#i hope this helps and i hope it doesn't sound condescending

[lesbxdyke]

[ID: Tags that read #ok but how do i stop feeling guilty about not bending over backwards #like actually /END ID]

Prefacing this with:

I am not a psychologist, I am not a therapist, I am just the OP of the post and have been through so many rounds of so many different therapies that I've cobbled together some pretty decent ways to cope with things.

For the guilt, for me, I use a lot of DBT (Dialect Behaviour Therapy - used mostly to treat Borderline Personality Disorder and PTSD) skills.

The two most notable are 'Check the Facts' and 'Acting Opposite'

Check the Facts is exactly what it says! You run through the situation, and remove "I think" and "I feel" until you've got a list of only what happened.

To use the example I used in the original post of someone asking me to call them for company on the way home:

[Friend] sent me a message asking me to call them on the way home.

I responded saying no.

I then gave an alternate plan.

They agreed to the alternate plan.

We had a phone call after I had finished my task.

See how it doesn't say what I think of their motivations, or my feelings about what happened?

Then you look at the facts and examine your feelings (in your case, guilt), and ask yourself:

"Is this the expected emotional response to these facts?"

If no, skip to step 3. If yes, step 2 is:

"Is this the expected level of the emotion to these facts?"

If yes, then feel your feelings and speak to your friends as necessary. If no, go to step 3!

Step 3 is where we move onto Acting Opposite!

Your body and mind form a feedback loop that regulate your emotions. If you're attempting to regulate yourself out of an emotional response that you don't want, or is too big for the facts of the situation, then you need to interrupt that feedback loop.

So first, you have to identify how the emotion wants you to act. Anger makes you tense and clench and snarl. Sadness makes you isolate and curl in on yourself and hug your stomach. Guilt also makes you want to make yourself small, makes your stomach flip, makes you bow and scrape and apologise.

So act opposite to that. Force yourself to stand tall. Roll your shoulders back and open your body up. Drink water and breathe to help the nausea. And despite the urge (the nigh irresistible urge, I know), do NOT apologise or make yourself small conversationally.

As you force your behaviour into the opposite, you effect the feedback loop and loop your brain out of the emotion it's trying to lock you into.

Now I'm not going to tell you that these things are easy. They are NOT easy. I did my course of DBT with professionals in 2018 and I still struggle with it some days. But if you practice with more minor things (ow, I stubbed my toe and now I'm angry at the table. Let me check the Facts and Act Opposite to bring that anger down. Oh no, a sad movie has made me cry! Let me check the Facts and Act Opposite to bring myself back to calm!) then when the big ones come, it's easier to call upon those skills!

I think one of the things that has brought me the most peace in my life was the decision to stop responding to anything not clearly stated to me.

Anxiety: Oh no your friend hates you!

Me: Well they didn't say that. So either they need to fortify and tell me themselves, or I will continue to be their friend exactly as I am.

Not just that though. When people hint drop that they want a thing from you, I act as if I have not noticed at all. Either you directly ask me for that thing, or you are not getting that thing from me.

I actually decided to start doing this because I got diagnosed as autistic and I realised how much stress and unhappiness I put on myself trying to figure out everyone's motives and wants and needs all the time. So I decided I'd just... Stop.

And I tell people that. I tell people "I don't notice or respond to hints or passive aggressive behaviour. Either you need to be straight with me or I will continue as I am." And you know the only person that has had a problem with it?

My former abuser (who I am vvvvv low contact with). Because they relied on me feeling obligated to respond to their unspoken moods and wants to keep me in line.

Everyone else has been immediately on board and my relationships have gotten SO much stronger. Because I am asked directly for things, and I will give a direct reason for my response, regardless of what that response is. (e.g. "Hey, can you call me, I want company on the drive home!" "No, sorry, I'm in the middle of [task], but I will be done in twenty minutes so if you still want my company then, I'll be happy to.")

So I put this out as a suggestion for all people, ND and NT.

Stop responding to hints, passive aggression and other 'unspoken' things. Use, model and encourage clear communication with everyone, you'd be surprised how much easier it makes EVERYTHING!

[lunebulous]

Playing with your body in non-sexual ways

A.N: This is my first time writing fanfiction. Any feedback is very much appreciated. I hope you enjoy! I have no idea what tags to put here so, just trust me bro. cw: thigh worshipping (zayne), plus-size reader (rafayel).

Xavier

There wouldn’t be a lot of occasions where his caresses would be in a non sexual way - that's why he's known to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. But don't get me wrong, being sexual does not equal condescending or rough. Not for him. - well, sometimes. - It's just that if he focuses too long on your face when you’re sleeping soundly, or when you're admiring the lantern lights at another festival, he gets this sensation that he should own you once more, just to be sure you're his. 

So when he kisses, it's only to leave you wanting more of him.  So when he caresses your body, it's only to let himself know he's the one making your skin get goosebumps.  So when he embraces all of you in a tight hug, it’s only to feel like you’re finally real this time.  And when all of these inevitably turn into that feeling of ownership again, he frowns internally. Initially, he wishes that he was different and that he wouldn’t feel like this everytime he stops to think about you; But it's just so much love that it overflows from his heart, dripping right into the lowest part of his torso. When he realizes, he’s slowly kissing you against the wall again. He can’t help it, he's naturally drawn to you like a magnet. And that feeling gives place to a necessity, a craving that hurts so deliciously he gives up on being different. So when you gasp for air and tug at his hair to breathe a little, he just can’t understand why. Or how can you do this to him. He wants more. And more. And more. He needs it so bad he can’t help but pin your hands to the wall so he can kiss you longer, raveling in the way you squirm under him. After all, just because he can't help it, doesn't mean he's not enjoying every second of the fruits of his own possessiveness.

So he caresses you all the time - the problem is that it often turns into a primal need to own and to explore each cute face - each little sound - you make for him. He feels like a victim to his own desires. Poooor Xavier… (irony included).

Rafayel

Rafayel is completely enamoured by your hands, making sure to always kiss them whenever he gets the chance. When he doesn’t, he’s more than expected to caress them while you wait for food in a nice restaurant, or when you’re walking on the shore with him. He is the king of intertwining your hands all the time - never letting go even if for brief moments. He says his bodyguard should be aware of where he is at all times, and when you replied that having one of your hands busy would actually get in the way if danger arrives, he puffed his chest, saying something along the lines of “i’m lucky I have the best bodyguard that can fight 10 men with only one hand then!”. You sighed, giggling because of him. “You’re not actually expecting me to fight with 10 men without letting go of your hand, right?” “Well, I'm pretty sure that was on your job description when I hired you.”  “No it wasn’t.” “Now it is.”  --- He also kisses and grabs your stomach and love handles all the time, especially when lying down, like now. There were some times when it made you feel a little bit insecure, but he always buried his face on it with a big smile, hugging your waist. When you voiced your insecurity to him for the first time, he simply said: “Well, I never saw a painting of any muse that didn’t have enough body for me to drown in it. - he stares up at you intently, before looking at your stomach again. - In fact, it is the only scenario where drowning would be possible for me. - Now he’s getting a hold of your love handles. - And actually, i'd love it. Thank you, my muse!” Right before nuzzling his face on your belly again, giggling. You blush furiously, caressing his purple locks, but he’s too busy to see it.

Zayne

Zayne would always need a bit of a push to touch you like he wants to - and you know that. He’s slowly coming out of his shell and being more confident when it comes to being intimate with you, getting over his irrational fear of hurting you again. The ‘push’ he got today was seeing you come home after brunch with your friends, wearing a dark and muted red lipstick, blended on your lips so perfectly it reminded him of a vintage doll. He made a note to himself to compliment you later when you had your attention on him - because you were busy taking off your shoes, your coat and yapping about some BIG gossip you just found out. He listens attentively, putting two and two together with you as you happily stride towards him. 

You sit beside him on the couch and hug his arm, leaning on his shoulder. He places his hand between your thighs, trying not to pay too much attention to it - a task quite hard for him, as you were wearing light brown stockings that made your oh-so-loved thighs look even more bite-deserving; But he tries to shake the thought away. 

It doesn’t take long before you’re well-invested in the documentary he is watching, but the position is getting quite uncomfortable now, so you crawl between his legs and rest your back against his chest, both of you laying down on the chaise part of the couch. First he stares at you, finding adorable how you don’t hesitate before making yourself comfortable with him. He lays a chaste kiss on the crown of your head, making you snuggle against him even more, getting it just right like two puzzle pieces. And he swears to himself he’s a good man. He is not going to turn this into something more just because your ass grinded against him innocently, no, no. Breathe, you touch-starved man! 

But the same man now is fighting for his life to NOT look at your thighs, the stockings making them look so shiny for him, he couldn't help himself but imagine the shadows his fingers pressing onto your skin would look like. He imagined you in not-so-innocent lightings more than he’d ever admit, and as his thoughts stray away, he doesn’t notice how he’s been caressing your chest and collarbones for some time now, lightly using his fingertips to circle around your skin, as if memorizing each part of it. Then he's slowly directing his way to your neck, with four fingers on one side and his thumb on the other, going up and down with featherly touches as his eyes are glued to your legs, completely blank, admiring each curve going from the arch of your feet to your calves, and then to your thighs, stopping at the start of your tight skirt. Now he’s gripping your neck - just lightly pressing on it, your airflow is completely free. (for now). You can’t help but wonder what’s going on inside his mind, lying to yourself that feeling his firm hand around your neck is not making you want to rub your legs together, but you're already doing it a bit, discreetly, not knowing you’re being very thoroughly watched. As he’s breathing deeper to try to not get excited, you feel his hand slowly letting go of your neck and you whine inwardly at it. But then his hands hesitantly go higher, his slender fingers sliding across your chin to play with your lips as he remembered to compliment you. He opens his mouth to do it, but being so lost in thought he just stops. Staring at your legs with an empty gaze, completely out of it. God, they’d look so good around his cock. Fuck.  You look up, a bit surprised with his actions, slowly tilting your head to the side, looking at him. - the movement makes him get out of his trance, suddenly confused as to how his fingers got to your lips - but as if reading his mind, you part them, waiting. And then he gets it. The key to making himself touch you like he wants to is just to - not think. It makes sense, it's a part of him he never let himself explore. He then lets himself do what he wants, sliding his middle and index finger on your tongue, experimenting. As you close your lips around them, looking at him so puppy-eyed, he can't help but smirk as realizing he could get used to this very quickly. You start feeling him growing against your ass now.

He presses down on your tongue, smiling. “You look so beautiful wearing this color, love.”

So, Zayne doesn’t play with any part of your body - because as soon as he does it, he gets a problem under his trousers. And now that he knows how to let go of control, - you got one too.

Sylus

Sylus wouldn’t be the type of man to touch you without being full-on intentional with it. The same amount of hate he has towards ‘quickies’, he has for the idea of touching your most sensitive parts without being completely devoted to them. So when playing with you, it is usually filled with admiration and love, silently appreciating your presence by his side. That’s why you often find him mindlessly braiding your hair as you lay your head on his lap to watch a movie, or how he gently runs his fingernails - once claws - on your calf under the table when he’s discussing his next moves with the twins. Yeah, sometimes his hands wander a little bit higher, a little bit firmer, but always looking at you to watch your reaction; as if to just - test the waters, tease you to see your ears turn red.. or warm you up for what’s coming next.

[hugsandharrystyles]

Change of Heart

Summary: Harry's a protecter, a good man. She's a shy librarian with a dog named Pickle. He can't stand her, so why does it fuck him up when he finds out she's scared of him? (Enemies-to-lovers) Word Count: 17k+ Warnings: Harry being a dick, smut

Harry always tried to be a good person.

Key word: Tried.

Growing up, it was just him, his sister, and his mother, so he always felt as a natural protector for women, not implying that women can't hold their own, but he always keeps extra lookout because he can't count all the times his mother and sister have been put in uncomfortable situations with men.

So, he can't understand why all that being said, he can't feel anything but disdain for her.

Y/N has been a part of Harry's friend group almost as long as he has, and he can't stand her. She is the fakest person he's ever met.

He remembers his sister dealing with girls like her in high school. They start off kind and sweet, but then suddenly they have everyone wrapped around their fingers and doing anything they ask. He remembers his sister crying to him about girls like her, so he can't understand why he has to entertain her presence.

He's talked to Niall, his closest friend who's also in their group, about it, but Niall doesn't see the problem. Hell, Y/N has Niall and the rest of them wrapped around her manicured finger.

He really just can't stand her.

"Y/N, tell us how your job interview went!" Harry rolls his eyes and shoots back some of his beer. It was rare that his friend group actually went out to a bar instead of gathering at one of their homes, usually because Y/N hated going out. He feels Niall hit his leg at his eye roll.

"Oh, yes! It went really well, in fact, you're looking at a professional librarian!" Y/N says, her excitement evident in her voice.

"That's so great, Y/N. I'm so proud of you!" Sarah says while the others all chime in with their own praise.

"Awesome, a job almost as boring as you!" Harry says snidely. He usually isn't so blunt, but he's had a few drinks in him.

"Harry- dude, c'mon," Mitch sighs.

"N-no, I get it," Y/N interjects. "It definitely sounds boring just saying it, but I'll be fixing binding on really old books and helping people out with-" Y/N is interrupted when Harry starts dramatically snoring. Y/N looks around the table, getting visibly embarrassed.

"Alright, H, I think you're tapped out. You're being an asshole," Niall says and tries to push him out of the booth.

"Oh, come off it. I'm just joking," Harry rolls his eyes.

"It's fine, I got the joke," Y/N tries to laugh. "I'm going to go get another drink," she says before sliding out of the booth.

"Do you want me to come with?" Sarah asks, knowing about her friend's social anxiety.

"N-no, I'll be okay," Y/N reassures her and grabs her purse before walking off to the bar. She's wearing a big sweater and jeans to a bar, and it's pissing Harry off.

"You need to fucking lay off, man," Mitch says and throws a napkin at Harry. "Just because she doesn't work with lumber and hammers and whatever else manly shit that you do, doesn't mean her job isn't any less important."

"Actually, to be correct, I am a project manager for a multi-million-dollar company-"

"Shut up," Sarah groans.

"You're so mean to her- that's not you," Mitch sighs.

"I'm not fucking mean- she's just annoying. And look at all of you, wrapped around her finger, just like she wants."

Niall goes to speak but is interrupted by Sarah reading a message off of her phone.

I'm so sorry, but I started feeling really sick, so I went home. Hope you guys have fun!

Once Sarah finishes reading the message she looks at Harry with a glare.

"Well, how the hell is she getting home? Didn't you drive her?" Harry asks Sarah.

"Oh, are you worried?" She asks with a condescending tone.

"Shut up."

Y/N thinks this is the first actual party she's been invited to. Sure she went to her fair share of birthday parties and sleepovers, but they were all PG. Never had she seen so many red solo cups in one place before. One of her friends released an EP, and they're celebrating by hosting a huge party at their apartment.

Sarah helped her pick out her entire outfit and assured her she looks amazing. Y/N has always struggled with her appearance because her parents weren't around very much. Between business trips and trying to live their own lives, there wasn't time to acknowledge their daughter. She would be dragged to their business parties, and she would just feel surrounded by a bunch of white bigoted men who thought they were superior just because they get fat checks.

When they arrived, they were immediately greeted by the stench of alcohol and weed. The apartment was crowded and loud, and Y/N was beginning to get nervous.

"Hey, it's okay," Sarah assures her, and she nods in agreement. "Let's go find our people," Sarah suggests and loops her arm with Y/N's.

"I think I see Niall," Y/N points out, and her theory was proven correct when she hears his booming laugh. It eases her nerves, and she wraps her arm around her shoulder when she finally gets next to him. He's standing with Mitch, Harry, and a few other people she's casually met before. Sarah greets Mitch with a kiss and settles into his side.

"Y/N!" Niall shouts when he finally realizes who's hugging him. He embraces her, and she can tell he's a bit drunk with the way he leans his weight on her. "I didn't think you'd come!"

"None of us did," Harry interjected lowly under his breath, but she still heard him. They hadn't really interacted since that night at the bar.

"Harry," she nods to him when Niall releases her. He barely acknowledges her before he turns back to the guy he was talking to, but he can't help the way his gaze would sometimes drift back to her. It's so annoying how pretty she can be without even trying.

Harry hates how enamoring she is.

"Harry, oh my gosh, how are you?" He hears a voice come up from behind him then feels a hand wrap around his arm. Emma. A clingy girl he hooked up with about a month ago- a good distraction from the thoughts he's facing at the moment. He wraps his arm around her shoulder as if he cares about seeing her.

"Hey, babe, I'm good," he tells her.

Y/N watches the scene and tries to limit the disgust that wants to appear on her face. Niall wonders off, and she's left alone with the pair.

"Who's this?" Emma suddenly asks Harry, as if she is entitled to any kind of ownership over Harry. He wants to be pissed off, but he also wants Y/N to go away.

"My friend's friend," Harry tells her. Y/N feels her heart pang. He couldn't even call her his friend out of convenience.

"Oh, interesting," she says, and Harry can tell she's not convinced.

"Yeah, I'm Y/N! It's actually my first party, and you're really pretty! Do you-" She's cut off by the girl who's practically hanging off of Harry's arm.

"Do you have a thing for Harry?" She asks.

"Oh! What? No- no-"

"Chill, Emma," Harry says, and Y/N almost thanks him before he continues, "Don't worry, she's the complete opposite of my type," he assures with a cocky smirk. The two laugh, and Y/N wills herself to walk away.

It's an hour and a half later, and Y/N is more than ready to go home. She's leaned against a wall, her phone dead and her head hurting. She doesn't have the strength to go find her friends, and she's kind of hurt they've all left her at her first party. She knows that this isn't about her, but she's scared and nervous, and they knew that but still begged her to come. She's just sad and scared and wants to go home.

"Hey, are you okay?" She hears someone ask in her ear, and she almost jumps out of her skin.

"Oh gosh, you scared me!" She gasps and meets the eyes of who's talking to her. He's a very cute boy who's holding a red solo cup.

"Sorry!" He apologizes and touches her shoulder with a smile. She smiles back. "I'm Ian," He introduces himself, shaking her hand in his.

"I'm Y/N. It's nice to meet you," she tells him.

"So, I take it you don't usually come to parties," He asks, and she nods.

"My first one actually," she grimaces.

"Let's go get you a drink," he suggests and takes her hand in his, not waiting for an answer before taking her to the kitchen. It's surprisingly empty when they walk in.

"I don't- I uh- I don't drink," she admits.

"Ah, c'mon. One drink won't hurt," he tries to persuade her.

"No, thank you," she says again.

"Alright," he settles. "I think this punch is non-alcoholic," he says to himself and grabs her a cup. She zones out as he pours her a cup. She thinks this guy is cute, but she really just wants to go home. She's broken out of her thoughts when a cup is being handed to her, and an arm is being thrown around her shoulder. Her eyebrows furrow as 'Ian' leans closer to her. "Are you going to say thank you?" He asks, and his tone makes her skin crawl. She laughs awkwardly and tries to shift away from him, but his hands move to her waist and his grip is too tight.

"Ah- that hurts," she tells him, but he only tightens his grip, so she can't move. "I- I want to leave," she whimpers.

"Yeah? Let's go to mine," he says and tries to lean forward to put his mouth on her.

"No- no," she says and tries to push at him.

"Just one little kiss," he tells her. Her first kiss was about to be took from her. Tears roll down her cheeks as he gets closer, but fortunately, he's suddenly being roughly pulled away from her.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Harry's loud and rough voice makes its way to her ears.

"Ay- the fuck, man? We're a bit busy," the scumbag tells Harry. "Didn't realize she was already claimed."

"A woman doesn't need to be claimed for you to not force yourself on her. Walk away, or I'm going to drown you in this punch," Harry warns, and the dude scurries off.

Harry's glare makes her want to cry all the more.

"C'mon," he says gruffly and with a gentle hand, he wraps his hand around her wrist, pulling her all the way outside and to his car. She doesn't even think twice about getting into his car and buckling. Her mind is a state of fog. Harry starts the car and rests his head against the steering wheel, his breathing rapid.

"Are you okay?" She asks gently.

"You- You're asking me if I'm okay?" He laughs condescendingly and buckles himself in before putting the car in drive.

"Well, you seem really mad, and- and maybe you shouldn't drive if-"

"I need you to stop talking," he says suddenly. "I mean seriously- what were you thinking, Y/N?" He asks with his voice raised.

"I don't- I don't-"

"Yeah, you don't think." Harry doesn't think he's ever been this mad before. He saw the beginnings of her and the guy- him practically dragging her to the kitchen and her just going along with it. He saw red. "Did you even watch as he poured you a drink? Do you even know this guy before you just ran off with him?" His questions upset her further, making her feel stupid.

"I was- I was just flustered, and I wanted to go home, and I didn't know what to do-"

"You don't fucking follow a random dickhead alone at a party!" His voice is loud in the small car. It's quiet for a moment, giving him a second to just focus on the road in front of him as he heads to her house when he hears a stifled cry that breaks him out of his moment. "Are you crying?" His anger falters.

"Well, yeah!" She sobs. "I was left alone at my first party- then I almost get molested- now, I was forced to get in the car with you, and- and- and I'm just scared!" She cries.

Harry doesn't particularly know what to do in this situation. All he knows is that his heart is twisting and pulling in his chest.

"There's nothing to be scared about now." His voice is incredibly softer than before.

"I'm stuck in- in the car of the guy who hates me, and I'm scared," she whimpers, her chest heaving as she tries to suck in air between each word.

Harry's heart dies.

"You're scared of me?" His voice is quiet and insecure.

"Yes," she says simply as if she doesn't understand the gravity of her words. Harry continues driving as he feels wet droplets fall down his cheeks. "Are you- Are you crying?" She asks, concerned but also confused. The tables have turned.

"Well, yeah!" He laughs sadly. He's never felt more like a piece of shit.

"Um- I don't- I don't know what to do," she admits. The car is silent until they pull into her driveway. Harry still has tears running down his cheeks, and Y/N feels frozen.

"Okay- we're um- we're here," he announces as if she doesn't know she's at her own home.

"Harry, why don't you come inside. I don't feel comfortable letting you drive home," she tells him.

"I'm f-fine," he tries to laugh it off, wiping roughly at his red eyes.

"If not for you, I really don't want to be alone right now," she admits.

"But I thought- You're scared of me?" He questions.

"I was merely being dramatic. Tonight was heavy, and you're the most unlikely person to be with at the moment," she explains. "C'mon. I'll brew us a pot of tea," she encourages and gets out of the car. Harry thinks for a moment before ultimately getting out of the car and sheepishly following her up. She unlocks the door and ushers him inside quickly before her mut could escape.

"Hi, Pickle," he greets her dog quietly.

"You remember his name," she says, shocked while bending down to scratch at Pickle's ears.

"'Course," he agrees and also pets her dog.

"Okay, I'm going to go put on a pot of tea. Make yourself comfortable," she tells him before scurrying off to her kitchen.

Harry, still feeling emotional, wanders around the room, looking at pictures. He notices he's not in any. He knows he had no right to be. Still, it makes him cry harder.

"Okay, I've got- oh," she freezes with two cups of tea in her hands as she watches Harry breaking down in front of her. She sets the tea down on her coffee table. "Why don't you come sit down, Harry?" She suggests with a soft voice and sits down on the couch herself.

"I'm sorry. This is so em-embarrassing," he cries and plops down on the couch, covering his face with his hands as his shoulders shake.

"Um do you- I can-" Y/N splutters words as she tries to figure out what to do. "Do you want a hug?" She finally asks. She thinks she's the one that should be being comforted right now, but it almost makes her happy to see this side of Harry. Not that she enjoys anyone's sadness, but it's nice to see him vulnerable instead of conniving. Harry slowly looks up at her, and she holds her arms out. He cries as he shuffles into her arms. His face is buried in her chest as she rubs at his back.

"I'm sorry, that's not who I am," he repeats over and over even though she shushes him. They stay in this position, Harry's arms wrapped around her and hers around him as Harry starts to calm down. Harry takes in the moment. She smells fucking divine and feels so soft against him. He never wants to move. Then her phone rings. She starts to get up, but he shakes his head groaning, "No."

"Okay, then," she sighs before shifting to get her phone out of her back pocket. Harry lays flat against her body as she answers Sarah's phone call, his nose nudging at her tummy as he continues to sniffle. She courses her fingers through his hair making him stifle back a moan. He can't believe the full 180 his brain has done on him, but he can't find an ounce of hatred he once felt towards her. He doesn't want to either.

"Hello?" She answers.

"Y/N? Oh, Y/N, I've been looking for you. Where are you?" Sarah asks frantically, and Y/N can barely hear her over the loud party music.

"I uh- I left," she tells her, and Harry rests his chin on her chest to look up at her. She hates to admit it, but her breath gets caught in her throat looking at Harry's red, puffy eyes. She's always thought he's the most attractive person she's ever met, but right now, he looks so effortlessly pretty. He looks gentle for the first time ever.

"Are you safe? Where are you?" Sarah continues to ask.

"I'm home."

"Oh, Y/N. I'm so, so sorry. I thought Niall would have stayed with you, so I thought it was okay to leave you with him, but he didn't and-"

"It's okay, Sarah," she assures. She doesn't want her friend to feel bad. The thought makes her stomach churn.

"No, it's not," Harry counters, and Y/N presses a finger to her lips, but it's too late.

"Is that Harry?" Sarah asks.

"Um, yeah. He took me home. There was a slight problem at the party- some guy wasn't leaving me alone," Y/N explains.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry. Can I come over? Mitch and I will bring food, and Niall can-"

"No, no, Sarah it's okay! You don't have to do any of that. Harry's not bothering me- we're good." Harry smiles at that and lays his head back down on her chest.

"Okay," Sarah replies, doubtful. "I'm going to make it up to you. It was so fucking inconsiderate of me, especially with your past and anxiety-"

"Okay, Sarah, I got to go!" She says. Harry caught the last of what Sarah said, and his eyebrows furrow. They say their goodbyes before hanging up. Y/N sighs and tilts her head up to stare at the ceiling. They sit in silence as Harry's sniffling comes to an end. "Feel better?" she breaks the silence.

"Uh, yeah," Harry answers. "What did Sarah mean by 'your past'?" Harry asks. He feels Y/N tense, and he immediately regrets asking. "I'm sorry- you don't have to answer. I was being-"

"No, it's okay," she sighs. "I just- my parents weren't the greatest, and I just struggle with crowded environments," Y/N explains loosely.

"Oh," Harry answers. "I'm sorry," he adds.

"It's fine. People have it worse than me."

"It's still okay to be upset by it," Harry rebuts.

"Thanks, Harry, but you're kind of the last person I will take advice from. No offense," she tries to explain gently.

"Fair enough," he laughs without humor. He feels her push at his shoulder, so he takes the hint and gets off her. He wants to whine from the loss of her touch, and it confuses him.

"You're really confusing me, Harry," Y/N admits as she sits up. She grabs her own tea and takes a sip before continuing. Harry doesn't think he's ever seen someone so beautiful doing something so domestic. "I mean, you've done a complete 180 in your behavior, and as much as I enjoy you not tormenting me anymore," Harry winces, "I don't understand it, and I don't trust it. I don't trust you."

"I know, I know," he sighs and covers his face with his hands. "I don't understand it either," he admits. Y/N scoffs and puts her cup down. "What?" he asks.

"You don't want to hear it," she mutters.

"Tell me," he encourages.

"It's just- It's really unfair, Harry. You do understand that, right?"

"I don't-" He looks at her in confusion. She continues.

"You can't just completely change your behavior in the course of an hour. I let you have peace for a while because I could tell you were really upset, but if you want to move forward- it's going to take a lot from the both of us," she explains.

A long silence ensues.

"I'm stupid- I'm sorry. You probably don't even care about any of that. Jesus-"

Harry realizes at the moment the exact mental state his actions have and still put her brain in. He makes her insecure and scared. His mom and sister would be so disappointed.

"Stop, Y/N, stop," he pleads. She stops. "Don't talk about yourself that way," he grimaces.

"That's how you talk about me to my face," she counters. "What the fuck else am I supposed to think?" Harry thinks that's the first time he's ever heard her curse. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have raised my voice like that," she sighs and ducks her head. Harry can't help but admire her now. His brain is so mushed and confused with this sudden switch.

"Don't- don't apologize. I deserve much worse," he admits.

"I just don't understand your motive. Is this a joke?" she asks.

"Y/N, I'm being honest when I say I don't understand myself either. When I used to see you, you would just anger me. You reminded me of girls in high school that would bully my sister. They all started out super nice and kind, but somewhere along the way, they would realize that they had my sister wrapped around their finger, and they would toy with her. I love my mom and my sister, and I will always protect them and those around me, and so I just hated you. Dad was never around, so I had to step up."

The confession makes Harry feel as if a pile of bricks was finally removed from his chest. He realizes this is how he would have felt if he had just talked to Y/N in the beginning.

"I guess I can understand more now where your behavior came from but- I'm not like that. You've known me for so long, and I've never- I'm not-"

"Y/N, I don't think you realize just how completely entranced everyone is with you. Anyone would do anything for you because of the spell you put on people," Harry explains. "And I see now that it's not a bad thing to be under your spell. You're kind and patient and good. I've always known that. I just didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to like you, but how can I not?" By the end of Harry's speech, they're both in tears.

The draw he feels for her is indescribable.

He's leaning in before he knows it. His hand on her cheek, her eyes wide in surprise and confusion. Their lips are close when she speaks.

"What- What are you doing?" she stutters.

"Please," he whispers.

"Please what?" she asks. He doesn't know if she genuinely doesn't know what he's doing, or if she's asking him to beg, but both ideas make his dick harden.

"Please let me kiss you," he begs. He places his lips against her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her mouth, relishing in the way she sighs and softly moans. He cups her face with both hands, but before he could place their lips together, she stops him. She places both her hands on his wrists and turns her head.

"Harry, no," she whimpers. He immediately stops.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I don't- I don't know," she stammers.

"Talk to me, what's wrong?" Harry presses.

"I just- Harry, I want my first kiss to be with someone who actually likes me," she admits.

"I- I do like you," Harry tells her. "Wait- your first kiss?"

"Yeah, my first," she says sheepishly. "And I want it to be with someone who is attracted to me."

"I am attracted to you!" Harry encourages.

"No- Harry, you said it yourself- literally tonight- that I am 'the opposite of your type'," you counter while using air-quotes.

"That wasn't-" Harry realizes he's dug himself into a deep hole.

"It's okay, Harry. I know that it's going to be harder to find someone who likes me, but I know it can happen, and I want all my firsts to be with that person," Y/N explains. "I'm not going to kiss someone who just feels bad for me," she says, shaking herself out of his grip to look away, but he turns her face back to him.

"I am, Y/N. I am so attracted to you, and I think that's why I was even more of a dick because I hated that I was so fucking attracted to you," Harry tries to tell her, but she softly shakes her head with a sad smile.

"But you don't like me."

"I do."

"I can't tell. You have to realize how absurd your behavior is to me, right now. Harry, you've been so awful to me for so long, and I'm just not ready to forgive or believe you, I'm sorry- it's too quick," she tells him, her eyes holding all sincerity. Harry feels his own well up again, and she cups his cheek because even though she doesn't trust Harry, she never wants to see anyone sad. "Thank you for- for explaining to me why you acted the way you did- while it doesn't excuse your actions, I do appreciate it and your heart for your family and friends, and I'm more than willing to begin trying now with you." Her explanation ends with Harry in tears and her thumbs whipping them away. "Do you- Would you want to stay the night?" she asks.

Harry feels new hope in his chest.

"You sure?" he chokes out. She nods her head with a soft smile and stands. Harry looks up at her with all the wonder in the world and presses his chin to her stomach while she holds his hand.

"C'mon," she whispers, and she gasps quietly when he presses a gentle kiss to her clothed stomach before standing up with her.

They hold hands as they go to her bedroom, and Harry can't help the way he smiles.

"Let me go get you a change of clothes," Y/N says before disappearing in her closet. He looks around her room for a minute and can't help the comfort and warmth he feels. It's just so her. After a moment, he hears her talking in the closet and thinks she's telling him to come in. He opens the door, and his eyes grow wide when he sees her standing in front of her mirror in just her jeans and bra. Harry purses his lips as his eyes take in her body, and he fights the groan that wants to fall from his mouth. "Harry!" She gasps and covers her chest.

"Sorry!" He's finally broken out of gaze. "I thought I heard you- Hey, what is that?" His eyes zero in on the bruises that cover both sides of her waist and ribs. She looks down as well and bites her lip.

"Um, I think they're from that guy," she whispers defeatedly. He slowly moves closer to her, giving her time to back away or tell him to stop, but she just stares at him with wide glossy eyes. He carefully and with the utmost gentleness he can muster, places his hands on her hips. Softly caressing them, and the bruises littering her skin. He takes a moment just to take her in before speaking.

"I'll kill him," he sneers. It makes her softly laugh.

"No, you won't," she disagrees and shakes her head. "I'm okay," she says. dipping her head down to meet his eyes.

"You're very pretty," Harry counters. She blushes before moving away to get him clothes. Once she hands him the oversized t-shirt and baggy sweatpants, she leaves the room to let him change. She finds and extra toothbrush for him, and once they both finish their night routine, they crawl into her bed, keeping to their own reserved sides and both staring at the ceiling. "Thank you for letting me stay," Harry says, his head turning to look at her. His breathing falters as he looks at her. She just smiles in return.

"Just no funny business," she says softly before reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp. They sit in silence before Harry adjusts himself. They both quietly gasp when his hand skims her own. His hand freezes over hers for a moment before he gently intertwines their pinkies. She makes the bold decision to, with her free hand, lean over and feel for his cheek before planting the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. "Good night, Harry."

Harry falls asleep with a smile on his face and new hope settling into his mind.

Y/N wakes the following morning to a loud banging sound and a heavy weight on her chest. Her eyes squint open, the sun shining through her curtains and to her irises. She groans and closes her eyes again until she hears the banging continue. Her eyes are wide now with fear and confusion. She tries to move to grab her phone but quickly realizes her body is immobilized because of a big sleeping Harry laying on her, his shirt now off his chest. His mouth is slightly agape, laying at the top of her breast. His arms are encircled around her waist and holding her tight. It was much different from the pinkies they had entangled the previous night.

"Harry," she whispers and tries to budge his shoulder. He doesn't move, just continues to heavily breathe against her clothed tit. The banging, which Y/N has realized is just loud knocking, continues, and she really needs to get up. "Harry!" she says louder and pushes at his head. He groans and yawns sleepily. "Get up!" she demands, but he's barely conscious.

"Morning," he sighs dreamily and settles back down on her, pressing a wet kiss to the top of her boob. He's broken out of his dreamy state when he finally hears the knocking. "What the hell?" he groans and sits up on his elbows, still caging her in.

"I need to go see who's at the door," she whines and pushes at him. He whines as well and gets up, taking her hand in his to take them both to the front door.

"I'm going to kill whoever is out here," he tells her, and she laughs because she doesn't believe he's fully awake yet. She likes morning grumpy Harry a lot more than normal grumpy Harry. As soon as he opens the door, people are barging in.

"Finally!" Someone yells, and Y/N's able to place the voice to Niall. She watches as he, Mitch, and Sarah all welcome their selves into her home with bags of food. The chill from the outside makes her shrink into Harry's side, and he wraps an arm around her before shutting the door. He rubs his hand up and down her arm to create heat for her.

"Is someone going to tell me what you all are doing in my home on this Sunday morning? Not that I mind, of course," she says and hugs each one of them as they get their coats and hats off.

"We felt like shit after being the shittiest friends ever last night," Sarah explains.

"Hey-" Y/N begins to stop her, but Niall cuts her off.

"No, it's true, Y/N. Felt like my heart shattered in my chest when Sarah and Mitch came to me all panicked cause they couldn't find you," Niall explains. His eyebrow quirks as he watches his best friend, who seemed to still despise the girl not even twenty-four hours ago, wrap his sleepy body around her, his chin resting on her shoulder as his body pressed against hers from behind. "Though it looks as if it might have been for the best that we lost you," Niall suggests and cocks his head. Y/N shrugs her shoulders and purses her lips, saying 'yeah, I don't understand it either'.

"Anyways," Mitch breaks the silence. "We thought we'd bring you breakfast then go to the winter festival in town."

"Sounds perfect," she says and moves away from Harry to set the table. Harry has to physically stop himself from whining, but Niall, Sarah, and Mitch all see his pout and look at him with questioning eyes. He blushes under their questioning stares. When she walks into the kitchen to retrieve silverware, they start asking the questions.

"What the hell is going on?" Sarah asks first.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry says innocently.

"You're acting like her pet, and not even a full day ago, you couldn't stand her. I'm definitely not saying it's a bad thing, but what-" Niall stops speaking because he genuinely doesn't know what to ask.

"Look, I don't understand it either," Harry begins, "But I just- I don't know. Something's changed. There was some weird fucking pervert at the party that was scaring her, and then when we were in the car, she admitted that she was scared of me, and it genuinely killed me to know that I was grouped in the same space in her head with that dickhead from the party," Harry explains. "I don't get it, but my mind has completely flipped, and all I want to do is just be around her."

"Wow," Mitch was the first to speak.

"Yeah, I know," Harry groans. "We had a really good talk last night, and I think she's willing to move forward."

"You know, Harry," Niall speaks, "There's a saying that there's a very fine line between love and hate," Niall sings with a mischievous voice.

"I'm not even going to argue with that," Harry sighs, and none of them have any time to speak on Harry's crazy admission because Y/N is coming back into the room with silverware, plates, and napkins. She eyes the tension in the room.

"What were you guys talking about?" she asks.

"Nothing, Angel. Let's get you some food," Harry tells her.

The town was decorated in the most beautiful festive decorations. Y/N felt real joy for the first time in a long time as she walked through the streets filled with vendors with her friends. She couldn't help how cute she thinks Harry looks as well. He borrowed a hoodie from her and was in his jeans and sneakers. He wore the hood up as he munched on a soft pretzel he bought. She couldn't help the urge to whip out her digital camera and snap a picture, not realizing the flash was on. She blushes when she realizes he caught her.

"Hey!" he accuses her. "I'm trying to eat my pretzel here!" He complains and pouts.

"Sorry," she laughs. "You just looked really cute," she admits. His cheeks flush red before he quickly shakes it away.

"Yeah? Well, you're cuter, and I'm keeping this hoodie by the way," he tells her before walking away. She follows him quickly and loops her arm around his waist to catch him.

Harry's cheeks seem as though they're now a permanent blush around her. He'd always seen how affectionate she was with their friends, and he thoroughly enjoyed finally being a receiver because he loves physical touch- especially from a very beautiful woman.

"You can't keep my hoodie, you thief. I barely have any as is," she complains and slips her hand under the hoodie to feel the plush at his hips. He always hated the extra skin at his waist, but now he thanks his mother for it. He feels overtly bashful at her touch, like he wants to smile and kick his feet like a teenage girl with a crush.

"I'll buy you some more, Angel. Just tell me if there's a shop you want to walk in," he tells her gently and wraps the arm that isn't holding his pretzel around her shoulder.

"Give me a bite," she suddenly says. Harry gawks.

"Uh- sorry, what?" He stutters.

"Of your pretzel, you perv!" she laughs at his flustered expression.

"Oh!" he laughs and reaches his hand out in front of her to let her bite the pretzel from his hand. He gasps when she takes the rest of the pretzel into her mouth. "Hey!" he whines and pouts at his empty hand.

"Sorry," she apologizes once she finishes chewing. She squeezes his side as she speaks, "I was hungry," she says with an evil smirk.

"Rude. Very rude," he comments though he pulls her tighter against him.

Little did they know, all of their friends were snapping pictures of them from behind, snickering and chatting about the newfound lovebirds.

Y/N and Harry seemed to be attached by the hip as the weeks went on. It had been almost two months since their new friendship was born, and neither of them realized how much they would click. Many nights were spent having dinner, singing karaoke, and watching movies together. When they were with their friends, they were always attentive to each other and sitting by one another.

It's a Friday, and Harry was on his way to visit her library right now. He'd been visiting her a lot and using it as a nice place to get work done. Work had been pretty stressful for Harry recently. He was managing a project for his company that's building a new stadium, and it's challenging in ways he hasn't been before, so while he's thankful for the opportunity, it comes with a lot more planning and map-outs than usual.

When he walks in, he sees her at the counter. Her shift is over in an hour, and he told her he'd pick her up once she got off, but he decided he could get some work done while he waited.

She's re-binding a book when he walks up, totally engrossed in the practice. So much so that she doesn't see Harry looming over her across the counter. He rings the bell that sits next to a box of tissues on the counter. She jumps and gasps when she looks up. A bright smile quickly covers her face.

"You're here early, puppy!" She walks around the counter to greet him as he blushes over the nickname. Ever since they became friends, their friends joked about how Harry follows her around like a dog, so she decided the nickname was fitting.

She squeezes him tight and wraps her arms around his waist as she looks up at him. Her chin rests on his chest as she speaks.

"How was work? Are you sore? I can give you a massage when we go to mine. I've been watching a lot of videos because I know your back hurts you a lot, and-" She tends to lose all sort of mind whenever he's around, and he has to reign her in.

"Angel," he interrupts her and laughs when she pauses abruptly.

"Sorry, I was rambling," she blushes. He kisses her forehead.

"It's okay. I love hearing you speak," he tells her honestly.

Harry never takes for granted the way she speaks to him because there used to be a time when she was too afraid to.

"I would love a massage, my love," he tells her and kisses her temple. "Work was good- fun. Got to tear down walls today, and that's always really fun, and before you ask, I promise I was wearing all the right gear, so don't go scolding me," he eyes her, and she smirks.

"Good boy," she says.

Harry damn near busts in his jeans at her praise. She continues talking like nothing happened.

"Why are you here so early? I don't get off for another hour."

"I- um. I- I know. I was- I figured I could get some work done," he stutters out.

"Okay, silly," she laughs at his speech. She unwraps herself from him and walks behind the counter. "You can sit back here with me. I'm the only one working," she offers, and he nods his head. She places a stool next to hers, and they both get to work for the next hour.

"We've watched this movie a billion times, H! Not again!" Y/N complains when Harry tries to put on The Notebook for the millionth time. They're both cozied on her couch after eating some takeout sushi. Harry's wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats. Y/N's wearing a new purple hoodie Harry bought for her and a pair of tiny sleep shorts. Harry had been fighting the urge to stare at her thighs since they got back.

"Well, until you get some good movie taste, we're watching mine." They're banter was playful and not harmful.

Y/N huffed as he started the movie and scooted to other side of her couch, away from him.

"Don't be mad at me, sweet girl," he says before pulling her sideways into his lap. "Be mad at yourself and your terrible movies," he laughs and tightens his arms around her when she tries to escape his hold. She continues to squirm until he pulls her close and bites down on her neck. She lets an airy moan escape her lips as he sucks and kisses at the spot.

"Teething at me like a needy puppy," she tells him and cards her fingers through his hair. Y/N has never been with a boy before, so she doesn't know if what her and Harry are doing is normal or not for just friends, but she doesn't care. She just likes what he does. "Are you seeing anyone right now?" she asks him out of nowhere. The angst she would feel if he said yes would make her cry.

"I'm seeing you all the time," he tells her and kisses at her chin and jawline. It was when Harry got like this that she had a hard time thinking clearly. She thinks she would say yes to whatever he asked if he was being as lovey as he gets.

"I mean are you dating any girl right now," she corrects him.

"I know what you meant, Angel," he tells her. "I haven't seen anyone but you since the night of the party," he says honestly, and it makes her smile and place her head against his chest. He runs his fingers through her hair as he speaks. "It's totally okay whatever your answer is to this, but I wanted to ask you." Her head quirks up to look at him with a confused face. "Have you uh- Have you forgiven me?" He asks, and he immediately looks away. "It is more than okay if you haven't because I was incredibly awful to you for so long, and I know if I was you, I would have a hard time-" She presses her hand against his mouth to shut him up.

"I forgive you, Harry," she says. "Forgave you a long time ago," she tells him honestly and releases her hand from his mouth.

"You serious?" he asks, and she nods. His eyes well with tears, and he hugs her to his chest. "Thank you. I don't deserve you," he whispers into her hair and kisses her head. They watch the movie for a while until Harry speaks again. "You remember that night when I tried to kiss you?" He asks.

"'Course," she tells him, wondering why he's bringing it up.

"Have you kissed anyone since then?" She sits up to look at him.

"Now when would I have had the time to?" She gestures to his hold on her. "You've got me locked down 24/7," she laughs.

"Would you say no if I asked to kiss you now?" he asks, bracing himself for the answer. She takes a moment to think about it.

"I would definitely let you kiss me," she tells him, and he grabs her face, about to plant a big smooch on her lips until she stops him, laughing at his eagerness. "But wouldn't that make this weird?"

"Make what weird?" he asks.

"Us," she tells him.

"Nothing has to be weird unless you make it weird," he tells her.

"But- but we're in such a good place as friends-"

"Friends kiss all the time!" Harry counters, though it makes his heart clench at the thought of them just being friends. "Though I do think we're a bit more than that," he adds, and she smiles. He becomes serious again, holding both sides of her face in his strong, rough hands. "I'll make it so good for you," he promises.

"I don't know, puppy," she sighs, but they both know she wants it. She just wants to make him work for it a bit.

"Please, please," he whispers.

"Just one little kiss," she tells him. He nods his head and begins to lean forward. She cups both of his wrists like she had done that first night and breathes shakily until his lips finally meet hers. She sighs, her first kiss finally taken. She doesn't even know if it counts as a kiss because their lips are just pressed together until they start smiling against each other. She pulls back to giggle, but he pulls her back in, this time actually kissing her. His lips massage her own, and she doesn't really know what's she's doing, but she just tries to mimic his actions. He moans as she picks up on it quite quickly. "Okay," she breathes and backs away. Harry whines and cups the back of her neck to try and reel her in.

"Please. A little more. You're so good- taste heavenly," he comments. Harry feels like he's experiencing his first kiss again as well. Nothing had ever felt like that before. Nothing had ever felt so good. He could feel himself chubbing up in his pants just from the one kiss.

"I told you one kiss, Harry," she reprimands him, but he shakes his head.

"Was it not good for you?" He asks. He knows she enjoyed it. She's panting like a dog in heat, and he can see her subconsciously pressing her thighs together. He just wants her to kiss him again. "My lips not good enough for your perfect mouth, pet?" he asks with a pout and lets a finger caress her bottom lip.

"No, that's not it at all, Harry!" she says eagerly. "It was perfect. The best first kiss I could have asked for. I just don't want to complicate things," she tells him.

"It's already complicated, babe. That's our thing," he tries to reason, and she laughs. He can see her slowly start to let down her wall, and he takes the opportunity to lean down and kiss at her neck and jaw, trying to coerce her more.

"It did feel very good," she sighs and grabs the back of his neck, holding him against her own.

"Yeah?" he mumbles against her skin before sucking a hickey into her neck.

"Yeah," she moans softly. "Okay, okay, I don't care anymore. Just kiss me," she begs.

"Sound so sweet begging for me," he tells her and cups her cheeks, caressing her cheekbones with his thumbs. Her eyes well as she waits for him to lay one on her.

"Harry, c'mon," she whimpers.

"Don't cry on me," he coos. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you wait. I'll give you what you want, my love," he assures her and with that, plants his lips back on hers. She's more eager this time around. Her lips move more feral against his, and he groans deeply when she nips at his bottom lip. The exchanging of saliva makes her feel dirty in the best way possible. She's still sitting sideways on her lap, but her body is aching for her to straddle his thighs and grind against his crotch as she pushes her tongue against his. Harry realizes very quickly how dirty she is for being a virgin. Her tongue found its way into his mouth first, and she didn't hesitate to mold hers against his. Harry fights the urge to move his hands lower and grasp at her body, but he doesn't want to scare her by moving too quickly. Luckily, he doesn't have to wait much longer until she's requesting exactly what he wanted.

"Can I sit in your lap?" she asks breathlessly. She doesn't let him speak, instead missing the way his mouth felt against hers too bad that she kisses him again, her fingers tangling in his hair and pulling in a way that makes him whine.

"You are sitting in my lap," he mumbles against her lips.

"No, I mean like- Can I just show you?" she asks impatiently. He nods his head and chokes on his own spit as she straddles his thighs and presses her crotch down onto his roughly. "This okay?" she asks.

"S-so okay," he tells her and grips her hips.

"Why does that feel so good?" she asks rhetorically and continues to roll her hips against his.

"Baby- I don't think you know what you're doing," he tells her. She shrugs and continues to do it because it feels good against her pussy. "Wait, wait, wait," he makes her pause.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"More than," he assures her. "But I want to talk to you first before we go any farther."

"Okay, well hurry up because I would like to continue." He laughs at her horny, foggy mind that's making her bolder than usual.

"I need to know what all you've done- sexually speaking," he tells her.

"You know I'm a virgin, Harry," she says. "I've never done anything with anyone- well, until now," she smiles, and he reciprocates.

"Right, but what have you done by yourself?" he asks, and she blushes. "Nothing to be embarrassed about," he reassures her.

"I've touched myself before," she admits, and he tries his best not to whimper at the thought.

"Okay. Do you know all the terms of anatomy down there?" he asks.

"Yes, professor," she laughs.

"So, when you touch yourself, do you just play with your pretty little clit, or do you put fingers into yourself? Or do you have a toy?" She becomes bashful at his blunt speech.

"I usually do one finger inside and my other hand playing with my clit," she admits shyly.

"You're so fucking hot," he tells her honestly before grabbing her face to kiss her. She moans at his roughness. "Okay, okay, wait," he stops himself. She whines. "I need to know what you're comfortable with us doing, my love," he tells her.

"I just want to keep doing what we're doing," she whimpers.

"Okay? You like grinding yourself against me?" He asks, and she nods her head while biting her lip. Harry wishes he had his phone to take a picture of her. The embodiment of sex, and she didn't even realize. "We can both cum from that," he tells her. "You want to- Do you want to go that far?" he asks, and she nods her head eagerly. "Words," he commands.

"Yes, yes please," she begs.

"How would you feel about both of us stripping to our underwear, so we can feel each other a bit better?" he asks.

"Sounds really good, Harry," she says and immediately stands up to take her shorts off, but he stops her.

"You're incredibly cute with how eager you are," he laughs, and she turns red. He kisses her clothed stomach to assure her it's nothing to be ashamed of. "Let me take them off," he suggests. What she didn't expect was for Harry to sink to his knees in front of her and kiss at her thighs a bit first. It makes her feel extra hot having his mouth so close to her core. "Have you ever watched porn?" he asks suddenly as he bites a hickey into her thigh.

"Yes," she says breathily.

"What do you watch, dirty girl?" he asks as he sinks his teeth into the waistband of her shorts and starts to pull them down her legs.

"Um-" she stutters at the question.

"It's okay," he assures her. "It's just me," he says and squeezes her thighs in support. It was like those three words were all the encouragement she needed. He rests his chin between her thighs as she begins to speak.

"Well, I like to watch men um- eating out girls. I like to watch rough stuff, and I think I would like that a lot, but I think I would also like to just make love," she explains. "I also like watching girls giving blowjobs," she says suddenly like she had almost forgotten. "I also," she begins but stops herself in embarrassment.

"What is it? You're safe to talk to me, Angel," he assures her.

"I like to... read about things," she says.

"Okay. Explain," he tells her.

"Well, like- smut. I like to read little things people write about people fucking," she admits shyly.

"And what are the people doing in your favorite ones?" he asks.

"I like when they write the guy just being completely overtaken by his natural instincts to- to fuck the girl- almost feral- he's just taking what he wants, you know?" she explains.

"Did you know you're perfect? Like actually fucking enthralling?" he asks and basks in the way her face reddens. "I'm serious, Y/N," he tells her.

"Thank you, H. You're very captivating yourself," she comments.

"Oh?" he questions as he stands. His nose meets hers and they play tag with their mouth for a moment before she just leans forward and pecks him.

"You're an incredibly beautiful man. Always thought so- even before," she says honestly. His heart twists a bit at the mention of before. "The most alluring man I've ever seen," she tells him.

"You can't mean that," he disagrees, and his breathing shakes when he feels her play with the waistband of his sweatpants.

"I can, and I do," she tells him and presses her hand over the large bulge in his sweatpants. He actually moans from the contact- not expecting it from her.

"You're dirty," he gasps, and they both laugh. She doesn't waste another second before pulling his sweats down his legs and letting him step out of them.

She sits on her knees to love on him a bit. She's always loved his meaty sides, and now that she has the opportunity, she doesn't think twice before sinking her teeth into his loves handles. She smiles when he gasps as she kisses and nipples at his flesh. She surprises him once again when she presses her mouth against the bulge, letting her hot breath feed into the fabric and to his cock. He wants to push her away because he's afraid he's going to cum too soon, but he also knows that's the stupidest idea when he's got the most irresistible woman in the world with her mouth on him. It's when he feels her lick at his tip through his briefs when he back away and sits on the couch, shielding his clothed dick with his hands as if to protect himself from her.

She smiles at him as devilishly as an angel could. "You have an oral fixation," he notes, and she shrugs.

"Let's get to the fun stuff," she whines and crawls all the way to the couch and onto his lap. Harry doesn't think he's ever been so fucking turned on.

"You know you're every man's fantasy?" he asks, and she cocks her head in confusion. "A hot librarian," he expands, and she laughs.

"Yeah? You want me to read you a bedtime story, baby?" she asks, trying to make her voice sound sultrier, and it works. Harry's dick twitches in his boxers.

"I'm gonna cream in my boxers," he warns, and she laughs.

"Please, don't. We haven't even had any fun yet," she complains, and he shakes his head in amusement.

"Just start rubbing your cute little cunt on my cock," he instructs her, and she wastes no time before she puts her hands on his shoulders and begins to rut against him.

"Oh," she gasps. From the way his dick is positioned in his underwear, it's perfectly laid out for her to rub her clit against. "Is your- Is your dick big?" she suddenly asks. Harry, who was in a trance already from the way she was shamelessly grinding on him, splutters for words from her question.

"W-What?" he asks, his hips jutting up to press against her roughly out of instinct. They both moan at the sensation.

"It just- It feels really big, and sometimes you get a big bulge in your pants," she moans and bounces on his lap, trying to catch her clit on his tip.

"I have been told it is- yeah," he tells her. To be honest, he knows his dick is big. He knows it's really big. He usually would be cocky about it, but he doesn't want to scare her.

"Can I see?" she asks breathlessly.

"What?" he asks, his eyes bulging out of his head.

"Well," she begins, her hips stopping their movement. "I was just thinking that if maybe you were naked that it might feel better," she tells him. Harry's frozen in shock, but she takes it as him being unsure. "C'mon, please," she begs. "I'll let you cum on me," she adds.

"Where?" he asks.

"My- my pussy," she says quietly.

"Hop up," he tells her, and she quickly crawls to the spot on the couch next to him. She's about bouncing from how excited she is.

"Take your shirt off too." He laughs at how demanding the virgin is being.

"Need to spank your attitude out of you," he says as he takes off his shirt.

"Yeah, right," she scoffs but is silenced with his glare.

"I'm not going to show you my dick if you're going to be mean," he tells her and watches how her eyes round with wetness.

"I'm not being mean!" she complains.

"Yeah, you are, pet. And I'm being so nice to you- showing you everything, and you're acting like you don't care," he reprimands her. He's surprised when he feels her arms wrap around his shoulders in a hug.

"I'm sorry, Harry. Please, puppy. Show me, please. I'll be so sweet to you," she pleads, her voice muffled in his neck. Harry smiles, feeling like he's won the jackpot in life.

"Give me a kiss first," he commands, and she acts quick. Because she acted on fast movements, her hands lands his neck to stabilize herself. Harry moans at the pressure it provides for him.

"You like my hand around your neck?" she asks. He feels himself begin to nod submissively but remembers that he needs to be in charge for the moment. He switches on her, instead cupping her neck with his hand. She gasps, and her jaw falls from the movement.

"I do, baby, about as much as I like my hand around yours." He uses the grip he has on her throat to pull her closer and spit into her mouth. She moans and swallows easily. "Okay, enough foreplay," he tells her and releases her neck to shimmy his underwear off. The gasp he hears from her when his dick comes into view is welcomed gladly.

"It's so big, H," she tells him and continues to stare at it. She gulps at the thought of it being inside of her.

"Don't have to worry about it being inside you tonight, pet," he tells her as if he could read her mind. "It's gonna make you feel so good though."

"It's so pretty, puppy," she tells him, and she feels the urge to put her mouth on him, but she holds back, not wanting to upset him.

He pets her hair as he talks to her, "Can we try a different position than last time?" he asks.

"Whatever you want to do," she tells him, and he smiles.

"Just make sure to let me know if you don't feel good or like what I'm doing," he asks as he cups her face. She smiles softly and leans forward to lightly kiss him.

"Thank you for doing this, Harry," she tells him sincerely and places another kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you for letting me," he says. They both lock eyes and their lips meet again, completely forgetting about what they were supposed to be doing. The kiss is passionate instead of rough. Their lips are eager but not rushed. Harry ends it with pecking her lips a few times, making her giggle. "Okay, enough sap. We can do that after. I feel like I'm going to burst," he says, and she laughs.

"How do you want me?" she asks.

"On your knees, face pressed against the couch," he tells her, and she blushes before complying. Harry moans as she sticks her ass in the air. He's quick to get on his own knees behind her. He holds his dick up and places himself against her, grabbing her hips once he's in place. They both groan at the contact. He slowly starts to use the leverage he has on her hips to grind her against him, making sure to angle her up, so her clit is grinding against him.

"That feel so good, puppy," she whines and begins to throw her hips back at him. His hold on her tightens, but he allows her to help his efforts in making them both feel good. Harry has never done anything like this before, and it feels so fucking good. He raises her up enough so that her clit is catching at his tip before he lowers her back down to rub along his length. He thanks his job for the strength he has to lift her up and down on him like this. He takes a break from the rubbing to harshly thrust his hips against her as if he was fucking her for real.

"I can't wait to have my dick inside you," he moans.

"Yeah, baby?" she asks breathlessly, and he whines a yes. He groans when he feels her wetness seep from her panties onto his cock.

"Creamy little pussy," he moans and takes his dick away from her for a moment to rub his finger on her clothed clit. Her hips just forward at the surprising touch, but he lightly spanks her as a warning to stay in place. His finger ventures up to press at her hold through the opening, and the whiny moan that she releases only makes him press harder.

"I wanna see your face," she says quietly, and he could almost cry from how sweet she sounds. He taps her hip, so she takes the hint and turns around to lay flat on her back. She smiles up at him once she can see him, and he can't believe there was ever a time where he hated this girl.

"You're so beautiful, and you're doing so good for me," he tells her as he cups her head and kisses her hair. "Do you feel good?" he asks.

"Very," she answers quickly. "I want to try something though," she says shyly.

"What is it? Whatever you want," he assures.

"Can I show you?" she asks, and he nods his head. He gasps when she wraps a gentle hand around his dick, a bit of precum slipping from the tip when she gives a little tug. He thinks he dies when she slips her underwear to the side and places her bare dick against her naked pussy. She throws her head back at the contact and more cum oozes from Harry's dick.

"Oh, baby," he moans and places a hand on the length of his dick to press down on it as he glides against her pussy. She isn't shaved, but she's trimmed and well-groomed like Harry is, and it makes it feel so much better with the extra sensation. He uses two fingers to spread her open, so his dick rubs right over her clit, and he thinks she might die at the expression she makes. Her mouth is dropped, and her eyebrows are scrunched together in pleasure. She holds her thighs up and apart for him, and he doesn't think he's ever felt so attracted to a human.

"You're leaking so much," she moans as she looks down at them together.

"It's for you- It's all for you," he whines and ruts against her harder. She loves seeing him so whiny and submissive. She moves her panties so that her dick is actually inside of them now, so he doesn't have to hold it down anymore, and it makes them both moan to watch the erotic scene unfold. Her cotton panties are becoming see-through with their combined wetness.

"Love your dick, H," she moans and presses on him through her panties.

"I love your pussy," he moans back. "So fucking creamy and soft," he adds.

"I'm gonna cum," she tells him and grabs him by the back of the neck to kiss him. It's sloppy, and they're basically just trading saliva, but it makes it so much hotter. They're both so far gone.

"Please, Angel. Baby, please cum for me. Let me feel it," he says and moans when he feels her push on his dick harder, the pressure making her orgasm. It's intense and prolonged because Harry never stops moving. He can't help but cum as well when he feels his tip catch her hole. He fights the urge to just stuff her full with his dick, instead cumming against her pussy that's still covered by her, now, ruined panties.

"Wow," she breathes as they both feel the aftershocks. She pulls her panties to the side, and they both moan at the mess they created. He takes his softening dick and spreads his cum all over her. He leans down to smear a wet kiss against her lips, and they both sloppily make-out until Harry's weak arms give out, and he lays on top of her. They fall asleep in each other's embrace.

It's Y/N's second party.

This one is already going much better than the last. Harry hasn't let one second go by that he doesn't have some sort of physical contact with her. It's been two weeks since their moment at her house, and he hasn't let her forget about it.

Right now, Harry and Y/N are standing in the kitchen talking to some of Harry's friends. Well, Harry's talking to them, Y/N's basking in the way he has her back pressed against his chest, and how his hand is casually resting at the bottom of her throat. His casual dominance makes her pussy throb.

"You okay, pet?" his voice in her ear spooks her until she relaxes back into his hold. His friends are occupied with themselves for the moment, so he takes the opportunity to love on her, pressing a kiss to her cheek and discretely squeezing at her throat.

"Y-yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought," she explains.

"It's okay. Just let me know the second you're ready to leave, and we can go," he promises her. She rolls her eyes and turns around in his hold to look at him. His hands gravitate down to hold her ass with a smirk.

"You know you don't have to babysit me, right?" she asks.

"Not babysitting. Why would I want to be without you?" he asks like she's acting dumb. She goes to speak, but she's interrupted by his fratty friends.

"Hey, H! Come play beer pong with us!" One of them shouts at him and shoves at his shoulder, making both him and Y/N stumble a bit. He goes to reprimand him, but Y/N stops him.

"He would love to!" she tells them when she turns around.

"Y/N-"

"No, H. Go have some fun. I'll be fine, I swear. I'll go find Niall," she assures him.

"Harry, dude, c'mon. Tell your babe goodbye for like twenty minutes, man," they all laugh at how whipped he is. Harry glares at them. Y/N makes the decision for him.

She kisses his cheek and says, "I'll see you later!" Before she scurries away to find Niall. Harry's grumpy as he goes to play beer pong.

Y/N somehow found Niall easily. All she really had to do was stop for a second and listen for his laugh to follow it. It had been about thirty minutes since she had seen Harry, and she was certainly missing him.

"Can't believe how whipped H is for you," Niall tells her as they walk outside to find the firepit. His arm is slung protectively around her shoulder, and her hand is holding his that's wrapped around her.

"He is not," she counters. "We just like to spend time with each other," she explains, and Niall gives her a knowing look.

"He told me about the other night," he informs her.

"He did not!" she says suddenly and releases herself from his hold.

"He's my best mate, of course he did," he says easily.

"I'll kill him," she says seriously and starts to walk off to find him.

"Oh, c'mon, Y/N!" Niall whines and hugs himself over her shoulders as she storms off, trying to find the culprit. "It's not like he told me what all did! Just that you got a bit intimate but didn't go all the way," he explains. She grimaces when she spots where Harry is with his friends playing beer pong. Well, where he's supposed to be playing beer pong. Instead, he's talking with a girl who's a bit too close for Y/N's liking. Y/N also doesn't like how into the conversation Harry looks. He's talking with his hands, and his facial expressions are animated.

"Let's go inside," Y/N says suddenly, and Niall furrows his eyebrows.

"Why-" he begins to ask but then stops himself when he sees the reason she wants to go inside. "C'mon," he tells her and doesn't give her an option to say no before he's wrapping a strong arm around her shoulder and pulling her along.

"No! I don't want to see this!" she complains, but Niall says nothing as they approach the group. Harry's telling the girl something when his eyes land on Y/N. It's like his whole world stopped, and Y/n doesn't have time to process anything before she's being engulfed in a rough embrace and kisses are being pressed all over her face.

"Y/N!" His voice is loud and joyful. "Niall, get off her," Harry scolds, and Niall just laughs.

"Don't be rude, H," Y/N tells him, and Harry pouts. He sinks his head into her shoulder and holds her tightly around her waist.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Niall," he says loud enough for Niall to hear. His words are slurred.

"It's alright, H," Niall just laughs.

"Harry, this is nice, but I can't breathe," Y/N tells him.

"I wish I was small, so I could climb in your lap," Harry says randomly, and Niall's loud laugh is heard for miles. "It's not funny!" Harry complains. "Oh, wait!" Harry abruptly turns around to face the girl he was talking to who's looking at him unamused now. "This is my wife, Y/N. She's who I was telling you about and why I did not want to make-out with you at all!" Harry looks and sounds disgusted at the thought of making out with the girl, and Y/N gasps. Niall's laugh somehow grows louder. "Once you've tasted her fucking mouth- oh, fuck," Harry groans just thinking about Y/N's mouth. "And her pussy- holy shit!"

"Harry!" Y/N scolds. The girl walks off coldly.

"Bye!" Harry tells her, but she doesn't even look back at him. Y/N turns around to find Niall bent over, hugging his stomach in amusement. "What are you laughing at, Niall?" Harry asks him and goes over to hug him.

"Nothing, H," he says once he's put himself together enough. "You drink a little bit, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," Harry says with an evil smirk. "I was so shit at beer pong, so I drank like so much, dude," he tells Niall.

"I think we should get you home, buddy," Niall tells him, and Harry whines. Y/N comes up to Harry's side and wraps her arm around his hip. He seems to remember that Y/N was there and gasps.

"I missed you so much," Harry mumbles into her hair.

"Harry, I would like to go home," she tells him.

"Okay, let's go!" he agrees with ease, and Niall rolls his eyes. Y/N, Harry, and Niall all make their way outside and to Niall's car. Y/N gets into the backseat because she expects Harry to sit in the front, but she's surprised when he climbs in right after her and sits so close he should practically be on her lap.

"Oy, what do I look like? An uber?" Niall says when he realizes he's alone in the front. He starts his car up and starts driving towards Y/N's house.

"Sorry, Niall," Y/N says and grunts when Harry encircles her waist with his big arms and smushes his face into her neck.

"It's alright. I'm just messing with you, babe," he tells her.

"Hey, don't call her that!" Harry grumbles.

"Don't be rude, Harry," Y/N scolds and lightly swats at his head.

"She is my babe, H," Niall tells him, just to mess with drunk Harry some more.

"She's not your anything!" Harry cries.

"Niall, stop messing with him," Y/N now scolds the Irish man, and he just laughs in return. She suddenly feels a hand on her cheek and Harry planting kisses all over her face. He moves his hand down to rest at her neck, so he can angle her face however he wants. "Niall, can you hurry up? I'm being attacked," Y/N says.

"I'm a law-abiding citizen, Y/N," Niall tells her.

"Oh, please. I've seen you speed to go get a donut," she grumbles and grimaces when she feels a tongue lick her cheek. "Ew, Harry!" she pushes at him, but he doesn't move.

"You taste so good," he says before he erupts into a fit of giggles. "Fuck, I wanna suck on your tits," he groans randomly, and Y/N thanks God when they finally pull into her driveway. "Alright, goodbye guys," she sighs before getting out of Niall's car. She raises her eyebrows at Harry when he tries to follow her out. "Um, what are you doing?" she asks him.

"Uh, spending the night with you," he responds like she's acting dumb.

"H, I'm going to take you to your house," Niall tells him.

"What? No!" he cries and hugs Y/N's waist tight when she tries to walk away from where she stands outside the car.

"H-" she begins to say, but she's stopped when she sees Harry's eyes full of tears and his whimpery voice begging.

"Please, I'll be so good for you," he pleads, and she sighs. Niall doesn't know whether to laugh or be disgusted. He settles on taking a picture of a sad Harry practically wrapped around Y/N to send to him later. "Please, Angel. I don't want to be away from you," he cries, and how can Y/N argue with his pitiful little state?

"Alright, H. C'mon," she tells him and leads him out of the car.

"Good luck," Niall tells her before she shuts the car door and lets him drive off. Harry suddenly grabs her face and plants a sloppy wet kiss on her lips. She doesn't even have time to react before he's running up to her door.

"We're going to have so much fun!" he yells, and she shushes him, grumbling about her having neighbors. He waits impatiently for her to open the door, and once it's open, he's running inside in search of her dog Pickle. Y/N shakes her head, wondering what she's gotten herself into especially when she sees Harry laying on the floor with Pickle licking at his face. She grimaces, setting her stuff down and taking off her shoes before she makes her way to Harry.

"Let's get up and go to bed," she tells him, but he shakes his head and pouts like a toddler.

"I don't want to go to bed! You're being boring," he spits, but there's no real spite behind it.

"Fine, you can stay out here by yourself then," she says, knowing it will make him get up and follow her. As she's walking off to her bedroom, she hears Harry get up and scurry off in search of her. She quickly shuts herself into her closet to change before he catches up to her. Once she's changed into a large t-shirt and just her panties, she opens her door. She's not prepared to see Harry in just his boxers sitting at the edge of her bed pouting. She pretends to not notice him as she makes her way to her bathroom and does her nightly skincare and brushes her teeth. He follows after her quickly and shadows her routine, washing his face and brushing his teeth while looking at her expectantly the entire time.

Drunk Harry was needy for her.

Once they're both finished, they crawl into her bed. The lamp isn't even off before Harry is laying on top of her, weeping into her neck.

"I'm sorry," he cries. "Don't ignore me!"

"Why should I talk to you? Being so mean to me. Where's my sweet boy?" she asks, willing herself to not put her hands anywhere on him to mess with him more.

"I'm here, I promise," he whines. "You're not boring- not boring at all. You're the best person, and I love you." Y/N feels like the blood from her body was being drained at his drunk confession. "Don't be mad at me. I'm sorry. Am I being annoying? Oh, I am. I'm so sorry," he continues to cry.

"Puppy, I'm not mad at you," she tells him with a giggle. She finally lets her hand card through his hair, her other hand going to rub at his back.

"Okay, good," he says and begins to kiss at her neck again.

"You're incredibly needy," she sighs and leans her head back to give him more access to her skin.

"Yeah? Fuck, I'm so needy for you," he tells her, and her eyes grow wide when she feels him start to subconsciously hump at her leg. She feels his dick start to harden in his boxers.

"Maybe we should stop, H," she warns him.

"Why?" he whines like the thought of stopping brings him physical pain. His hips thrust into her thigh with more determination.

"Because you're drunk," she tells him.

"So? I want you just as bad when I'm not. I'm just better at being chiller about it," his speech slurs. "Can I suck on your tits?" he asks, and she feels one of his hands snake under her shirt to feel the bare skin of her stomach.

"Um," she stutters.

"Please? It'll help me sleep," he claims. "You can even turn off the lamp if you don't want me to see," he tries to convince her even further.

"Okay," she relents. She reaches over to turn off the lamp, so they're welcomed into the darkness. Harry wastes no time before his legs move to straddle her thighs, and he's lifting her shirt to feel at her breasts. They both moan when he glides his fingers over her taut nipples. He squeezes at them in handfuls and moans at the sensation.

"Fuckin' perfect," he sighs. She feels him scoot down so that he's resting his body weight against her now, and his mouth wraps around one of her tits. She gasps at the feeling and tries to work out the horniness she feels because she genuinely does want them to sleep. He spends some time swapping at both her breasts, biting, sucking, and kissing at both of them before he rests his head on her and keeps one of her tits in his mouth to lull him to sleep. The feeling begins to feel relaxing for her, and she feels herself start to drift to sleep as Harry sucks on her breast. She falls asleep with her hand in his hair and her boob in his mouth.

When she wakes in the morning, she's surprised to be in an empty bed. She thought for sure that Harry would still be resting on her chest or in her bathroom heaving over the toilet, but instead she feels no weight on her chest, yet she smells bacon and pancakes through her nose. She does her business in the bathroom and makes her way to the kitchen when she finishes. What she walks into is a sight she would love to wake up to every morning. Harry is in nothing but his boxers as he flips pancakes and sears some bacon on her stove. She says nothing for a long moment, just observes him. She finally decides to make her presence known when he walks over to the sink to wash some of his dishes once he finishes cooking the last pancake and piece of bacon. She feels his body tense then quickly relax when her hands wrap around him from behind and rub at his tummy.

"Good morning," his rough voice greets her, his body tensing with delight when her hands run over his abs and lower belly.

"Morning handsome," she greets him as well and rests her cheek on his back sleepily as her hands continue to wander. "How are you feeling?" Referring to his intense night of drinking.

"Better than I deserve," he laughs in self-deprecation. She laughs as well. "Honestly don't feel bad at all," he tells her and once he finishes the dishes, he turns around in her hold to see her beautiful morning face. He brushes a few strands of hair out of her face. "Are you feeling okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, I barely drank anything," she shrugs.

"Um, how are your- your uh," he stutters, and she's confused until he looks down at her chest. She laughs lightly.

"Not sure. Haven't seen or felt them yet," she says honestly.

"Can I look?" he asks. She gawks. "I just want to make sure I didn't hurt you!" he explains honestly. She eyes him.

"Okay," she agrees nervously and begins lifting her shirt. She looks away as he looks at her.

"Oh, shit," he gasps.

"Are they ugly?" she whines and goes to bring her shirt back down, but his hand stops her.

"No- they're- they're fucking perfect, but I- I fucked them up a bit," he admits honestly. Her eyebrows furrow before she takes a look for herself. She gasps too when she sees the damage he did. They're littered beautifully with hickeys and a few bite marks. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," he tells her, and she looks up to see his eyes watering. She shakes her head as if to tell him not to feel bad.

"Is it messed up that I kind of like it?" she admits.

"You do?" he asks.

"I really do," she says and bites her lip. She finally drops her shirt to cover her abdomen again. She felt awkward just having her tits out in the middle of her kitchen.

"I really like them too," he admits as well and wraps his arms around her waist, bring her closer to him and leaning his face close to hers. He kisses at the corner of her mouth, and she sighs in contentment.

"Do you remember anything from last night? Anything in particular that you might have said?" she asks.

"Are you asking about me telling you I love you?" he asks boldly.

"Possibly," she replies.

"Well, what's to ask about it?" he wonders.

"Well, is it true?" she asks quietly and looks away from his gaze out of nerves. She feels his fingers gently grip her chin to make her look at him before he leans down and presses his lips against hers. She sighs into the kiss and wraps her arms around his neck to press him against her harder. Both of his hands cup her throat, and his thumbs rest at her jaw to direct her in any way he likes. He parts once he feels he's running out of breath. He rests his forehead against her own, and she looks up at him with expectant eyes.

"I love everything about you," he admits.

"You also called me your wife," she says with a grin.

"You are my wife- just without all the legal papers and rings and whatnot," he explains, and she shakes her head with a laugh.

"Harry, I want to have sex with you," she admits breathlessly and watches as his eyes grow wide at her statement.

"Are you- Are you sure?" he asks.

"The surest," she tells him honestly.

"You want me to be your first?" he asks and presses a quick, light kiss to her lips.

"And my last," she adds and sees him swoon. He takes a deep breath before speaking.

"Okay. Okay- um. Well, let's eat first. We need- It's good to have energy," he stumbles his way through his sentence. She whines in complaint.

"No, we can do that after," she says and goes to pull at his briefs, but he snatches her hands and leans in close to her face. The dominance radiating off him makes her sink into herself.

"I'm not going to fuck you if you don't listen to me," he warns. Her eyes gloss over. "Be sweet for me and go set the food on the table. I'll get our drinks," he instructs, and she scurries off quickly to obey. She's standing awkwardly by her own table when he walks in, and he chuckles lightly. He sets the drinks down and slowly approaches her. He cups her cheeks, and she nuzzles into his touch. "You're not scared of me, right?" he asks, wanting to make sure her behavior isn't out of fear. She shakes her head quickly with furrowed brows.

"No, no," she assures. "Just... want to please you," she explains and turns her head to kiss the inside of his palm. He smiles at that and leans in to slowly kiss her.

"Good," he says against her lips. "Then be good for me and sit on my lap while we eat," he tells her and smiles when she blushes. He sits down first and guides her by her waist to sit down sideways on his lap. She wraps one arm around his shoulders, lightly scratching at his hair as he cuts her up some pancake. He feeds her a few pieces with one hand on keeps the other arm wrapped snug around her waist. He goes to give her another piece, but she shakes her head and takes the fork from his hand to feed him instead. It goes on like that until all of the bacon and pancakes are ate. There's a tension that settles in the room once the plates are cleared.

"Please," she whispers, and that's all Harry needs to hear before he's carrying her off to her bedroom. She giggles when he throws her on her bed and crawls after her, hovering over her excited body. She moans when he rests his body weight on her and kisses her like he's starved. His tongue finds its way into her mouth quickly, and the once innocent kiss becomes messy and sloppy. Harry's pulling away from her panting and with swollen lips. He moans at the sight of her- bare-faced and fucked out just from a little kissing.

"Can I take your shirt off?" he asks roughly.

"You can do anything you want," she answers seriously, making him laugh.

"Don't speak too soon," he tells her before shedding her of her shirt. He moans at her only clad in underwear, her breasts beautiful and littered with his markings. "Oh, baby," he whines and gently tweaks her nipples with his fingers. She gasps and arches her back away from the bed. "Are they sore?" he asks before leaning down to flick his tongue against her nipple.

"A bit, but that feels good," she tells him. She moans when he kisses down her body and to the edge of her underwear. He bites the waistband of her panties and pulls back only to let go of them and let them snap against her skin. She whines at his teasing and buries her hand in his hair to encourage him to do something. He grins at her impatience.

"Bratty little virgin," he remarks, and she tugs at his hair as a warning.

"Big annoying man-whore," she retorts back, and he laughs before lightly slapping her clothed mound. Her body jumps at the sensation, but he's quickly tugging her back into place. He presses his mouth against her clothed pussy and blows hot air against her. She squirms at the new sensation.

"You need to stay still," he tells her and places his hands against her thighs, spreading them in the way he likes. He spends more time licking at where he assumes her clit is by the sounds she makes. He flattens his tongue and licks over her panties, moaning when he begins to taste her wetness. "Can I take these off?" he asks, but his hands are already dipping into the waistband to take them off.

"Please," she tells him and lifts her hips to help him take them off. She feels a bit exposed now that she's naked. She nervously closes her legs, but he quickly snatches them open again.

"Don't do that," he warns her. His jaw drops when he sees her bare pussy, a moan tumbling from his lips. "I missed her," he groans, and she shakes her head in annoyance. "Let me tell you what I'm going to do to you," he tells her, and he's suddenly hovering over her face, her eyes wide. "I'm going to make you cum on my tongue- finger you a bit until you're stretched," he pauses to act like he's going to kiss her, only to pull back at the last second. "Then, I'm going to fuck your sweet little virgin pussy. That sound okay?" he asks, though it's not really a question. Y/N nods her head vigorously and throws her arms around his neck to kiss him. He moans against her mouth, but before she could slip her tongue into his mouth, he pulls away. "We can do more of that later. Let me taste you," he says, and she bites her lip as he pushes down her body.

"Harry, do something please," she whines and grips his hair in her fingers. He pries her thighs apart and begins with a long lick from her hole to her clit. She throws her head back and lets out a long moan, her fingers fisting in his hair hard enough to make him whine, so she immediately let's go and apologizes. "Sorry! I'm sorry!"

"No, baby," he tells her and places her hands back in his hair. "I like it, I promise, so pull all you want," he assures her and quickly gets back to eating at her. He essentially makes out with her pussy, not caring about how messy or wet anything was getting. He pushes her thighs apart farther and shoves his tongue as deep as he could push into her hole. Her moans and whines could barely be heard over his own. His tongue curls and tries its best to get all of her in his mouth. He's addicted to the way she tastes. He takes his thumbs, using them to spread open her hole wider, so he can really insert his tongue inside her and taste her better.

"Fuck, Harry," she moans. It's like nothing she's ever felt before. It's so much better than anytime she's gotten herself off. Harry himself is pure sex, and it's hard to not let her brain get all muddled around him. "I'm gonna cum," she warns and digs her fingers deeper into his scalp when he switches to flicking at her clit quickly and moving his head side to side. Her orgasm is strong and continuous, taking her a few moments to actually breathe her way to the end. She has to push his head away when the overstimulation begins. He crawls up her body and kisses her cheek.

"I'm gonna have to go down on you again some time tonight," he admits, and she laughs at his eagerness. "Do you feel good? Was that okay?" he asks.

"Yes, and yes," she answers.

"Let me know when you feel ready, and I want you to cum on my fingers at least once before I fuck you," he explains, and she blushes and is a bit taken aback by how he can just talk about this stuff so easily. He sees her blush and smiles. "Don't worry. You'll be as dirty as me soon." His hand moves to her throat, and he teases her lips with his. "Corrupt your innocent little pussy and have you begging for me all the time," he tells her and kisses the corner of her mouth. She shudders.

"You sound very sure of yourself," she tells him.

"And your pussy already loves me. Just let it happen, babe," he sighs, and she giggles.

"M'kay," she agrees in content. "I think I'm ready now." He smiles before he begins to move.

"I'm going to sit behind you, so it will feel a bit safer and more comfortable for you," he explains, and she could almost cry at how thoughtful he is. They maneuver around so that Harry's is against the headboard, and Y/N is leaning back against his chest. He starts by reaching around and grabbing her throat, turning her head so that he can kiss her. They make out for a bit until Harry gets too impatient. "I'm going to start with one finger. Let me know if anything doesn't feel right, okay?" He kisses her cheek for reassurance. "Why don't you rub at your pretty clit while I finger you," he encourages, and she nods. She starts to rub at her clit, and her body sinks further into Harry's. His hand wraps around her, and he brings it to her mouth. "Get it wet, baby," he instructs, and she doesn't waste another second before welcoming his finger into her mouth and getting it wet with her tongue. She sucks on it like it's a dick and swear she feels Harry's dick twitch in his boxers. He takes his finger out of her mouth and rests his chin on her shoulder, embracing her from behind to see what he's doing.

"Feels so nice already," she admits and leans her head back, so they're faces are pressed cheek to cheek. She kisses his cheek right as his finger begins to circle her entrance. She bites her swollen lip and rests her forehead against his temple. He slowly enters the finger, and her hips grind upwards to push it in deeper. "I can take it, H. I promise," she assures him.

"You're tight," he hisses, his own jaw dropping as he feels her warm gummy walls embrace his finger. "And so wet, fuck," he groans, and he can already feel her wetness dripping down his finger.

"Feels really good," she admits, her own fingers still working circles around her clit.

"Can I add a second?" he asks.

"Please," she begs and nods her head in encouragement. She moans when he feels his second finger prod at her hole. She's tight, but there's no resistance as the second finger slides into her.

"You're going to be my perfect cocksleeve," he tells her, his head turning so his mouth is pressed against her cheek, her jaw wide in pleasure. She's almost panting. "Pussy's gonna make me cum so fast and so fucking hard," he admits. "Are you on birth control?" he asks suddenly.

"Yes- yes," she nods her head, throwing it back when his fingers begin to curl inside her.

"Shit- you gonna let me fuck you raw?" he asks and punctuates his words by beginning to thrust his fingers inside her faster. Her pace on her clit quickens to his speed.

"Yes- Oh, fuck- that sounds so good. Wanna- I want to feel your cum in me. Want you to- oh- fill me up," she fights to speak as her orgasm approaches.

"Oh, yeah?" he asks, meaning for it to sound condescending, but it comes out whiney. He's on the verge of cumming himself.

"I'm cumming," she warns, but he just keeps his fingers moving inside her. Her orgasm seems stronger but doesn't last as long. The overstimulation comes quicker. "Okay- Okay," she winces and pushes his hand away. He removes himself gently as to not give her any pain. He doesn't waste a second more before he's sucking all her orgasm from his fingers, his eyes rolling into his skull at the taste. Once he cleans himself off, he wraps his arms around her waist to hug her to his chest as she gets her breathing under control.

"You did so fucking well," he praises, and she smiles.

"Thank you," she tells him and kisses his cheek. He looks at her, and when their eyes meet, they both feel the intensity. Their lips meet instantaneously, and she begins to turn around to straddle his lap. One of her hands goes to the back of Harry's head while the other cups his cheek tenderly. His hands settle on her waist, being careful not to make her grind over him in case she's still feeling any overstimulation. When she begins to mess with the waistband of his underwear, he pulls back.

"If you- We don't have to do anything else if you don't-" He's cut off by her hand groping his clothed dick. Harry's back slightly arches off the bed, and he moans quietly at the surprised touch.

"Trust me, I want to," Y/N assures him with a grin. She helps him get his underwear off and then gets back on his lap. They're positioned so that Harry is sitting up at her height as well, making it more intimate than if Harry was just laying down below her.

"It's going to feel deeper this way," he warns.

"Good," she says with a sly smirk, and he shakes his head with a smile.

"You're amazing," he says randomly. She smiles softly before leaning forward to kiss him. It doesn't last long because she's eager to have him inside her.

"I don't- I don't know what I'm doing," she suddenly admits with a laugh, and he laughs as well.

"I'll do all the hard work," he tells her. "Rub at your clit. It will help relax you," he explains, and she listens obediently. She has to raise herself a little so that Harry's dick can be placed at her entrance. "I'm going to push in, but I'll go very slow," he assures her with a serious look. He was so scared to hurt her.

"Thank you, Harry," Y/N smiles and continues to rub her clit when she feels the head of his dick press into her hole. They both gasp at the sensation, and Harry's presses her down until only his tip is inside her.

"Good?" he asks.

"Yes," she moans and fucks herself on the tip, in the process she sinks down about another inch.

"A fuckin' natural," he tells her. He's a little bit over halfway when she presses at his stomach. His eyes dart to hers that are closed shut. "Are you okay? Do you want me to take it out?" he asks in a panic. She laughs at his worriness.

"No, puppy," she tells him. "It's just a lot, and I've never felt anything like this before," she explains, and he nods his head in understanding. "Starting to feel really good, though," she admits and scratches at his abs. She sinks herself a little farther down.

Harry's trying to be on his best behavior, but his instincts are telling him to just grab her hips and start fucking up into her. It's the best pussy he's ever been inside of, and he knows she can feel him throbbing inside her. His balls are tight and round, stuffed with cum that belongs shoved inside her tummy. The thought almost sends him over the edge, picturing her belly and tits, that are still littered with his marking, round and swollen with him. His baby in her womb. The thought makes him whine.

"Are you okay?" she asks with a chuckle.

"Feels- feels too good," he whines and has to throw his head back when he feels her seated on his lap, having taken him all the way in. He squeezes his eyes shut tight, willing his orgasm away. He thinks all it would take at the moment is the sight of her innocent little body being corrupted, his fat cock shoved as far as it can be inside her pussy.

"It's deep," she comments, her voice almost as whiney as Harry's. Her eyes narrow at him and his distraught expression. He's still refusing to look at her. "Seriously, are you okay?" her voice suddenly worried.

"Yes. I'm sorry," he apologizes. "I'm trying not to cum yet," he explains. "You feel- really, really lovely. The best pussy I've ever been in," he moans.

"It's okay if you want to cum, Harry. I've already cum so much, and this alone feels really good," she assures him, leaning forward to kiss his lips. He whines into her mouth.

"No, no- I think I'm okay for now," he sighs and finally looks at her. He feels as if he just brought himself back to square one. She looks so perfect sitting on top of his cock it almost makes him cry. She's rubbing at her clit and biting her lip with the cutest smirk on her face. "I won't last long," he admits.

"Me neither," she agrees and begins to move herself on him. Her hips grind against his pelvis, making his dick press into spots she didn't know existed. She stops rubbing her clit and instead presses her hands against his shoulders for extra help.

"Fuck- don't even need my help," he comments. "Already the perfect slut," he says through a moan. Her eyes narrow at him.

"I can f-feel your dick throbbing inside me. Who's the- the real slut?" she stutters, the feeling of him stretching her out making her brain foggy and incoherent. He whines at her assertive tone and feels his balls tighten. He sits up further so that he can hug her waist, pulling them close together. He uses his leverage on her to bounce her on him, and the new feeling makes her third orgasm approach quickly. The intimacy of the moment adds to the intensity of her approaching orgasm. They stare deeply into each other's eyes as they both begin to finish with each other.

It's like nothing Y/N's ever felt before when his balls start to leak his cum inside her. Her own orgasm hits her like a truck when Harry's seed starts to fill her womb. He looks so beautiful fucked out in front of her, his eyes welled with tears of pleasure much like her own.

"I love you," he moans and dips his head into her shoulder.

"I love you too," she moans back, wincing when she begins to feel the overstimulation, though Harry's still finishing inside her. "Damn, you had a lot in there," she laughs, and he blushes into her neck. His hips rut into her on their own accord until he finally begins to calm down.

Harry's face leaves its hiding spot in her shoulder, and he looks up at her like she's everything in the world to him. And she is.

She's his whole world.

+++++++++++++++++

im never fucking looking at this story again. took tooooooo long. hope you enjoy though 🤪

[woso-dreamzzz]

Outburst IV

Leah Williamson x Child!Reader

Summary: You go on a podcast

"And you know, as well as being a footballer and playing with Less and Tooney, you're also a mother to a little girl."

Any mention of you makes Leah smile and she glances off camera to where you're sitting with a crayon and a sheet of paper.

"Yeah," She says, that same dopey smile on her face as she tears her gaze away from you," She's four."

"And she's here today."

"Yeah, I almost didn't bring her because we're recording this so early but my mum had to cancel so she's just behind the camera. I think she's-"

"I'm drawin', Mum!" You call out and Leah grins.

"Are you, bug?"

"Uh-huh! Is it my turn yet?"

Leah glances at Vick Hope. "She loves a microphone. I may have promised her a turn on one of the mics in return for waking up so early today."

"Oh, yeah," Tooney says," We've got to have Bug on here."

"If you're okay with that?" Vick checks.

"Yeah. Honestly, I thought she would have interrupted more. She's very excited. Lovebug, do you want to come over here and you can have your turn?"

You're up like a shot, practically tripping over yourself to get to Leah.

The others have to hold in a coo as you come into view.

You'd arrived today in a big puffy coat and was immediately set up behind the camera, blocked by all the staff and the equipment.

Now they can see you clearly, in a pair of old Arsenal kit shorts but a white t-shirt instead of a jersey, black cardigan and a silly black hat just like Leah's, looking every bit her mini apart from the old Jordan shorts you're wearing.

"Alright." Leah lifts you up onto her lap and lowers her mic so it's more your size. "You happy now?"

You frown. "It's not like Auntie Alex's mic."

"Auntie Alex?" The strange woman that's not Less or Tooney asks.

"My auntie Alex always lets me use her mic at games because I have important things to say and mics help people hear me!"

"Alex Scott," Leah puts in, bouncing you on her lap slightly," Bug really loves her."

"Almost as much as I love Mummy!" You turn to look at the strange woman again. "My Mummy plays for Villa in Berm-ham."

"Birmingham," Leah interrupts again and you tilt your head back to look at her, patting her cheek.

"It's my turn now, mum," You tell her," You have to wait your turn to speak again."

Tooney sputters slightly and Alessia has to bite her lip to stop the laughter threatening to come out at Leah's affronted face as you land another condescending pat on her cheek.

"Mummy plays in Berm-ham," You say again," So I see her every other week. She plays for Villa but I like Arsenal more." You puff out your chest. "When I'm older, I'm gonna play for Arsenal."

"Bug already trains with us," Alessia says and you let her talk because she doesn't have to wait her turn because she doesn't share her microphone like you and Leah do," She's very good."

"And I go on camp! Sarina calls me up every time because I'm so good!"

"You must be," The strange but nice lady says," Because you've got two mummies who play football and you must work super hard."

"I do," You say, bobbing your head up and down," Mummy says one day I'm going to be scoring every game because I'm that good."

"We're very proud of our Bug," Leah says and you only let her have a little turn because she's being nice," She always does her very best."

"Enough for a puppy?"

Leah's face drops. "You've got Blu at Jordan's," She reminds you and you perk up suddenly, turning back to your new microphone again.

"Blu's my birthday buddy!" You announce gleefully," We're the same age! And we share a birthday!"

"Wow, that sounds really cool. You must really love your dog."

"I do! I do!"

"Do you miss him when you're on camp?"

You think for a moment. You've never really thought about if you miss Blu on camp before.

Camp is fun because you're got the other girls and auntie Keira and auntie Lucy and Mum and Bear. You've never really stopped to think about Blu when there's already so much to do at camp.

You shake your head. "I miss Bear more."

"Bear's Keira and Lucy's kid," Leah explains," They're best friends but they don't see each other too often because she lives in Barcelona."

"Bear's kind of funny," Tooney says," She's always nappin'."

"Don't be mean!" You snap suddenly, leaning all the way over to smack Tooney on the arm.

"Bug!" Leah groans," We've talk about using our nice hands. We don't hit."

You huff, sitting more firmly on Leah's lap again and crossing your arms over your chest. "No being mean about Bear! She naps because she's tired! Mum says napping is good, right?"

"That is right, Bug. I do say that."

You nod, turning back to the strange but nice lady. "Bear is my best friend and I love her."

Leah grins down at you, adjusting your hat slightly.

"Keira and I aren't huggers but those two certainly are. Always having a little cuddle those two are."

You frown, a little furrow in your brow. "But you are a hugger, Mum. You always give me cuddles."

"Well, yeah, Bug but I was talking-"

"You don't like my cuddles?"

"No, Bug that's not what I'm saying. I just meant-"

Your bottom lips wobbles and you move to slip off Leah's lap. "I'm sorry, mum. I won't have cuddles anymore if it makes you feel better. No more Bug Hugs. Promise!"

"No, Bug," Leah says firmly, pulling you closer into her body, arms curling around your body," I love Bug Hugs. I always want Bug Hugs from you."

[queers-gambit]

Never Make War in Anger

prompt: ( requested ) after being separated on the battlefield, your husband cannot locate you among the carnage, so he comes to rely on Nenya.

pairing: Elrond x female!wife!reader

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 5.7k+

note: a little burnt out so this isn't much at all. my apologies.

warnings: accidental LOTR Merry quote, purposeful LOTR Aragorn quote. i don't think there's foul / explicit language but i'm blind to it. gaslighting, marital spats, small angst, some spoilers, probably more hurt and comfort, brief breaking of the Fourth Wall, some blood, minor injury, happy but brief / abrupt ending, adapted and edited Poppy s2e8 monologue.

Despite the light The Rings of Power brought back to Lindon, it had never felt so dark than in this moment. You stood in the middle of your chambers, tears in your eyes and few dribbling down your cheeks while facing your husband - who was equally as emotionally distraught.

"What're you saying?" You spat. "That you intend to seek new living arrangements?"

"I need time, my star."

"From me?"

"For now, yes. Until this matter with the Rings is resolved, we'll only prolong this hurtful cycle against one another."

"So, your solution is to separate?"

"For a time - "

"How can that be your decision!?"

"How can you be so delusional!? These Rings are not what we think - "

"'Delusional'!? Oh, the nerve of you!"

"A poor choice of wording, but - where are you going!?"

"To live my delusions! By all means, Elrond, take all the time and use all the space you should need!" You snarled at your husband, storming away from the shared bedchamber as tears of frustration threatened to blind you. Rushing down the golden halls of Lindon, you relied on mostly muscle memory before nearly colliding with Commander Galadriel - who startled at your (rare) emotional state.

"Commander - "

"My apologies, my Lady," you rushed, trying to skirt around her in an effort to seek solace. But her hand extended to snatch your elbow, bringing you to a halt.

"My friend... If there's something wrong, I would hope you know, you might confide in me?"

You nodded, "Yes, my friend, I know."

"Then what's the matter?"

You did not intend to sound so condescending, but your scoff was now unrestricted as you sneered, "You've eyes to see with and ears to hear, surely, it is not a riddle."

"The Rings?"

"What else does my husband feud with us over?"

Galadriel sighed, releasing your arm only to drop her hand to yours and give a supportive squeeze. "I am sorry for the turmoil you experience at my hand..."

"I was as much at fault," you shook your head, "defending you to the King - going against Elrond... Surely, it did not help when Lord Círdan echoed us. Must've felt like everyone was against him - you, me, the High King, his - "

"He doesn't think we are against him - "

"Oh, no, merely that we are delusional."

"Well, that seems a touch harsh...?" You offered her a pointed look, making her gasp slightly, "Do not tell me - he has weaponized his words against you?"

"He's much practice."

"I will speak to him - "

"You would get farther talking to a tree, Galadriel... Just leave it be..."

You shook off her hand to make your escape, escaping the palace grounds and seeking solace by a quiet stream. You stared at the fish in the clear water, swimming in circles that your mind raced in; envious of the seemingly peaceful life the gilled creatures lived. You felt overwhelming guilt, hating that you were at odds with your husband, but hating the impending doom over Middle-earth more. The threat to humanity wasn't something you could morally ignore, but it wasn't something your husband could either; being why he was so adamant the Rings of Power were influenced beyond the pale by Sauron.

You argued the good of Galadriel and Celebrimbor and even himself outweighed Sauron's - by comparison - minuscule hand. Sauron was but a drop in the vast ocean of creation; and not even Sea Worms could overshadow the waves of benefit offered.

Elrond said the Rings couldn't be trusted.

You thought he was becoming paranoid.

When you refused to consent to his side, he proposed separation - thinking distance would give you both time to calm down. After demanding to know how he could've come to that decision, he accused you of being delusional; and, well, you know the rest, Reader...

Well, the separation never truly stuck because in the following days, High King Gil-galad dispensed Elrond's company; which resulted in Galadriel's capture and both the formation and deployment of the Elvish armed forces. At the helm, your husband, and amongst the ranks, yourself; along with kin, neighbors, and friends.

You soon rode to devastation and loathed the idea of riding away on such silent terms with your husband. So, you sought him out under the support of your closest companion and usual second-in-command.

"Elrond," you tried to speak to him before the final leg to Eregion; both mounted on war horses of great height and muscle. He was stood gallantly under one of the several surrounding trees, looking ever bit of a Commander as you had been appointed as in the decades past.

"Are you all right?" He asked stiffly, making your defenses go up automatically. The bustle of the preparing army drowned your conversation.

"Yes, I just... I do not wish to depart on such tense terms, husband."

He nodded, sending several curls bouncing as he readjusted his stirrup leather for a more suitable length. "All is forgiven," he eased.

"I don't remember apologizing."

Elrond sighed through his nose, looking up to meet your eyes for the first time with his thin lips set in a straight grimace you were unaccustomed to seeing. "Have you come to prolong this fight or make amends?" He asked tersely.

"Make amends for a fight I did not start?"

"Doesn't matter who started it, what matters is the means of our argument! The content behind it! The morals now in question and the foundations we base ourselves upon!"

"I'd have to agree," you snapped. "I came to offer words of parting and tidings before we ride into combat, but should this be the time we need to argue, then please, let us take it." Your horse snorted as if in agreement, tossing its head defensively. "You and I stand on opposite sides of the Rings, we will not see eye-to-eye on that, yet you hurled such distasteful words at me. How do you think we should proceed?"

Elrond sighed deeply, sounding dismissive, "With respect, beloved, we're about to charge into the unknown, right now isn't the time for our marital woes."

You scoffed, nodding, "Noted."

"Wait, I did not - "

But you had already spun your horse and encouraged the stallion to trot away. You passed the High King, nodding with respect before moving to the helm of your legion - still Commander of the Southern Armies, just not the active leader of this particular united devision of Elves. You surveyed your company with a small smirk, nodding in impression as your second-in-command rode to your side.

"What news?"

You accepted the helmet he handed over, nodding in thanks as you sighed deeply, "We march for Eregion, Erthon, there's no other news of discussion."

"Did you speak to Elrond?"

"Barely," you chuckled. "Come, let us not fret over such trivial matters such as my marriage. We ride to war today, my friend."

"To war then, Commander," he smirked, offering his hand for you to clap - which you did before the King called all to attention. You listened to the rousing speech Elrond wrote, not a single syllable sticking as your brain was far too occupied with the frustratingly trivial matters of your heart. However, when the first brigade of horses started after their commanders, you quickly followed suit as the procession moved out of the safety of camp for Eregion's aid.

It was a hard ride, but at long last, you gathered in ranks and charged at the opposing army; only to halt and wait for negotiations conclude, then charging (again) through the Orcish camp at Elrond's command. Your advantage was the use of horses, able to cover distances and barrel through both structures and bodies of your enemies. Yet horses still fell to the marshes and jagged arrows, to blunt axes and the ammunition of trebuchets. To enemies. To mistakes. To war.

Carnage surrounded you, whether your own forces or the Orcs or the beasts used in battle, death swept through all. You fought for hours, sun chipping away through the sky; losing sight of loved ones and loyal soldiers. "Elrond!" You sobbed in relief upon locating him across the field. You called his name twice more, catching his attention finally.

When he saw you, he called your name and hacked his blade to any surrounding Orc so he could move through the mud for you. "My love," he panted, reaching to take hold of you, "I-I think we need to retreat?"

"Are you asking me?" You questioned, holding onto him for balance; wincing when blood soaked into your boots.

"I think?" He sniffled, "There's too many of us falling, my love, I don't think we can - or should, I don't think we should - "

"I know," you nodded, reaching for his cheek.

"I'm not - I don't think I can - "

"Hey, look at me, look at me!" You had to shake his shoulders, holding him by his curls in a nonthreatening grip. "I know. But Elrond, hey, you command our forces, you command this army. Remember why we marched, what we're fighting towards, what this is all for. So sound the retreat if that's what must happen, or keep your soldiers fighting, but only you get to make this decision, my love; you're our Commander, we will listen to any command you give."

He nodded, tears gathering in his honied eyes. "I wish you weren't here, amongst this carnage; but I'm so grateful that you're with me," he muttered, foreheads finding each other in a show of silent affection. He pulled back, "About earlier - "

"Earlier wasn't the time, now certainly isn't either, my sweet," you laughed with a nod. "You need to go rally the others, I've got Orcs to kill."

"Stay safe," he pleaded, hands squeezing each other as you started to move apart.

"Stay alive," you replied, forced apart several yards, turning slowly when your husband called your name.

"I love you," Elrond reminded, watching your mouth pull in a smirk, opening to reply... Before his eyes widened when he saw the horse too late. It barreled into your back, knocking you into a muddy pit of active fighting to the desperate sounds of him crying your name.

"Commander!" Elrond heard behind him, but couldn't answer. He was viciously fighting towards where you fell; horse galloping away, but your body lost to chaos. "Commander, no! Please!" Erthon caught his middle, yanking Elrond backwards several steps only to shove both hands to his chest. "No! No, hey! You're needed at the front, Commander, they need you at the wall - "

"My wife just - "

"I saw, I know where she fell - I'll look for her, Commander, I swear. Please, you're needed! Go!"

Elrond had no choice but to flee. Erthon searched the field in vain.

"Commander?"

From the last of the group who had snatched you from the battlefield, you hacked the Orc's head from his shoulders with a furrowed lip, discovering Arondir where the fallen enemy once stood. "My friend," you mused casually, transitioning fluidly to use your bow and fire three arrows at distant Orcs before they could rush you. "While it is a joy to see you, I wish it were under better circumstances. Are you injured?"

"No," he sniffled, "are you?"

"Good. No, no, I am well enough. Are you currently under direct command?"

"No, my Lady. What do you need of me?"

"The people of Eregion need out of the city, I know the tunnels to get them to safety in the woods, but first, I need you to cover my way in."

"You can depend on me, Commander."

"I know I can, Aronidr," you smiled, clapping his shoulder. "Thank you, my friend. Find Commander Elrond after this."

Together, you and Arondir searched for the easiest path into the city, using aerial advantages to clear out the Orcs best you could. When your quiver ran dry, you thanked the solider of Mirkwood and scaled into the city under the protection of his watchful eye, skillful aim, and quick hands. Once inside, you crept around paths and alleys thoughtfully to get around any surplus of Orcs, happy to take out any stray few; quiet and calm as you navigated the city.

Checking where you could, it was a hard feat to discover any surviving Elves through the rubble and destruction until closer to the main settlements. When you found a group of few survivors, you encouraged them to follow you to safety and lead them through secret tunnels with dripping black blades. Nearing the end of the tunnel, you paused the group in the shadows to let you step out first; glad for it when a company of Orcs tried to ambush you, only to meet their brutal end. Though out of breath with minor injuries from the band of enemies, you still stood, victorious.

"This way," you directed, limping to lead into the woods. "Here, this way... Up ahead... C'mon, stay together, almost there... Step carefully, stay together... Just up there... This way, here, just up here, good, come, quickly now."

Up a subtle path of a hill, you trekked through wild foliage.

"Who goes there!?" A voice cried out in terror, making you halt the others. After a brief investigation through tree limbs, you discovered a small gathering of other refugees; all quivering in fear, looking at you with the hopes of salvation. "Who are you!?" A young man asked.

"Southern Commander of High King Gil-galad's Army," you named, twirling your twin blades in hand that sent a splatter of black blood to spray on near-by leaves. "Who brought you here?" You ask in return, lungs pinched.

"The Lady Galadriel..."

"Good," you nodded, waving your pack forward. "Stay here, stay hidden, I'm going to go back for others. When I return, we're going to move deeper into the woods to accommodate however many can be saved."

"You're leaving us!?" One of the Elleth's squealed. "But we are undefended, vulnerable! You leave us here for slaughter?"

"I understand your worry," You nodded to the young lass, petting her bicep. "But Lady Galadriel and I have both brought you here because it's safe. Safer than in the city, safer than wondering around - aimless and blind. Where we are is off the known path; on high ground, so it's not to be stumbled upon; and see those slopes?" You pointed to where you wanted them to see, "This wee place is slightly sunken, so it's hidden for your protection. Huh? Yes?"

You waited until she nodded in return to squeeze her arm in encouragement before releasing. There was a collective agreement to listen to you, letting the survivors gather tightly together before rushing back for the mouth of the secret tunnel. You spent over an hour searching for other survivors, gathering as many as you could and giving them cover and moving them out of the city; killing as many Orcs as you could in the process. Again, you moved out of the tunnel, checking for any enemy, finding none, and ushering the group into the woods. When you arrived at the others, you took a couple of the healthier Elves with you on the path further up to a more suitable, larger, still hidden cove for them to seek refuge in. They agreed to lead the others while you went back for more.

You only managed a few other trips before the Orcs fully sacked the torched city. You couldn't go back, even sustaining a stabbed thigh and arrow to your shoulder on your last escape; but while you couldn't save more Elves, you could help the ones you did. So, you ushered them further from the city, hiking into the mountains carefully with consideration to location and position of the enemy. Over ridges and fallen trees, around bends and away from the beaten path, you finally settled in a naturally protective cove to await others while providing medical aid to those who needed it.

Day broke. Durin didn't come. The city burned. Your tears wouldn't fall.

There were no more words. Elrond was past defeated.

Before night fell, he lost sight of his beloved wife just seconds after declaring his love - haunted by the cruelty of her being robbed the opportunity to reciprocate. As the fighting progressed, he had attempted to search the carnage - but war demanded his attention elsewhere. The urge to entirely give up was great, but the desire to punish any and everyone responsible for this pain overrode him; hacking, clawing, fighting into the night. Yet soldiers fell to the left and right, in front of and behind him; older, younger than he, friends, kin, peers, superiors, strangers, comrades alike.

There was an inkling they might've stood a chance when the sun rose, yet hope diminished when his emissary, Vorohil, returned with sustained injury and the message that Durin shut the doors of the mountain. Their forces had been decimated already, a lesser-than match in numbers to begin with, but without Dwarven aid, the surviving Elves were eviscerated mercilessly. No help was coming, and the Orcs were charging across the bloody battlefield for the last of them.

In the fresh light of a new day, Elrond's throat was seized in Adar's vice grip; lifted from his feet; the fight extinguished like a blown-out flame from his soul as blood and mud dripped from swirling armor. Adar's lips quirked, "Your wife put up... Such a fight, Commander," his hand tightened, crushing Elrond's windpipe. "And here you are, surrendering... You would so willingly let her sacrifice... Be in vain?"

Tears leaked from the corners of Elrond's eyes, glaring at Adar silently - though, it wasn't as if he could respond if he tried. Spying Nenya on a chain around Elrond's neck, Adar quickly disposed of him back into the mud, where the half-Elf did not move again until Orcs were taking few prisoners of war. Few, meaning Elrond, the High King, and Mirkwood archer, Arondir; after their Dark Lord Sauron commanded the Elvish leaders be taken alive and the rest be slaughtered.

Before interrogations or bodily harm could be inflicted, the Orcs were caught off guard by a Dwarven invasion rushing into the fallen city; giving the Elves an opportunity to rebel. Elrond watched Gil-galad and Arondir fight in tandem, debating for several moments if he cared enough to join their efforts, thinking all he had left to fight for was gone from these shores. Yet watching the Dwarves stream into the city posed as the kindling to light the fire Elrond needed under his ass to rise to his feet and defend his brethren and self; noticing what he thought to be a familiar Dwarf. Durin had not come, but still sent his forces as promised (but late); Elrond being informed the Prince was "in mourning", further confirming Sauron's dark hand had crept to different corners of the continent.

There was no victory. No celebration. No true relief, not even for survivors - the toll too heavy.

On his knees in the mud, watching Adar advance, mourning his wife and refusing to accept his Dwarven ally had abandoned him, Elrond bowed his head and silently demoted himself. Gil-galad saw this, could recognize the agony of defeat; neither saying a word as he assumed command, like a good king would. Now, Gil-galad ushered his people from the crumbling city just in time for a new wave of Orcs to begin razing it to the ground. Using the same hidden tunnels, the Elves found themselves isolated in the woods. Arondir had to keep personal hold on Elrond, who wanted to return to the city and search for his wife's remains for a proper funeral. He was assured you'd be recovered with the rest of the fallen forces, but it sent him into further distress.

The King and Arondir had witnessed Galadriel's fall from the cliff, being where they first thought to go. It was there Elrond found Nenya, holding it in hand as if weighing the weight of the world; and to him, he was. The Ring twinkled and chimed, begging him to be used; his sad, defeated eyes glancing at his fallen friend, debating what was morally correct. Did he turn and run to find the other half of his very being, a presumed corpse, or did he stay and heal Galadriel, who still, before him, had a fighting chance?

"We're losing her," Arondir worried to the King.

"The darkness is too powerful," Gil-galad worried. "I cannot save her."

"I can," Elrond announced quietly, sure of his decision, but feeling disappointed in himself. His eyes lifted to Gil-galad's, declaring, "We can."

Elrond pushed Nenya definitively onto his finger and knelt to the King's side. They worked together to withdraw Sauron's poison festering black and bubbling in Galadriel's open shoulder wound, Arondir watching with wide, tear-filled eyes in sheer awe. It was a strange sort of process, Elrond never having wielded such a powerful token before; doing his best to focus on the optimal outcome as Gil-galad chanted in both Sindarin and Quenya. Elrond's eyes shut, keeping his emotions at bay; hand trembling in exertion until the King decided enough was done for now and it was up to Galadriel to come back to the light. The half-Elf dropped back to the dirt, deflated and exhausted, looking to the two other Elves.

"What now?" He pondered. "Where do we go from here?"

Gil-galad had no answer, but Arondir's brows furrowed in concentration. "My Lords?" He asked from the other side of Galadriel's unconscious body. When the King and his Herald looked up, the archer nodded, "Is the Ring supposed to do that?"

On Elrond's hand, Nenya seemed to pulse like a beating heart. "My King?" Elrond asked, moving his hand closer, which made the light twitch. He jerked back, the light changing again; confusing the three. "It's... It's communicating, I think," Elrond whispered in wonder.

"Listen to it," the King encouraged softly, watching Elrond closely in fascination.

Slowly, Elrond lifted to his feet, hearing something distant that grew louder by a single degree. "It's twinkling," he narrated, the light steady now that he was stable. "I think it wants us to do something." It took a bit of assessment, but eventually, Elrond was able to decipher, "The light glows brighter when I hold it to this path, I think we're meant to follow."

"To safety, perhaps," Gil-galad agreed. "Arondir, how fairs your health? Are you able to carry Commander Galadriel?"

"Of course, my King."

"And Commander Elrond, you will lead us," the King directed, leaving no room for argument. He paused to help Arondir lift the injured Elleth, Elrond just having enough time to confirm their path before they were following after him.

It felt supernatural: depending on Nenya after leading such a hardcore smear campaign against the piece of jewelry. Yet even Elrond could not deny the drench of light he felt flood through him as he began to understand the Ring's language; now, effortlessly navigating the woods. Over ridges and fallen trees, around bends and away from the beaten path, Elrond pushed the branches from view to discover a protected cove dotted with injured, but surviving Elves of Eregion.

It was incredible, the sheer number of survivors, and few more milled about; obviously in better shape to offer aid and comfort to those not quite as put together.

From meters away, Elrond saw a flash of familiar armor and froze. He heard Gil-galad speak his name, yet could not react or respond as surely, his eyes played some devious trick. He stuttered your name in earnest confusion, wondering if by some stroke of fate, by doing good and choosing to save Galadriel, the Ring of Power then lead them here... To their people... Lead him back to you.

"The Valar are blessed," he told Elrond when he noted you in the slight distance, watching his Herald stumble forward with another call of your name.

This time, you heard him; springing up as if waiting for his return. In reality, you absolutely were.

Tears sprung to even the most stoic of dry Elvish eyes, witnessing such a reunion as one between two spouses after battle after-after a petty marital feud. You hadn't shoved anyone from your path, per se, but you hadn't exactly been polite in getting around them to sprint at full speed across the distance until there was simply no choice but to barrel into your husband's arms. There was just enough time to fit together like dirty puzzle pieces, where your arms magnetized around his neck, his around your waist, before crashing into the dirt.

You both helplessly sobbed, holding onto the other in suffocating fashions; an issue, if you both weren't so overwhelmed with post-war fantasia. Elrond sat up first, yet did not dare relinquish his hold on you for a fraction; maneuvering to fit you on his lap for a mutually easier hold. Your noses nuzzled ears, cheeks, and each other; hands caressing both unblemished and torn, bloodied flesh; hearts beat erratically, but in sync.

Nenya gleamed in approval with steady light.

"You're alive," Elrond gaped, at last finding his ability to speak.

"So are you," you breathed with sorrowful relief. "I was so worried, love, I - "

"You!? My star, y-you - you went down in front of me, I-I-I thought you were dead, injured at the very least. I tried searching; at different intervals, even, I tired searching for you. I sent Erthon after you, too, but you were - you were just gone! I could not find you - how? How did you - How did you escape? How did you survive?"

"My love," you breathed, foreheads kept together by either hand on his cheek, "I will answer you, but remember: we are alive, we are reunited, we are together. I need you to breathe."

"No, no," he refused, tears drowning him, this time lifting his hand to hold your cheek in anchor, "please, my star, do not try to pacify me now, I will have my moment, I am beyond the bounds of relief. I thought you died, my wife, I watched you go down and could not reach you, could not find you. All I managed to think of all night was my Rúmil, how we rode to war in such anger and were separated. We had all this missed time, spent being angry, and losing you on the field, I thought it was forever. Relief does not describe what I feel now, to hold you in my arms. I'm so sorry, my star, please - "

"I forgive you, for everything, anything, and nothing at once. So long as you extend me the same curtesy?"

He sniffled and nodded against you, quieting to just exist together as one. To recharge. To apologize without the words that are sure to come later. To relish in each other's still-warm flesh and understand that in order to vanquish this accursed evil from the land, there could be no more division, only solidarity. Softly, you answered Elrond's inquiries, explaining to him what happened to you; how you had spent the latter half of your fight tunneling survivors from the city, laying in wait when the city was sacked.

"And then, my love," you hushed, "there was-was-was this procession of-of Dwarves! A whole entire legion, all in formation, moving with incredible speed, if I may say myself."

He half-smirked in return, "Durin sent a company to our aid. Though, I wish it came sooner."

"It came not a moment before it was supposed to. Tell me, how is it you found us? Did Erthon find you first? We sent spare soldiers out to scour for survivors, few have straggled in." Elrond shook his head, retracting his arm to display his trembling hand between you. You gasped softly, admiring, "Nenya." Then, realization hit you, looking to Elrond with wide, bewildered eyes, "You used the Ring?"

"To heal Galadriel, then to find you," he nodded, tears returning. "We can argue about it later - "

"There's nothing to argue over, Elrond," you promised, catching his cheek to softly caress his skin with your thumb. "Thank the Valar you found it. Thank you for finding us... For finding me."

"In every lifetime, I would find you," he promised in Sindarin, foreheads naturally falling together again.

"Now," you sniffled, pulling back to survey the group, "our people grow by the minute... We cannot linger, we'll be found. We should move along, away from the city; by nightfall, these hills will be swarming with Orcs. But - " You cut yourself off, staring at Elrond with brows lowered in concern.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Your husband worried, but you only pinched his chin and directed his attention to the side.

"You're cut."

"Oh, uh, it's nothing - "

"No, it's not nothing, it's a cut. It's a cut, Elrond!"

"It's just a scrape."

"It still weeps!"

"There are greater injuries to those around us."

"That may be, but you are of the greatest importance to me, and therefor, should receive - "

"My love - "

"This will scar!"

"Then it scars," now Elrond chuckled patiently at your usual fretting, relieved for the familiar heat of endearment to his veins. "Let me a moment longer to bask in the glory that is my wife, I have missed her gravely," he begged quietly, taking both of your hands in his and bringing you close for a long awaited kiss; still sat in the dirt of the beaten path you would soon trudge to find salvation.

While usually a hopeless romantic, Gil-galad was forced to step forward, "I hate to break apart this moment." He waited until Elrond turned to meet his eyes, "But we need to move on, it's not safe to dwell here. We need refuge."

"We'll push on," you agreed softly, the King agreeing. You waited for Elrond to stand before offering your hands, making him snicker. When you stumbled from your stab wound, Elrond caught you quickly - all traces of humor wiped away.

"What happened?" He demanded, seeing your torn tunic used as gauze around your thigh.

"Got hit on the way out of the city, my love, nothing severe," you promised. "The Orc died - painfully - and I had it looked at already, it's bound for now. It will be cleaned when we can make camp."

"Good, all right," your husband accepted with a sniffle, looking around as the King was rousing his people to stand and begin their trek. "Where do we go from here? Where are we leading these people? Their salvation or doom?"

You were close to shrugging when your eyes caught sight of softly blinding twinkling light, pulling Elrond's hand to display. "I think we follow you, my love," you whispered with a smirk, sounding definitive, "to salvation."

Together, you aided refugees to their feet and down the southern path Nenya seemed to agree with. Eventually, your people streamed from the hillsides on their own, allowing Elrond to seek you out among the traffic and wrap his arm around your waist.

"Let me help you," he insisted when you tried to wriggle away.

"I'm not broken, my love."

"No, just stabbed."

You were ready to argue, but a particularly gusty puff of wind blew the unmistakeable scent of char into your nostrils; the trees clearing on a small, passing overlook to reveal billows of black soot. Plumes of smoke. The source of sprinkling ashes. You did not say anything, no words able to ever fill this mournful space; pausing to stare at the devastation and destruction you had both escaped. You held your husband's hand and leaned gently to his shoulder, mourning one of the greatest losses all of Elvendom would ever know.

With dejection, Elrond rounded from the sight and asked, "What're we to do now, my star? Where do we lead these people? How can we fix this?"

You swallowed thickly and shifted so you stood side-on, squeezing Elrond's hand. "You know, I don't think I've ever told you about when I was a child, after I lost my family... Before we met," you smiled gently, his intrigue piquing, turning to face you, "for a time, I was under the care of an Elf named, Faithor."

"What?" He asked in shock. "You mean, the warrior?"

"Hm," you nodded, "the very same. He was everything you've ever heard of and more, but that's not the point, the point is, when my family first perished, I struggled with acceptance. This made me... A devilish child, I'll admit," you shared a smirk, "but Faithor was patient, dedicated, and pragmatic. He told me that this world is so much bigger than any of us that sometimes, we lose sight of perspective; that the wind is always gonna blow against us, and sometimes, it'll simply be too strong and we just have to accept it. There's no changing the wind. That no matter how hard we fight, how much it hurts, what we wish and want and pine for, how much our hearts yearn," your head shook and voice teetered to a hush, "some things that break, cannot be fixed; what's lost, is lost forever. To put back together that which shatters," you gestured towards Eregion, both heads turning to watch Celebrimbor and Durin's tower topple, "cannot ever be made whole again. Cracks, even in porcelain, will leak, so... In these moments..." One hand held Elrond's, the other lifted to caress his cheek and encourage his attention back to you, "The best any of us can do is try and build something new."

Your husband's lips twitched slightly, offering a soft huff through his nose in appreciation. "C'mere," he mumbled almost inaudibly, tugging you closer while simultaneously stepping into your space. His arms came around you, taking a moment to bask together before he pulled back and nodded, the tears in his eyes never receding. "All right, starlight," he whispered, "let's go try to build something new."

"Together," you agreed, dropping a quick wink before latching back onto his waist and rejoining the thin stream of refugees marching the unknown path. You were stable enough that you and Elrond could walk at a slightly quickened pace alongside your people; encouraging some who lagged behind and assisting those who needed it along the way. Despite his good nature and inability to refuse to help others, Elrond never strayed (far) from your side the entire hike; the separation finally officially concluded - as if it never happened to begin with.

requesting rules and masterlist

TROP masterlist

[kittenintheden]

*dumps her random characterization and voice notes into your lap* here hope this helps

- Astarion speaks a little bit like a man removed from time and a little bit like an Upper City patriar, but not excessively so and not as a rule. Posh and embellished, but not completely avoidant of slang or casual swearing. Like a person who was once in a certain position in life, was ripped from it, and then spent a very long time in survival mode among people of lesser station/education. His mouth is often ahead of his brain. Many of his pricklier interactions are a direct result of trauma response. He longs to be in control, of his circumstances and of himself. His terms of endearment make subtle shifts from insincere and condescending to genuine and affectionate. When he feels threatened, he becomes distant and detached. He's funny, in both an awkward unintentional way and a very intentional witty way. He walks a razor's edge between a person who relies on his charms and an animal in a cage.

- Wyll is a deeply idealistic noble raised on tales of good knights and mighty heroes. His father was a soldier first, a noble second, and instilled in him a rigid moral code and high expectations for leadership. Those teachings led him to make a life-altering choice at seventeen years old that he was resoundly punished for due to manipulation and misunderstanding. Instead of becoming embittered, he cemented his dedication to his ideals and holds on to a sense of failure. He's eloquent and learned, with an abiding sense of chivalry and propriety. He's young, but not completely naive -- he has a firm personal code, but it's not immutable. Much of his conversation comes from stories he's heard or read that resonated with him. He is charismatic, friendly, and wants to believe in goodness. He's not above a cringe-worthy pun that he likely picked up from being around common folk.

- Lae'zel thinks non-githyanki beneath her, at least at first. Common is her second language and one she doesn't hold a lot of respect for -- she uses it to communicate and that's it. Her words are economic and blunt, but have a rich current of culture underneath. She is a soldier, but she is learned in the lore and ways of her people, and very proud of it. She does not deal in metaphor or hedging her opinions. She trusts her leadership and her queen implicitly. Her word is the truth (to her).

- Shadowheart is deeply mistrustful of people outside her cloister/belief system, which comes off as distance or aloofness. Her specific memories have been altered or removed, but all her core experiences and dedication remain. She's been raised in an environment that is very cult-like and spreads the idea that anyone unlike them is probably an enemy. Nothing is more important than proving herself to her parent-figure. Even so, she wants to connect. She wants to trust. Her communication is guarded and emotionally detached, until it isn't.

- Gale is extremely intelligent, but he's been removed from interacting with everyday people for a long time. His terminology tends to default to his book learning, which can come off as superiority. He has Gifted Kid Syndrome -- literally Chosen for his ability and knowledge, and experiencing a deep sense of, "Who am I if I'm not Chosen? What is my greater calling now?" He's used to his voice mattering, his expertise respected, but also internalized a sense of guilt and shame. He can err toward arrogance, but it comes from a place of wanting to make things better.

- Karlach was an Outer City street kid with what sounded like a reasonably happy home life and she ended up in the employ of a charming young entrepreneur who she completely trusted as hired muscle. That man betrayed her in an incredibly horrific way that she didn't see coming -- not because she's a fool, but because she wants to love people and he tricked her into loving him. She's spent a decade terribly lonely and literally untouchable by anyone but fire-immune fiends. She's cheery and optimistic, but it's largely a front to hide her hurt and sadness. Being a fighter is who she is, not only what she was forced to do. She believes her value is in her physical strength because she has no formal education or skills (she thinks). Her speech is casual, full of slang, blunt, crass, almost childlike (but she is NOT a child -- important distinction). There's a darkness in her she doesn't want to face, so she hides behind humor and affection. Still, when she loves, it is completely in earnest.

[zoeykallus]

Can you please please please do a

What made them fall in love with you- Wolffe , Rex, Jesse and fives? ✋🏻🙂‍↕️🤚🏻

Aloha! Oh sure, I love this topic 😊

Wolffe/Rex/Jesse x Reader HCs - How They Fall In Love With You

Warnings: None (Mostly Fluff)

Masterlist

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

Wolffe

How it starts:

It may sound strange, but the first thing he'll notice is that you're neither afraid of him nor condescending towards him. You'd be surprised how many people react negatively to him, partly because he's a clone, but also because his scars give him a slightly wilder appearance. Normal, decent behavior is already a ray of hope for the clone soldier.

You don't turn away, you treat him with respect and even if you find it a little difficult because the grumpy, handsome Wolffe makes you nervous, you maintain eye contact. This immediately makes you more likeable and arouses Wolffe's first cautious curiosity.

What happens next:

You think for yourself, you have your own opinion, even about the clones. You know what you want, and you have that smile that makes his knees go weak. Wolffe is anything but easily impressed, but you fascinate him. He may not be able to say exactly what it is from the start, it's lots of little things.

Wolffe never intended to fall in love, so he doesn't immediately understand the pull he feels when you're around, the pull you exert on him. He is always looking to be close to you, to make contact with you, and at first he doesn't really know why.

He likes your voice, he likes to listen to you, Wolffe admires the way you express your opinion, stubborn but not disrespectful. He's not normally a great talker, but he likes talking to you. Although you occasionally challenge him a little in your conversations, or perhaps precisely because of this, he enjoys your conversations to the full. You make him feel like he belongs, that his opinion is important, no matter what the topic, even if your opinions aren't always exactly the same. You take the time to discuss things with him that are close to his heart, really listen and try to understand. You probably have no idea how much he appreciates this.

In this context, it happens quite unexpectedly, a little smile from you, a look in your eyes, a tone in your voice and Wolffe is lost. He tries to spend every free minute with you. He already has your com number, so he calls you from time to time when he can, sometimes just to hear your voice and makes up some excuse to justify the call.

However, it will take him weeks, maybe even months, to admit to himself and to you that he has a crush. Be patient and try not to push him, sooner or later he will tell you of his own accord.

Rex

How it starts:

The rebellion has brought you together. You may not be a fighter, but you support the rebellion in whatever way you can. Maybe as a caterer, cargo pilot, cook, medic or administrator. No matter how you help, you do your best, and of course Rex notices. He notices the way you treat him and his brothers, you treat them like real heroes, soldiers, their welfare is close to your heart. You admire these men and their fight against the empire, and this is also visible to the outside world.

What happens next:

You keep coming into contact and your manner, your commitment, warms his heart. The fact that someone, who is not a clone, stands by their side in this way gives him hope again and again. After a while, it comes automatically when he sees you, he feels uplifted, hopeful, full of new energy.

It's actually pretty obvious, and yet you sneak into his heart rather than opening the door.

Rex seeks contact with you more and more often, discusses important things concerning the rebellion with you, even if you may not be able to contribute much, he wants to hear your opinion, feel the confidence in your smile, get the feeling that only you can give him, that everything will be all right.

He doesn't know what it is yet, why you have such an intense effect on him. Rex only knows that you are good for him, your smile, your words, your commitment, in whatever way. For him, in a way, it almost feels like you are the most important part of the whole rebellion. Which is nonsense from a rational point of view, of course, but he likes that feeling, he likes you.

The great leader, Rex, comes to rest with you, to find new hope and energy. When Rex returns from a mission, your face is the sign for him, the feeling that he is back home. He has been hopelessly in love for a long time without really knowing it.

Jesse

How it starts:

It's a coincidence that you happen to overhear the three clones talking about how poor the food they're getting is, how they're craving certain things. On impulse, you get some treats and bring them to the three clones (Jesse/Fives/Hardcase) who have been assigned to duty in one of the hangars for a while because of a “little stupidity”. In connection with their punishment, the food has also been restricted to protein bars.

The confused and, shortly afterwards, beaming, delighted faces of the clones make you grin.

Jesse looks up, with a critical eye, and asks, “What's the catch? Why is a Civi bringing us food?”

You laugh amusedly, assuring him that there isn't one, and you just wanted to do something good.

He looks at you indecisively for a moment, but finally goes for the roast chicken he had been craving.

What happens next:

You often pass the hangar on your way to or from work/university/etc., you pass it almost every day. The men greet you cheerfully every time. Again and again you bring food instead of just walking past, and soon you are invited to sit down and eat something too.

Out of curiosity, you ask, “How did the punishment actually come about?”

Jesse answers you, pointing at Fives and saying, “We helped tar and feather a Civi who was being a jerk to his girlfriend”

Fives chuckles, “It was worth it”

Jesse and Hardcase join in the giggles that elicit a grin from you.

“Sounds like you guys did the right thing”

Jesse smirks at you and says, “I agree”

You join the boys more and more regularly, sometimes even helping out a bit, joking and chatting. You like the clones, and they like you. Jesse in particular is very fond of you. The others are already starting to tease him about it, but they're decent enough not to do it in front of you.

He waits every day for you to come over again, he doesn't care about food anymore. He wants to see your face, hear your voice, make jokes with you. You're so nice, so different from other Civis. On the last day of his transfer, he asks for your com number to keep in touch with you.

You don't really expect him to call you, but he does, the very next weekend, and invites you to come to 79's.

You see a lot of clones here, a lot of the same or very similar faces. But apart from Jesse's tattoo, the grin he gives you is also unique. He is so incredibly happy that you actually came.

You sit together in a quieter corner and after a drink or two, Jesse says almost casually, with a wry smile.

“Hey you, I might have a crush on you”

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

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[molotovgirl45]

sdv Sebastian x Reader headcanons

This is my first Tumblr post, and I thought I could start off with some simple head canons for Sebastian in year 1. Honestly part of me could see an entirely different approach, and I'll honestly do multiple of these lol. Anyways, i hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did!♡

I feel like when he meets you for the first time, he's slightly dazed when looking at you. but he doesn't really know why. It takes him a while to even realize he's attracted to you, since he isn't the most experienced with handling his emotions.

Randomly in spring, he turns on the flower dance music and pretends as if hes dancing witn you. He does it infront of a mirror, continuing to become increasingly frustrated when he can't get it right

Days before the flower dance Abigail and Sam will be hanging out at Sam's place when they realize he has a crush on the farmer, so they end up teasing him and trying to convince him to ask the farmer to be his dance partner. As much as he protests, they still end up helping him get ready and everything. Including, Abigail showing him how to actually dance and how to compliment you without sounding condescending or perverted.

As much as he doesn't want to admit it, he took hours getting ready before the dance, trying to look good for you. Robin notices him actually wanting to dress up this year and teases him thoroughly.

At the dance, when you arrive, Abigail and Sam hype him up to go talk to you as you talk with Pierre. As he walks up to you, he dusts the invisible dust of his shoulders and sees if his hair looks okay. And as he waits for your attention, he just looks absolutely breath taken. Like your beauty just blew the wind out of him.

When he asks you, he occasionally looks back at Abigail and Sam for reassurance. >///<

( this is a more game-based head canon ) You visit him so often, that in the mornings he starts to wait for you, hoping you will drop in that day. And also ends up not eating lunch in case you bring him a plate of sashimi like you usually do. When you dont it doesn't bother him that much, he just ends up missing you.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Safe Keeping | 7

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6

What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes." I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, POV shifts!, forced marriage, smut (piv, emotional sex, praise kink, breeding kink), enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, miscommunication, toxic masculinity, typos, etc.

A/N: YAY WE ACTUALLY FINISHED A SERIES HAHHAH lol. thank you so much to everyone who read safe keeping on here <3 im so luv all of you !! i will be continuing this so HIHHH look forward to it ig 😋 [originally posted on ao3] | [continuation fic on ao3] | [continuation on tumblr]

Tagging: @otteropera @poisonsage808 @glitterandgoldfinds @the-queen-of-sorrows @minttea07 @fluffpudel @j3nn-1 @jelsasnowflakes1 @thestrals-and-firewiskey

We are greeted by a group of men when we arrive at the Alistair dwelling.

Sandor helps me dismount my horse. I thank him, then the stable boy, who takes our rides. Sandor ushers me in and we hand our coats to the servants by the door.

My husband scrutinizes the place, a grave expression on his features as he takes in the halls that were decorated with streamers. As we get deeper into the home, I grab Sandor's arm and carefully word, "remember why we're here."

He turns to me and raises a brow, "and why are we here, darling wife?"

I cannot help the way I react to his words, his term of endearment. I know it is condescending, but my stomach tumbles at the sound of it either way. I look forward, unable to keep his gaze, "we're here to pay out respects to a man that extended generosity to us."

Sandor notices the way my face twitches. He sighs and turns away, "I will not kill the pretty boy. Do not be so upset."

"I'm not upset," I turn to him.

He scoffs under his breath, "what's with the face then?"

"What face?"

"A face fairest in the land, many would say."

Sandor and I stop in our tracks.

My brows raise and I break into a chuckle of disbelief and surprise. The man who had spoken smirks as I greet him, "Lord Baelish."

Sandor feels his blood boil when the Littlefinger bows and reaches out a hand. He tightens his grip on me.

I turn to Sandor, noticing how darkly he was eyeing Petyr, and decide to let out a laugh to ease the tension, "there be no need for such formalities, Petyr."

Petyr straightens up, lowering his hand, maintaining his smirk.

Sandor's lips twitch as he grumbles slowly himself, "Petyr."

"I am glad we're past that, my dear," Petyr says before Sandor tugs me by the arm behind him as he steps forward.

The shorter man looks up and the taller one snorts. I manage to pull my arm away, coming in between them. I nervously laugh and elbow Sandor back, not that it does anything, "if you'll excuse us, we must speak to the man on the hour."

Petyr looks back at me, unfazed and still smirking, "of course. But I do I hope, for your sake, you spare me a moment after. I have something rather important to talk to you about."

"About what?!" Sandor bark. I feel the tension of his form when he presses nearer, flush against my back, to impose upon the lord.

Lord Baelish doesn't spare the Hound a glance, "why, about the monsters plaguing your ancestral home." 

My lips part.

The blue eyed man raises a brow, "you've long wished to be safe from this peril, yes?" he bows, "I believe I have a solution for you."

Before I could even think, Petyr straightens up and smirks as he walks away.

I hear the Hound whisper behind me, "I'll fucking kill him instead."

Before I could respond, a voice calls out to me. I turn and see it is Lord Alistair, making his way over.

He jogs up to me with an excited expression and reaches out a hand. I smile back at him and take it out of instinct. When he is close enough, Cedric kisses my knuckles.

The Hound did not realize this had happened up until he tore his gaze from damned Littlefinger. When he notices Alistair, he nearly breaks his teeth from clenching his jaw so tight.

"I am happy to see you, my lady," Cedric nods with a lopsided smile.

Before the Hound can react, the pretty boy is speaking again.

"And you, my lord," he nods to Sandor.

"I don't share the sentiment," the Hound growls through a strangled breath.

Cedric laughs. He places a hand on his chest as he does, then motions, "forgive me. You must be famished from your travels," he looks to his right then back to us, "please. My servants have prepared my favorite dishes. Help yourself and make merry."

"I'll be merry if I fuc--

"THANK YOU, MY LORD!" I cut off with a massive grin. I curtsy and chuckle, mustering all the sincerity I had, praying it overshadowed my jitters, "may you always be so generous and joyous on your nameday."

Cedric chuckles and waves me off, "please. Spare me the formalities. I pray you go and eat with your husband before he kills someone."

Lord Alistair is the only one that laughs at the joke. A few delayed seconds later, I manage to laugh with him, forcing down my agitation.

Sandor doesn't budge the first time I tug on his arm. He follows after the fourth. He eyes Cedric as we walk away, but the said man is already preoccupied with another guest to notice.

"I don't think this is a good idea," I whimper under my breath as I quite literally run after the buzzing Hound.

Sandor makes his way down the hall in a break neck speed, at least for me. I have to catch my breath when we enter the weapons room. I heave and look around the foreign place, eyeing the axes, the arrows, the swords, and the armor displayed all over.

"Your pretty boy has good taste," Sandor slurs as he grabs a sword mounted on the wall, knocking over a few others as he did.

I cringe at the clank of steel against ground and step back when Sandor begins to wave his blade around. I mumble, "he's not my pretty boy."

Sandor continues to swing the sword. I pull my head back in agitation.

He then picks up the fallen swords but cannot manage to put them back in their place without moving shakily, and dropping a few.

I panic and press my back against the wall, "my love, this is a horrible idea!"

Sandor stops and turns to me, "how is it horrible? Lord Alistair wanted a sword fight with me, and that's what he's gonna get. He chose this nameday gift, not I."

I watch as he finally manages to put away the swords.

"You were there, my jittery bride."

I straighten up and slowly walk towards him with my palms cautiously raised. Sandor is perfectly still when I come close. I release a sigh of relief when I manage to grab his arms, "please listen. I was also there when you downed three ewers of wine, puppy."

He leans down.

I clench my jaw.

I can feel his breath, smell the alcohol in it, as he mutters, "I'm not a lightweight."

I gasp when he comes low enough to kiss my neck.

My skin pricks when he whispers hotly, "and I'm not a puppy."

My heart is racing when he straightens up. He does so in a rather staggering manner, telling of the effects of his alcohol consumption.

"You're drunk."

"Am not," he rebuts.

I scowl at him, "you're a drunk puppy, my dear."

He smiles, "I thought I was your love?"

My stomach churns.

Sandor purses his lips when I do not respond.

I feel my face prick with heat, "would you listen to me if you knew that I loved you?"

He chuckles, turns his back on me, and heads for the door, "well, do ya?"

I feel like vomiting. I whisper under my breath, "I do."

He reaches for the knob and opens the door, "nice try, beautiful," he reaches a hand out, "come. Maybe your pretty boy will manage to ki-"

"WILL YOU STOP CALLING HIM THAT!" I snap and storm over to him. "Lord Alistair is NOT my pretty boy! He's not mine and will never be!" I feel my blood boil and my eyes begin to fog, "and stop calling me names!"

He pulls his chin back. His face hardens. He opens his mouth to speak but beat him to it before he can say a word.

"Stop mocking me! Stop calling me pretty squirrel! Stop calling me beautiful! It's driving me mad!"

"I'm not mocking you," he speaks lowly, "why would I mock-"

"Well, whatever it is, it needs to come to an end," I point at him, "now let's get this over with. I want to go home."

I storm off and head outside.

I make my way to the back of the Alistair dwelling, which had a large field where the sword fighting will be held.

I stand by the crowd of people and sigh through my nostrils. I watch as Lord Alistair does tricks with his sword, enticing the crowd to laugh and cheer for him.

I feel out of place in my spot because I didn't know anyone else, and because was not at all entertained by the spectacle. All I thought of was how badly I wished this to be over. Damn my drunken husband for agreeing to this.

"Trouble in paradise?"

I turn over and find the smile of Lord Baelish. I release another sigh, "please. Not anymore, Petyr."

Petyr chuckles and shrugs, "I've barely said a word, my dear."

His term of endearment triggers my vexation. I cannot help the way I roll my eyes at him.

He laughs harder, "what darling reaction."

I move away from him.

He steps closer, "did you know there are necromancers in Volantis?"

I glare at him just to look away again.

He gives me a smirk, "they are learned of tar monsters who enjoy eating village folk."

I turn back to him.

He nudges me with his elbow and turns front, "I've put in good word for you. All you have to do is take a ship to Essos. A witch there will get rid of your problems for you at a fair price."

"Hmm," I raise a brow, "oh, undoubtedly. It clearly is that simple."

Petyr turns to me, "it certainly is. Once the woodland monsters are gone, you'll be able to hunt and gather timber from the forest again," he nods his head, "and so will I."

Aha. I purse my lips and debate his words for a moment.

"And I trust you will allow me to fish in the Sterling River as well."

I look forward when the crowd cheers. I see before me, Lord Clegane and Lord Alistair, circling each other, the latter laughing in excitement, the former blank faced and stern. I turn back to Petyr, "very well."

He nods once more.

I look straight again.

"Perhaps a trip to Volantis is exactly what the loving couple need."

I roll my eyes at him.

Sandor and Cedric begin to tussle. The sound of steel biting steel fills the air. Cedric is an eager opponent, pressing forward every chance he gets. Sandor is relaxed and playing the defensive.

This continues for a while, metal clashing, boots skidding, voices grunting, and it was a rather showy match, at least on Cedric's end. Sandor is barely trying, I could tell. He must be conserving his energy. I've seen the way he's trained with the boys in Brown Wood. He's definitely trying to tire Cedric out.

"This is going to be a long match," Petyr whispers to me.

I turn to him and sigh, "a very long one."

Sandor catches this and feels his lips twitch. He turns back to Cedric.

I gasp when Cedric manages to disarm Sandor. The crowds gasp as well, and Cedric too seems surprised.

Sandor shakes his head, " 'm too fucking drunk for this."

Cedric straightens from his defensive stance.

Sandor nods, "well met."

Lord Alistair nods back, smiles, and turns about to bask in his victory.

As he bows to his guests, the Hound makes a beeline towards me. I watch as he comes close, my heart slowly speeds.

He grabs my arm, "we're leaving."

"Oh!" Cedric calls and gestures our way "a round of applause for the Hound."

The guests turn and cheer for him.

Sandor pulls me to his side.

"Come now," Petyr smirks, "won't you even try to best Lord Alistair in another round?"

Sandor leans down towards Lord Baelish and growls, "fuck off."

With that, I am dragged away.

"Sandor."

The Hound's horse continues treading in front of me.

"Sandor."

The Hound still does not stop, turn, or respond.

"Sandor!" I say louder.

Still nothing. 

I make the horse I was riding gallop to his side. He had not spoken to me the whole way back, not when we got on our horses, not when we stopped at an inn for the night, not when we started our journey, and not now that we near the gates of Brown Wood.

"Have you chosen never to speak to me again?" I quip, tightening my grip on my reins. When he looks the opposite direction from me, I scoff and roll my eyes, "should it not be I that never speaks to you, Hound? You've been nothing but insufferable the entire time we were at the feast!"

Sandor still does not budge.

I look forward and catch sight of Brown Wood. I give my horrible husband one last glare before growling and galloping away.

Sandor watches this. He does no effort to follow after.

When I get to the gates, I am immediately greeted by many servants. Polly, in particular, excitedly tells me he's taught the puppies tricks, and quickly leads my horse away after I dismount, keen to tell me more about it.

Lucy, though happy to see me, raised a brow at my missing chaperone, "did you lose your Hound, milady?"

I roll my eyes, "do not speak to me of that beast."

Lucy is bewildered.

I sigh and slump forward, regretting the harshness of my words. I shake my head, "have you prepared a bath for me?"

She knits her brows and nods slowly, "....did something happen at the feast?"

"Of course something happened," I muttered, "the gods are truly testing me." I brush Lucy's arm, "I will tell you more of it later. For now, I need a warm bath."

Lucy nods again and watches me walk off.

Before Polly could follow after, Lucy hooks her fingers into his collar, holding him back. The boy makes a choking sound, stops and turns, staring at Lucy.

"Our lady will not be bothered," she says.

"But the puppies!"

"Later," she pulls her hand away, "go finish your chores if you still have some, boy."

Polly makes a face and grumbles, though he does listen.

Just then, Lucy turns and sees the Hound walking towards the gates, leading his stead by the reins. She waits for him to enter, and the moment he does, she runs her mouth.

"Are ye not tired of playing this game?"

The Hound squints but spares Lucy no glance. He heads for the stables and undoes the ties on his horse.

Lucy flares as she follows after him, "can't you just do us all a favor and stop?"

"I'm not in the mood for nagging, wench."

"Then admit it!"

"Fuckin' what?!" he glares at her.

"That you're mad about your wife!" Lucy snaps.

Sandor stills.

"That you would die for her! That you're upset she wanted to go to another lord's nameday celebration!"

He removes his horse's saddle, "that was a formality."

"YOU'RE A FUCKIN' FOOL!"

Sandor whips his head to her.

"And a coward," Lucy raises a finger.

The Hound chucks the undone saddle to the side and steps forward. He looks down at Lucy, but she is unbothered and unafraid. He is shocked when she shoves him. He topples back.

"She's only ever wanted your love, you thickheaded oaf! Don't you see how hard she tries to please ya?!"

"Please me?" Sandor scoffs, taking another step forward.

"YES!" Lucy shouts, "she wants to be your perfect bride but you know nothing but cruelty. You repay 'er with bitterness."

The Hound feels his mouth sour.

"And puppies."

Sandor watches her wipe her face.

"Because you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be, milord," Lucy says with frustration.

Sandor feels like the wind was knocked out of his lungs.

"I've caught you when you think no one's looking," she speaks softly, "you love her."

Sandor feels his body burn.

"She loves you."

"She d-"

"Fix it before it gets worse. I beg," she sighs.

The Hound is stunned as the maid walks off.

When Polly spots him, the boy unknowingly grates his nerves as he leads the puppies over and shows all the tricks he's taught them. It wasn't much, in all honesty, just a 'stop' and a 'come here', but the three pups did them well.

Sandor couldn't be impressed, he was far too out of it to be anything but queasy.

He tells Polly he's tired and heads to the bedroom. Polly tells him he wants to show Lady Clegane the tricks before they sleep. He doesn't answer the boy. 

Sandor is both disappointed and relieved to find the room empty. His head is heavy as he changes. He feels like he'd sink to the bottom as he goes to bed.

The Hound had been pacing around when I got to the bedroom. He froze when I entered and awkwardly walked back as I headed for the bed.

I didn't speak a word as I went under the covers and laid down. I eyed him as he sat on the edge on the other side, back turned to me. I burn holes into his back with my glare.

It takes a few seconds of him rubbing his lap and him sighing loudly before he breaks his silence.

"I..." he trails off.

I shift in my spot to look at him.

He straightens, "I didn't like the fact that pret-" he cuts himself off and sighs, "that Lord Alistair and Lord Baelish were all over you."

I can't help but scoff, "and you've decided not to speak to me because of some two men's doing?"

"I DIDN'T want to fight," he blurts loudly then softly. 

I watch as he slouches and moves on his side to bring himself under the sheets. He sighs as he covers himself and speaks without looking at me, "I don't like fighting you."

I purse my lips at the thought. His words conflict me. I find it aggravating to hear when it felt like he liked the opposite. A side of me is also unwilling to believe it because it was too hard to believe.

The part of me that was still angry at him for being so petty wants to fight back with equal pettiness. But an even larger part of me felt too exhausted and defeated to argue.

"And yet you always do," I speak plainly as I turn my back on him and fluff my pillow. I take in a deep breath while bringing the sheets over my shoulder. I lay down, facing away from him.

I knew he wouldn't have anything to say to that truth, and yet I take a moment to listen in on him. He doesn't speak nor move at all.

I close my eyes, "go to sleep, husband. It's been a long day."

"Aren't you upset with me? I don't want you to sleep upset with me."

My eyes open. My stomach churns. Did he actually care? My lips part but I can't find myself to speak.

"I didn't speak to you because I know what I'd've done if I did."

I take in a sharp breath and give out a broken whisper, "you've done worse."

Sandor lets out an airy chuckle. It doesn't sound amused at all though.

He doesn't respond anymore. Instead, he shifts in his spot and lays down, as far on his end as he could be. He is on side, staring at the dark corner of the room. He musters all his courage, "forgive me, my lady."

My lips part.

Did he just say that?

"What?" 

I am shocked when I hear him repeat, "forgive me."

I roll on my back and look at him. I feel like I'm going to vomit. I think my body was shaking.

I inhale deeply through my nose, "what would you have done?"

He takes a moment to respond, "what?"

My courage flees me as I find the need to repeat myself. I turn my back on him again and clutch my chest. I can hear my heart pounding, "what-... you said you didn't speak to me because you knew what you would have done..." 

I feel Sandor shift behind me.

I gulp and curl up tighter into myself.

I wait for him to act but he does nothing.

I release a deep breath before speaking, "would you... have hurt me?"

My skin pricks when I hear him sigh, "aye."

I feel sick to my stomach. How could he admit that so easily? 

I think of all the worse things he could have done: smack me, shove me, slay me. I feel body begin to grow hot.

Sandor stares at the ceiling then turns to his side. His chest tightens yet he manages to mutter, "I only want to be gentle with you."

I scoff but it sounds strangled because of how tight my throat was. My eyes begin to well up. My broken voice croaks, "how could you say that?!"

The Hound says nothing.

"What?" I scoff, "you hit me then you tend my wounds?"

He doesn't say a word.

I begin to feel my insides burn.

The longest moment passes.

"How did you want to hurt me?" I snap.

He clenches his jaw then chuckles at himself, "I wanted to make you scream my name as I fucked you against a wall."

My heart leaps into my mouth.

The Hound continues, "I wanted all those fuckers to hear, to know what you were mine, that I was the only one who could do that to you, that I was the only one you'd allow to do that."

My blood runs still.

"The things I'd do to you," he mutters, "you'd be disgusted to know them."

My lips quiver as confusion ripples through me. This was the kind of hurt he wanted to inflict?

"But I want to be gentle," he adds, "I really do."

"Is that why you lied about the pups?" I find myself choking out.

Sandor is taken aback. He also hates how apparent the sound of sadness was.

"I know you were the one that found them and brought them home, not Lucy," I whisper.

"Lucy," he sighs, "she loves you so much, that Lucy. And you love her... You'd take a gift from someone you love."

I shake my head, "that's why you lied? You didn't think I would keep them if they were from you?"

"I didn't want to shroud the pups with my being."

"... I can love more people than just Lucy."

I feel him shift behind me.

My heart thunders in my chest.

"One day... maybe I'll be gentle enough for you to love me."

I feel tears rush down my eyes. I move to turn to him, but then his arm comes around me and holds me back.

"Please," his voice breaks, "I can't stand to see you cry or look at me with pity."

My hand comes atop his arm, "Sandor-"

"Can I kiss you?"

My breath catches in my throat.

His heavy breathing makes my entire body burn.

I slowly nod and manage to squeak out a yes.

Sandor immediately sinks his face into my neck and begins to kiss my skin. His lips were hungry and his beard left scratches all over. He snakes his arm tighter around me and pulls me into his chest. My entire body reacts to him, it burns and pricks and pulses. He kisses my cheek; he kisses my tears away.

My belly tumbles when he rubs it. He props himself up on his other arm, "I'll die a happy man to see you love my babe," he trails kisses up my jaw to my ear, "it's more than I'll ever deserve."

I suck in a deep breath and lean into his touch. I press my body flush against his and this elicits a groan from him. He fists my nightgown into his hand and nips my lobe. He draws in deep breaths and sighs against my ear, "I can be gentle. I can be so gentle."

I take his fist and he immediately releases my clothes. His breathing grows more strangled as he shifts behind me. 

I push his hand down and he shudders when it comes in contact with my thighs. I release his hand and bring my leg atop of his. I pull my skirt up and mumble, "gentle."

"Fucking gods," he kisses my shoulder and pulls my gown up. He rubs my thigh a few times then sinks his hand underneath my smallclothes.

He shushes me as I grow rigid against him and kisses my neck some more.

I whimper when he pulls my undergarments down and moves his fingers into my soft spot. He very much so gently touches me until I begin to melt against him. I arch my back and lean into him.

"Good girl," he mutters, "such a good girl. My beautiful girl."

"More please," I heave.

Sandor presses his body against mine, "don't have to tell me twice."

I whine his name when he sinks a finger into me. My toes curl and my hand grabs onto his bicep.

I make a sound when he pushes deeper, and an even throatier one when he adds another finger.

Sandor brushes my hair away with his other hand then sinks his face into the crook of my neck. He peppers kisses on my skin and my body burns all the more because of it. I turn my face to him and move my mouth close to his.

Flames rage inside my belly when our lips meet.

He goes still for a second when I kiss him. It takes a few moments before his lips move against mine. Though his beard was tickling my skin, the exchange was lovely. It was warm. It was right.

I bring the hand I had on his arm up to his cheek. My fingers find their way to his scalp where I begin to tug his hair gently.

We pull away when I yelp at the feel of his hand going back to work. Sandor does not relent his kisses on my cheeks, nose, and eye lids.

"Does it feel good?" he asks in between pecks.

I whimper as I nod.

Sandor sighs and grazes his teeth against my neck, "so good."

I mewl when he begins to pump his fingers faster into me.

"So sweet and soft and beautiful-- so, so beautiful against me."

"Sandor-"

"I want to feel you," he growls under his breath, "want to be inside you," he nips my lobe again, "want to fill you up, give you the babe you want."

I nod and chase after his lips. I kiss him desperately, "please."

It's not long until his fingers are replaced by his cock. We both tense against each other then slowly relax and reconnect our mouths.

I am surprised when I feel his tongue brush against my lips. I squeak when he begins to buck his hips into me at a slow but purposeful pace.

He presses his fingers into my inner thigh, pulling that leg closer towards him. I bring my hand down to his forearm and grip him for dear life. He pushes his chest into my back and breaks our kiss to allow us both a breath.

Sandor maneuvers himself into a better position. He nearly has me sprawled on top of him. He locks his grip on my hips and snaps into me with all that he's got.

He calls my name. He calls me beautiful. He calls me his wife. He tells me he loves me.

It's all too much that my eyes begin to water and my belly begins to tighten.

Though his movements were wild and sharp, and though the sound we were both making were loud and lewd, there was something sacred about it, something sincere.

I nearly sob when I come undone. I cry out his name as I feel intense pleasure crash all over my body. My mind is too misty to take into account that Sandor had been repeating the same three words as he too fell into bliss.

He doesn't immediately stop moving. He only does so when I'm laid back on my side again.

I nearly jump out of my skin when I feel him shift away from me.

"Don't pull away!" I snap. I grab his arm and wrap it around me, trapping it between my own. I lean back into him, "don't leave me! You keep leaving me."

Sandor, who was just catching his breath, feels like he was winded all over again. He thinks about the discomfort that this position will bring, but he figures sex just leaves people emotional and clingy sometimes.

He kisses my cheek, "we'll stay like this, if that's what you want."

I nod enthusiastically and turn to kiss him.

When I do however, he pulls his face back. It makes me go rigid.

It takes a second for Sandor to realize what he did. He is now overly conscious of the scar on his face and the damned reflex he has for it. He opens his mouth but he doesn't say anything.

I begin to feel my face burn and yet I'm too stunned to move.

The next moment, we speak at the same time then immediately go silent.

I gulp and turn away from him, bursting out as I did, "I beg your pardon. I didn't mean to overstep."

"You did nothing wrong." he shakes his head.

"You asked if you could kiss me," I mumble, "I didn't do the same."

"You can do whatever you want with me-"

"Sandor-"

"-I belong to you. I am your hound. That's all I am."

My eyes glass at his words. I feel him kiss my nape. My skin pricks when he rubs his hand down my belly.

He sighs heavily, "... sorry for being so broken."

I screw my eyes shut.

"... you can kiss me... if you really want to."

I nearly break my neck turning it back so quick. I press my face against his and just remain like this for a moment. I brush my nose against his textured skin and recall the time I did the same during our wedding night. He pulled away then, he pulled away now.

"I'm sorry you can't trust me," I whisper.

Sandor doesn't have the time to react to that.

I leave about a hundred kisses on his scar before my neck begins to tire. I knit my brows and whisper again, "don't let me go."

I face front and feel sleepiness catch up with me.

"Good night, Sandor."

I vaguely hear him whisper I love you behind me.

Sandor woke up with sunshine shining down his face. He was more than well-rested. He honestly doesn't remember the last time he slept this good.

He stretches in bed and groans. It takes him three seconds to realize he was alone.

It's almost enough to make him shoot upright in panic. The only reason he doesn't is because he quickly thinks it was fucking stupid of him to feel anything, any sort of panic or worry-- worse, hurt or sadness for waking up alone.

He did that many times over, left her alone-- too many times to count, surely more times than the good night's of sleep he's had.

So, he lays there with a stone-heavy pit of emptiness in the middle of his rib cage. There was nothing else to do with it crushing his chest. No amount of reasoning, of rational explanations that his wife was the lady of Brown Wood, who was always busy, who was always attending many other people, nothing could lift the stone weighing down on his chest.

He feels like he's slowly choking.

The Hound only gets up when he hears the small barks of the pups coming from outside. Somehow the idea of his wife waking up to attend to the dogs made this ordeal bearable.

He heads to the bathroom first and freshens up.

After, he heads to the living area and tenses when a pair of servant girls greet him good morrow. His lips twitch as he grunts and nods at them. The girls perk up and stare at him for a second as they pass. He vaguely hears them mumbling 'did he just greet us back?' as they each head their way.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath. He should have said good morrow in return. Fuck. 

It probably doesn't matter. He's been ignoring everyone since they've moved here. Why start now?

Well... he was ignoring everyone except Lucy, who vexingly demanded his attention; Daisy, who used to do the same... and his lady.

Sandor opens the front door and steps outside.

His-

"Lady Clegane," Petyr fucking Baelish nods and reaches a hand to his wife.

Sandor is stunned. This wretched, slimy looking Littlefinger-man was up on his stupidly embellished steed, which, mind you, was too big for the fucker, kissing his wife's knuckles a goodbye.

What the fuck was he doing here so fucking early?

Littlefuckingfinger smiles and straightens up as he releases her. His wife waves goodbye.

As she does so, Littlefinger catches sight of Sandor and his smile pulls into a self-satisfied little smirk. He nods his head once to him and fucking rides off. Even fucking Polly waves him goodbye and it makes him want to chase after him and gouge his eyes out.

"Husband."

The Hound averts his gaze.

Sandor's breath is knocked out of his lungs when he sees his wife gleaming at him.

Fuck, she's walking over.

Everything in him is so overwhelmed by her that he nearly steps back.

She holds something in her hands as she gives him a lopsided smile, "you had a good sleep."

He opens his mouth to speak but a lump in his throat stops him. He gulps.

She laughs. She does so with grace, her pretty teeth all bared to him, "I wished to stay with you until you woke, but I could not leave Brown Wood unattended till late in the afternoon."

For a moment, he is in disbelief and doubts it was actually midday. He looks up and sees, indeed, the sun was at its height.

He looks back to her to apologize for sleeping in, but again, his voice is lost to him. By only taking one step towards him, she renders him powerless. She intensifies it by taking his arm and giving him that look, that look of apprehension that was masked in sweetness. It was maddening.

"Will..." she draws a deep breath, "you let me kiss you?"

What the fuck?

Her brows raise. She pulls her hand away, "y-you don't have to."

"Wait-" gods, did he say that aloud? "-no. You can! You can!" he responds with desperation, "you don't even have to ask."

His wife smiles back at him, but it's not the same. 

Gods, he's ruined it again. 

He is surprised when she still leans over and gives his cheek a quick peck.

He barely has time blush as he's turning his head to watch her as she walks past him. She says something about breaking fast and he mutters something incoherent in response.

Sandor doesn't even realizes that he's been made to sit down on the dining table, until one of the pups take his seat before he can.

Where did they even come from?

"Fuck off then," he says, shooing the small thing. It barks loudly and then he realizes it's the loud one, Lilac. He growls, "off, Lilac!"

Lilac makes a smaller sound of protest but has no other choice but to get off the chair when Sandor tips it over.

He quickly sits down and makes a victorious face to the puppies, who continue to bark at him.

He watches as the pups quiet down as his wife comes back holding a bowl of stew and a spoon. His insides tingle when she leans close to him to set it down before him. She then drags a chair and sits next to him.

He takes the spoon.

She smiles at him and rests her head on her hand, her elbow on the table, "eat up."

Sandor releases a breath and does just that, "thank you."

He realizes just how hungry he was at this moment. He begins to pig out.

"Thank you for holding me throughout the night."

The Hound almost gargles his food in his throat trying to muster up a response.

She laughs and touches his arm again, "it's alright. Just eat."

Sandor doesn't have a moment to say that he would hold her until she gets sick of him.

His wife straightens up and pushes a something towards him, a letter, it seems, "Lord Baelish gave this to me."

He nearly chokes as he swallows.

He doesn't like the way his wife smiles when she continues to speak of him, "he's given me a map and letters to aid my passage to Volantis-"

"Volantis?" he sets his spoon down with more force than necessary, "the fuck is in Volantis?"

She straightens up, "remember we met at Lord Alistair's nameday?"

"Fucking Alistair."

She sighs through her nostrils, "Lord Baelish spoke to me then of someone who knows how to get rid of the monsters in the forest."

"Am I not enough for you?" he turns his body to her, "you need to hire some sellsword on the other side of the world to kill those fucks for you?"

He watches her withdraw before his very eyes. She brings her hands together and places them on her lap. She purses her lips into a soft smile before speaking, "there is no one in the world, this side or the other, that I would trust with handling the monsters in battle. But," she sighs, "Lord Baelish didn't speak to me of a sellsword. He spoke of a witch."

"And you fucking trust him?" he quips impatiently, "you'd trust a witch vouched by Littlefinger?"

She sighs again. She no longer finds it in her to pull a smile, "I do-"

"Well, don't."

"-because he'll get something out of it."

The Hound clenches his jaw and rubs his knuckles with his thumbs.

"In return for his help, I would be allowing Petyr to access to our fish, game, and wood."

The Hound sighs heavily, "Petyr.'

She shakes her head and chuckles. She chuckles until she breaks into a genuine laugh, "but matters not. If my lord does not approve then there is nothing more to do."

Sandor's stomach sinks when she stands up.

"I'll go ahead with my errands now," she nods and offers a lopsided smile.

Just before she walks away, Sandor grabs her hand and weakly mutters, "no, please. Please stay."

She laughs softly; she laughs sweetly. She places her palm on his knuckles then takes his hand in both of hers. She kisses the back of his hand and shakes her head, "I am not leaving, my lord, merely going off to do my errands."

The Hound stops her from letting go. He clutches her hands firmly in his larger one. He parts his lips to beg her to stay.

But then, he sees her change. He sees her slip on a mask of a dutiful wife. She is about to smile, about to tell him that if he insists, she will stay, for him. He knew in his bones that she would.

And so he lets her go and looks away in shame. He can't bear to look at her, so he clears his throat and compromises, "I'd like to eat with you later... if you have the time."

It takes a long moment for her to respond. Sandor, whose eyes were stuck to the floor, find the pups were now sleeping under the table.

"I would like that too, my love."

Sandor chuckles drily at the pet name and grabs his spoon. He rather bitterly says, mostly to himself, "you don't have to call me that."

He waits for her to walk away.

She doesn't.

He turns to her when he vaguely hears her mumble something. He waits for her to repeat herself, but she doesn't.

"What was that, pretty squirrel?"

She shakes her head and curtsies, "I said enjoy your food."

He watches her walk off. He wonders what she actually said, because it sure as hell wasn't that. He swirls his stew around idly.

[gouraminnow]

Since you did a piece on violence with the ASL trio could I request that you do a piece on what they like to do for affections(like maybe cuddling senerios, also yandere still lol).

Have a lovely day 💖

Aw, thanks! I hope you do, too!

I'm going to be honest, a lot of the affection would be very similar if they weren't yandere- specifically Ace, because I'm of the opinion that yan Ace makes for a good mutual relationship sort of story where you learn he's just... a little more fixated than a normal partner.

Ace is needy, I think. Really, really wants to give and be given affection. Might be a little hesitant at first, we all know how he sees himself, but once he realizes how nice it is he's attached to you as much as possible. Casual PDA even if it flusters you- hugging you from behind, pulling you into his lap or sitting himself in yours in the mess hall before chatting away with the others. You're teased if it flusters you, until you one day think to flip things on him- initiating a kiss or cozying up and wouldn't you know it- he goes bright red. Lots of teasing about being able to dish it out, but not take it. Gets huffy if his crewmates get affectionate with you too, but trusts them enough to not get too much into his head over it. If a stranger tries to get cozy, though... yeah, there's gonna be a confrontation. He enjoys time alone with you, just laying in bed hugged as close as possible. He pouts when you tell him how easy his fruit makes it to overheat. He wants you to do things, too- likes laying in your lap, likes when you comb his hair whether with a proper brush or just your fingers. Insist on feeding him, and he melts.

If things go wrong, though- whether you realize you're in too deep or never agree to go with him in the first place, he takes you. And he feels awful about it. Truly. Anytime you look to him distrustfully, fearfully, it tears him up. Can't bring himself close to you for a little while, but he cracks eventually- burying himself under the covers beside you and pulling you flush against him, whispering please don't push me away, I love you so much I'm sorry, I'm so sorry it's like this but I need you, please...

Sabo is far more reserved- at least in public. Very much leans into the archetypal aristocratic manners, leading you by hand, kissing your knuckles. A peck on the cheek and a hand on your hip is as scandalous as it gets, typically, but if you initiate something he's unlikely to deny it. In private he's much more handsy and loves being close- similar to Ace but a bit more of a giver. With Ace, that want comes more from a place of insecurity and wanting to prove himself. With Sabo, he just wants to. Not that he dislikes it if you play with his hair, or offer a massage, or want to help rub in the creams that help with his old scars- especially after he's come back from a long trip. It's just that he enjoys the idea of providing. I think he'd enjoy reading to you, but might hesitate to offer. Doesn't want to make you think he sees you as a child, but having you curled up at his side in bed while he reads sounds... very nice. Very careful not to smother you, very respectful... unless things go wrong.

If you're there unwillingly, he's far more suffocating. Heaps his affection onto you- holding you close, cooing over you whether you're crying or raging against him. His patience is almost unnerving, really. And he's... more than a bit condescending, too, which just pisses you off more. Poor thing, he knows a big change like this is oh-so-stressful. You must be so scared to be uprooted like that, aren't you? Lashing out at him like a cornered animal, it's alright. He understands. If you hadn't witnessed any violence from him- against pirates or marines, etc. your first brush with proof of his strength is when he effortlessly manhandles you no matter how hard you struggle- hugging you against him, laying down in bed, your struggling getting you absolutely nowhere. He relishes in the closeness, the kisses he can more easily indulge in once you've tired yourself out.

Luffy is all over you. Doesn't give a shit if it's in public, it doesn't even cross his mind. You're gonna find yourself walking around with him piggy-back riding on you. Legs folded around your middle, arms wound around you like springs. You get used to it really. Helps you build a little bit of core strength. If he's not wrapped around you, or hugging you, or draped over your shoulders, it can happen at any time. The second you lower your guard- suddenly there's a hand on your shoulder and you get yanked 30 to collide with your exuberant captain. You probably have whiplash. Hope his rubbery body cushions your fall. Possible injury aside, it can be hard to stay mad at someone who's so happy to see you. He pulls you onto the figurehead of the Sunny with him, naps in a pile with you and the others. I believe he's a biter. 100%. Be ready for that.

If you're there unwillingly, he's... a bit subdued. Things are less explosive, in a way. He'll stare at you with those big bug-eyes of his, silent while you cry, or yell, or even just stare. And then he just... lays on you. Or pulls you close and winds his long limbs around you, resulting in you having to deal with it. Laying down on the deck, coiled up in your captain's long limbs. If you're particularly upset- he'll even bring you food. Might even offer you a bite of his, which is a big deal with Luffy but getting a hunk of roast shoved in your face while restrained to the floor might not be something you're too enthusiastic about.

[yanderes-galore]

yandere concept for redson lmk? please

Sure...! Hope you like it :)

Yandere! Red Son Concept

Pairing: Platonic -> Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Denial, Dark themes, Stalking, Delusional behavior, Condescending behavior, Unhealthy relationships, Jealousy, Possessive behavior, Violence, Branding briefly mentioned, Isolation/Kidnapping, Dubious companionship/Forced relationship implied

I feel like Red Son would be the type of yandere to think he doesn't like his obsession... yet does at an unhealthy amount.

Due to how Red Son acts with people, I can see him in denial at the idea of liking anyone but his family.

This goes for both friends and family.

He just... doesn't think he can do such a thing.

He sees everyone as peasants compared to him and is too prideful to stoop to such a level.

He's dramatic and temperamental, he isn't used to being close with people.

So much that he gets uncomfortable with physical affection and fears being emotionally vulnerable.

As a result, I feel Red Son would be very rude to his obsession at first.

If this sounds familiar... This is because he seems like he'd fall a bit into the 'Tsundere' archetype at first.

Red Son acts like he hates your guts, like he only sees you as a peasant and wants nothing to do with you.

He may even sense this odd attachment to you but tries so hard to ignore it.

He can't seem to get you out of his head no matter how hard he tries.

In response, he may even be a bit more cruel in his words towards you.

He doesn't understand why he can't stop thinking about you.

Which makes him vent his frustrations about you... at you.

Red Son comes off as condescending at the start of the obsession.

He thinks he should see you as beneath him.

Yet, Red Son is quite the lonely demon due to his personality.

He's so deep in denial when it comes to you.

The moment he thinks of you fondly, or even finds himself wanting some sort of bond between you...?

He immediately thinks you did something to him and not that he wants to be friends.

Red Son would either take a long time to confront his obsession, or need someone to help him.

Said someone is most likely MK or Mei, which is a humiliating experience for him.

MK and Mei were most likely his first friends/allies, so if he ever did break and confess his situation... They'd probably tell him he wants to be your friend or something similar.

Red Son doesn't even consider romantic feelings until he becomes friends with you.

With some help, he finally manages to talk to you.

And you're so nice it's both sickening yet pleasing to him.

Even as "friends", Red Son struggles on connecting.

Yet he's less condescending now thankfully.

He does realize that his words have hurt you... and he doesn't want that....

He isn't the most affectionate friend, mostly closed off as he rants to you about something.

He's actually surprised you even listen to his rants.

It... feels a little nice, actually.

Keep in mind that Red Son is not used to anyone caring about his emotions.

So the fact you let him vent is a... nice yet foreign change.

Red Son would probably not see his behavior as bad once it starts manifesting.

He is still new to the whole friend thing... so jealousy is probably something he thinks just... happens.

He feels a bit embarrassed at first to admit he wants to hang out.

Yet when he puts aside his ego, he really does enjoy your presence.

Maybe you aren't a peasant....

Due to his temperamental nature, I think you can tell when he's jealous.

He's seething when your attention is taken away from him during one of your hangouts.

After all, this is time for just you two.

Why does someone else have to ruin it?

Due to his entitlement, Red Son would make a fuss over someone paying attention to you.

The moment you ignore him he has a fit.

No, no, no! This is your time together.

I can see you trying to prevent a fight due to Red Son threatening whoever decided they would speak to you.

Best you calm him before flames start sparking.

Red Son definitely thinks it's a privilege to be his friend.

He deserves your time and will get it no matter what.

Even when you don't hang out, I can see him still trying to watch what you're doing from afar.

After all... are you having more fun with other people?

In that case... He just needs to plan how to win you over better.

Until someone mentions something, Red Son may not realize his behavior stems from romantic feelings.

Isn't it normal for friends to be jealous of others?

Isn't it normal for him to enjoy your smile when he shows you his inventions?

It's gotta be normal for him to feel giddy at the thought of being alone with you... just you and him.

The longer he knows you, the more vulnerable he is with you.

Except he never notices until you point it out... immediately causing him to grow defensive at your words.

It probably isn't until someone comments on his behavior that he considers his feelings for you aren't friendly.

Someone probably mentions he could have a crush on you in a teasing tone, only for him to tell them off.

Only to realize... maybe they're right?

He'd be in denial of his romantic feelings for a long time.

But then... Hey... It makes sense to him.

Why else would he be so possessive around you?

You're even the only person he tolerates physical affection with.

He's easily flustered but he will admit your hugs are addicting... He keeps thinking about them even at home.

The issue is... He has no idea how he'd even confess such a thing?

Which, for a long time, leaves Red Son silently fighting with his feelings.

It doesn't help that his heart flutters when you smile or his skin heats when you touch him.

You're clearly trying to be friendly, but it just has an entirely different effect on him.

Even now he still can't hide the jealousy he feels when others get your attention.

Part of him wonders if he asks you out and you date... if that means you're his now?

If he makes you his partner, does that mean he has control over you?

All of this is so new to him... and he is a demon.

Demons are naturally possessive of what they enjoy.

Especially him.

I can only imagine Red Son's is something he tries to make grande.

He plans it all out as some big reveal before dragging you towards him.

He'd say that it should be an honor to have his heart considering his parentage.

He'd accidentally be condescending in this... which may make you say 'No'.

If you said 'No', he's baffled.

How COULD you decline his offer!?

He worked so hard to make this perfect!

He'd throw a fit, give up for a bit, then realize he still very much needs you and decides to try again.

If you said 'Yes', he's smug.

He knew you'd agree with some convincing!

Truthfully, he was never going to take 'No' for an answer.

Now that you're dating, he feels entitled to you.

He's clingier and more demanding, often wrapping an arm around your waist.

Now he's overconfident, braggin to anyone that'll listen that you're his.

He's obsessive about you to an alarming degree.

He refuses to let you out of his sight without throwing a fit.

Scold him if you want, he isn't listening, probably will just tell his parents about all of your fights.

He's a brat that isn't afraid to burn someone if it meant he got you to himself.

By this point there's no going back.

People can correct him, but he's not listening.

All he really cares about is having you to himself.

He's never felt this way towards anyone else but you.

He'd be a fool to give you up now.

In terms of if Red Son would hurt anyone over you? I don't doubt it.

Sometimes he can't control his flames, which may lead to someone getting hurt.

That and I can see him eventually trying to have you move in with him.

After all, he lives in a castle.

Don't you want to live in a castle?

He'd definitely convince you to stay at Demon Bull King's Fortress.

He'd als desperately look for his parents' approval of you.

If they say you're a good fit... Then you never have to leave!

His kidnapping is typically coercion, carefully drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

Then he can keep you isolated in the castle, just so he can keep you to himself.

After that I can see him clinging to you, surprisingly giddy at the thought of having you to himself.

Now he doesn't need to share!

Seriously, who's willingly going to come here?

Not many! Which means you're all his.

Now you can love in peace!

This may seem OOC, but maybe Red Son could brand his obsession as punishment?

It's definitely way later into the obsession, most likely when he isolates you in the castle.

By that point he would've had to snap in order to make such a decision.

He'd brand a specific symbol or pattern to remind people that you're his, then immediately attempt to comfort you afterwards.

Ironically, Red Son is like playing with fire.

You're completely oblivious to what you do to him.

You think being friends will be nice.

Unfortunately... He just gets worse.

If you stay with him despite the warning signs... you're merely growing the fire deep inside him...

Soon his obsession will grow and grow if nothing is done to prevent it...

Leaving you to get burned.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

💗OkayokayokayKAY.

Miguel with autistic!AFAB!reader.

Plsplspls

hii!! I made this into headcanons, hope that’s okay. little disclaimer, autism is a spectrum so what one may experience, the other may not, and bc of that, I tried to make these sorta generic. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

…

headcanons

miguel o’hara x autistic!fem!reader

word count: 468

✧.┊ MASTERLIST

— he's incredibly observant, so he picks up on lots of things most people would ignore

— the change in your demeanour, the way you stim and fidget, the way you'd essentially 'shut down'

— none of it goes unnoticed by miguel

— he's extremely patient and understanding 

— he is a spider-man/ scientist after all, so he def has lots of knowledge about it. he knows that it's a spectrum, and no two are the same, so he's spent a long time learning your behaviours and patterns to tailor his help exactly to you

— like he's trying to understand you better and see what you do like and don't like, what you need and what you don't need. boundaries and possible triggers etc etc

— he NEVER judges you, ever!! whether that be stimming, info dumping, special interests and hyper fixations, just anything !!

— I feel like he feels special to be able to see the true you (unmasked) maybe there's a pun or inside joke about both of you wearing masks

— he loves to hear what's been running riot in your brain- your new fave show, a new topic you've found interest in. he def likes to listen to you talk and would never make you feel bad for doing so

— he's careful with the way he words things, as you may struggle to understand the meaning and intention- and wouldn't want to upset you

— but he doesn't treat you like you're fragile, like you're made of glass. he gives your special treatment bc he loves you, not bc of your disability

— he makes sure that you never feel like a burden. you may apologise every so often for 'being too much work' but he reassures you constantly, saying he would have it no other way etc

— despite him wanting to be around you all the time, he knows that you need to have your alone time, especially if you're overstimulated 

— he lets you be and gives you space while still being near- he keeps a close distance essentially. close enough to let you breathe, but still there to comfort you if needed

— he has great paternal instincts but never treats you like a baby or child. he utilises his knowledge of fatherhood and uses it in ways to help you without being condescending or patronising

— sorta feel like he's a mind reader. like he just knows what you need when you need it, but without suffocating you. like he can tell if you're about to be non-verbal. and he just knows the moment before you get overwhelmed and helps you out of the situation (again without smothering you)

— he appreciates your empathy, and need for justice. dare I say, he loves your anger too (without it sounding selfish) like he admires your vast range of emotions, and how you're so human

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

[madthetruemad]

I was wondering...Aventurine's s/o who sometimes is misgendered as a man (fem! reader)

Any thoughts? 👀

I have many thoughts about this anon, some I would definitely like to share 🤭

Let's see, to me, if you're being misgendered and Aventurine just so happens to see it, then I can see it happening in the workplace, at the casino, or on a date.

But mostly at the workplace because lets face it, the IPC haven't exactly been painting themselves as the good guys lately 😐 and I can see a few of your coworkers being this way (be it new employees who do it by accident or stubborn old ones who are just plain rude).

"You should go ask him. He knows a lot about the subject and could help out with the project."

You weren't far away from the people who were having the conversation since you all were in the same office, and since it was such a small office housing only seven or so desks, it was easy to hear every single conversation and know who was talking about who.

"Thank you, I will!"

You didn't want to turn away from your computer despite the heavy thumps of footsteps coming up behind you. Instead, you tried to ignore it and continue typing away at your report. Your eyes heavy and focused on the computer as your fingers mercilessly hit the innocent keys.

"Sir? Excuse me, sir?"

You resisted the urge to groan aloud. This always happens. Mainly for two reasons. One, the stubborn fool who keeps misgendering you refuses to acknowledge that you're a woman. And two, the same stubborn fool insists to new employees of the IPC that you're a man and should be referred to as such.

And with a final tap on your shoulder, you sighed. Your feet planted on the ground as you swiveled your chair around.

"That's ma'am to you."

The new recruit was quick to fumble and bowed, "I'm sorry, ma'am! I was told that you could help me with- blah blah blah blah blah," you couldn't care about what he was saying. Not when your alarm went off, signaling your lunch break.

"Sounds interesting newbie, but if you'll excuse me, I'm going to lunch."

You didn't let the new employee get another word in as you got up and did a little stretch before walking out of the office while also being sure to ignore the smug looking bastard who waved at you while you left. Working in such a place exhausted you, and you hoped to hide your tiredness when you met up with the one person who made it all worth it. But...he noticed immediately the moment you sat down in his comfy couch in his own personal office.

He was already beside you when you sat down, and instead of grabbing his own food, his mesmerizing eyes bore into you.

"What's wrong?"

His voice always sounded tender when he talked with you, especially when he knows you've been having a bad day. He doesn't use his condescending voice or the voice he finely tunes to get people to like him. He is just ... being himself. Granted it's behind closed doors, but you were thankful that he didn't wear his bluff around you.

"It's...," to be honest, you've been dealing with this coworker for a long whilen now, and even though it's hurts being called something you're not, you thought you could handle it yourself. Though, lately, it's just been getting harder, "it's just this coworker of mine. He ... he keeps misgendering me. I know it sounds stupid and that I'm probably just being too sensitive but..."

"Name."

"Huh?"

"The name, give me the name of this coworker of yours," Aventurine said smoothly as he leaned into you, his arm slung around your shoulders as his fingers lightly twirled a strand of your hair between his fingertips. His warmth immediately engulfed you into a comforting embrace that you couldn't help but lean into. Despite being such a calculating person, he always had a way of disarming you and making you feel safe.

"Aven... it's nothing. I just, I just need to vent a little is all."

"Venting is great and all, but that doesn't solve the problem. Besides, who told you that you're being too sensitive anyway? Being hurt over something isn't something to be ashamed of. So, the name. Give it to me, and i can make it all better. Promise."

His tone held that usually lilt in his voice that scratched your ears just right. Honestly, he could be telling you the nightmares within a black hole, and you would be putty in his hands.

And so, with little resistance, you relinquished the name of the stubborn coworker who keeps giving you trouble. Granted, you did worry that you were getting special privileges since your boyfriend was in a higher station than you, but don't worry about that. You are Aventurine's significant other after all, there is nothing wrong with relying on him every once and awhile. ;)

[mncxbe]

Absbsjskajnshajks idk if you’re taking more requests rn, but if it’s not an issue could I possibly request a part two of that fic you posted about reader having a cat ability which means that they’re sometimes in heat??😭😭 maybe with Tetchō and Jouno (only if you feel like it)

Yes of course and my requests are always open although it may take a while to write them♡ Also added Dazai to this one I hope you like it.

1.50♡ p2

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖, 𝑱ō𝒏𝒐 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: itty-bitty smut♡/ fluff??

°☆○ 1.50♡ ~ part 1

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊

this smug bastard takes advantage of your state in the most subtle ways; lingering touches, flirtatious smiles and passionate kisses

at work he teases you more than usually, describing all the sinful things he'd do to you if you were in a more private setting👀 really just gets you all riled up for nothing

but when you two get home he acts like a completely different person

"What, bella? do you need something from me?" he always asks with a smirk on his face "Maybe some assistance with your little... situation?"

doesn't lay a finger on you until you practically beg him (nicely); it's not like he'll ever admit it but hearing your desperate pleas really boosts his ego

he does his best to help you in other ways too. he'll do more chores around the house and write your reports at work if you really can't handle them. overall he's a good guy♡

Dazai was lounging around the office, wasting time and avoiding his chores; since you had been sent on a mission, your boyfriend didn't had much else to do. He had his headphones on and was listening to some funky song when you suddenly walked behind him.

Leaning over his frame, you swiftly hooked a finger beneath one of the speakers and lifted it.

"Boo" you whispered lowly, your hot breath sending a shiver down his spine.

"Ah bella here you are. How's my pretty girl doing?" He tried to get up from the couch but you pressed further on his back.

"Bella... Come on let me get up and give you a kiss. I missed you" he whined

"Oh trust me baby. I want way more than a kiss" you said in a teasing voice.

In a matter of seconds, Dazai was back on his feet and had you pinned down on the couch, a mocking smile on his face.

"You're that desperate for me, bella? You've only been gone for a couple of hours. You really can't spend that little time without my touch?"

Your gaze darted around the room, hoping that no one could witness the position you were in.

"I'm in heat, Dazai." you confessed quietly.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch it?"

"I said..." you began, rosy petal blooming on your cheeks "I said that I'm in heat, Osamu. Because of my ability"

"And what does that have to do with me, huh?" he tauned, lips hovering just above the shell of your ear. "Do you perhaps want me to have my way with you here? In the office?"

Your body quivered slightly at the sound of his low voice, making him giggle.

"Get up, bella. And go finish your job so we can leave early."

You nodded your head in agreement before straightening yourself. As you were making your way back to your desk, your boyfriend called out to you:

"Oh and bella?"

"Yes?" you asked sweetly

"Don't forget to ask Kunikida for a free day tomorrow. You'll be needing it after tonight" he replied with a wink, causing your blush to deepen.

𝑱ō𝒏𝒐

you don't have to tell him that you're in heat, he can smell your arousal

just like Dazai, this man gives you the most condescending smile and shamelessly teases you throughout the day

if you work someplace else he'll send you texts to check up on you and gently remind you that he'll provide any help you need once he gets home

but if you're part of the Hunting Dogs good luck. he's all over you all day, making snarky remarks about your "condition"

Jōno also likes to hear you beg; hearing your thumping heartbeat and sweet voice when you tell him how much you crave him really turns him on

will cook breakfast for you if you're too tired in the morning

Jōno woke up with warm sunshine on his face and your sleeping figure next to him. This hour and a half before work, when you'd both wake up and cuddled for a while then have breakfast together was among his most cherished moments.

Usually you'd wake up just minutes after him, turning to face him with a wide smile on your face as you sleepily uttered a "Good morning Sai" and showered him with kisses. Except you didn't do that today.

Jōno knew by the accelerated rhythm of your heart that you were awake, but you were not moving an inch.

"Darling? Is there something wrong?" he asked softly, placing his hand on your waist.

You quickly shook your head as you curled up in a fetal position "No, I'm good, I'm okay". Your voice was shaky and low, as if you were pain.

"Baby please, if you're hurt or not feeling well then please-"

And then it hit him; a strong, intoxicating scent coming from your body. A cocky smirk rose to his lips when he finally understood the cause of your distress.

"You're in heat, aren't you?"

You suddenly turned to face him with a pleading look on your face. "Yea..."

"Well then we must do something about that" he teased, his hand sliding to your thigh. "Would be a shame to let you go to work like this."

Your boyfriend expected you to protest just like you normally did when he initiated such things in the morning, but today you were so compliant. You scooted closer to him, leaning into his touch; eyes glazed in lust.

"Well aren't you needy today, princess?" he inquired playfully. He gently pushed you onto your back and spread your legs, the tips of his fingers skimming along your clothed slit.

"You're so wet already, princess. I can feel it through your clothes" The little moan that left your lips when his lithe digits slid beneath the wristband of your yoga shorts reverberated through Jōno's entire body.

With a swift tug at your pants and underwear he had you undressed, thumb lazily circling your clit. His hot breath fanned against your parted lips.

"Sai, gimme more~" you babbled out, fiercely seizing his wrist as you guided his fingers to your entrance.

Your boyfriend only smiled at your desperate attempt, ceasing his ministrations. "Take what you're given, sweetie. Or I won't give you anything at all" he purred, teeth grazing the shell of your ear.

You immediately complied with his order and released his arm. "Good girl. See, it wasn't that hard, was it?"

Suddenly, he plunged two of his fingers into you; stretching your leaking hole. A ragged moan escaped your parted lips as your nails dug into his forearm, causing your boyfriend to smirk. Your sinful sounds were like music to his ears, clouding his mind with lust. There was nothing he loved more than coaxing those delicious moans and whimpers out of you.

His digits pumped in and out of you at a steady pace; his thumb resuming its circular motions on your puffy clit.

"God baby I'm so close" you uttered in a ragged voice, thighs instinctively squeezing together.

Just as you felt the familiar heat pooling in your core, Jōno removed his hand from your underwear.

"Won't you look at that, love. We gotta go to work or we'll be late." he said tauntingly. You let out a loud hiss at the loss of touch.

"Sai, don't you dare leave me like this-" you cried out but it was too late. Your boyfriend was already on his way to the bathroom.

The rest of the morning was spent in silence hence you decided to punish your partner for teasing you. Of course, you were aware of how much Jōno enjoyed himself; a scornful laughter escaping his lips whenever you dodged his touch and kisses.

"I'm gonna head out, love. Good luck at work!" he voiced before leaving, but you didn't reply. A few seconds after you heard the door of your shared apartment close with a thud.

You spent most of the day in a state of utter annoyance and frustration, not being able to focus on any task you were given. All you wanted was for your partner to take care of your needs but instead he treated you like a plaything, leaving you brimming with pent-up desires.

Around 2 p.m, your phone chimed, announcing that you just received a text from Jōno. A rosy blush rose to your cheeks as your eyes scanned the glowing screen:

'Hi princess, I hope you're doing well at work. I know you're yearning for my touch but I promise I won't leave you unsatisfied tonight. Just be my good little girl and wait a few more hours. I know you can do it♡"

It's safe to say that that night, your boyfriend kept his promise.

𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖

my sweet angel he's the most caring person ever istg. he's a bit confused when you tell him that you're in heat since he doesn't really know how that affects him??

but once you explain that you'll need him he blushes so hard; but he takes it well

Tecchou take princess treatment to another level during this time. You get to relax after work while he does all the chores and cooks food

he prepares baths for you or spontaneously buys you a bouquet of roses♡ he's really sweet

you're never left unsatisfied in bed, like never. he has an incredible stamina and a never ending need to please you

The setting sun painted the blue sky of Yokohama in shades of purple, red and ochre, a warm light glowing through the high ceiling windows of the building. Tecchou was compiling his last report for the day when you peeked your head through the open doors of his office.

"Hi Hiro. Got a minute?" you beamed, lips curling into an impish smile.

"Of course, darling. Come inside."

Your sweet boyfriend didn't suspect anything as you closed the door and walked up to him, hips swaying gracefully. You positioned yourself on his lap, snaking your arms around his neck.

"So Hiro. How soon can we go home?"

"Soon. I just need to finish the paperwork." he replied, pointing at the half written page with his black fountain pen.

You pushed your lower lip forward into a pout, impatiently swinging your legs. "Ok but how soon is soon?"

Without taking his eyes off of the report, your boyfriend shrugged. "In a few minutes but... if I may ask, why are you so eager to get home, darling?"

"Oh, well" you said in a honeyed voice "I don't know if I ever told you this but because of my cat-shifting ability I sometimes experience heats"

"And?" he pressed, utterly unaware of what you were implying. His slender fingers were gingerly caressing your hips, making you shift uncomfortably in his lap.

"What I'm saying is that I'm horny, Hiro. And I need you to fuck me."

Your boyfriend's eyes shot open and he droppen the pen, little droplets of ink splattering the pearly sheet; the grip he had on your hip also tightened.

Pleased with his reaction, you ran one hand down his chest, slightly tugging at the buttons of his vest. "But of course we don't need to be home for that. There's plenty of space here" you added, patting his wooden desk.

Upon hearing your daring proposal, Tecchou's face turned a light shade of pink. "I mean... We're at the office my love but I promise I'll take care of you at home, ok?"

You give him a small nod and a peck on the cheek before hopping off his lap. "I'll be waiting for you in the car. Hurry up"

As you walked towards the door you could hear a sudden rustling of paper as your boyfriend haphazardly attempted to finish his work. He caught up with you just as you were exiting the building; of course, you didn't fail to notice his ragged breath. He'd probably ran down the stairs. You let out a soft chuckle as you noticed this.

"So, darling. Is there anything else I can do for you besides, you know...?" he asked sweetly "I mean, how does this affect you?"

"Well, I tend to lack in energy levels and I have a terrible attention span. I was actually thinking about taking a week off work 'till I feel better."

"I see..." After thinking for a few moments, Tecchou grabbed both of your hand and spoke in a solemn voice "Then I will do my best to do as many chores around the house. I'll cook dinner for us too so don't worry about it. Just focus on feeling better, ok?"

The look on his face was of pure devotion and determination; causing warmth to pool in your core.

You rose to the tips of your toes and cupped his face with your warm hands before pressing your lips on his. The kiss was tender and loving at first, but you soon found one of your hands entangled in his coffee-coloured locks as soft moans rolled off your lips. He swiftly scooped you up and made his way to your car.

Your boyfriend placed you in the backseat before taking off his cape and discarding it on the passanger's seat.

"Wait, Hiro. What are you doing?"

His skilled fingers quickly undid the buttons of his vest and he slid it off his shoulders, leaving him only in his tank top which showed his toned arms. All this time his hungry gaze was locked with yours, making you shiver with anticipation.

"Well darling. I guess you're not the only who's eager tonight" he said before joining you in the rear seat; hurriedly closing the door behind him.

[villainology]

i feel like a kid running around with their drawing to show everyone else in the room bc i've already told like 2 other blogs about this scenario i had while i was trying to sleep but can you IMAGINE being a family friend of the sawyers? maybe your grandparents knew theirs before times were tough and cannibalism became their means of survival, and your family's died off and left you the little farmhouse and patch of land a few miles outside of the sawyers' boundaries. drayton's clarified you're off-limits (through some honorary family-friend ideals, or as not to upset grandpa 'cause your folks were always kind to them) and you're none the wiser to their true savagery they get up to (you can hear a scream once or twice, when you drive your dad's old beat up truck near their land sometimes, but you always think they've got really rowdy and funny sounding goats). but you've inherited your family's farmhouse and poor little you just doesn't know anything about farming and fixing up the house! no matter how hard you try, nothing grows, so one uneventful day you drop off some seeds as a gift for drayton since, well, they're not getting any use with you, and you mention a problem that needs fixing. maybe it's a rusty shed door you can't get open, or a busted roof. either way, drayton's always liked to keep up apparances and you haven't had a chance to meet the new additions of the family, so drayton sends johnny back with you (after giving him thorough lecturing about how no, you are NOT a potential victim, you're just a little oblivious, and plus johnny's the most... convincingly normal one out of all of them, arguably) to fix something up for you as thanks for the seeds. so now there's a sweaty, attractive, pretty charming (and maybe a little subtly condescending) guy fixing up something because you hadn't the slightest clue how to fix it, so you might as well make him some lemonade or tea and thank him! and, well, johnny might think you're amusing. pretty sweet, pretty cute, pretty *airheaded*. drayton said you were off-limits for anything violent, of course, but that didn't mean he couldn't test any other limits, right?

aaaah~ no bc wait I think you’re onto something here!! you got me thinking so many filthy thots rn, so I made a lil drabble, hope that’s okay w you? 😭❤️ sjdbdjdndnfnf I hope it’s written okay, I wrote this half asleep in bed but I couldn’t stop thinking abt it!

warnings — slight dub-con, light smut, Johnny being Johnny!

“Here you go, Mr Johnny,” you smiled up the ladder toward him as you walked out with two glasses of lemonade in hand, “where’d ya want it?”

“Just set it down on the table there.” His voice was stern, a tad hint of annoyance laced into it, not that you noticed.

Johnny stood at the top of the ladder, nail in mouth as he hammered another into roof of your porch, closing off the gap which would hopefully stop the rattling noise anytime there was a gust of wind. He slipped the hammer and last few nails into his work belt before looking down at you stood below him, so innocently sipping through the curly straw in your lemonade glass.

The Texan heat wasn’t good for much, but the way it made a light coat of sweat glisten on your body as the sun began to set was enough to make him appreciate the summer weather. Your denim shorts just a little too high up and your white vest top just a little too low, but from where he was stood he got to have the perfect angle down your shirt, and you were none the wiser.

Johnny carefully came down the ladder before picking his glass up off the table, his eyes never once leaving your body. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, you really were oblivious, so innocent and air-headed that he wondered how you survived off by yourself all these years before coming back to the farmlands.

The way Drayton sent him out here with you alone, like sending a lamb off to the slaughter — an adorable, pretty little lamb making lemonade for a starving lion. Johnny wondered to himself what you’d think if you found out what they were really like, just how savage and dangerous they were, would you run scared from him, give him chase to hunt you down on acres of land?

“Sorry about you having to come out here, I’ve clearly got a lot to learn about all this type of stuff, huh?” You laughed as you gestured toward the house and the land surrounding it.

Johnny was snapped from his thoughts, a fake little smile crossing his face as he nodded, “don’t sweat it, darlin’, friends helping out friends, ain’t that right?”

He knew that Drayton said you weren’t to be a victim, that you weren’t some prey to be chased and hunted down, butchered just for the hell of it, but what about anything else? After all, this was Drayton’s way of saying thanks to you, but what did Johnny get out of this? Where was his thank you for fixing up your roof free of charge? If you weren’t going to be Johnny’s victim then he’d sure as hell find away for you to give him thanks.

“Say,” he placed his half empty glass down on the table beside him, “you moved back up here all alone, not got a boyfriend following you here?”

“Oh, heh, no. Haven’t had one of those in a long while, Mr Johnny.”

“Huh, well that’s just peachy, darlin’.”

He walked from the table and closer to you, his hand stroking up and down your arm as he worked his way behind you, his warm body pressing up against yours as he leaned down to your ear, “how about a thank you for all my hard work, hm?”

His hand snaked its way around your waist and played with the button of your shorts, his lips grazing across the delicate skin of your neck, gently kisses to distract you from what his hands were doing. Truth be told you didn’t want him to stop, and he could tell. The way you let him unbutton your pants without a fight, his fingers working their way between your legs and tracing a line back and forth against your clothed cunt.

“Mr Johnny, I don’t think—”

“That’s alright, baby, you don’t gotta think,” his free hand wrapped around your throat, tilting your head to the side so he could more easily bite and suck at your skin, “just gotta do whatever I tell you to do.”

After all, Drayton said you couldn’t be slaughtered like he did the others, but he didn’t say anything about Johnny not being able to fuck you til’ you couldn’t walk no more.

[blockgamepirate]

R = Rose (well, it's probably her), E = The Ender King

R: Long ago, E: A lifetime ago,

R: there was a child of the sky… E: there lived a man who fancied himself an explorer. . .

R: whose feathers were as dark as the night, of wings E: who flew with angels' wings,

R: that span across the Heavens. E: as vast as the endless Void.

R: He would take flight, possessing an unwavering spirit E: He soared wherever his whims took him,

R: and journeying through the unknown with a brave heart. E: claiming the treasures and secrets of the unknown as his own.

R: Day by day, E: Time after time,

R: he overcame trials and tribulations, an unwavering soul. E: he fought through trials no person was ever meant to survive.

These opening lines match so closely and it makes the differences in wording and tone very noticeable and interesting.

Rose (I'm just gonna assume it's her, alright) calls Phil a "child of the sky", the Ender King a "man who fancied himself an explorer". Rose is older than the Ender King and she's a protector, she views him as a child. The Ender King is scornful of others doesn't care about anyone but himself and views Phil as a man but immediately implies that Phil himself doesn't understand himself as well as he understands him.

Rose refers to the wings as "dark" but for the Ender King dark wings are kinda obvious, I mean what other kinds of wings are there, right? Instead he focuses on the comparison with angels, because feathers are kind of an alien concept for him, maybe, idk.

What Rose sees as "unwavering spirit", the Ender King sees as "whims", what Rose sees as journeying with a brave heart, the Ender King sees as conquest of the unknown. I think both are majorly projecting here lmao. They're describing themselves more than they're describing Phil.

Rose stresses Phil's unwavering soul "overcoming" trials, the Ender King sees them as battles to be "fought", maybe with a hint of grudging respect for Phil's success against all odds?

The rest of the text in each letter is less obviously mirrored, but the broad lines are still the same:

Rose describes Phil’s misfortune as seemingly having no clear reason, it’s just something that happened and it was a tragedy, but there's still hope for him. She focuses on his feelings of sadness and the way his presence was missed.

The Ender King blames Phil and sees this as some sort of divine punishment for his greed, again projecting his own faults onto Phil, that can only be escaped through redemption. This is clearly how he sees his own predicament now. And he draws that connection himself, explicitly.

I think by this point it's obvious that Rose views Phil as a child (her child?), the Ender King views him as a reflection of himself.

Rose only mentions herself off-handedly, doesn’t make a big deal of herself and even tries to dismiss her identity as unimportant. She only expresses her familiarity with Phil and that she feels his pain and wants to help him. She assures him that they will meet again (not realising that her message ended up being everything but comforting for him, oops.)

The Ender King talks about himself almost as much if not more than he talks about Phil, and only sees Phil’s value in his relation to himself. He makes a big deal about being THE ONLY ONE who can help Phil, which he offers to do, in the most condescending way possible. ”to grant you the peace of mind you so desperately seek”, okay dude.

And of course the way he addresses Phil is full of mockery where Rose's is full of gentle praise. It's interesting that he calls Phil by name, though, while Rose only addresses him by the same sobriquet she used in the beginning, "child of the sky".

It's also interesting how Rose seems to focus a LOT on Phil's wings, but it's hard to say if this is metaphorical or literal (or both). The Ender King's letter definitely makes it sound more like it's about Phil's mental state, him seeking "peace of mind". Rose also sort of touches on something related to that with the comment about his memories, but that's kinda it. The Ender King refers to his derealisation episodes very bluntly. Although I don't think either of them mean the problems with derealization is the thing he needs guidance for, considering they're BOTH actively making it worse with their messages.

If I were to guess, it's probably about him losing his memories and getting trapped on Quesadilla Island? idk. Possibly also the wings but I'm starting to lean towards the wings just needing to heal on their own and he probably doesn't actually need help with that.

Anyway, there are a lot of differences between the letters, but there are also a lot of core similarities: both of them are in a way treating him as a child, or a naive and childish person, both of them recognise his pain, both of them offer guidance and relief for said pain, although one through "faith" and one through "redemption" (oh boy there's a lot to say about that particular contrast that one could maybe make some real life comparisons about...) and although Rose does it a lot more, both of them associate him heavily with his wings.

I feel like there's also a certain level of respect for him in both letters, paradoxically. You wouldn't think that from how you have this almost coddling tone on one hand and mocking and condescending on the other. But they both describe him as a larger-than-life figure, almost like a mythical creature or a legendary hero (hero in the ancient sense of the word). And the way they BOTH emphasize the unfathomable vastness of his wings in such similar ways also doesn't seem coincidental. That's not how you (as a god) describe a mortal man, that's how you describe a fellow divine being.

(Honestly, these descriptions almost sound like he's a personification of a natural force, like he isn't just like the night or like the darkness, he is the night, he is the darkness, he is the void. What else would have wings that stretched out across the entire sky?)

And of course they both ultimately see him as someone worthy of their divine guidance.

I'm so excited to see if the other deities send him their own messages, I can't wait