I want you,” he gasps, warm air washing out onto your collarbones. His hands are clammy, still locked with yours; he wouldn’t have it any other way. “I want you, I want you, I—” He gulps. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Harry,” you murmur, grazing your nose against his temple. “Harry, look at me.”

Reluctantly, he pulls his face away from your throat. Your eyes are soft when they land on his, forehead shining with sweat, lips swollen and raw. The bun holding most of your hair back has come loose (Harry is certain that it’s due to the way your bodies shift along the ground with every thrust.)

You swallow roughly and shake your head, staring past his features and searching for something deeper.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, nearly crushing his fingers in your grip. “I’m here.”

Your walls pulsate around him, and his rhythm falters. He swears softly, releasing one of your hands so that he can bring his thumb down to rub haphazard shapes against your clit. You moan, surprised.

“Cum for me,” he orders, nodding rapidly. “Cum for me, and then I’ll do the same. Where do you want it, hm? Tell me.”

“Inside,” you pant, your nose screwing up in pleasure. “Cum inside me.”

“Shit, you’re serious?” he asks, awestruck. His stomach twists hotly at your invitation. “Want me to claim your pretty cunt? Is that it?”

“God,” you say. You squirm beneath him, nodding frantically. “Please!”

“Fuck!” he cries, and when you clamp down on his cock, he’s gone.

The two of you ride out your highs together, quivering and grunting in unison. Harry wraps his arms around your waist, holding you close to his chest. You dig your nails into his back, clinging to him like a piece of wood drifting through the stormy sea. Colourful spots dance in his vision—he tries his best to blink them away. Your thighs tremble around his hips, caught in an endless cycle of vibrations.

“Holy shit,” you whimper, exhaling shakily. “That was…”

Harry braces himself over your face, keeping you shielded from everything outside of your little bubble.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

A low laugh falls from your lips, but it quickly morphs into a moan when he pulls out of you. He pauses for a moment, watching as white liquid trickles from your abused entrance. The erotic sight nearly has him ready to go again.

“Fuck,” he mutters. He scoops his release up with two fingers and plugs them back inside of you. “That’s hot.”

You gasp at the slight overstimulation, wrapping a hand around his wrist reflexively. He just shoots you a wicked grin, which has you giggling girlishly in response.

“I want a kiss,” you say, craning your neck.

Harry hums, crawling up your body to fulfill your request. You smile against his lips, tossing your arms over his shoulders. The two of you exchange soft pecks for the next few minutes, basking in the aftereffects of your orgasms. Warmth unfurls in Harry’s chest, potent and contagious. It spreads through his veins, dousing his senses in a golden glow.

“You’re fucking incredible,” he tells you, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. “And I like you. So much.”

“I like you, too,” you reply, tracing your fingertips over the muscles in his back. “But if you ever lie to me again—” Your expression grows serious. “—let’s just say that you won’t have to worry anymore about your boxers sticking to your balls, okay?”

It’s an earnest threat—he knows that you mean every word—but nevertheless, it makes him laugh. You giggle along with him; he rolls off of you, his spine meeting the floor of the ring, and you cuddle into his side. Your nails tap languidly against his sternum as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. The two of you lie there for a few long moments, enjoying the peaceful silence.

“They’re taking my case against James to trial,” you say at last.

Harry stiffens, lifting his head so that he can look down at you properly.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” he asks.

“Yeah.” You nod, refusing to meet his gaze. “But, um…my lawyer said that it might be a good idea to bring a witness to the stand. Just to seal the deal and stuff.”

You peek up at him shyly, and it clicks.

“Oh,” he says softly. “You want me?”

“Only if you’re comfortable with it,” you say hurriedly, resting your chin on his chest. “Please don’t think that I’m forcing you—”

“Hey, no,” he cuts you off, sweeping his fingers through your hair. The action soothes you, makes your eyelids flutter shut and your lips tremble with a nervous exhale. “’Course I’ll testify. I don’t want that piece of shit coming anywhere near you.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, pressing your mouth to his skin. You litter a few grateful kisses along his pectorals, and he smiles. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Don’t have to keep saying that,” Harry mumbles, chuckling tenderly. He takes your face between his hands, thumbs trailing idly over your temples. “I wanna keep you safe. Or—or make you feel safe, at least.”

Your eyes glisten.

“I do feel safe around you,” you say. Your lips twitch. “Except for when you’re trying to punch me in the gut.”

He snickers, shaking his head. “If you want to start tussling with me more often, you’re gonna have to get used to that.”

“Duly noted.” You smirk.

Harry sighs, letting his head fall back against the ground.

“Speaking of keeping you safe…,” he mutters, staring up at the ceiling. His fingers resume their previous ministrations, stroking languidly through your hair. “You should go pee, yeah? Heard it’s important for girls to do that after sex.”

You laugh, surprised by his words. “How—how do you know that?”

“Sister,” he reminds you. His cheeks dimple as he grins.

You nod, mouth curling into a fond smile. “Right.”

    April 26, 2021

The crowd is deafening, encasing him in a cloud of noise. He refuses to let it distract him, zeroing in on his opponent with the intensity of a thousand suns. An experimental jab comes his way, gauging the distance between them, but Harry sidesteps it easily. He retaliates with a right hook, catching the side of the man’s head. It’s not a powerful blow, but it succeeds in disorienting him for a few milliseconds.

He charges forward, then, sensing an opportunity and seizing it before it can fade away. In a flurry of fists (and the odd kick here and there), he backs his opponent up until the ropes around the ring are digging into the man’s waist. He’s ruthless, giving him no chance to react, delivering blow after blow until his rival can barely stand on his own two feet. At that point, he retreats, stepping back and letting his victory come to him.

He needs this win. He needs this win. He needs this—

His challenger falls into the trap, stumbling forward with double vision and throwing a sloppy hook. Harry bats his hand away effortlessly, lunging forward and curving his arm up. Pride flares in his chest when his fist makes contact with his opponent’s jaw, making the man’s head snap back on his neck. He drops to the floor in an unconscious, muscular heap.

The seconds pass by like molasses, but at last, the referee is climbing into the ring and lifting Harry’s hand high above his head. The crowd roars. He closes his eyes for a moment, basking in the praise. When they flutter open again, they’re trailing upward, searching for one particular face in a sea of strangers.

And there you are.

You’re beaming, clapping frantically and pausing every so often to cup your hands around your mouth and amplify your cheers. Harry smiles, tilting his chin upward and letting his head fall back in relief. He doesn’t tear his gaze away from you, even as the referee releases his wrist and crouches to rouse his opponent from the ground.

He hears someone call his name and turns to the side. He finds your father peeking at him through the ropes circling the ring, a wide grin on his face. He beckons him over, a water bottle clutched tightly in his outstretched hand. Harry complies, breathing out a heavy sigh.

Meanwhile, you’re pushing through the throng of people that have now started moving toward the exit. Going against the current is difficult—you murmur quick apologies as you nudge past countless shoulders and elbows—but finally, you emerge from the crowd, unscathed. You see Harry chatting with a few people approximately thirty feet away, but before you can take another step, a big, burly security guard blocks your path.

“No spectators beyond this point,” he tells you gruffly.

“But, I—,” your mouth opens and closes, though no words come out. Instinctively, you point over the guard’s shoulder, your finger pinned on a very sweaty, very shirtless Harry. “That’s my boyfriend.”

You only have a moment to feel shocked by your claim. Boyfriend?

It’s been weeks since that night at the gym, and yeah, you suppose that the two of you are a thing, now. You’re going out. You’re exclusive. Whatever the hell you want to call it.

But you’ve never referred to him as your boyfriend, and he’s never referred to you as his girlfriend. You haven’t talked about potentially putting a label on your relationship, despite the fact that you’re both clearly interested in seeing each other and no one else.

Is it time to have that conversation?

Harry jumps in surprise when he hears you call his name. He turns toward the sound and then grunts when you barrel into him a moment later, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. One of his hands reflexively falls to your bottom before quickly moving away. The feeling of his calloused palm on your ass sends a shiver down your spine.

You bury your face in his shoulder. He’s sweating all over, skin wet and muscles bulging from exertion. You know that you’ve caught him off-guard, because he whispers your name incredulously into your ear and presses a gentle kiss to your jaw. When he finally sets you down, you peer up at him with bright eyes and a large grin.

“That was incredible,” you gush, your hands falling to his biceps. “You obliterated him!”

“Thanks,” he chuckles. His cheeks are pink—you don’t think it’s because of the match.

In the periphery of your vision, you catch sight of your father. He’s standing there with raised brows and parted lips, and you suddenly remember that he hasn’t yet been made aware of your…situation. You gasp, stepping away from Harry quickly and draping your arms around your own torso. He seems to recognize your blunder as well, because his shoulders tense and his eyes nearly pop out of his head.

The two of you speak at the same time.

“Coach—”

“Dad—”

“I don’t want to know,” your father announces, holding up one hand and cutting you both off swiftly. His eyes bounce back and forth between you, features betraying no emotion whatsoever. Finally, his shoulders slump.

“I’m gonna call it a night, gioia,” he tells you. He then looks to the left, directing his next words at Harry. “Congratulations on your win, H. Have her home by midnight.”

“Dad, I’m a grown woman—,” you begin to scoff, but he gives you a pointed glare.

“Midnight,” he repeats.

You shrink away and nod.

~*~

Before leaving, Harry decides to take a quick shower in the men’s locker room. You sit on one of the benches, tapping your foot against the tiles as you watch him get undressed. It doesn’t take him long—he’s only wearing a pair of shorts, after all—but you savour every moment, your eyes raking over his muscular back as he bends down to pick his bottoms up off of the ground. He tosses the fabric into his drawstring bag before peering over his shoulder at you.

“Sure you don’t wanna join me?” he asks, a coy smirk playing on his lips when he catches you staring.

You look away quickly, picking at your nails and feigning indifference. “Where anyone could walk in? I’m good.”

He shrugs, snickering quietly. “Suit yourself.”

You ogle his plump ass as he walks away.

A moment later, one of the showers turns on. You can hear Harry humming softly as he steps under the spray. You sigh, leaning back against the wall and fishing your phone out from your pocket. For the next few minutes, you scroll distractedly through social media, bored out of your mind.

You grunt softly and set your phone down, tiptoeing over to the door of the locker room and fastening it shut. The lock above the handle slides into place with a low click!

“Fuck it,” you mutter.

You flick open the button of your jeans, shoving the material down your thighs. Eventually, you’re naked, goosebumps pebbling on your arms. You set your clothes back down onto the bench and grab a spare towel, fiddling with the necklace hanging from your throat. A thought occurs to you; you unclasp the chain, pulling it off and letting it pool in the palm of your hand.

Harry’s idle singing grows louder as you approach the row of showers. It’s not hard to find his cubicle—it’s the only one with the curtain drawn over the entrance. You pad toward it, hanging your towel next to his and calling out, “Harry?”

“Yeah?” His hums stop.

You grasp the fabric of the curtain, pulling it back and peering inside. Immediately, Harry’s gaze locks with yours. He’s completely bare, standing beneath the water with hooded eyes and shampoo foaming in his hair. You slip into the cubicle, not missing the way he gawks at your naked body.

“I changed my mind,” you murmur, peering up at him shyly.

He presses his lips together to fight back a smile. “Yeah. You sure did.”

“Shut up and let me rinse your hair.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Before you can bury your hands into the wet strands, however, you remember the jewellery clutched between your fingers.

“Actually—,” you say, hesitating. “I, um—I wanted to give this to you.”

You scoop the necklace up from your palm, holding it out nervously. Harry recognizes it immediately, and his eyes widen in surprise.

“What for?” he asks, not unkindly.

“It’s my lucky charm,” you tell him, shrugging your shoulders. “I just figured…maybe it’ll work for you, too.”

He kisses you, then, grabbing your face in his hands and crushing his lips to yours. You whimper into his mouth, finding his wrists and encasing them in a tight grip. The kiss is passionate, bruising, fiery—you’ve never felt so wanted.

Harry pulls back once the two of you run out of air. Even then, he keeps his forehead pressed snugly against yours, staying close. He’s breathing heavily, and you’re starting to sweat, the humidity of the stall seeping into every last pore on your body. Harry shakes his head, gazing into your eyes.

“You’re my lucky charm,” he says.

Your heartbeat stutters in your chest.

“But,” he continues, smiling softly, “I’ll take the necklace. It’ll be good to have for when you’re not there.”

You nod wordlessly, and he steps back. His hands find his throat, fumbling with the chain dangling over his collarbones. He reaches over his shoulders, unclasping his own necklace and presenting it to you.

“Here,” he says. “I’ll take yours, and you take mine.”

You nod again.

You turn around slowly, electricity thrumming through your body as Harry guides the silver chain around your neck. The shiny cross pendant rests against your sternum; the warmth of the metal seeps into your skin. When you face him again, Harry whistles lowly, his lips twitching.

“Looks good on you,” he says, nodding proudly. “My girl.”

“Is that what I am?” you ask, peeking up at him through your lashes. “Your girl?”

He pauses. He really does look ridiculous with the white, frothing shampoo slicked through his hair.

“Is that what you want to be?”

A moment of silence ensues.

“Yeah,” you finally say, biting your bottom lip. “It is.”

Harry smiles. He leans forward and kisses you again, softer this time. You nudge his shoulder with the hand that’s still holding your necklace, prompting him to spin around.

“Come on,” you murmur, delivering one last affectionate peck to his mouth. “Your turn.”

~*~

Harry pulls up to your house fifteen minutes before midnight. You unbuckle your seatbelt, modifying your position in the front seat so that you can look at him properly. Your hair is still slightly damp from your shared shower, and your skin is fresh and clean. You smell like him—like the body wash you had both used to scrub yourselves down in the small cubicle. A silver necklace—his necklace—peeks out from beneath the collar of your denim jacket.

The jewellery suits you. He doesn’t ever want you to take it off.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment until you eventually crack a smile.

“You look like you want to eat me,” you say, laughing.

“C’mere, then,” he chuckles, already leaning forward. “Lemme have a taste.”

“Gross.” You stick your tongue out playfully but obey him nonetheless, your lips meeting over the middle console of the vehicle. Harry cups your face in one hand, keeping you close. You sigh into his mouth, and he swallows the sound down—it’s the prettiest fucking thing he’s ever heard.

You carry on like that for the next few minutes, exchanging soft kisses that don’t go beyond him placing a calloused palm on your thigh. When you finally pull away, a breathless giggle bubbles up in your throat.

“Have I ever told you that you’re a great kisser?” you ask.

“Only a dozen times a day,” he replies, smirking gently.

You laugh, carding your fingers through his hair and tilting your head to the side as you stare at him. Your eyes are far away, getting lost in your own thoughts, it seems.

“What is it?” he whispers, even though there’s no one else in the car aside from you and him.

“I love you,” you murmur absentmindedly.

Harry freezes; your confession knocks the air from his lungs.

“What?” he says, his brows knitting together.

At last, you snap out of your trance. Your admission sinks in, and you recoil, shocked at your own boldness.

“I—,” you start, your eyes growing impossibly wide. “I just meant—we’ve known each other for years, now, but I feel like I really got to know you these past few months. These past few weeks, especially.”

You shrug, playing nervously with the silver cross hanging around your neck. Harry’s heart somersaults at the sight.

“I’m sorry if it’s bad timing,” you continue; you’re rambling, now. “And I understand that it might be weird considering the fact that we just put a label on this, but—,” you break off, taking a deep breath, “—I love you. I do.”

He reaches out, trailing his fingers over the faint curve of your jaw. You gasp softly when his thumb ghosts over your bottom lip.

“Did you just apologise for telling me that you love me?” he says. Crinkles appear at the corners of his eyes.

You squeeze your own eyes shut, cringing at his words and shaking your head.

“Don’t repeat it,” you plead. “I’m already embarrassed enough.”

“Oh, so loving me is embarrassing?” he asks, smirking slyly.

You frown, batting his hand away and shifting your body so that you’re no longer facing him. You place your elbow against the ledge of the passenger door, resting your chin on your fist and staring pointedly out the window.

“Hey,” Harry coos, though he can’t stop the inkling of laughter that seeps into his voice. “Don’t be like that.”

“I take it back,” you say flatly, refusing to turn around. “I hate you, actually.”

“Really,” he says, but it’s not a question. He unbuckles his own seatbelt so that he can lean over the middle console and nuzzle at your cheek.

“My girlfriend hates me?” he asks; he knows that he’s being insufferable, but he can’t help it. Messing with you is so much fun.

“Yes.” Your response is curt. “She does.”

“That’s not nice,” he says, curling his lips down into a dramatic pout. He presses a gentle kiss to the side of your neck—right against a particular spot that makes you melt every single time. He knows it, and so do you.

“That’s not nice at all,” Harry continues, littering sloppy pecks down the column of your throat. “This how you treat the man who loves you?”

You pause when his words register in your brain.

“Stop lying,” you mutter, keeping your gaze glued to the scenery outside your window.

“’M not lying,” he tells you, squeezing your thigh gently. “Said you’d cut my balls off if I did it again, remember?”

And despite your initial sense of humiliation, you laugh. Harry smiles, placing his free hand on your cheek and guiding you to look over at him. You submit to his wishes, gazing at him through pretty, wispy lashes. He tilts forward ever-so-slightly, nudging your noses together and fastening his lips to yours. When he pulls back after a moment, he pinches your chin between two fingers.

“I love you,” he says earnestly.

“I love you, too,” you whisper.

Your eyelids flutter shut as he slides his palm up your leg; he stops only once it’s resting in the crease between your hip and your thigh, dangerously close to your groin.

“We have—,” he cranes his neck, peering over at the digital clock on the truck’s dashboard, “—five minutes until you have to be inside. Think I can make you cum between now and then?”

You scoff, pushing him away and laughing at his crudeness.

“You’re insane,” you giggle, shooting him a faux-stern glare. “Behave.”

“Fine,” he grumbles, frowning childishly. You just grin, slipping your hand around his neck and pulling him in for a doting kiss. You press a series of rapid pecks along the seam of his mouth, nipping playfully at his bottom lip before retreating. Instinctively, he follows you, but you dig your fingers into his shoulder, stopping him before he can get too far.

“Goodnight,” you whisper, reaching for the handle on the door.

Harry watches with wide, awestruck eyes as you exit the car. You clutch your purse closer to your side, looking back at him expectantly and waiting for his response.

He clears his throat, blinking out of his reverie.

“Yeah,” he nods, nostrils flaring slightly. “Goodnight.”

He peels away from your house only once you disappear through the front door. Subconsciously, his hand finds the rose-gold chain hanging around his throat. He fiddles with the necklace, running his thumb over the smooth surface of your shiny pendant. There’s something unreal—almost dreamlike—about having it between his fingers. He’s spent so long watching you fumble and toy with it—watching it bring you comfort when you’re nervous, or bored, or afraid.

Now, it’s his.

And so are you.

Faint music plays from the truck’s stereo; Harry reaches forward, twisting a knob and turning the volume up to its full capacity. Ariana Grande’s familiar vocal riffs pour through the speakers.

He sings along at the top of his lungs, hollering triumphantly the entire ride home.

~*~

Extra: Knockout [READ IT NOW ON PATREON]

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