#Upwards of 12k......just a couple...........

[sysig]

No Weekly TV Guide this week! I might try a little something else though...

[stellacendia]

Occasionally I am reminded that some people define a "long story" in very, very different ways than I do.... such as seeing someone describe a 12.5k fic as a "beast"

[madjosie]

Thorns and Roses | Bangchan (pt.1)

f!reader x detective!bangchan

Part two here

Note: mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, mentions of abuse, use of tobacco, detailed scenes of murder, mental illness

Words: 12k

-

The repeating flashing of red and blue lights in the distance jolted Christopher out of a long trance. For the entire twenty-minute ride, his mind was completely blank. His first murder investigation. His real chance to test his own ambition and knowledge he acquired over the long and hard years of college. But most importantly, to prove he didn’t get this job for nothing.

After finishing college and doing a couple of internships, his friend landed him a job at the local police investigation unit. At least that's what Changbin thought was the least he could do for his friend, who had gotten him through far more shit in life than he should have. Christopher and Changbin had been friends since the start of university and after realizing he failed his initial career path, Changbin encouraged Chris to try the justice system instead of his original choice of music. It was a hard decision for him to leave the thing he most loved behind, but Chris decided to follow his friend's words and got into criminology. On some nights he found himself dreading the decision, but his friend was always there to encourage him that the path he now found himself on was a real calling for him.

A few years later, the pair found themselves assigned to the same investigation. Changbin was well-loved within their unit, often described by coworkers as a witty chihuahua but also extremely hardworking, with a couple hundred cases behind him already. Christopher, on the other hand, had mixed reviews. Some thought he got the job just because of his friend, while others believed he had great potential, but not enough experience to be anything more than an assistant to Changbin. For the first month, his job was to act as a printer and coffee machine; nobody took him very seriously, including his boss. He thought maybe that was the process for everyone, that everyone had to go through the "maid phase" before getting assigned. He never spoke of it to Changbin, but he was already well aware of what was happening.

Upon arrival, a swarm of butterflies, or rather angered wasps, went crazy in Christopher’s stomach. Anxiety or excitement, he didn’t know. He came with the task of finding out how the crime happened, and he wasn’t going to let a few loose screws mess up his chance.

“Seems we’re a bit late,” the driver said, the buckles clicking as they frantically tried to take them off.

The scene was painted by flashing lights of cameras and police tape. To Chris, it resembled more a creepy movie set rather than an actual place. It was the middle of December, the cold air lay thick as two police officers made their way over to the two men. His companion Changbin mumbled curse words under his breath, rubbing his hands together frantically, trying to warm them up at least to comfortably greet the approaching officers.

“Evening, gentlemen.” One spoke, his breath painting shapes in the air.

“The forensics took the body for autopsy, feel free to head on over there.” The two investigators only nodded, the atmosphere seemingly not conducive to starting any conversation.

As they got closer, the scene became clearer. A plastic folder found its way into Christopher’s hands, his companion gesturing for him to flip through the pages.

“Only 26 years old?”

“Yep, and a quite successful businessman.”

His eyes turned upward to look at the rather underwhelming house. Maybe it was due to it being December and no flowers finding the strength to bloom under the thin coat of snow, or maybe it was due to the old musty doors and windows and an unkempt porch. Chris found the strength to let out a chuckle. “Sure seems like it.”

Changbin rubbed his temples. “Apparently his girlfriend was the last one to have contact with him, but she says that at the time of the murder she wasn’t even in town.”

“Is she in for questioning?”

“Yep, they got her in right now.”

Chris’s fingers traced along the glossy paper, outlining a few news reports of the man. He seemed to be quite a successful real estate agent. Ironic, considering he lived in what looked like a literal garbage truck.

Upon entering the house, Christopher’s stomach turned at the odor that hit him like a slap in the face. “Fucking shit.” Fortunately for him, he hadn't had the glory to inhale the lingering smell of a deceased body until now, which was now a shock to his gut. Taking a few seconds for his nervous system to calm down, his mind focused on the task. If he wanted a good reputation so badly, these kinds of things shouldn’t be an obstacle for him.

The suprisingly narrow hallway of the house led right to the living room, the floor and wall painted with crimson liquid. Trash decorated the floor along with evidence markers. Trying not to move anything around and make an even bigger mess, they made their way deeper into the house, the blinking of forensic cameras flashing every now and then.

“Forced entry?” Chris handed the folder back into Changbin’s hands. “No, we’re assuming the killer had a key,” one of the remaining police officers informed, bowing her head to both of them.

The red liquid that outlined the body stood in the living room, but the trail led farther out. It seemed that the conflict started in the kitchen and proceeded to the living room. Changbin left Christopher’s side, occupied with his own brainstorming. Chris took a better look at the evidence marked with the yellow plastic. Bloody shoe prints, knocked over chairs, the kitchen utensils untouched. The killer either brought their own weapon or took the one from here with them. Flipping through a few more pages of the folder, it seemed that the footprints belonged to the victim. No found fingerprints, no DNA left anywhere. Making his way to the backyard of the house, Chris was greeted with a fresh thin layer of snow.

“How long has he been dead for?” Maybe if it hadn’t been long, he could find footprints or any type of trail. It hadn’t snowed a lot these past days, so if it happened at least two days ago— “Four days,” Changbin was heard from the bathroom, making Chris sigh in frustration and shut the back door with a loud thud. He leaned his back against the kitchen counter as his eyes fell on the small dining table in the middle of the room.

A splash of purple caught his attention from his peripheral vision. A small bouquet of purple flowers covered in glitter was thrown in the corner of the kitchen counter, barely visible because of the microwave.

“Seems like he did have a good relationship with his girlfriend,” Changbin followed his companion's gaze. “There’s no sign of struggle in the bathroom.”

For some reason, Chris decided to pull out his phone. With a quick tap and a 'click' sound, he captured the lonely pile of now long dead roses.

Time flew by, and by the 60-minute mark, they decided to call it a day. Nothing new was found except for the small sign of affection thrown away in the kitchen. The only thing they could do was wait for the analysis of the evidence found and the autopsy results to reach their hands.

-

3:37 AM blinked on the clock. No sign of sleep.

Chris usually had a very hard time falling asleep, being prescribed sleeping medicine ever since he got into college. His body seemed to prefer the nocturnal lifestyle. Chris rubbed his eyes, turning in his bed for the twelfth time in the past half-hour. “God fucking dammit.”

His feet hit the cold apartment floor. Step by step, he made his way to the balcony. The lights of the city drew warm shapes on the white snowy canvas, but the city had never felt this cold. With a deep sigh, he took a seat on a not-so-stable wooden chair, pulling out a box of tobacco that had been squished in the back of his pocket for the whole day. He knew it was a bad habit, and at some point in life, he might even regret it, but for his mind, it was the only option. Putting on one of his own tunes in the background, he looked over at the city, focusing on making shapes with the clouds and lights rather than the running worries.

He knew he should be extremely grateful for how far he had come, but the feeling of a missed opportunity never left his tough head. Is this even his real calling? Maybe he should have pursued music when he said he wanted to? Maybe he should have stayed on the path he started on when he got to university? Maybe it’s not his coworkers but him? His own performance? Instead of waiting for work, should he have gotten up and demanded it?

A loud groan left the deepest pit of his throat as his head fell in a desperate attempt to quiet down the most annoying and loud part of his brain. He felt as if the engines in his brain had been working for a year without stopping, and he was a minute away from overheating and shutting down. He felt a pair of eyes looking at him, his gaze spiking up immediately.

His eyes met with a girl’s. Her face was defined by only a couple of shadows from the old streetlights. Her expression seemed startled and puzzled; he could only make out the shadow of her softly curled jawline and her long hair. It seemed like she was carrying some bags with her.

“You scared me, are you okay?” Her voice was sudden, a soft melodic vibration merging out of the darkness. To Chris, her voice had become one with the now soft jazz melody playing on his phone. “Sorry. I burned myself with the cigarette.” He awkwardly chuckled as he pulled up the almost-done cigarette to show her. Probably not the most attractive thing a guy could have said for an excuse. Seemed like the only logical option, he was not going to vent to a random stranger at 3AM about how his life choices made him miserable.

She awkwardly laughed with raised eyebrows and nodded, shifting on her feet before taking a quick step, trying to escape making this conversation far more awkward than it is by now. Before he could say anything more, she sent a quick wave to the weird shirtless man on the balcony, disappearing away from the orange street lights, back into the darkness. 

-

With a huff of relief, she set down the two bags in front of the shop’s entrance. Fiddling through the pockets of her cardigan sweater, she caught hold of a flower-shaped keychain with a pink ice cream cone glued to it. Her own work of craft.

The bell of the small shop rang as the door pushed it, usually signaling an incoming customer, but now signaling her despair and urgency. “Okay, three hours to finish it, it’s enough time.” She breathed out in a desperate attempt to calm her nerves.

She autonomously set down one bag on the counter of her work place, while the other got chucked into a big wooden box that was hidden under a broken piece of wooden flooring.

She doesn't really remember when she got the habit of doing that, or what kind of materials are even in there, but she still liked to keep them in case she ran out of something in the middle of crafting.

The pickup was scheduled for 7 AM, and did she completely forget about it and sleep through the whole afternoon and half of the night? Yes. Were an angry bride and a ruined wedding on her bucket list for this month? No.

Who the hell even has a wedding in the middle of cold December?

Her worktable, usually filled with colorful ribbons and glitters, was now covered in various shades of white, gold, and pink. Placing every flower in its designated place, not one should be even an inch off. In her mind, every misplaced glitter particle could be seen, every wrong shade diamond could ruin the whole piece, every miscolored petal could completely destroy the bouquet. She was a skilled artist, and flowers were her medium, her self-defense of choice.

Flowers could make everything pretty. Even the saddest lawn with a few daisies turns into a cozy backyard. Flowers even make funerals beautiful. It’s a sign of life. But they won’t bloom in the wrong conditions. They need sun and water to grow, to become beautiful; otherwise, they rot and become one with the ground, the ground they grew from. When you plant a flower, you have to look after it, just like a mother and father look after their children. Feed them and watch them grow into a person.

Roses hold a special place in her heart. The symbol of love, affection, and life. But roses come with thorns, and what do you do with those thorns? Thorns are there to protect the beauty of the rose, and if you touch them, they hurt you. Then what do you do with them? You remove them from the rose and throw them away.

-

The clock struck 7:48 AM, and the bell this time signaled a customer. A late customer, nothing new.

"Pick up for Watson," a friendly voice sang from behind the counter. Adriana emerged from the colorful beads in the doorway of her little workshop, greeting back in the same cheerful tone.

"Here you go, I hope the bride likes it." She handed over the carefully crafted bouquet of white roses and transvaal daisies, decorated with various ribbons and glitters.

"Oh my god, she will love it. Thank you again."

The cheerful woman exited the store, leaving only the faint sound of the TV to set the ambiance in the store.

Winter was always slow in the shop. Not many people find snow and harsh winds perfect for holding outside weddings or birthdays, hell even funerals get rescheduled. But, of course that is not always guaranteed, such as today. For these kinds of situations she decided that maybe it was worth it to stay open during winter.

The calm atmosphere was cut short by the ringing of Adriana's phone, her favorite song indicating that someone was trying to reach her. She picked it up and swiped the green button across the screen. "Hello?"

"Adriana, can you please come over? Some shit happened. I was at the police station until now—"

"Lila?"

"I came home last night, I didn't even enter the house and-"

"Wait, Lila, slow down. Where are you?"

The voice on the other line stopped to take a breath. "I'm at my apartment. Please come over. Jaehyun was found dead last night."

-

The apartment complex suddenly filled with the sound of hard footsteps. Moments later, Adriana found herself wrapping her arms tightly around her best friend, whose cries were quick to be muffled by Adriana's cardigan. In this moment of despair, Adriana didn't know how to feel; she usually kept her emotions very well under control, but now, they ran wild.

She didn't like Lila's boyfriend at all. The history between them only made Adriana's body boil with anger rather than happiness for the couple, and for all the right reasons. But seeing Lila break down in her arms naturally put all of that aside, how could she focus on anything else but tightly wrapping her arms around her.

“The police questioned me the whole fucking morning. They think I did it,” Lila managed to say between sobs.

“Oh, fuck,” Adriana broke the hug, her face painted with disbelief. She couldn’t grasp the accusation of her sweet best friend killing a human being, the amount of monstrous venom that needs to run through your veins to take the life of another living and breathing being. Lila was completely incapable of such an act.

Lila’s voice grew louder, filled with desperation. “I didn’t do it, I swear. I was out of fucking town. How the hell could they accuse me of that?” The cries got louder as Adriana’s comforting became more and more useless.

“Listen, I know you were out of town. We even texted about it.” She took Lila’s hands in hers. “I’ll be the witness for your alibi. I know you didn’t do it, Lila. We will print out the texts that you sent me and give them to the police. You’re gonna be okay Lila.”

The room eventually quieted down as Lila caught her breath, nodding in confirmation at Adriana's words. Only a faint ‘thank you’ could be heard from Lila before she got pulled into a hug once more.

Her boyfriend Jaehyun was a pretty sketchy guy. Adriana didn’t know much about him, except for the fact that he was a pure asshole towards Lila, and that he had a history of abusing drugs. Great combination.

Adriana was convinced the drugs led to his aggressive behavior. On multiple occasions she tried to sit down with Lila and convince her to break things off with him, but that just erupted an argument between the two girls. She didn’t want their friendship to end, so she stopped trying and only offered a shoulder to cry on when incidents with him happened. On couple of occasions he even threatened Adriana, which spiked an unfamiliar feeling within her. A feeling that she could maybe be the last page of his book, and the first chapter of Lila’s new life, but choosing morals, Adriana deleted the text and never mentioned it to Lila.

-

The cafeteria was filled with the bustling sounds of plates and chattering, every group occupying their own little table much like a high school cafeteria. Chris took slow bites of his now cold and tasteless mashed potatoes while the two men in front of him argued about something he didn't pay much attention to. It was amusing enough for him to just watch them bicker.

“Yeah, but if you leave it on for 10 then you're basically eating a rock.”

“I didn't say 10, I said 7. Are you even listening? Who the fuck boils eggs for 10 minutes?” Hyunjin spoke while pulling on Changbin's ear.

Changbin was quick to react to that, slapping Hyunjin's hand away. “Ay, you can't do that to your senior.”

Chris, on the other hand, stayed quiet, chuckling to himself at the two grown men pushing and pulling at each other’s nerves. One thing about Hyunjin that Chris valued the most was his sense of self. Nobody could tell that man anything; he followed his own path. Even though his main occupation was to nitpick at rotten dead bodies and analyze bloody weapons, he still didn't throw away his love for art. That man painted day and night, no matter how much his job as a forensic tired him out.

Their laughter was cut short by the appearance of a usual, grumpy face. “Christopher, I need you in the interrogation room. You too,” Hank pointed at Chris then briefly at Changbin.

The two men shot the long-haired boy an apologetic look while standing up from the plastic cafeteria chairs.

“We will finish this discussion later,” Changbin whispered under his breath to Hyunjin before the long-haired man was left alone to finish his lunch.

“We have a witness for Miss Bennett. You need to make a formal report of it and add it to the record. Christopher I believe you have the skills to do atleast that, right?”

He couldn’t say no to Hank, he was already terrified of him as it is. This was the first time their boss directly gave a task to him, and it felt like a huge responsibility to take it, and most importantly, do it right.

Hank handed a stack of papers to Changbin, shooting a polite smile to both of them, or more like a threatening one as it seemed.

“You’ve done this before right?” Changbin turned to look at the dumbfounded boy in front of him, raising an eyebrow at his expression.

“Twice,” Chris nodded. “I think.”

Picking out a couple of papers, Changbin handed them to Christopher, before grabbing him by his shoulders and turning him towards the big black doors. The words interrogation room bolded above a small frosted window.

He stood on the other side of a one-way mirror, awaiting the sign that he could seat himself on the chairs that stood on the other side of the reflective glass. He didn't really know what to expect; he didn't even have questions formed in his head yet, but with a few nudges and looks from Changbin his nerves let loose for at least a second or two.

To Chris, it felt like not even a second had passed before he was sitting in a pretty uncomfortable chair. His fingers fiddled with the rims of the pages of a series of notes in front of him. He was well aware the conversation was being recorded, and he for sure didn't want to have any mistakes on his record.

Just take a deep breath and stop being a bitch.

He heard the door of the interrogation room open. Three quiet "good mornings" were exchanged, but he was too anxious to look up at the women now sitting across from him. He finally pulled his gaze up, first catching a glimpse of the uniform of a police officer in the corner of the room, then at a strangely familiar pair of eyes.

Chris cleared his throat before speaking, “Good morning, ladies. Today is the 7th of December 2023, 11:05AM. Please state your names and relations to the victim for the record.”

As they spoke, he pulled out a blank piece of paper, writing down the date in the corner as he waited for them to voice out their names.

“Lila Bennett.”

“Adriana Lee.”

The man in front of them felt his breath stop for a second, the voice of the woman echoing through his ears, reminding him of a jazz melody. His eyes looked up at her, the woman calmly awaiting for the witnessing to continue. His eyes traced the familiar outline of her jawline.

“And your relations to the victim,” he cleared his throat once more, desperately trying to get the clump of anxiety out of it. He barely even spoke to her last night, but now that he sees her in the clear light instead of the streetlamp lighting, he's finding it hard to organize his thoughts.

“Girlfriend.”

“Lila's friend.”

“Okay, and miss Lee you are here to comfirm the alibi of miss Bennet on the night of the murder, December 6th, 2023?”

The woman in front of him just nodded.

“Correct?”

“Yes.” The jazz-like voice spoke up again.

“Can you confirm the location of miss Bennet of the night of the murder?”

“Yes, she had previously announced to me that she had a business trip to attend from the 4th to the 6th of December. She even sent me photos of the trip.”

“Mhm, and where were you off to, Miss Bennett?”

“I told you already, I was on a business trip to New York.” Lila's voice broke. Adriana could tell that the police weren't on her side at all with this. Hell, they are probably too lazy to even do any real investigation and just want to get it over with. She took her hand under the table, squeezing it tightly.

“I told you, I have proof she was there,” Adriana spoke to the man. “I can show you, I have them printed out.”

She reached for her bag, pulling out five printed photos of their chats from the last few days. Christopher's eyes scanned the text, noticing the photos were sent at the right time. He put the photos over the stack of papers on the table.

His attention turned from Lila to Adriana. “And can you please confirm where you were on the night of the murder?”

“I was at home sleeping. At around 3AM, I had to urgently get up to run some errands for my shop.”

Chris just nodded at the reply. “I can confirm that.”

Adriana's brows furrowed in confusion, trying to recall if she came in contact with anybody last night. She was so occupied with running to the store to finish that damn bouquet and by the lack of sleep for the whole entire morning that digging for any more information in her brain felt like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Maybe she didn't hear him right.

“Oh, the shirtless guy.” Her mouth formed an 'O' shape, her finger pointing at him.

His ears perked up at the response. He loudly cleared his throat before continuing. “Alright, and when did miss Bennet arrive back from New York?”

“It should be in the text.” Lila spoke up before Adriana could get a word out.

“You didn’t text me, you called me in the morning.” The other girl whispered to Lila. The hand holding hers suddenly getting sweaty.

The man in front of them eyed them both, switching his gaze from the girl on the left, to the girl on the right. His gaze seemed to stop at hers.

“I told you, I called the police as soon as I got home and saw him lying ther-“

“Please, sir. You even saw me on my way to the shop. You were on the balcony, I remember-“

With a swift motion, Chris got up from his chair, gathering all the papers and binders from the table. “Okay, the hearing is done. I will send the photos for further investigation. Have a great day, ladies.” He barely even finished the sentence before he was already out the door.

“The fuck was that, Chris? You could have asked so many more questions.” Changbin exclaimed, his tone not very angry but rather just confused and laced with dissapointment. He knew Chris never acted weird unless something was bothering him, but he couldn't really guess what was happening to him. He had a simple job of asking a few questions and writing down the answers on a piece of paper.

“We have enough evidence with this. Just send it over and rule her out.”

Dropping the few papers in Changbin's hands, Chris decided to return to the cafeteria, hoping at least Hyunjin was still there.

-

For the third time this month, a man has been found dead in his home. Autopsies reveal that all three victims showed signs of struggle, but unfortunately, no murder weapons or significant clues have been found. The crimes are still under investigation, and we are currently awaiting new information. We kindly ask all citizens if they have any information about the victims or possible suspects, to please contact the number below or the local police department. On the further note, authorities recommend keeping homes locked at all times. I am Tina Mitchell with ABC News—

The monotone voice of the news anchor was quickly cut short by Lila turning off the TV. Adriana sighed, her hands handling the hot glue gun with precision.

“Do you think they're all connected?” Lila questioned, rolling a plastic diamond between her fingers before sticking it onto the fresh layer of glue on the decorative paper. The two had been in the shop for the past couple of hours, sipping tea and trying to shift their minds to anything but the last few days, but to no avail. Every channel they turned to, every video they watched, every radio channel they tuned into—everyone talked about the murders of these three men. Knowing the topic hurt Lila, Adriana never thought of bringing it up first, but if Lila brought it up, she was more than willing to continue the conversation. Adriana, to some extent, understood her but a big part of her also didn't. Jaehyun was abusive, and as crazy as it was to admit to herself, Adriana was happy that the man finally had no way to control and harass her. He was a pretty rich and put-together guy on the outside, but when the covers lifted, he was actually a raging psycho, or in Adriana's words—a devil that should have never walked this earth. Every time he broke Lila into pieces, Adriana was the one gluing them all back together.

“Could be. There are no weapons found in any of them.”

A moment of silence fell between the two. Adriana’s eyes briefly caught Lila’s fingertips picking at the skin of her hands. “I told you to stop doing that.”

“Do you think Jaehyun deserved it?”

Tears brimmed in Lila's eyes, but she tried her best not to cry. In her mind, she thought her best friend had suffered enough because of her, and that her crying again would just set them back. Her friend worked so hard to try to make her feel better, cooking her meals when she couldn’t, cleaning her apartment, letting her cry in her arms.

“Do you want the honest answer?”

“Yes.”

“I do.”

A tear managed to escape Lila’s eye before she could wipe it with the hem of her sweater.

“Lila, he abused you, you are finally free from that.” By her words, Lila seemed to be letting her tears fall more freely.

“I know it hurts, but it was for the better, no matter how heartless it sounds.”

Lila knew Adriana wasn’t the best person to feel remorse for such people, but she couldn’t deny that her best friend’s words did pull at the strings of her heart. She took one more deep breath, finally wiping the last tear off her soft cheek.

Finally, a sob escaped her lips “But it hurts,”

“I know honey, its going to hurt until you tell yourself it doesn’t.”

The girls exchanged a quick tight hug, and a quick smile before turning their attention back to the peals and stems surrounding their table.

The cheerful bell of the store rang as footsteps echoed through the store.

“Good afternoon, welcome to Petal Paradise, how can I—” Lila's sad voice quickly changed by the cheerful customer voice, but it suddenly stopped without a warning, alerting Adriana in the back of the workshop. “How can I help you?” Lila finished in a quiet, almost unhealable voice.

“Oh hello, we didn't know this was your shop.” The shorter man spoke in a soft tone, trying not to alarm Lila by their appearance. “Oh this is not my—”

“Hello, how can I help you?” Adriana took her usual position behind the counter, staring at the two familiar men. The appearance of them sent a protective signal in her mind, quickly pulling her best friend behind her, hiding her behind her own body.

“We're not here because of the investigation, he just wanted to—”

“I saw the arrangements on your display, so I wanted to buy my date a nice bouquet. We don't mean to cause you inconvenience.” Changbin butted in the middle of Chan's speech. Both girls visibly relaxed at the statement.

“What style of bouquet are you looking for?”

Adriana’s words were still laced with caughtion, but she knew she should act towards them like she would to any other customer. Maybe it was a better idea for Lila to come to her shop another day. Seems like this would only bring more trouble on her already weak heart.

“Ermm...” The shorter man rubbed his chin while his eyes scanned all the displayed bouquets, ranging from sunflowers to roses to tulips in all different styles and colors. “This one.” He pointed at the one hanging near the TV. A rich pink and red bouquet with silver ribbons and small pink angels glued to the wrapping. The tulips of various colors hugged each other, making their colors resemble a pink sunrise.

“The tulip one?” Lila spoke up, finally finding the courage to look at the man that she had been pushing and pulling with for the past week.

Still after the confirmance of the alibi, she was still up for questioning for a couple of times before they finally decided to drop her as a suspect from the case. The man who mostly interrogated her was the one who was now standing in front of her, taking interest in the work of her own hands and mind.

Lila quickly made her appearance right in front of Changbin, eager to inspect his wishes for the boquet, much like he questioned her, except this was a much more lighthearted discussion for Lila’s mind.

Lila wasn't a full-time worker at Adriana's shop, but trying to be a good friend, she often hopped in to help Adriana during busy hours. Over time, Lila started to catch a grip on it. In bad moments, the two girls would find themselves covered in glue and glitter, smelling like a Lush bath bomb. Adriana noticed Lila's talent, so she decided to display some of her works in the shop, and Lila couldn't be more proud of them.

To her best friend’s surprise, she visibly got rid of all of her fear and dread by the mention of her own little bouqet.

After a minute of debating, the two found their way to the back of the workshop to discuss futher about the decorations.

“Very romantic for a first date.” Adriana chuckled, looking up at the brown-haired man in front of her as she typed in her register, the only thing making her feel at a safe distance from the man in front of her.

“He sure is.” He nodded in agreement. “Oh, I'm Christopher. I think it would be time to finally formally tell you my name.” His hand found itself reaching out to her.

Adriana hesitated before her eyes fell on the growing pink color on his nose. The faint dimple showed on his cheek as his eyes formed creases while he politely smiled

She took his hand into hers, giving it a few shakes. “Adriana. You're the weird shirtless guy, and the detective.”

He let out a laugh as he let go of her hand, nodding his head. “Don't know about the shirtless guy part.” He chuckled once more, rubbing his nose, resulting in the soft color rushing back once more. “Sorry about that, I was having a rough night.”

“No need to apologize to me. You burned yourself.” Adriana turned on her heel, walking to the outside of the counter and plopping herself on a fluffy emerald green couch placed in the corner of the shop. “You can come sit while we wait on those two.”

The pair found themselves in comfortable silence as they waited. Given that the couch wasn't very big, their knees often bumped into each other, causing a fit of quiet 'excuse me's' and 'I'm sorry's'.

In hopes of trying to avoid another awkward memory in the making, the pair found their focus shifting to the small pastel pink radio and the classical music that was coming from it.

“Enemies to lovers. Joshua Kyan Alampour?” He questioned.

“You listen to classical music?”

“Not really, I just know Clair de Lune and this one.” He chuckled. “I’m more of a rap guy, i'd say.”

“Oh, wow,” Adriana nodded, trying not to erupt in laughter by his awful attempt to strike a comfortable conversation. No way he is an actual interrogator. “I don’t think rap would be suitable for this kind of place.”

“Oh definetley not, stick to classical.”

Adriana was biting her lip, trying not to let the bubbling pit of laughter burst out of her, while on the other hand Chris was trying not to bang his head on the nearest coffee table.

Finally, the moments of despair ended, and Lila and Changbin emerged from the colorful door decorations.

“I'm so glad you like it. Have fun on your date.” Lila exclaimed as Adriana joined to greet them out.

“See you around.” Chris turned to send one of those dimpled smiles again, and with the sudden restriction of the possibility to form a functional sentence, Adriana just smiled and nodded goodbye.

-

The cold winter streets got washed by a wave of rain and wind. The sound of it hitting the ground accompanied by the sound of police sirens and curious groups of neighbours, set the atmosphere of that night. Fourth victim this month. Same settings as always. No forced entry, no sign of any murder weapons, no hopes of Chris ever growing in his bosse's eyes. The police investigation unit had been putting the last few cases as priorities, thinking that maybe this was all a connected act. An act of greed for money, or maybe just pure jealousy, or even just raging partners. The team got called out for yet another eary hour investigation, making Chris curse everyone and anyone that was in charge of distributing cases. He finally managed for once to fall asleep without taking his medication.

The house where the new homocide took place looked monotone as usual, making Chris feel like he got teleported back to the first time he even went on these types of investigations. The floor beneath their feet creaked as groups of forensics and investigators and police hoarded the house, sending comments to eachother every once in a while in hopes of puzzling up a convincing story, but to no avail. Leads were impossible to find and as minutes passed the atmosphere at the crime scene indicated more and more that the only thing they agreed upon that the past few incidents were calculated and connected.

„Do you think somebody was hired to do this?“ A tall man in a white hazard suit spoke up, the suit crincling as he put his hands on his hips.

„Why would anyone spend that much money to kill people like this?“ Changbin answered Hyunjin, widening his arms to point at the state of the house. As usual, the house wasn't very well kept. With empty bottles and various kinds of trash littering the, what seemed like once was, a very light and spacious living room.

Hyunjin shrugged his shoulders. „Debt maybe?“

„Could be, they all seemed to be quite successful at some points in their life. Don't know how that could turn into this.“

A faint sound of moving chairs and the closing and opening of doors could be heard in the background. Hyunjin and Chanbing didn't think to look at the man, figuring he had something mapped out in his mind and that it was best to leave him to it.

„Do you have any connections to the victims?“

Nobody has really came foward about these men. They have gotten a few calls from former employees or from ex-friends, but nothing to make the story significantly change. The girlfriend of the last victim has been ruled out long ago, leaving the case pretty much cold, and by the pace they were going with, it seems like the remaining three ones will end up just the same.

The autopsy report was also long due, looking at the fact that the first body has been sent in for inspection almost a month ago. Without the reports they was nothing they could really do, not knowing the weapon used and not having found one at the crime scenes.

The tensions in the department were heating up. Chris has been assigned to the case for a few weeks now, and by the looks of it, and by the looks that his boss sends his way, he was not in for a good time. Could he potentially be fired? Probably not. Changbin would not let get Chris fired in any book, but was there a chance of him getting landed just heavy paperwork and coffee stains. Very much possible.

The man now inspecting the kitchen floors has working the hardest he had ever been, not even a single peck of dust going unnoticed, and most certanly, not even a small purple petel that had suddenly caught his attention.

It was squished between the cracks of the musty beige tiles of the kitchen floor, leaving some purple pigment smeared across the cold tiles. The glitters from it seemed to be speckled everywhere, from the tiles, all the way leading up to the dining table. It couldn't be that this one tiny thing travelled so far and left such a trail. Chris dug through an archive of memories, trying to remember where exactly he saw that sparkle once before. He twisted the small petal, delicate and vibrant, between his gloved fingertips. It was a dark shade of purple, with a subtle light gradient towards the area where it once used to be connected with the stem.

With a quick whip of his phone, his fingers glided through various apps trying to find the one that would revive his memory, and not long after, a picture of a chucked boquet at an old kitchen counter stood before him.

„I might have found something.“ Chris's voice was finally heard from the next door room, alerting both Changbin and Hyunjin. Soon enough, the suited man found himself next to the investigator, analyzing the small flower remain after snatching it from the investigator at the speed of light. „It's just a rose.“

Leaning over the two men to take a look at the new found item, Changbin cimmed in. „How the hell will that lead to anything?“

„Remember the real estate agent guy, from like a week ago? We saw the same type of flower at his own kitchen. See?“ Chris flashed up his phone of the same flower he took, trigerring a not very amused look on his partner's face.

Changbin wasn't really having any of it, wile on the other hand Hyunjin was  quite intrigued by what Chris had to say. After all the pushing and pullin they might have actually found some type of clue that could help them progress, and not spin in circles.

„Wow congradulations, now we can show the jury that if you buy a bouqet of purple roses that look like a unicorn shit on them you might end up getting slashed by the throat.“

Couple of scoffs were heard. „Come on Changbin, don't be an ass. It could really mean something.“ Hyunjin spoke up.

„How the fuck do we go from here, we follow the glitter trail into a fairy killer's house?“ It was visible to the both men that the last couple of weeks took a toll on Changbin aswell. Everyone expected a lot from him and he expected a lot from himself. „Oh or even better, maybe we should send it to the lab to wait another fucking month, and have Hank bickering above my head for the whole week like a fucking seagull.“

Hyunjin sighed once more as his fingers found their way to rub his temples. „You're such a dick these days.“ And with that, Hyunjin left the two men in the kitchen of the crime scene. Changbin knew he was, but the frustrations came over him like an avalanche.

„I know someone I can ask.“ Was the last thing Changbin heard before he was left by himself, surrounded by the familiar yellow markers and a nausious mix of chemicals.

-

The heavy sounds were muffled by melodic beats, ringing in the ears. Thousands of voices tried to pick the right from wrong, creating a cacophony that drowned out any lost hopes of peace. Thoughts collided, creating a storm too powerful, turning the once melodic rhythmic beats uneven. The storm overcame and swallowed any last bit of clarity. The trees that once grew in the palace of a beautiful mind, planted and left to grow, twisted and turned out of their roots, swallowed by the heart of the storm. One by one, they disappeared.

Eyes shifted from one crimson puddle to another, the scenery resembling a collision of two rivers. The rivers twisted and turned around the room, colors blending with numerous shades of gray, consuming any vibrant speck. Making sense of the surroundings was almost impossible. The body moved on its own, while the mind struggled against a force that wanted total control. This force ordered the body to pick up anything that could potentially give it away, anything that could lead to the destruction of the little paradise the force had created for itself.

Each step was driven by an unseen compulsion, an urgency to erase traces, to cover tracks that could lead to exposure. The air felt thick with tension, every breath heavy with the weight of the task at hand. The rhythmic beats grew more erratic, mirroring the turmoil within. Shadows danced on the walls, fleeting glimpses of a reality that seemed just out of reach.

There was no room for error. The voice echoed, layered, each letter bouncing off the walls. After the final order, it stopped. The limb that once snuffed out the burning candle of life caught a velvety texture. The royal purple splash of vibrance found itself consumed by the crimson river.

-

The morning was greeted by the sun after the last night's storm, creating a rainbow here and there in the light blue sky. It wasn't a busy morning, so Adriana chose to take it slow and not bombard herself with tasks like she usually did when opening the store. With the ring of a bell, she left the colorful little building and headed over to a small coffee shop right across the street.

"One coffee with milk, please."

The young girl behind the counter flashed Adriana a smile accompanied by a nod. Adriana took a seat in a booth near a window overlooking her store, her eyes darting towards the once snow-covered street. The smell of sweet pastries and brewing coffee calmed her mind. For some reason, her body seemed more tense than usual today, maybe due to a lack of sleep or the stress circulating for the past few weeks.

Closing her eyes, she tried to shake away the chills, but to no avail. A dreading feeling had found a home in the back of her mind. Her body felt dirty, and her mind felt even worse. She dug deep into her memory to find the cause but couldn't even remember coming home. The last thing she recalled was going for a couple of drinks with Lila and her friend at the downtown bar, but that was way before the storm even started, yet somehow, she could still feel the wind and rain hitting her skin. Could it be—no. She would never let that happen again, drunk or sober.

The face of her father flashed before her eyes. The feeling of his fingertips brushing against her bare skin, and that stupid smile as he looked at her with every emotion but the one a loving father should have for his daughter.

Her eyes abruptly opened as her name was called. She quickly gathered her stuff from the booth table and made her way to the counter where two coffee cups were sitting. She reached for the wallet in her purse, counting out the loose change to give to the cashier.

"How much for the both?"

Her head turned to look at the voice behind her, and her eyes met with a familiar pair of light brown orbs.

"Chris?" Her brows shot up at the sight of him. "4.40 for the two coffees."

He flashed her a smile before handing a bill to the cashier. "I went to look for you at the store, then I saw you from the window. I was hoping I could have a chat with you."

"Yeah, sure."

Adriana must admit it was a pleasurable shock to see Chris in front of her, but something told her she wasn't in for a sweet chit-chat. With goodbyes exchanged with the cashier, they exited the sweet-scented coffee shop and made their way to the building across. They both set their belongings on the emerald green couch, the couch where Chris felt his legs were going to give up on him last time he sat there. He knew he had to stay professional today, even though he really wished he had an excuse to talk to her about anything but the cases he was assigned to.

He didn't understand why, but the pure sight of her made some type of feeling wash over him, a feeling of his chest tightening and his brain getting foggy. He must admit to himself that he felt very pathetic to be experiencing this in the presence of a person he saw only three times, two of them being completely awkward, and the third being purely professional. It was like he couldn't help himself but be completely drawn to her. Maybe it was her long chestnut hair, or her piercing eyes that seemed to hold as much wisdom as they did mystery. He couldn't really put his finger on it, but he had to snap out of it. He was talking to her for a reason.

"We can sit and chat here. I usually drink my morning coffee here anyways." She led him through the back door to a tiny porch. It was pretty hidden off, a line of big trees and bushes creating a tall fence around the small garden of the store. On the wooden floor sat a tiny light wood table with two foldable chairs overlooking a row of clay pots waiting to be planted with colorful flowers. The garden was quite lively for this time of year, a few winter-thriving plants occupying their space along with the birds that found their home here.

A tiny greenhouse sat in the corner. He figured that's where she grew most of the flowers she used for her crafts.They placed their coffee cups on the table before a comfortable silence took over for a minute.

It felt absurd to Adriana to let a random man sit with her and drink coffee in her place of peace, but unlike with most strangers, she felt quite comfortable with him. It was odd to her rather than alarming. She was always cautious and observant around strangers; she had to be.

"It's quite chilly," he said, breaking the silence. He took a short sip of his coffee before rubbing his hands together.

"Much less than last night."

"Right, I got called to investigate while it was going on." His lips pressed against the paper cup to take another sip. "Barely came home alive."

A chuckle fell out of Adriana's lips as she took a sip from her own. "Now imagine that but you're drunk and in heels."

A small fit of laughs erupted from both of them. "Who the hell thinks of going out in that weather?"

"Wasn't my choice. Lila needed some company. I wasn't gonna turn her down." She shrugged her shoulders, letting out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

"How is she holding on?"

"She was fine until the funeral. Now she's back at the beginning, it seems."

Chris nodded. He knew it took a long time to get over such a death, especially if it was a close person, but it felt weird how Adriana talked about it with such ease. Surely, they were close. He was her best friend's boyfriend.

"I'm sorry we couldn't come back with any clues. The body was found with a slash over the throat, nothing more nothing less. We asked left and right, and nobody could recall seeing anybody."

She just nodded, not a word escaping her mouth.

She felt weird talking about it, or rather listening. It's not that she felt much dread about the death at this point, but the atmosphere in the air didn't seem to sit right. She waited for him to speak up again, but he didn't. Soon they fell into the same silence once more.

The once excitement to be talking to Christopher turned into pure anxiety, to an extent even fear. She knew he didn't come here for no reason and she anxiously waited for him to bring it up, but he didn't.

She looked over at him. He seemed to be lost in his mind, focused on something. He didn't notice her gaze shift onto him, so she took the chance to admire his features. A voice in her head seemed to be screaming at her to stop, to resist the urge, that it was no use to fall into these feelings, that he's going to hurt her just like the way the man closest to her did. That he is capable of the things both her father and Jaehyun did. But despite the effort, she still focused on the way his brows knit together in thought, and the way his rosy lips puckered out, chapped from the cold and harsh winds.

In her mind, he represented danger. Not the kind of danger she was looking out for in a man, but the kind of danger that seemed to turn off all her sensors. His presence was like the polar opposite of what she was used to. The presence he held was calm, comforting, so intoxicating to her mind.

"How often do you sell those roses?"

Her head snapped toward the direction he was looking.

"Which ones?"

"The purple ones." His eyes seemed to be set on a bush of dark purple roses inside the greenhouse.

"Not very often, I mostly grow them for my own pleasure."

A hum escaped his throat, his eyes not moving even an inch from the dark flowers. "You like them?"

"Do you recall the last time you sold or gave them to someone?"

"I'm not sure. I removed them from the display in the shop not long ago, so probably before then."

"How long ago?"

"Are you interrogating me?"

The sudden change of her tone caused him to finally look away from them, and rather set his eyes on hers. Her gaze seemed to stiffen and her eyebrows furrowed in defense. With another sip of his almost cold coffee, he reached for the phone in his pocket.

"I found this at all of the crime scenes, including the one last night."

A series of pictures of dark petals submerged in a thick red liquid were shown on his phone. Most were just petals, but the one that caught most of Adriana's attention was a bouquet. A sparkly bouquet with dark brown wrapping, words "I miss you" written out in cursive with red ink.

She felt her breath being caught up in her throat. The sight of it sent a painful sensation in her gut, almost like a sharp knife piercing through her. Her vision got blurry as a wave of tears threatened to fall onto the lit-up screen. "No, no, I—"

"I'm not saying that you're the culprit, I just want to know if you recall who you sold these to last." His voice was awfully calm, like trying to calm down a crying child.

Her voice broke as she spoke up. "I made those for my mom last. I took them down after that. I swear to God I'm not the one who did it. I saw those men barely once in my life—"

"You know them?"

She stood still for a second, rewinding her own words, before fully letting the tears slide down her cheeks. To Christopher's surprise, his suspicion of her didn't grow. Instead, his eyes softened at the sight of the girl in front of him. Her cheeks flushed red as her tears fell each second at a more rapid rate, coating her eyelashes with the salty liquid.

"How do you know them?"

He tried to choose his words carefully. He never imagined being in a situation like this with anyone, let alone with her. With every approach he calculated in his mind, he felt like there was nothing he could do to minimize her tears, yet he still tried to soften his voice the best he could.

"I saw them with my dad in meetings sometimes, mostly when I was little. They were all a bunch of scumbags, rich people trying to become richer." Her voice suddenly changed, laced with bitterness.

"Could I perhaps get in contact with your dad or mom then?"

A couple of moments that felt like hours passed before she stood up from her seat, almost knocking down the now cold and unfinished beverage. She slid the glass back door open and entered the store, her heavy and obviously angry footsteps fading away.

He knew he had messed up badly. It was a dumb mistake to pursue this line of questioning alone. He should have brought Changbin with him, someone with more experience. Doing outside work without his boss knowing could easily lead to being fired.

The sound of footsteps grew louder, but he didn't dare to look up, fearing he'd be met with either a slap in the face or with those bright, glossy eyes that tugged at his heartstrings.

"Here is my mom," a voice said.

Chris finally looked up, his eyes widening at the sight before him.

Forever in our memory, Anita Lee. 1979-2022.

"The dad is at the graveyard, search for the name Leon."

-

"Isn't it weird though?" Changbin sat on the edge of the table, eyeing Chris who remained motionless, the only sound in the room the tapping of a pencil on the armrest of Chris's chair.

"Those damn flowers don't grow at this time of year, and she told you herself that she made the bouquet," Changbin continued, frustration creeping into his voice as Chris remained unresponsive.

With a heavy sigh, Changbin slid off the table. "Should I talk to her?"

"No," Chris replied curtly.

"Oh, come on now," Changbin exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Chris knew the aftermath if the word got out within the unit that he had spoken to Adriana privately. Someone was bound to draw a connection between her and the murders, and just the thought of it sent a chill down his spine. Part of him feared it might be possible, but another part, the emotional part, screamed that she couldn't possibly be capable of such acts. She seemed so... harmless.

"A young girl that works at a flower shop kills four men in their own homes with no forced entry, and no murder weapon. You sound stupid, Bin," Chris muttered, rubbing his temples.

"You're the one being stupid, firstly by going to talk to her before informing anybody, and secondly by being so fucking oblivious," Changbin retorted, pacing in circles around Chris's desk.

Chris sighed, realizing Changbin wasn't going to drop the topic easily. Changbin finally stopped pacing and pulled a chair from a nearby desk, positioning it in front of Chris.

"How about this. I don't tell anyone about your little private investigation, and you let me come with you," Changbin proposed, leaning forward with a serious expression.

"No chance," Chris replied firmly.

Without another word, Changbin stormed off towards Hank's office, clearly intent on taking matters into his own hands, or better yet, to force Chris into submission.

Chris scrambled to his feet, hurrying after Changbin. "Wait, hold on."

Changbin stopped abruptly, turning to face Chris with a raised eyebrow.

"I could use the backup," Chris admitted reluctantly.

Changbin smirked at the response he knew he was going to get either way. "I knew you'd surrender so easily.”

-

„Adriana. Adriana what the fuck?“ A loud and terrified voice screamed, but there was nobody in sight.

Silence.

„Adriana please, you're scaring me.“ There it is again, louder this time.

„Lila?“

„Adriana please, put that down.“ Louder. She knows too much.

„Wake up, please.“ Louder. She is going to give us away.

„I beg you, please.“ You have the rose in your bag. Just kill her already.

Silence.

„What the absolute fuck is wrong with you?“ A voice screamed, as the scene in front finally cleared.

Lila stood in front of her, a completley unreadable expression plastered on her face. It was like a mix of terror and relief in one. She looked around. Lila's kitchen?

„What the fuck?“

„Yeah, what the fuck is right. Put that shit down.“

Only when Lila grabed the object from her hand, she realised what she was holding.

„When the fuck did you get the idea to sleepwalk into my fucking kitchen and start banging your head, with a fucking knife in your hand?“ Lila's screams got louder than before, clearly fear masked by anger overcoming her senses.

She opened her mouth to say a word, but nothing came out. Absoutley nothing. The only thing she could do is cry. She doesn't even know why she was crying, or how she got there in the first place, but the tears rolled down like a waterfall.

„I'm so sorry,“ Were the only words Adriana said through tears before she stormed out of the apartment.

-

This was his second pack of the day. Actually, maybe even third. He couldn't be bothered to count at this point. With the flick of the lighter he inhaled the deadly smoke once more.

Thankfully the weather was calm tonight, maybe too calm for his liking.

With the year being over, the department had an annual meeting about how everyone was progressing in their path, or in other words, public bullying. At least it seemed like that to Chris.

After an underwhelming review that Hank announced to the whole department about Chris, he decided to try to get his mind off of things with a short walk. That short walk turned into a two-hour sitting session by the sea with a pack of cigarettes and two bottles of cheap beer. He thought of inviting Changbin, but by the end of the meeting he figured he would rather let him celebrate with his girlfriend rather than drink his boredom away with him; after all, the other cases Changbin had been assigned to, other than the ones with him, had been successful.

They did find some information, but nothing significant to the case, but more about Adriana's father. They decided to snoop around and ended up finding some news articles about her dad. He was a highly respected man, a business owner. Neither Adriana nor her mother were mentioned anywhere in the articles, but a weird piece of information did get noticed. Supposedly, he died at the start of last year, and by the looks of it, nobody knows how. There were no signs of struggle on his body, and no culprit in mind. In the pictures of the funeral, there were no family members, or in other words, no Adriana. The articles suspected it might have been either an alcohol or drug overdose.

Nothing about her mother was found either, and despite Chris's attempts to gather Adriana's phone number from the records, she was never picking up his calls.

He came to a point where he didn't even know what he was searching for. Was it information to catch the killer, or to frame Adriana? Probably not the second one. Firstly, he didn't want to think about that even being a possibility, and secondly, it was absurd to think a flower from the local and only flower shop in town would automatically make the owner the killer. As sure as Changbin was that something might be up with her, to Chris all he heard from him was nonsense.

He took a sip of his beer, deciding to focus on the sound of crashing waves rather than the shit his mind was trying to come up with.

Taking a deep breath, he scouted the beach. The moonlight above made the sand light up like thousands of diamonds. Furthering his gaze, he caught a glimpse of a silhouette sitting on a bench, a couple of meters away from where he was laying on the sand. The light breeze combed the silhouette's hair as the moonlight drew lines of their nose and chin. She looked like a painting from that far away.

The silhouette's hands made their way to her face, seemingly to wipe something off. Tears, perhaps.

She stayed still for a moment—a moment that felt like days—before catching her face in her hands and bursting into tears. The sobs wouldn't be so loud if it wasn't the dead of night, and awfully quiet to begin with.

He decided he would rather leave her alone, figuring his presence would just be a bigger burden for the girl. That was until her voice managed to say something in between sobs. Hold on.

„Adriana?“

She didn't seem to stop crying, but she lifted her head towards the voice. A familiar feeling of shame washed over her once she realized whose eyes she had met. The shame that always manifested itself when she was crying in front of someone.

„You alright?“

It was a stupid question. Of course she wasn't. She was choking on her own tears, for fuck's sake. He decided to get up, step by step coming closer to her. The only thing she could reply with was her head shaking no.

„I get that we're not friends or anything, but you can tell me if you want.“

He was now sitting next to her, closer than usual.

Keep your mouth shut

With a sniff and a wipe of her tears, she cleared her throat. „It's just my mom.“

She didn't understand why she was saying that. Maybe deep down inside, she thought he would view her differently, maybe even as crazy. Even if she really wanted to, she couldn't form the words to explain to him what had just actually happened. It was like something was screaming at her, threatening.

„You miss her?“

She didn't answer, but rather burst into tears once more. Not because they were mentioning her mother, but because she couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth.

He felt his heart shatter at the sight of her. He couldn't shake the urge to reach out for her cheek, to wipe away the tears that escaped her light eyes. Maybe that was crossing the line. Maybe this wasn't the right time. He could potentially make the situation even worse. He quickly pulled back the hand that had started to reach for her tears.

Her head started to pound. She couldn't understand her behavior, and it made her want to scream at the top of her lungs. His presence was so calming, but her mind was like a storm. She really had hoped he could be someone she would let her walls fall down for, the one that would know her more than anyone, even Lila.

„Yeah, I miss her, a lot,“ she croaked out.

His eyes stayed focused on her, watching how her chest moved, how she wiped her cheek every now and then, and how her gaze never left the scene in front to look at him.

„Come with me.“ He extended his hand for her to take. Finally taking her gaze off the ocean, she looked up at him. She tried to focus on his features through her blurry vision, how his dark hair perfectly complemented his pale complexion, how his eyes creased at the corners, and how his lips curved slightly upwards.

Soon, her soft fingertips made contact with his. He pulled her up from the bench with a light tug.

Maybe it was an act of loneliness from both sides, or maybe it was that they found peace in each other, but for the whole walk across the beach, neither one of them disconnected their hands from one another's.

-

Chris led Adriana to a secluded spot above the beach, almost like a cliffside that looked over the shore. The place was well hidden behind some trees, and it seemed quite tricky to get to, but he managed to help her climb all the slippery and stern pathways.

The place itself was made of smooth, weathered rocks, their surfaces polished by years of relentless waves and wind. They formed a natural seat, comfortably wide and just the right height to sit on and dangle your feet above the beach. Patches of moss and tiny, tenacious plants clung to the crevices, adding a touch of green to the grey stone.

Empty bottles were scattered around them, remains of past visitors who had discovered this hidden gem, and also the remains of their own. The only noises heard were their own laughter, mingling with the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore below.

Chris opened another beer and handed it to Adriana, who took it with a tipsy smile. "Cheers," he said, clinking his bottle gently against hers. The moonlight above made the moment feel almost surreal, casting a silvery glow over everything.

Adriana took a sip and sighed, her shoulders relaxing a little. "How did you even find this place? I feel like I should deserve a medal for even climbing all the way here."

Chris shrugged, looking out at the vast expanse of the ocean. "Needed a place to clear my head one day so I wandered around and stumbled upon it."

She nodded, staring at the horizon. "It's peaceful up here."

For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the weight of their own respective burdens momentarily lifted. The tranquility of the place seemed to work its magic, easing the tension that had gripped Adriana's heart.

Chris glanced at her, his gaze softening. "You know, I don't wanna push your buttons or anything, but why aren't your dad and mom buried together?"

Adriana's eyes didn't well up with tears this time. It took her a moment to form her words, but that only made the boy's body tense up.

"My dad was an asshole."

He stayed still at her words, not wanting to disturb her train of thought.

"He was pretty, let's just say, agressive-" She took a deep breath before continuing. "He killed my mom in a burst of anger."

There it was again, that heavy, unsettling atmosphere. The train of words suddenly woke up Chris's tipsy mind, making him feel like he just got slapped in the face with a cold wet towel. "I, I'm so sorry for asking."

"Chris, it's fine. I'm coping, see?" She tried to crack out a smile while picking up the half-drunk bottle of beer, wiggling it in front of his face.

As she put the bottle back down in its place, she kept her eyes to it while carefully placing it down, "He got home drunk one night after going out with his business partners for a few drinks, some were the ones that got killed not long ago. He got mad at my mother for some stupid fucking reason and slashed her throat with a pair of kitchen scissors."

Chris felt a wave of nausea mixed with sorrow wash over him. It was his job to listen and see these kinds of situations, but now that she was there in front of him talking about her own family, it felt like a completely different situation. It's like his professional part of the brain that was supposed to be intrigued by those stories got turned off, and replaced with pure sorrow. "Jesus, Adriana... that's..."

"Yeah," she interrupted, her voice steady despite the heaviness of her words. "He never got to pay for his actions, well, he did pay with his money. He bribed the police, there was nothing I could do about it."

Chris didn't know what to say. The weight of her story hung in the air between them. He wanted to comfort her, to say something that would make it better, but he knew there were no words that could heal those wounds. Instead, he just squeezed her hand gently.

Adriana looked at him, a stern expression still glued to her face, despite feeling her jaw relax by the sudden contact. "I guess someone took the situation into their own hands, one day I just got a phone call that he died, I don't even know how. I couldn't really be bothered to give a fuck either."

Chris stared at her, his mind racing. He wondered if her father's death was linked to the recent murders. There were too many coincidences, too many connections. "Do you think... do you think the same person who killed your dad might be involved in these recent murders?"

Adriana shook her head, her eyes distant. "I don't know, Chris. Maybe. But whoever it was, they did me a favor."

He nodded in response, emptying out his sixth bottle of the night. "Did he hurt you?"

"That night? No. But he did do some things when I was little." She felt the words come out so naturally. It wasn’t usual for her to talk about what she went through with her father, but the mix of booze and quietness made her speak before she could think, yet still managing to avoid bringing up the reason that resulted in them sitting together like this.

The boy’s ears perked up. Like a bullet his head shot towards her, eyes widened like an owl. “No fucking way-„

You're giving us away

A searing pain stabbed through Adriana's head like a hot needle, causing her to cry out and clutch her head in agony. Panic started spreading through her body like venom, distorting her vision and making her ears ring. The world around her spun uncontrollably.

"Adriana!" Chris exclaimed, his voice filled with concern and urgency. He knelt beside her, gently trying to support her as she trembled in pain. "Adriana, what's happening? Talk to me."

Get away from him

Adriana's mind felt like a chaotic storm, every step pounding in rhythm with the searing pain that lanced through her head. Despite Chris's desperate calls, she couldn't stay still. Her body moved on its own accord, driven by a force she couldn't name.

Chris watched in shock as Adriana bolted away from him, her figure disappearing into the darkness between the trees. "Adriana, wait!" he shouted, scrambling to his feet and running after her. It was like a demon possessed her. Did he once again step over the line he swore he would not cross again?

He followed the path she had taken, his heart pounding with worry and confusion. "Adriana, please," he called out again, hoping she would hear him, hoping she would stop.

Despite his efforts, she was long gone.

“Shit.”

His fingertips found their way to tug at the strands of his brown locks. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? His slow steps brought him back to the scattered bottles.

A tiny purse laid on the cold ground, the ground where Adriana was sitting just minutes before something took over her.

[all-things-fic]

With This Ring

A/N: Thank you to everyone for bearing with my through my severe writing drought. It was a bizarre one. Praise Gucci and Harry Styles for their love of striped t-shirts, dreamy photoshoots and photo booth pictures that we all wish we had actual copies of to slip in the backs of our purses to have some graciously point out in the local shop how handsome our boyfriend is.

If you haven’t cottoned on I’m talking about the Harry photo booth pictures that came for all our throats. Without furher ado, here it is. Wedding!Harry, in Italy. All 12k of it. Flirtatious and every inch the delectable fiancé and husband we all know he’s going to be.

Massive shoutout to my girl @waitingfortwilight for her beta-ing. Spacing is going to be an issue so I apologise in advance!

We can unhit the pause button now. Loads of love xx

***

The way you aimlessly strolled down the winding alleys of Florence, giggling at how your fiance swung your hands gently between the two of you was sickly sweet. You knew you were smug, just as much as he was today. Two days away from the best day of your lives and enjoying the way you took in the build up, together. Harry’s light cream loafers tapped gently against the cobbles beneath your feet as he walked heavy-footed against the incline of the pathway and chewed tightly on his chewing gum. He looked every inch the attractive man, in love and ready to get married, as he was. You revelled in watching him, his side profile and jawline that sometimes would become soft as he’d put his head down while you walked; feeling your eyes admiring him.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been doing the same with you. Returning the favour was the least you could do. The minute he changed the direction you were walking in, you knew he had spotted something. Harry’s entire demeanour since you had arrived in Florence had been slow. Well, slow for him. While there had still been a slight edge to his movements, from excitement and nervousness as the days went by and brought you closer to your big day, he had never once faltered in his activated holiday mode. Slightly dazed from the change, you could feel Harry’s eagerness radiating somewhat boyishly off him. This was only confirmed when he spun around to look at you, motioning that he wanted to take your other hand in his free one. Even behind his sunglasses you knew his eyes were shining, the way the left side of his mouth sloped upwards to give you that toe-curling smirk and continued to showcase the sickeningly attractive dimple that you knew got him out of any form of trouble he found himself in the classroom both as a child and a teenager. “Fancy a go?” he nudged his head back, when you felt his feet beginning to slow. Frowning, you allowed your eyes to take in your surroundings, them moving to look over his head at the photo booth that sat disheveled in the tiny side street encased in the hustle and bustle of two more prominent roads. “Did you know this was here?” your question was flat with a raised eyebrow, already knowing the answer. His lips twitched, loving how sometimes he was just that easy to read and you were just that easy to get a rise out of. The thing with Harry was, he loved a photo booth. One of the first sets of pictures the two of you ever had together were photo booth pictures from Shoreditch House. That group of four pictures still sat stuck, with a really tacky magnet from New Brighton Beach, to the fridge of the Hampstead home.

“Might’ve done.”

The confidence that oozed out of his being warmed you as you watched the way his jaw flexed with each chew of his gum. He raised his eyebrows at you when he didn’t get a response, only for you to pull your hands free from his and walk slightly ahead of him. You admired the old photo booth that held a sign that you knew lit up at night, block capital letters in black font prominent against a white background. “Foto automatica,” you mumbled under your breath, letting your eyes roam over the fake wooden effect, lino-type material that encased the outside, and the curtain - which you could only describe as musky-looking - that covered up the booth area itself. An information sheet sat next to the booth curtain which detailed all the different types of reasons why someone may have their photograph taken there. Harry ran his finger over the first word and spoke, as fluently as possible for a Northern English lad with two glasses of champagne in his system on no food since midday, “Fidanzati.” He took his finger and pointed to himself, “Boyfriend.” “Don’t see one of ‘em around,” you smirked, feeling him pull you against him lightly. Resting against his side, you watched the way Harry pushed his sunglasses up into his hair as a way to get his hair out of his eyes, but to allow him to read the writing easier. You admired how there was slight squint to his eyes from the bright, natural light, compared to shield behind his sunglasses, and the way his mouth moved slightly as he breathily spoke each word that was listed as to the type of person who may occupy the photo booth. “I think the word you’re looking for is fidanzato,” you rubbed your hand gently against his chest and watched the way a small frown fell between his brows. “‘S not on there,” he mumbled, free hand now picking at his bottom lip in thought. “That’s a shame, it’s not for people like us to use after all then,” you tried to break out of under his arm, but suddenly it felt very heavy against your shoulders as he held you to him. You whined when he started to laugh, enjoying the way you were trying to get out of having your picture taken at all costs. Talking deeply, Harry mumbled, “Where’d you think you’re goin’?” Head tilted back, you pouted as you wrapped your arms around his waist and looked up at him. Harry, knowing you weren’t about to go anywhere just from the way you had clasped your hands together behind his back, used his hands to push your sunglasses up into your hair. The soft smile that graced his face when his eyes came into contact with yours was one filled with a love that only a man who was about to get married in two days would hold. “Don’t make me have my picture taken, H,” you whispered, feeling your bottom lip protrude slightly more than usual. Your eyes closed when you felt his lips press against your forehead, a soft rumble of a laugh breaking out from his lips. “Come on,” he coaxed, “‘S only two euros a go, think I can stretch to tha’.” His muffled voice caused you lightly slap him on his chest as he continued to chuckle. “‘S not nice,” he frowned, his hand slapping and patting down the pockets of his trousers but coming up short; having forgotten how he had handed his wallet over to you before you had left the villa. “You’re suggesting I’m only worth two euros.” “Never said tha’,” he looked at you, a little bit of uncertainty behind his eyes because where had he put his fucking wallet? “You said that, not me. Won’t be able to stretch to nothin’ ‘f I can’t find m’fuckin’ wallet.” Pulling away from him you unzipped at the front of your Gucci Marmont crossbody bag and held the item he was looking for up in the air, between your fingers. With a small smile, you raised your eyebrows over at him, wanting him to come and take it off you in one way or another. “No wonder you’re confident, got access to m’bank account like tha’,” he joked, as he saw the way your mouth fell at his comment. He reached for you again, feeling the stubbornness hit your body as you planted your legs so he couldn’t easily pull you to him again. “Darlin’-” “I’ve got the power right here,” you responded, shaking the black leather item that jingled slightly from the small amount of change Harry liked to carry when he was in another country. He hummed in agreement, “You have no idea.” Harry stared at you for a while before he broke the silence with a small nudge of his head again towards the photo booth and a, “Come an’ have a picture wi’me.”

“Was thinking of going in by myself-”

He gwaffed at that, causing you to throw his wallet at him full pelt, trying to hide your smile as you watched the way he scrambled to catch it before it fell to the floor. Hand pressed to your lips, you saw the way his eyes were alight when they looked back at you.

Raised eyebrows he asked, “Was that really necessary?”

“You laughed at me-”

“You just said, you didn’t want to have your picture taken. Now you’re shunning your husband-to-be because you want to go in by yourself!”

Harry was incredulous as he responded, completely amused by the chopping and changing over your decision making.

“Now whos being dramatic, ‘shunning your husband-to-be’,” you mimicked him, watching as he rolled his eyes in a jokey manner and threw his arms out.

Palms now facing you, he held them up in mock defence against his chest. “Go on then,” he nudged his head. 

Eyes squinting as they looked back at him, you turned so that your back was facing Harry now and took in the grubby inside of the photo booth before you fully stepped inside. “After you,” he dropped his tone of voice, hand slowly sliding over your back and down to your arse cheek. He tapped it lightly a couple of times, urging you to step forward into the photo booth. “Ladies first an’ all tha’-” With a squeal, you pulled the brown curtain across and stepped into the tiny space, spinning to turn to look at your fiance as you abruptly pulled the curtain to cover his view. You could hear Harry’s boisterous laugh from over the other side of the fabric from your actions. Not long after he spoke, “I’ll just wait here then, shall I?” “No peeking,” you shouted in response through the curtain as you set about unbuttoning the top of your dusky pink chiffon blouse, biting your bottom lip as you looked up at the camera just in time to see the screen turn to the number one and take the first photo of your four.  As a smirk danced over your lips, you moved your hair in one swoop over your left shoulder and quickly enjoyed the powerful feeling that guided you to do something so out of the ordinary for you. With the fabric of your blouse now unbuttoned and slack against your chest, your nude lace bra was easily on show, as you keep your eyes down looking at your heaving chest and heard the shutter sound of the photo booth letting you know the second photo had been taken. Looking back up at yourself, you noticed the fely light flush that had graced your skin as you licked your lips and toyed with yourself within the ten second delay before the third picture. How were you going to make this sexy? Closing your eyes, your breathed deeply through your nose and arched your back, reaching for the bra cup of Harry’s favourite boob of yours and pulled the item taut so it sat underneath the part of your anatomy that Harry so many times described as perfect. It was almost like he was there with you as you thought about the many times he would growl playfully against the flesh of your boobs, begging you to let him fuck them between passionate sucks and licks from his unapologetically, filthy mouth.   Boob free, nipple hard the camera captured you for a final time just as you pinched your nipple softly between your forefinger and thumb at the thought of him having his way with you so roughly sometime soon - maybe not soon enough - head tilted back gently and bottom lip capture between you top teeth. You lightly sighed, a soft gasp leaving your throat as you cupped and squeezed your boob and slowly lifted your dipped head up to take a look at the four images that were presenting themselves to you. A message written in Italian was displayed next to the images that you couldn’t draw your eyes away from, something about wanting you to confirm that you were happy with the images that you had taken. Shaking your head, you chose not to respond as you quickly sorted out your bra, tucking yourself back inside and letting your shaking fingers - from adrenaline - quickly button you back up again. Coughing lightly and swallowing harshly, you lifted your hand up to accept that you were happy with the pictures and through the glass of the booth sorted out your hair and prayed that the soft glow of your eyes and cheeks wouldn’t give away your naughty antics inside the small place that was only growing hotter to you with each passing second. Standing, you pulled the curtain across to leave the booth. Harry’s eyes snapped on you from where he had been admiring the grungy architecture around you and continued to stand a couple of metres away. You found yourself smiling at him softly, the way he had his arms crossed gently against his slightly rounded stomach, hands beginning to tuck into his armpits. With a soft frown, you wondered why he was so far away since he was last around he was practically breathing down your neck as you slid the curtain closed. Stepping down, out of the booth and onto the cobbles beneath your sandal covered feet, you looked down into the section of the booth where you were to collect your images at the strip of four photographs waiting for you to retrieve. As you did so, you quickly opened up your bag and shoved them lightly into the leather item, eyes turning to the left just in time to see Harry walking towards you with his hands now behind his back. His gaze was mischievous, and slightly suspicious from your rushed actions, as he let his eyes run over you, dropping down to your hands that were quickly trying to blindly zip up your bag as you looked back at him. “What?” you asked, voice a little trembly as you licked your lips and thought about how you needed to reapply your lip balm once he was inside the booth himself. Harry’s right hand swung from behind his back with ease, a two euro coin pinched between his forefinger, middle finger and thumb quite tightly. Your eyes moved to focus on his fingers, his nails impeccably clean even if they had housed nail polish at the beginning of your holiday. Coin glistening in the sun, you dragged your eyes back to his familiar green pair and saw the way they sparkled with his next words. “My turn,” he raised his eyebrows, so slight you almost didn’t catch it, before he breezed by you with a comically delivered, “Squeeze me, squeeze me” as he tried to excuse you so he can get into the booth. Playfully rolling your eyes at the way he has tried to use the variant of ‘excuse me’, you mumbled under your breath, “Don’t give up the day job.” 

“Oi, I heard tha’,” he chastised from behind the curtain, his tone amused as you heard him shuffling about with the stool to make it lower so his head wasn’t out of the frame. Your lips quirked at the thought of some joke you would whisper to him later as you sat in his lap on your balcony about how big his head was. 

Before you could stop yourself, not that you would anyway, you let your fingers curl around the side of the curtain, light-heartedly threatening to pull it open, as you began to jerk the fabric. 

The fabric was abruptly snatched out of your hand, firmly pressed by much larger digits to the side of the photo booth machine to hide any sort of a glimpse you may get of the action behind it. Harry’s voice sounded not long after, “Get out of it.” 

Biting your bottom lip, you shook your head as he mocked you by repeating your words of “no peeking” and stepped back from the booth. “Carry on then,” you jibed.

“I will,” he shot back, without missing a beat. Sometimes it annoyed you when we was so on the pulse like this, but your back and forth flirtatious banter was one of the reasons you had kept him around for so long and were planning on making it forever. 

Stepping down the small curb, you tilted your head back and took in the slightly rougher surroundings you found yourself in. If you really zoned in you could just about make out the sound of an Italian matriarch chastising her husband with fast paced language that alternated between fluent Italian and English. 

Enjoying the bustle around you, you dug into your bag and reached for your lip balm, running your finger easily against your lips and rolling them together as you kept your eyes on the booth. You shook your hand at the way you could see Harry’s feet from underneath the curtain, the light wind somehow managing to rustle his flared grey trousers that he pretty much lived in. 

Your mind wandered to his reaction at the photography that was hidden in your bag. Part of you finding some sort of exhilaration within your anxiety at what had happened just moments ago. 

Before you could get too lost in your thoughts, you noticed the way his feet, which had previously been wound around the leg of the stool, planted themselves flat to the floor as he stood to his full height. 

When Harry opened the curtain of the booth - not before popping his head out from behind the fabric first - he came swinging out with a smile that radiated the look of a naughty school boy once more. He raised his eyebrows at you as he lunged to snatch at his photos, even though you weren’t in any rush to take them from him or to get much closer. 

Approaching you, you turned your back to him and smiled to yourself when you saw the way he dangled the photo booth strip of pictures in front of you and presented you with four images of himself in black and white. 

“Last pictures of me as free man them, love,” he hummed, letting his arm fall heavily across your chest as he wrapped himself around you from behind and he knew you had a grip of the photos. 

You both began to waddle in your walk as he chuckled into your neck, catching a glimpse of your face as you took in the pictures of him. He felt the way your jaw dropped slightly, a little offended even if only joking. 

“I’ve had your arse on lockdown long before this weekend, Styles,” you had chosen to correct him with a self-righteous indignation that showed you were absolutely certain, completely unfounded, in how you were totally correct in your knowledge of just how much of a fool he was for you and had been the minute he clapped eyes on you. 

“S’tha so?” he jibed, lips twitching against your skin. “Let me see yours.” 

“They’re not for now, they’re for later-

You felt the way he frowned against the side of your face, lips a bit pouty before he jarred his neck backwards. He was quick to notice the blush creeping up your chest, neck and cheeks. “What ‘ave you done-” 

“Nothing,” you were quick to try and deter his thoughts away, eyes remaining on the photographs of your - let’s get it straight - incredibly fit husband-to-be. His stare was strong against your profile but you refused to look him in the eye, admiring his face and the puppy dog eyes that he had chosen to give to the camera just for you.  

From the four you had a clear favourite. For now anyway. You were sure it would change after you had obsessively ogled them more and more as the day went on. The one with his fingers resting gently against his lips, dopey-eyed and with fluffed hair that begged to be tamed instantaneously captivated you as you slowly blinked, drawn in by his vacant stare.

“Alright,” you breathed, giving in and feeling the way Harry halted the both of you. 

“Alright?” he questioned.

“You can see ‘em.” 

For some reason you blew out a nervous breath, the strip of picture Harry had given you slipping between your index finger and middle finger as you dropped your eyes and opened your bag to pull out your strip of photos. 

“Promise not to laugh.”

“You’re being silly,” he started, hand sliding into the dip where your neck and shoulder met. His clammy palm gave him away, his thumb stroking the back of your neck as he stayed still with his chest against your back. “No reason for me to laugh, you’re bloody wonderful.” 

“‘M not very good at being sexy-”

He scoffed, dropping his lips to the back of your neck, “Think tha’s up to m’to decide, don’t you?”

Lifting the images up, you didn’t give him a chance to glance at them before they were pressed to the bare skin of your chest. You dropped your head back against his shoulder, as he turned his face into yours and pressed his lips to your cheek again. 

“Give ‘em to me,” he whispered, gruffly. “Go on, doll.” 

His voice warmed you as his hands slid lower and squeezed your hips. From your periphery you could just about make out how he licked his lips as he saw you peel the photos, quite literally, away from your blazing skin that held a light film of sweat. 

Nostrils flared, Harry’s mouth parted slightly at the visuals you slowly revealed to him. It didn’t go unnoticed to him how you had your thumb strategically covering the last image. Reaching forward he tugged at the top of the photostrip, fighting his smile when he felt you tug back just once.

“Stop bein’ difficult,” he begged with deep command. 

Your thumb finally gave way, letting him take hold of the photos for himself. He stayed close to you as he did so, his chest heaving heavily into your back as he breathed out, “You naughty girl. That’s indecent exposure that is-” 

“I was behind a curtain, calm down.”

You watched the way he kept his eyes down onto the images, his thumb stroking over each of them separately. Glancing at him over your shoulder, his eyes admired you in a tender way, lifting his gaze to look over at you when you said, “They’re for tomorrow night.” 

“Why?” he questioned, tilting his head slightly as you turned around in his hold and cuddled close to him.

“Don’t know.” 

You felt yourself getting coy with the man who was about to become your husband in less than seventy-two hours. You knew it was entirely unnecessary but somehow underneath the warm sunshine, the alcohol within your veins had now ebbed away compared to the minutes prior, leaving you with the liquid confidence that gave you the conviction to freely do anything you could ever wish to do. 

“Maybe if you needed to-” you choked, cutting yourself off. 

Bringing you close to him, he let his lips rest against your temple as he spoke, “You took a dirty picture for me in case I wanted to ‘ave a wank the night before our wedding, ‘s tha’ wha’ you’re tryin’ to tell me?” 

You hummed, closing your eyes at the feel of his warm breath against your skin as he groused, “You’re gon’a be m’wife-” the lower register tone he had adopted caused you to melt into him. “‘M gonna shag you so good on Sunday.” 

“Just Sunday?” you teased.

“Fo’ the rest of m’life-“

“Sounds better,” you lightly hummed, lips curling into the softest smile as he nudged his mouth closer to yours and melded your lips with his. “Like ‘em?” 

“Love ‘em, can’t wait for ‘em to get a bit rough around the edges and creased from the way I’ll desperately grab for ‘em all the time when ‘m on the road.”  

*** Your wedding party was small, the way you both wanted it. The fact only became more apparent at the wedding rehearsal and drinks that evening. It didn’t take anything away from the atmosphere that was woven with a type of love and happiness that was sickly sweet but every bit welcomed. 

Sat in the gardens that accompanied the beautiful villa that you had chosen to hold your wedding, you were a state of relaxed that caused you to softly smile at nothing. You delicately stroked the stem of your champagne flute as you lifted your hand to shield your eyes from the sun, which was dipping behind the trees, to gently look over at Harry. 

His hair moved lightly in the evening breeze, arms folded over his chest in his relaxed stance as he conversed with his oldest friends. He looked every inch as gorgeous today as he did the day you first met him. Probably more so now, if you were being truly honest with yourself. 

His crisp white shirt was unbuttoned, more so than you would like it to be, but you were sure that he’d lost a few buttons since the night had begun so it was hardly his fault. That’s what he’d say anyway, blaming it on the Chianti Classico that Florence was known for. The pair of grey Prada trousers he had chosen to wear worked in his favour, and showed off the gym regime he had undertaken to get himself into the shape he currently was in for your wedding. 

 Lightly shivering in the early Italy evening, you felt a bit exposed in your Michael Lo Sordo silk crepe de chine gown. A half filled flute of champagne occupied your right hand as you walked over to the other side of the dinner table to your soon-to-be husband within the alfresco dining area that had been created for you on the grounds of your wedding venue. 

Harry stood, with an amused expression over his features, as he watched two of his closest friends pissing about by grappling each other as if they were still six years old and animatedly reenacting wrestling they had watched on Saturday morning television. 

Jack had Jonny in a firm headlock by the time you had made yourself known, almost being taken out when Jonny lost his footing as you approached the group and he tried to stand himself to full height.

Harry whistled harshly, “Lads, calm it down will yer-” 

“Wish I hadn’t brought this over with me, it’s getting in the way, “ you whispered more so to yourself, as you hated only having the one arm planted around his waist, as he drew you to him and away from his friends. 

He busied himself brushing your hair over your shoulders, enjoying watching you close your eyes as you felt the fluttering of strands fall down your exposed back.  

“Neck it then,” he smirked, left side of his mouth rising as you looked at him with wide eyes now that you’d opened them.

“Harry Styles,” you chastised, eyebrows raised. 

“Don’t give me tha’”, he pulled you closer to him.

“We’re in a very expensive place-” “Don’t I know it,” he widened his eyes as he spoke before he eyed you. You looked at him for the shortest amount of time before you knocked back the rest of your champagne and held the glass above the top of his head to prove there was none left, before letting him deposit it off to the side for you. 

With your second hand now free, you let it join your first, wrapping around Harry’s back. You clasped your hands together against his shirt and tilted your head back looking up at him. He sighed, dreamily, letting his eyes fall over your sun kissed face that was lightly dusted with freckles.

“Worth it, aren’t I?”

“Every penny,” he responded, pecking your lips quickly. “You’re gonna be my wife in two days time,” the tone he’d opted for was light, breath fanning gently over your lips as he hovered close to you. He was never going to get tired of counting down the days, or saying those words.

You giggled at his obvious observation, “Is that right?”

Nodding, he hummed, “Not planning on running off wi’the best man, are ya?”

“Not my type. First usher, on the other hand, ‘s a bit alright isn’t he?”

He pursed his lips, trying to fight his smile at your goading. With a shake of his head, Harry responded, “‘s enough outta you-” 

Letting your lips break out into a smile, you heard Harry continue, “Stop eyeing up all m’mates.” He looked up from you and back to his friends, feeling your eyes stay on him. Voice a bit louder he added, “Don’t get too close to Jack, he’s already stolen someone from me before-”

Harry laughed as he cut himself off, dodging the flying napkin that had been thrown at him by his friend, batting it away with his forearm and letting it hit the cobbled stone beneath his feet. “Oi, don’t make me change my mind about forgiving you.”

“It was over ten years ago! I know you’re one to hold a grudge, but come the fuck on!” 

“I’m nothing if I’m not consistent,” Harry jibed in return, pulling you closer to him as you pressed your forehead against his jawline and enjoyed the way he rocked the two of you where you stood.   

 Inhaling deeply you took in his worn in cologne and thought about the afternoon that two of you had shared in the middle of Florence. Sliding your hands down his back, you gently cupped at his bum cheeks through the grey trousers, smile deepening when you felt him clench against your hands.

In the back pocket of his trousers, sitting over his right bum cheek, you felt something inside that was folded into a small-ish square. Light frown on your face, you pulled away to look at Harry. “Is that-”

“The topless photos of my soon-to-be wife,” he started, keeping his eyes looking forward onto the party of family and friends. “Might be. Depends who's asking.” 

“You’re terrible-”

“‘M in love, is wha’ I am,” he paused. “But now you know what the reason is if I disappear off to the loo and take too long to come back to you.”

“Maybe opt for a posh wank, wouldn’t want to make a mess of the expensive bathrooms here.” 

The dirty snicker that reverberated through him caused you to press yourself closer, “That’s exactly the reason to not have a posh wank. Leave ‘em something to remember me by.” 

“And here I was thinking you had impeccable manners.” 

The smirk he gave you as he looked down at you caused you to shift thanks to the warmth you felt within you core. “You know I fuckin’ do, say please and thank you at all the righ’ parts for you, don’t I sweetheart?”

***

You weren’t nervous. You knew he was. 

You knew the minute he’d turned, braved a glance at you over his shoulder and saw the dreamy sigh heave its way through his chest. You knew the minute his clammy and trembling hand cupped yours as your Dad passed you over to him. 

You knew, by the way he stumbled over his vows. Licking his lips and clearing his throat before he started the same sentence he had stumbled over previously and delivered it how he wanted to in the first place. With a sense of confidence that expressed just how sure he was of himself in that moment, how sure he was of your relationship and the life you were about to start building together as husband and wife. 

You were so sure of yourself. He could see in the way you smiled at him, the way you squeezed his hand in yours when he had tripped up on the delivery of his vows. The way you cupped the back of his neck when he broke the kiss, not wanting to break away just yet as you rested against him and heard him whisper to you, “We did it, bab. Me and you.”

“Me and you,” you had whispered back. Enjoying the intimate moment that you were sharing regardless of the fifty or so sets of eyes upon you while you did.  

“I’m like a duck,” you broke the soft silence between the two of you as you caught a moment to yourselves. Those four words cut into the thoughts of both yourself and Harry from earlier that afternoon. He stood over the other side of the hallway and watched you with your glass of fizz. Looking down at his shoes, his right hand occupied your bouquet of fresh flowers, his left with a champagne flute of orange juice only. 

He was amused, lips twitching slightly as he furrowed his brow and blinked slowly. “Why a duck?”

“Cool and calm on the surface, but you best believe underneath the water I am kicking like a mad woman.” 

“Lucky for me, or you, I’m into crazy.”

Walking over to him, you reached for the bouquet in his hand and lightly tapped it against the sleeve of his navy suit. He always had a bleeding answer for everything, didn’t he? 

“Steady on, steady, eh, eh up, hey,” he rambled, as you hit him another two times as he tried to dodge your blows. 

“Stuck with me now, ‘s not like you have a choice,” you rolled your eyes, looking down at your bouquet to see if you had caused much damage. Luckily your fresh flowers looked intact, as you sipped at your champagne again. 

“Made m’choice,” he drawled, sauntering over to you after you’d paced back over to your original standing place. “‘M very ‘appy wi’my choice. Punched above m’weight, did well for m’self.” 

You felt you lips pull into the shyest of smiles as you smoothed your hands over the lapels of his dark blue suit. Fingers stroked at the velvet accent that adorned the collar, liking the way it felt against your fingertips.  

“I did alright, I s’pose,” you looked up under your eyelashes at him, watching the way he raised his eyebrows at you before shaking his head. 

The two of you stayed silent as he let his gaze look over your face, eyes dropping down to take in your dress as he pushed his body away from yours to see all of you. He whistled lowly, eyes raking up your body before meeting your eyes again. “Talk me through everythin’-”

“Do you not think we should go and make ourselves known to our guests?” 

“Fuck no,” he hummed, plainly, “‘m enjoying m’wife. They can fuckin’ wait. Let ‘em enjoy the free bar I’ve forked out for-”

“That’s the only reason you paid for it, to distract the guests.”

“Caught me, but it’s working in’it. No-one’s coming looking for us just yet.” 

You laughed down your nose at the abruptness of his voice, his hand cupping around your waist, thumb stroking over the lace of your dress. 

“When I went for my last fitting,” you started, enjoying the way he dropped his eyes again to look at your left hand which was playing with the cufflinks of his shirt. “I was told by Monique herself that my dress was a signature silhouette, embellished with decadent embroidery and a luxurious fabric palette that included duchess satin and mosaic lace to create an air of royalty, depth and dimension. Creating an overall effect that is enchanting and a celebration of romance.”   

Harry’s eyes sparkled at you as you finished what you were saying, a humour induced quirk to his eyebrow, his lips pulled into a tight line before he spluttered out his laugh.  

“Excuse you,” you raised your eyebrows at him, shoving his right shoulder to lightly create some distance between the two of you because of his rudeness. “I thought you of all people would love to hear that sort of drivel. You’re supposed to agree with that sort of thing, not laugh!” 

He blinked, laughing fading into a soft smile. With this dreamy tone, he said, “Now tell me why you really chose it.” 

Scrunching your nose up at him, you sighed, “Two reasons. Cause I knew you’d sigh the way you did when you saw me in it at the end of the altar and,” you paused. “Cause it made me look the slimmest I’ve looked in ages.” 

“How’d I know it would come back to weight,” he hummed, leaning forward to peck your lips. “‘M floored, d’ya kno’ tha’? Don’t know how I’m keeping my hands to m’self, really, don’t know how I’m doin’ it.” 

“You act like you didn’t have a strict work regime in the lead up to this day, don’t talk to me about weight-” 

“You know tha’ was to help build up my stamina more than anything else,” he pulled you closer to him, hands spreading out across your lower back. 

“God knows y’needed it,” you tapped him on the chest in a playfully patronising fashion.

“Nothing like a supportive wife, let me tell ya,” he shook his head as it dropped down. You quickly picked it up with both your hands and pulled his lips to yours. He hummed as you kissed him, “Tha’s more like it.”

“Easily pleased.”

“When it comes to kissing you? Abso-fucking-lutely,” he hummed, cupping your jaw with his own hand and deepening the kiss.

*** 

You swivelled your hips as you dropped down into the white Alfa Romeo Giulia, the heat of the Italian sun graced your skin and left you with the kind of Mediterranean bliss that relaxed your body. Or maybe that was because you had just become a married woman. 

“Out done yourself, Jeff mate,” you heard Harry shout as he hunched his body slightly, getting ready to close your passenger door while he nodded his head to the boot of the car which housed empty cans of different UK beer suppliers, tied on with string and hung out of the back of boot alongside a ‘Just Married’ sign. You shook your head with a laugh, placing your bouquet into your lap and debated whether you should wear your seatbelt or not as Harry made sure you were comfy before shutting the car door. 

He turned his back to you, eyes on his friends and family as he smiled and blew kisses to them, not missing the way his Mum rolled her eyes at his theatrics. 

You leaned your forearm along the top of the door, resting your chin against your skin and smiled as you watched Harry. The way he glowed, and had done all day, was still as mesmerising now in the very late afternoon as it was the minute you first saw him at the end of the aisle. 

He stood there, waving and blowing kisses some more - for what felt like an eternity - causing you to shake your head. 

“Your wife is waiting,” you teased with a slight command, watching the way he slowly turned his head to look at you. He eyed you for a while, enjoying the demanding expression you had chosen to wear. 

“Alright,” he stressed, voice high pitched, tilting his head as he kept eye contact. Knowing that it would kill the illusion, you bit your bottom lip, trying to hide away the smile that you hadn’t been able to take off your lips since the minute you had become Mrs Styles. 

“I’m bloody comin’, didn’t realise you were this impatient, wouldn’t have married yer ‘f I had!” he joked, walking around the back of the car, your friends and family laughing resoundingly at him. 

You didn’t see the way Harry raised his eyebrows at Jeff as he spoke louder so the crowd of guests could hear his response to your comment. He heavily dropped down into the car seat next to you, the gold and silver of the necklaces around his neck bouncing against his golden chest and sunkissed chest hair from underneath the white dress shirt. 

You reached for your bouquet, hitting him lightly on the top of the chest this time, as he fought the smile against his lips from the way he had riled you. “It’s not some fan gathering y’know,” you answered back, rolling your eyes.

Harry, wearing a bemused expression, leaned over the centre console of the car, his arm wrapping around the back of your seat as he did so. Now closer to you, he softly stroked at the underside of your chin, tilting your lips up to his. “I’m basking, darling,” he purred, eyes moving over your face, enjoying the way your lips lopsidedly smiled back at him. 

“Well, bask with me,” you whispered in return, rolling your lips into your mouth and smoothing out what was left of your nude lipstick. 

Humming from the back of his throat, you enjoyed the way his lips enveloped yours and welcomed his tongue into your mouth even if you did think it was a bit much in front of your loved ones. 

“Plenty of time for tha’”, he stressed, leaving a series of sponging pecks against your lips, that had yor giggling and him smiling against the corner of your mouth. “‘M trying to kiss m’wife, ‘f that’s quite alrigh’?” he joked against your cheek, again loudly to try and silence the hollering from your wedding party.

A loud wolf-whistle broke up the laughter, someone shouting something like “get a room if you’re gonna neck on”, as you tilted your head back on your neck with a loud laugh of your own. “Can’t get a minutes peace ‘ere wi’these lot,” he tutted, nudging his nose gently against your skin before leaning back in his seat to fiddle around with the keys that Jeff had left in the ignition having pulled the car around to the front of the building moments earlier for you both. 

Letting his eyes drop to your lap, he saw the way you gently held the stems of your bouquet of flowers. Fingering gently at the light peach petals of the roses he looked up at you,  “Aren’t you meant to throw this?” 

“Who’s gonna catch it? Other day you said Michal wasn’t good enough.”

“Can a guy not joke about when he’s a bit pissed?” 

You watched the way some of the wedding party starting to turn to go inside, Gemma smiling lovingly up at Michal as she wrapped her arm across her middle and turned her gaze back over to both you and her brother. Looking back at Harry for a quick glance, you paused before shouting, “Gemma, catch!” 

The brunette raised her head at the mention of her name, turning to see the way you hauled your flowers into the air. Having already passed comment earlier on in they day about how beautiful they looked, you knew there was no way she would let them fall to the cobbled stone.  You were right in your thoughts as she quickly shot across the driveway and just caught the flowers before they hit the deck. Raising them in the air, she pumped them towards the sky a couple of times, before laughing loudly and shouting, “Love you!” 

Returning the sentiment, you heard Harry shout after you, “Good luck with that, Michal.” 

“Oi you bugger,” Gemma responded, as Harry fired up the engine, obnoxiously revving it causing you to lightly frown over at him.

“Sorry Gem, can’t hear yer,” he cupped gently against his ear with his left hand, your eyes falling to the glistening of his plain, platinum band underneath the sunshine. 

“Stop, be nice,” your soft voice caught his attention over the sound of the engine. His gentle gaze looked at you, reaching over and cupping your face with hand. His thumb softly stroked at your chin, his eyes dropping to your lips as you repeated your words telling him to change his teasing attitude towards Gemma. 

“Thought you were on my team now,” he asked, watching you breathe around a laugh and prepare yourself to respond as he brought his wedding ring up to your line of vision.   

Before you had a chance to speak, a member of your wedding party cut through your moment, “H, we’ve got a free bar going to waste inside so if would ya could just kindly piss off, we could go and enjoy it!”

“Bastards,” he muttered under his breath. “Getting kicked out of m’own wedding.” 

“Our wedding,” you corrected him. “Stop giving it the big ‘un and take me to bed already.”

You saw the way he smirked, leaning over to kiss you again, “What wifey wants, wifey gets.” 

*** 

Harry was determined the minute he pulled the car to a halt outside the secluded house that epitomized everything Italian. His strides were confident as he walked around the sports car, rounded the bonnet and swiftly opened your passenger door. 

He hovered over you in a way that you found attractive, protective and comfortingly domineering, causing you to seductively smile up at him, and under your own admittance flutter your eyelashes in a way that would’ve usually made your roll your eyes. “Are you going to carry me over the threshold?”

“Are you joking?” his facial expression was incredulous. 

Scrunching your nose at him, you shook your head and let it fall back against the headrest. “I’ve taken my shoes off now, don’t think I’d be able to get them back on even if I tried. Could you grab them for me as well?”

“Anything else?” 

“Maybe that shag you’ve been dangling over my head since the minute we landed-”

“The shag I’ve been dangling over your head?” his voice rose a couple of octaves as he prolonged his words, eyes getting wider each time, causing your smile to deepen. 

Both of you looked at each other for a while in silence before Harry turned to peer down into the car footwell. Leaning down, he grabbed at your high heeled sandals and scrutinised them for a short while.

His eyes ran over the sparkling shoe, and for the shortest time, the male within him wondered how much they’d cost. “Do they do these in my size?” 

“Now, that’s something I’d like to see. You’re like bambi when your feet are on the ground so heaven knows how four inches would treat you.” 

“Four inches treats you quite well,” he let his attempt of sexual innuendo hang in the air. You eyed him, peering through hooded eyes at his pleased face, staying silent as he added, “And the rest.” 

“You do talk some shit at times,” you giggled, watching the way he frowned over at you, not amused by your comeback. 

“That’s you not getting a piggyback then,” he raised to his full height, fiddling with the waistband of his trousers and smirked at the way your hand reached up and curled around his open shirt. Tugging lightly, he enjoyed the way you pulled him down to you with a soft purse of your lips, “What?” 

“Please,” you whined in a whisper.  

“Alright,” he sighed, shaking his head due to the way you threw your hands up into the air and clapped quickly at how he had given in. Once you’d revelled in your win for long enough, you wound your arms around Harry’s neck and pulled him to you. 

“Love you-”

“You bloody better do,” he pecked your lips, before he softly murmured the same words back to you. “If I pull my back out doing this, I swear-” he trailed off as he shook his head and thought about how he was going to scoop his arm underneath the mountains of lace. Sure, Monique Ihullier had managed to sell you a story about romance but it wasn’t going to be very romantic when one of you ended up breaking your necks thanks to the reams of fabric that you found yourself tangled in together.

You laughed as you felt him slide his hand underneath what he thought was all the fabric that belong to your dress, for the second time. “Still don’t think you’ve got it all, H.” 

You bit your bottom lip when he muttered under his breath, “Bollocks to this, why is there so much fuckin’ fabric.”

“Sifts out the wheat amongst the chaff in terms of husband material,” you deadpanned. 

“Not another kind of fuckin’ material,” he responded, smiling when he lifted you and you knocked your head back with a loud laugh. “Jesus, darlin’ don’t make this anymore of a challenge fo’ me. Be good to me.”

Humming, you raised your head to meet his eyes that were smiling at you. He jostled you in his hold as he stepped backwards, after landing a weak kick that somehow still managed to close the car door, making sure his grip was tight enough as he slightly panicked when he realised he’d forgotten the shoes. 

“I’ve got ‘em,” you didn’t even need him to confirm the alarm behind his stare. Maybe if he had been concentrating hard enough he would’ve felt the way the item was lightly bouncing against the back of his suit jacket. 

The way he visibly relaxed, made you fall closer to him and cling a bit tighter to try and make it as easy for him as possible. Before Harry turned his body so that he was facing the house, you glanced over his shoulder at the quaint farmhouse built with a warm terracotta brick standing before you with a porch that housed ivy and warm lantern lights. 

“Whatever you do, do not let go of my neck,” Harry warned, tone of voice tight, as he turned the both of you with one smooth motion. Instead you clung tighter to him, lightly scratching at his skin and enjoying the satisfied groan that Harry emitted from your ministrations. 

As the door came into view, you sighed at the situation you found yourself in. The setting screamed Italian hideaway, barely a sound around the two of you, baring Harry’s breathing mixing with yours as you pressed your head close to his and peppered barely there kisses along his jaw. 

“Do you think you’ll be able to get the keys out m’jacket pocket? Left one.” he breathed, turning his head to the side to nudge you to look at him. 

“Hope so,” you lightly laughed, smoothing your hand over his cheek. 

“Me too, otherwise ‘m gonna have to put you down and really don’t want to do that until I see our bed.” 

“Really didn’t think this one through-”

“No, you didn’t,” he shot back, closing his eyes and thanking the gods above when he planted his feet firmly against the floor and felt the way your hand managed to reach the keys with ease. 

“We have lift off,” you smiled, holding the keys in front of his face. Without responding, Harry bent his knees slightly and, around a small squeak, you pushed the key into the lock and opened the door. 

Harry quickly stepped his way over the threshold, relishing the way you fell against him and smiled against his neck. “Can I put you down now?” he whispered. 

“Thought you were taking me to bed? All mouth and no trousers-” 

You laughed as you felt him lift you higher against his body, goaded by your words, hands now with a more sturdy grip against your body. Fingers dipping into the skin of your legs, you noticed the way he started to sweat lightly at his temples from the extra weight, and emitted a strangled breath that made you breathe a little deeper than normal. 

He walked through the single level abode with ease and as your body fell against the bed, you felt it relax despite the pools of fabric that awkwardly bunched against your legs. Harry followed you, hovering over where you lay, deeply humming when you kept his lips to yours. “Let me get the lights, wanna see you properly.” 

“Don’t leave me,” you whispered, “Crawl up me.” 

Pushing up, Harry moved a small amount as he held his body above yours and basked in the way that your eyes stayed on him from where you lay. The warm lighting from the bedside table illuminated Harry’s slightly flushed face, and the indentations of his dimples that were beginning to form as he fought his smile. 

“Getting a good eyeful, Mrs Styles,” he spoke, eyes dropping down to catch the way you blinked sultrily. His hands rested next to your head on the pillow, thumbs swiping softly at your temples, “Have you got your legs open for me under this dress?” 

With a silent nod up at him, you noticed the way he breathed heavily through his nose and asked, “‘Ave you? Gonna help me get inside, doll.” 

Your slightly trembling hands met his much more confident ones as they bunched up at the fabric around your legs, helping to make it bundle around your waist. “You hold it there for me,” he gruffly requested, a small smile gracing his lips as he noted the way you gripped at the lace harder as his eyes scanned your body. 

The cool evening air ran over your much warmer skin when Harry successfully freed your leg. He raised his eyebrows up at you in his triumph, hand soothing against your soft, tanned skin before coming to a halt. “‘S tha’ what I think it is?” 

“What d’ya think it is?” you spoke hushed, feeling the way your chest heaved against the top of your dress and you saw the way his eyes dropped down, before he looked back at you. 

“It’s definitely a garter.”

“Is it-”

The groan that left Harry’s lips as he dropped his forehead against your sternum was almost animalistic, and he used his free hand to gather up as much of the other side of your skirt that he could muster in one go. He made his way so effortlessly down your body, your hands slipping against the top of his suit jacket as he slid down to get a good look at your thighs. 

“Baby,” he whimpered. “What are you doing to me, ‘s comin’ off wi’my teeth tha’ is.” 

“Do it-”

“‘M gonna,” he nosed against your thigh, a shiver rumbling through you at the way his teeth grazed gently against your skin and curled around the silk and elastic that graced your left thigh. 

His wet and warm breath flowing over you, caused you to clawed at the fabric in search of his head, only failing and causing some of the dress to curtain over Harry in the process. He wasn’t phased as he continued on his pursuit to get the item down your leg. Eyes closed, you enjoyed the tickle of the fabric as he nudged it down to the top of your calf and pulled it off the rest of the way with his nimble fingers. 

Item within his grasp, Harry allowed it fall against the linen bedspread beneath you both and nosed his way back up your skin, slowly worshipping you with open mouthed kisses back up your body. “Stop teasing me,” you whined, hands scampering across the mounds of fabric.

Harry’s gruff response sounded far away as you began to focus on the way he cupped at the back of your thighs, “Wha? Like you’ve been doing all weekend, eh?”

“That’s different.”

Muffled, he chuckled against your inner thigh, you tried to fight the shake of your legs as Harry clung to you and slid across your panties without a protest. “How so? Tell me-”

As you started to argue, Harry licked hungrily against your slick core in one motion. His nose buried itself deep into the top of your mound as he instantly sucked at you with a desire that you hadn’t felt in the longest time. A thirst needing to be quenched.  

“No, no, no. At least let me see,” you whimpered, followed by a whispered and begged mantra of, “let me see, let me see, H. God-”

Against your want, more fabric curtained over the top of Harry as the heat created between your thighs almost became unbearable. Almost. Your hands twisted into the sheets beneath you, while his pushed at the backs of your thighs, creating a makeshift tent against your wedding dress to allow him a chance of making it out of this alive. 

But if not, what a way to go, eh?

His mouth circled around your clit, as you breathed heavily, gasps catching between each breath you took. He turned his head, burying his tongue and nose deeper against you, making sure he ate you everywhere. 

 “Talk to me,” he mumbled, voice barely audible as you felt the tease of his fingers against your folds and his heavy pants, screaming at him to take proper respite. 

Your head tipped back due to the slight pressure of his finger tips, slowly feeling your walls give way to him, sinking deeper as you wriggled down against his hand. His lips slanted upwards, lopsidedly, from your eagerness as he bit his bottom lip and moaned softly at the view of your glistening lips. 

The gust of cool air from the way Harry abruptly pulled himself from under your gown, you peered at him as he came into view, reaching for him as tried to move the skirt of your dress up and around your waist once more. 

Cheeks pink, the mixture of Harry’s sweat and your taste, lined his lips as he messily found your mouth. His hand rested against the inside of your thigh as he blindly found you again and wasted no time in sinking his fingers back inside of you. 

Middle finger and third finger rocked gently inside you, curling gently as they got closer to the start of your entrance before sliding back into your wetness to tap tauntingly against to that spongy centre aching to be teased. His mouth hovered over your lips as you forced him away from your to breath, letting your eyes drop down to enjoy the tautness of his suit jacket against his flexed arm. 

“Fuck me, ‘m sweating,” he confessed, his eyes dropped down to your face as he saw the way you dipped your head into the pillow beneath you once more. “You like it like this?” 

His question caused you to loll your head in his direction, blissed out face barely able to make out his concentrated expression as he watched you closely. You swallowed hard, nodding in an almost numb-like state. “Tease me,” you whined, grasping at his neck and pulling him to rest heavier upon you. 

“Yea’?” he faintly hummed as he dropped his forehead against you. “Like this?”

“Mmm,” you nodded against his head, as you dug your nails into his neck, taking advantage of the leverage and the way it allowed him to curl his fingers inside, just the way you liked it. “Slower-”

“Doll,” he gasped, feeling your slickness over his fingers. “Want me fuck you-”

“Tease me,” you whimpered. “Yes.”

“Come on my fingers,” he requested faintly. “Go on, do it.” 

Back arched, an almost pained breath escaped you as you reached down and felt the movement of his hand beneath yours. “‘S me,” he chuckled, “‘m not stoppin’, go on.” 

Eyes glazed, you felt the way your legs began to shake as he slowly dragged his curled fingers in you, as much as he could beneath your hand. Hand pressed firmly against you, he felt the way you opened wider for him and applied pressure to the back of his hand as you needed just a little bit more. “Am I not doin’ it right?” he asked, knowing the answer to his question as you allowed your eyes to roll back into your head. 

“Tha’s it, soak me,” he deeply growled as you let yourself fall under the warmth in the pit of your stomach, not fighting the way it was about to make you shake. “Give it me, all of it-”

“Yes, fuck,” you moaned wetly, body stiff before it fell slack against the bed. Legs, once wide open, slipped almost shut as Harry’s wet fingers stayed tightly curled against you. 

Heavy breathing filled the space between the both of you as you rubbed your thumb over the top of his hand, feeling the way your arousal coated his fingers. “Need you out of this dress,” he mouthed against your lips, as you panted and enjoyed the dead weight of his body next to yours.   

Clambering off you, Harry toed his way out of his shoes and pulled his jacket away from his body, before laying it over the back of the chair in the corner of the room. His shirt, which was barely buttoned to begin with, followed not long after being whipped carelessly across the room. 

He eyed you from the end of the bed, watching the way you blinked down at him and laid content. His hand cupped to his hardening erection through his trousers, a stifled groan leaving his lips as he made light work of unbuttoning the waist and kicking them away. 

Hands tugging at yours, Harry pulled you up to him. “Don’t fall asleep on me,” he whispered, “It’ll be worth it.” 

You weren’t in doubt, but the blissful feeling that oozed through your body had you in a dreamy state that could easily pull you under. “Help me get you out of this,” he asked, hands blindly feeling the buttons as you fell against him. 

He struggled against the dainty clasps, breathing deepening ever so slightly when you reached for his underwear and pulled down the waistband to let them pool at his feet. The backs of your fingers stroked at his lower abdomen as you took in his waiting cock that was in need of some serious attention. 

You giggled, looking up at him when you felt him growl with annoyance at the final buttons of your dress  that just wouldn’t play ball. Mouth against his jawline, you cheekily asked with a slight nip of your teeth, “Are you aching for me?” 

“‘S nearly off, darlin’,” he choked. “Play along. Help me.” 

Looking at him from underneath your eyelashes, you undid the last buttons and felt the way the dress became slack against your body. Silently breathing each other in, you removed your arms from the lace and let the front of the dress fall away from you braless boobs. Harry swallowed harshly, tugging at your waist as his hand curled around your warm and soft skin. 

Without a word, he dipped down and let his mouth lap at your nipples. Hands, which had been itching to glide through his hair, quickly curled against the brown strands and tugged with pleasure. You stepped back, feet tangling in the dress that you had left at your feet as he helped to slowly lay you back down and tugged gently at the only remaining clothing item between the two of you. 

The two of you were barely able to hold a kiss, as he hung above you, anticipation the first feel of him entering you lingering in the air. You tilted your head back, as you saw him drop his eyes to see himself guide his aching cock to your wet and ready entrance. 

“Harry, what are you doing?” you ask, as he taped himself gently against you swallow from arousal private parts. 

From under his brow, he looked up, holding your eye contact with a quiet confidence. “Shagging m’wife.” 

His first thrust was measured. Deliberately deep and drawn out as he slowly took you for the first few moments. Your legs lifted, curling around his back, wanting to feel the power of his thighs and arse as he rocked heavily into you, slapping skin reverberating throughout the room. 

It wasn’t long before he picked up the pace, hand underneath your hips to keep them tilted, just the way you liked it. His breath ragged against your ear, his muffled filth had you moaning quietly in his ear. “And then ‘m just going to keep fucking you, and fucking you, and fucking you-” he paused, teeth gritted, “Taking pictures of these tits, my tits, an’ keepin’ ‘em from me like tha.’” 

You pushed your chest up towards him, his forehead resting against your sternum again as he blabbed around his shortness of breath. “‘S not how it works, ‘s mine.” 

“‘S yours,” you whined against his mouth when he kissed his way back to you, his skin so beautifully painted with flush that highlighted his exertion. 

You swept his damp tendrils away from his forehead, as his face contorted with a passion you had missed seeing. His fingers clung to you, pulling you tightly up towards him as he became heavy with his thrusts. You know he was close as he when became rough around the edges; when he started talking about how much he was going to come. 

“‘S going to be loads,” he gritted out, tailing off into a guttural moan that had you moaning beneath him from the sheer manliness of his confession. 

“‘S dripping out,” you whined, playing along like he had asked of you moments ago, gripping him to you as he heavily pressed his torso to yours and rolled his hips weakly into you a couple of more times, almost making sure that his release stayed inside of you. 

He rolled you with him, both on your sides and willed you to press your clammy forehead into his neck. You sucked against the skin on his collarbone, lapping at the saltiness of his skin and desperately trying to catch your breath. 

“‘S a good fuck,” he murmered, nosing along your hairline, warm breath at the shell of your ear. “‘S a good fuck,” he repeated, weaker and more so for himself than for you. 

*** You yawned around a light laugh at how silly the two of you were being. 

Harry pulled on his wedding suit trousers and you slipped back into your wedding dress. The clock behind you read almost 2am, but he seemed determined to drive the two of you to some place else, desperately trying to hold onto your wedding night. 

“Need your help, H,” you broke his concentration of buttoning up the front of his trousers. Eyes shooting up, he admired what he could see of your bare back in your wedding dress and the way you held the front against your bare chest.   

“‘M comin’,” he mumbled as he walked around from his side of the bed, over to where you stood in front of the free standing mirror of your room. His hands fumbled with the zip that sat at the bottom of the dress, zipping it up as high as he could before he started on the buttons. He lightly smiled when he saw your hand come up before you, your perfectly soft and manicured fingers helping him finish up the buttons. 

As he got closer to the top, he dropped a kiss to the bare skin at the nape of your neck, before it got covered by the lace of the dress, “Thanks for helpin’ me, darlin’.” 

You busied yourself brushing your hair over your left shoulder, watching Harry through the mirror as he offered you his suit jacket to either drape over yourself or wear properly. You chose to push your arms through the sleeves, enjoying the way it smelled of him and engulfed you into a familiar comfort. 

Harry groaned as he sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled his shoes on, his eyes watched you softly as you pushed up the sleeves of his suit jacket that was too big. With a yawn, he dropped his head down to tie the laces of his patent dress shoes. 

Walking closer to him, you played with the hair on the back of his head, offering him comforting scratches to his scalp as he kept it facing downwards, “You sure you’re okay to drive?” “I’m fine,” he lifted his head. “Promise,” he mumbled as your hand ran over his face and he pressed a quick peck to the inside of your hand. “You ready?”

“Yeah, I’ll put these on in the car,” you raised your heels that hung on your middle and forefinger by their ankle strap. He eyed them before he looked at you. 

“How you getting to the car in bare foot?”

“You’ll just have to carry your wife, won’t you?” 

“Not again, not a chance-” 

You pushed him out the door of your suite muttering, “I don’t ask for much.”

“You don’t half!” 

Squinting your eyes again, you decided to let him off this time and opted for walking to the car like a normal person. He opened your door for you once more, helping your gather all the fabric around your legs, to stop it getting caught inside the car door. 

Quickly joining you, Harry wasted no time in starting the engine and rolling out of the driveway and onto the Italian roads. He reached for your hand as he drove, making sure he kept his undivided attention on the other drivers around him but every so often wiggling his fingers that were laced in-between yours.

“Where are you taking us?” you asked, smiling at his dimly lit profile and watching the way he enjoyed your inquisitive nature. 

“S’ not far now, you’ll soon see-”

You didn’t ask another question, enjoying the italian night around you and the lack of cars on the road. The way the architecture looked even prettier in the evening under the warm glow of lanterns and yellow spotlights. 

The minute the side street came into view, with a familiar setting that had graced your eyes just two - well, three days now - prior, you couldn’t help but lightly shake your head. Harry dropped the gears of the car and took caution around the slightly smaller streets, his speed almost slowing you to a halt as he crawled the car down the cobbles. 

Taking a left, you turned your eyes to look at him as he slowed the car and put on the handbrake. You watched him silently as he messed with a couple of dials on the dashboard, turning the engine off and dropping his head back against his headrest.

Feeling your eyes on his, he lolled his head to the side to look at you and smiled sleepily over at you. “‘M getting my photo booth pic of us together, even if it kills me.” 

You scoffed your laugh, as he blinked slowly at you with his creased shirt and hair that reminded you of the second round of sweaty shagging that the two of you had managed to draw out of the other before driving here.

“Humour your husband,” he softly pleaded.

With a slight frown, you reached for his cheek and softly thumbed the corner of how downturned lips. “Didn’t bring any cash out with me-”

Harry didn’t take his eyes off yours, but you gradually saw the way they got lighter as they twinkled underneath the lamps of the street you found yourself sat in. His hand fiddled between the two of you, the sound of coins jangling filling the space and causing you to drop your stare down into the car console. 

Glancing back up at him, you loved just how pleased he looked with himself at how he had stocked the coin tray in the car with as many two euro coins he was able to jam into such a small space. 

“You’re looking mighty pleased with yourself-”

“‘S cause I am,” he smugly responded. “Guess how many pictures are in there?” You shrugged at his question, knowing no doubt he knew the answer. “Loads, ‘s how many.” 

“Really have got an answer for everything, haven’t you?” 

“Think I do alrigh’ for m’self, yeah-” 

Leaning forward you shut him up the best way you knew how, by languidly kissing him and letting him take the lead he wanted after you had initiated. He slowed the use of his tongue, dragging his lips gently against your as he whispered, “Wha’ ‘bout if I get m’tits out this time, what’dya to tha’, darlin’?”

“You’re a married man, Mr Styles,” you started, “Can’t be seen doing things like that now, can you?” 

“‘S wha’ the curtains for, you should know-”

[reclametotem]

Banner Advertising

What is Banner Marketing?

Banner marketing are the little rectangle-shaped advertisements show up on all kind of Web pages and also differ considerably in appearance and also subject, yet they all share a fundamental feature: "if you click them, your Net web browser will take you to the advertiser's Web site."

A bit of HTML code advises an Internet server to bring up a particular Web page when an individual clicks on a particular piece of text. Banner ads are essentially the same thing, except that rather than text, the link is presented as a box having graphics (normally with textual aspects) as well as sometimes computer animation.

Due to its graphic element, a banner advertisement is somewhat similar to a conventional advertisement you would see in a published publication such as a paper or magazine, yet it has the included capability to bring a potential consumer directly to the advertiser's Website. This is something like touching a printed advertisement as well as being quickly teleported to the marketer's shop! A banner ad likewise varies from a print advertisement in its vibrant capability. It remains in one place on a web page, like a magazine ad, however it can offer multiple pictures, consist of computer animation as well as modification look in a number of other methods.

Sorts Of Banner Ads

Like publish advertisements, banner ads can be found in a variety of shapes and sizes. The Net Marketing Bureau (IAB) defines 8 various banner dimensions, according to pixel dimensions. A pixel is the smallest device of shade used to comprise images on a computer system or tv display. The IAB's standard banner dimensions are:

1. 480 X 60 Pixels (Complete Banner).

2. 392 X 72 Pixels (Complete Banner with vertical navigation Bar).

3. 234 X 60 Pixels (Fifty Percent Banner).

4. 120 X 240 Pixels (Vertical Banner).

5. 125 X 125 Pixels (Square button).

6. 125 X 90 Pixels (Switch 1).

7. 125 X 60 Pixels (Switch 2).

8. 88 X 31 Pixels (Micro Switch).

The full banner (468 x 60) is without a doubt one of the most preferred, however you will see all these variations throughout the Internet. These are not the only banner advertisement shapes and sizes, either, but they are a great depiction of the range of usual banner advertisements. There is no universal file-size constraint for banner advertisements, yet the majority of Website enforce their own limits on memory dimension, typically something like 12K to 16K. This is since banner ads include in the complete documents size of the page they show up on; consequently increasing the time it considers a browser to lots that web page.

As you have actually possibly seen while surfing the Web, real graphic content, or creative, differs considerably amongst banner advertisements. The most basic banner advertisements feature just one, fixed GIF or JPEG picture, which is linked to the marketer's home page. More common is the GIF-animated banner advertisement, which presents a number of various photos one by one, occasionally to produce the effect of animated movement. Then there are rich media banner advertisements-- advertisements that utilize audio, video, or Java and also Shockwave shows. These banner advertisements, which generally have bigger data dimensions, are usually interactive beyond their straightforward connecting function.

How to carry out Banner Advertising:.

The designing of a straightforward banner ad is not so hard. For instance to develop a photo for promoting the code resembles this:.

Text to be presented.

Simply put same as an easy link development. Also the computer animated GIF banner ads aren't much more complex. We can likewise make use of a top quality media advertisement. We can make use of specialist assistance for developing advertisements for us. Currently we can obtain a professional banner ad for $50 or you can spend upwards of $1,000.

To make our banner ad much more efficient, we can likewise use the several of adhering to approaches:.

Post banner ads on pages with relevant Web web content-- the more relevant, the much better.

Advertise a particular product and services in your banner, as opposed to your site typically.

If you do market a specific product and services, connect the banner advertisement to that part of your Web site, rather than your home page.

Place banner ads on top of the page, as opposed to farther down.

Use straightforward messages instead of complicated ones.

Usage animated ads as opposed to fixed ones.

Your graphic web content should stimulate site visitor interest, without being as well odd.

Keep banner ad dimension little. If the page takes too long to tons, a lot of site visitors will certainly go on to one more web page. One can also utilize the adhering to 10 ideas to make an ad a lot more reliable:.

1. Research the very best examples online. When creating an innovative piece like a banner ad, beginning by determining the very best banner ads that you have seen.

2. Be clear in your graphics and messaging. Your major goal is to have people take a specific activity after seeing your ad. A strong, clear message will certainly aid capture their rate of interest. Clear communication needs that you comprehend your message, what you are marketing and also the advantage that you are supplying possible consumers.

3. Control the documents dimension. To decrease user frustration, you need to restrict the documents dimension of your advertisement. As a basic rule a 468 x 60 pixel banner need to be 12 kilobytes or much less. The easiest method to achieve this is to restrict the variety of colors you make use of and save your banner as a computer animated GIF data.

4. Say it in seven words or less. This is especially crucial for a banner campaign, where you are restricted to a tiny visual room. Making use of fewer words suggests that you can make the font style size larger, which raises the impact of your message.

5. Use power words. These are solitary words that instantly interact a benefit. "Free," "amazing," "amazing," "budget friendly," "heartwarming"-- a conceptualizing session will certainly assist you create a checklist of words that are perfect for your project.

6. Select pictures very carefully. Including visuals is like cooking with seasonings. Too couple of will lead to a bland banner, while a lot of will certainly ruin the desired impact. If you want to include an appealing visuals, aristocracy cost-free supply digital photography is an affordable option.

7. Usage comparison to catch attention. Your advertisement will likely consist of these aspects: background shades, a vibrant text message, as well as a photo or illustration, and computer animated. To be reliable you require to have contrast between these components. Contrast can be accomplished using different font dimensions and also bolds and shades.

8. Limitation your use typefaces. If you do use two or more font styles make certain to select fonts from different categories. There are 3 major typeface classifications: serif (which have tiny "feet" on the letters), sans serif (without attractive "feet") as well as decorative (that include extremely ornamental and script or handwritten typefaces).

9. Do not overdo it with animation. If you plan to utilize computer animation in your ad, there are a couple of points to consider. You want the computer animation to draw the eye without angering the online visitor. When setting the computer animation rate, try to find something that transforms at a slow to modest pace. It aids to set your animations to ensure that they stop after three cycles; some sites may demand this.

10. Much less actually is extra. As you develop your layout, bear in mind that much less messy messages will certainly make a more powerful impact with the on the internet customer. Limit the variety of components-- the colors, typefaces, graphics and also words-- that you utilize in your advertisement and ask on your own whether your primary message is clear.

Internet site for the Banner Marketing:.

Banner Exchange Programs: These programs provide a straightforward solution. If you post a specific number of banner advertisements on your website, they will publish your banner ad on an additional site. Usually, this isn't an even exchange; you need to publish more than one banner advertisement for every single one of your banner advertisements they upload. This is how the exchange program makes a profit. Their plan produces them extra banner advertisement rooms than actual banner advertisements they require to put for their participants, so they can market the added banner advertisement rooms to paying advertisers.

Buying Advertising Room: We can likewise acquire a banner advertising and marketing space to place our ads and also to do so we can use numerous websites.

Marketing Advertising Room: Marketing banner advertising room is a terrific way to use your website's traffic to generate revenue, but it can be a little bit difficult. The most convenient option is to sign up with a banner ad network, which will hire advertisers, keep track of your revenues, and also control banner advertisement placement on your site. In exchange for these services, the network will certainly take a significant percentage of the marketing cash created by your advertisement space. If your site gets a bargain of web traffic, greater than 100,000 impressions each month, after that you must have the ability to join an excellent banner network's CPM program Spandoeken

How much money might you make via a banner ad network? A lot of networks are offering "run of site" advertisements to advertisers, and also they are getting something like a $5 CPM rate for the advertisements. Then the network takes between 30% and also 50% of the $5 as its cut. Consequently, you might expect to gain something like 0.3 cents per impression that appears on your website, or a $3 CPM price. If your site creates 100,000 impacts per month, you can expect to receive a look for $300 on a monthly basis. If you are getting paid per click, you may get anywhere from 3 cents to 20 cents per click. 5 cents could be a typical standard. If you get a 1% click price as well as you have 100,000 impacts per month, that means that you may expect to receive $50 per month.

[lightwoodsmagic]

This year was the first time I wrote any fanfiction from the One Direction fandom, and I have loved every single stressful, chaotic, emotional second of it.

To everyone who has ever read my fics, given me support, and left me kudos and comments, thank you so, so much. I can’t even explain how much it means it me, and I’m so incredibly grateful.

Here are all the fics I wrote in 2019.

✨💐 The Lone Hydrangea

E • 77k • Harry/Louis • written for @potterdirectionficexchange

“Thank you again,” he smiled at Harry as he picked up the arrangement and headed towards the door, and Harry quickly realised he didn’t know the man’s name.

“I – wait! Sorry, I just...what’s your name?” At the man’s eyebrow raise, Harry stumbled over his words, “It’s just, if you’re coming back, I thought I should…know.”

As the man looked at Harry, his smile only grew, and Harry’s heart thumped in his chest.

“My name’s Louis. Louis Tomlinson, and it was so lovely to meet you,” he shot one final grin in Harry’s direction, “I’ll see you next week, Harry.” And then he was gone.

“It was lovely to meet you too,” Harry whispered to the empty shop, putting his head on the counter, “Louis”.

Or the post Hogwarts AU where Harry's a florist, Louis' a muggle who edits fantasy books, and they both have no say in how quickly they fall for each other.

🌞📸 Finally Their Time

NR • 4k • Harry/Louis

“I can’t believe you’re wearing this and it’s not just at home. We’re going to the Met Gala, Harry, and you’re wearing your wedding ring.”

Harry’s smile grew as his index finger and thumb twisted to play with the matching band on Louis’ left hand. “So are you.”

“Well, it’s kind of a matching set. Wouldn’t want to make you look foolish,” Louis teased. “Are you ready to see me now? ‘M dying to see you, if I’m honest.”

Harry took one last deep breath and squeezed Louis’ hands, dropping then as he took a step back. “Yeah, Lou. I’m ready.”

Or, Harry and Louis attend the Met Gala together, and suddenly the whole world knows.

🍆🥘 Impress Me

NR • 6k • Harry/Louis, side Zayn/Liam • written for @disneydirectionfest

“Everyone can cook, Harry, you just have to be taught by the right person,” Louis said, and Harry watched as he stood up and brushed the dirt off his arse.

“I don’t think you can teach what you just did, though,” Harry replied with a small laugh, grabbing the bowl and standing as well, “seems like more of a natural talent, if ‘m honest.”

Louis laughed, and Harry’s heart thumped in his chest. It was impossible to ignore how attractive Louis was, but he concentrated on listening when Louis spoke again. “Well if I can ever help somehow, let me know.”

“Maybe you can?” Harry said carefully, studying Louis’ facial expressions as he continued, “could you possibly tell me how to fix this?” He waved the bowl in his hand, chuckling when Louis grinned.

Or, Harry's a new chef who can't cook to save himself, but when he meets Louis, he learns more than he thought possible

🧵🛏 This is Somethin’ Real

NR • 6k • Zayn/Liam • written for Wanker’s Day fic fest

Zayn had felt it before, felt the hope and the possibility of something brewing, but where he usually pushed it down, he let it consume him now, let it take over everything until he was swinging his feet and grinning when Niall finally walked through the door.

“Lads!”

“Nialler!” Louis shouted, wrapping him up in a hug.

“How is everyo – woah, why are you so happy?” he asked Zayn, cackling when Zayn kicked out at him.

“He’s going to tell Payno he’s in love with him tonight, that’s why,” Louis explained, and Zayn saw Harry’s nose scrunch as he smiled.

📒 🦴 This Might Tickle

NR • 4k • Harry/Louis • part one of the Uni AU series • written for @wordplayfics

“You could say that. Oh, by the way, green eyes is staring at you again.”

Louis’ head snapped up so quickly his neck cracked, his fingers freezing where they rested against the keys. His eyes flitted quickly around the room before coming to rest somewhere to his left.

There he was, staring directly at Louis with a straw between his lips. The beautiful man that had happened to seemingly appear everywhere Louis had been for all of last semester until chocolate coloured curls contained by soft buns, bright patterned shirts, and green eyes had seemed to follow Louis even as he slept.

Or, Louis' been admiring Harry from afar until they become study partners for their first year anatomy class.

📕🦉 When You Smile

GA • 2k • Zayn/Liam • part two of the Uni AU series • written for @wordplayfics

Liam shifted his body slightly to get more comfortable, angling towards Zayn just in time to see Zayn duck his head down, his hands still outstretched, the shirt covering his bare skin. He could see the curl of his lips from where he was sitting, the beginnings of a smile, and he bolted upright; it was finally happening. Liam was finally going to get to see Zayn Malik smile.

Death in an aviary. Louis would approve.

Or, Liam’s never seen Zayn smile during classes, but a trip to the zoo for their studies helps him see a lot more.

📗🦓 The Doppler Effect

M • 2k • Harry/Louis • part three of the Uni AU series • written for @wordplayfics

“A...zebra?”

Harry sighed heavily, rolling his eyes upwards as he heard Niall chuckle next to him.

“No no, okay, I’ll - the hint again,” he explained, shaking his head and gesturing, his drink spilling behind him. He ignored the sharp cry that sounded afterwards, the muffled curse that followed as someone shook vodka and some kind of juice out of their hair. He leant forward, smiling widely. “Nyoooooooom.” His head travelled quickly from left to right and he giggled at the sound, images of race tracks and cars running through his head.

Okay, maybe he was a little drunk.

Or, there's only one person who figures out Harry's Halloween costume.

📘🎨 A Work of Art

E • 5k • Zayn/Liam • part four of the Uni AU series • written for @wordplayfics

“I’m sorry, I am, but I really have to go. Will I maybe see you around?” His voice was hesitant, but Liam’s mouth shifted into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling again at the corners. The insane part of Zayn’s brain had already decided that he wanted to see that every morning.

“I hope so.” Liam’s voice was just as soft as the curve of his mouth, and Zayn let out an audible sigh as he lifted his hand in an awkward wave and darted down the hallway.

Or, Zayn meets Liam before he realises he’s the life model for his extra credit class.

📙👓 My Favourite Word

NR • 3k • Harry/Louis • part five of the Uni AU series • written for @wordplayfics

“Nah,” Niall replied, typing on his computer and gracefully ignoring Harry’s embarrassment. The grin remained though. “He has a pretty specific...type. You could go help him out, you know. Pretend to be his boyfriend.”

Harry choked on the water he’d just swigged, his face brighter red still when everyone in the library turned to stare at him.

Or, Louis’ ex boyfriend won’t leave him alone, so Harry steps in.

⚡️🔥 Just As Fast, Twice As Dangerous

E • 47k • Zayn/Liam, side Harry/Louis • written for @1dridicficexchange

When he realised it was only him and Liam in the hallway, he felt safe enough to drop his shield.

Oh. Lovely.

Liam was emanating affection and fondness, his primary emotions filled with warmth and love. Zayn let himself bask in it, how it would feel to be loved by Liam. He knew Liam loved him, but he wasn’t in love with him; Zayn had felt that emotion too many times to count, and this just wasn’t it. He dug slightly deeper, could feel that Liam was excited and nervous, and when he hit a wall Liam had built himself, he dropped back. He wasn’t supposed to know everything.

Or, Zayn's a normal student by day, and a superhero by night. When a mysterious man seems to target him at the same time a natural disaster strikes, Zayn has to figure out a way to save the day, protect his heart, and convince the boys he's not a vigilante all at the same time.

🐈 🎭 And That Was That

E • 23k • Harry/Louis, Zayn/Liam, Louis/Zayn, Liam/Harry, Zayn/Liam/Louis/Harry • written for @1dpolyficfest

“Okay. When Zayn and I were working on the set yesterday, Liam dropped by and mentioned he had a date. I asked Zayn about it, and he said that they’re ah - poly?”

Harry blinked.

“Oh yeah, I knew that. Li mentioned it when we were playing tennis once.” He ran his hand through Louis’ hair, smiling softly when he nuzzled into the touch. “Is that what’s making you act strange? Because it seems like something that works for them, and I —.”

“Zayn has feelings for me.” A deep breath, and then blue eyes locked on green. “He said he needs distance because he has to get over them.”

Harry hadn’t realised his hand had fallen from Louis’ face until his fingers were being tangled and gripped tightly.

Or, Zayn and Liam have been polyamorous for years, but Harry and Louis are monogamous. When Zayn meets Louis and starts to fall for him, it opens them all up for something they've never experienced before.

⚽️ 🎶Come In and Change My Life

E • 12k • Harry/Louis, side Zayn/Liam • written for @hlmpregficexchange

He’d had the same neighbours since he’d moved into the building, a lovely, wealthy couple in their late sixties who had always invited him around for tea on Sundays. Martha had dropped off homemade biscuits the day he’d moved in, so Harry figured he may as well repeat the sentiment.

He could hear someone getting closer to the door just as a flush ran through his body; oh fuck. His heat was close, too close to be knocking on a potentially unknown alpha’s door, but it was too late. The door swung open, and Harry’s mouth dropped.

He’d never been overly interested in football, couldn’t find the fascination in watching men run around after a ball for hours aside from their uniforms, but he knew who this was.

Louis Tomlinson, alpha, captain of Manchester United, star in a number of Harry’s heat addled fantasies, was his new next-door neighbour.

Or, Harry and Louis become friends when Harry looks after Louis' cat during away games, until one night at a party changes everything between them. It's just a shame Louis' going to be away for the FIFA World Cup for three months.

🎤 🏳️‍🌈 Something Deep Inside

M • 17k • Harry/Louis, side Zayn/Liam • written for FOUR fic fest

He knew what he needed, and it was a harsh realisation to think that maybe he’d never have it again, that maybe he was about to ruin everything by admitting, live to thousands of people, that they’d been right all along.

Well, almost.

Their fans had gotten a substantial amount correct; the relationships that were faked, the two of them being kept apart by their management for being too close, too affectionate, the social media control and all the stories planted in the papers in their attempts to ruin them. Most of all though, there had been people who had always known that the overwhelming feeling of love, passion, commitment, and home was there all along.

They just hadn’t known it was one sided.

Or, the five times Louis had to hold back his feelings, and the one time he didn't.

A canon divergent story inspired by Fireproof.

💍⛳️ So baby, say you’ll always keep me

T • 9k • Harry/Louis, side Zayn/Liam • written for @28proposalsfest

He took a deep breath, and gripped Harry’s hand.

He wasn’t sure what he expected; an electric shock through his system, all of the clouds parting so the sun could shine down on them, or maybe some kind of confirmation that this was it.

What he got was warmth, a gentle grip, and a slight shiver down his spine. He still knew.

Louis and Harry know that they’re meant for each other. When Harry proposes, Louis doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy until he realises Harry’s ex-boyfriend is only a few tables over, and maybe instead of a marriage, it’s time for a breakup.

🎄 📞 A Not So Silent Night

T • 6k • Zayn/Liam • written for @1dchristmasfest

Liam's had a crush on Zayn for months, every time they talk on the phone just making him grow fonder.

He's just never met him in real life.

When he finally gets to meet him, it turns out that he can't take his eyes off him dancing on the table at the bank's Christmas party.

Especially when he starts taking off his sweater.

Can’t wait to share my writing with you in 2020! 💕

[myblckcty]

EDJE Skin Studio | Rodney Scott

Join My Black City in Celebrating and Supporting EDJE Skin Studio | Rodney Scott. We Shine Brighter Together. #MyBlackCity https://myblackcity.org/edje-skin-studio-rodney-scott/?feed_id=4478 >> >> I’m the owner and lead technician at Edje Skin Studio a premier provider of Scalp Micropigmentation (SMP), Barbering, and Skin Care services. As a barber of 15 plus years I’ve always loved the confidence boost these services provide. At Edje our main service is Scalp Micropigmentation which in short is essentially a cosmetic tattoo that gives the look of a short haircut and can fill in any balding or thinning areas that blend right in with the existing hair. It’s a paramedical procedure that provides hyper realistic results and it is great for men and women. SMP has been getting a lot of attention lately because in terms of hair loss solutions it’s much longer term then the dyes and fibers on the market currently. It’s also far more affordable than alternatives such as hair transplants which can be upwards to $12k and SMP is a fraction of that. As more people discover how safe and easy it is they are opting for the many benefits of SMP. The industry has changed from very limited exposure to more artist becoming instructors and holding class room trainings on SMP allowing new artist to start providing it in more cities.  It’s becoming more commercial as society evolves to make life easier by giving clients care free results that allow them to just wake up and go. For years I’d had clients that were trying to camouflage balding or thinning areas of the scalp and I just knew there had to be a better method and sure enough I discovered SMP and it started gaining momentum as hundreds of thousands have now opted to get it done. Some of the main benefits of SMP would be that it’s completely safe, requires very little maintenance, heals quickly, and is long lasting among others. Because it’s not actual hair you no longer need to continuously purchase hair products or style the hair to hide hair loss. It’s also a non-invasive treatment so healing is limited to just a few days and most clients are back to work in just two days and some even the next day. There’s no bandages or stiches to worry about and results are immediate. After a couple hours at the apt you’ll be leaving our hair loss clinic with results you can see. Scalp Micropigmentation will last for years and won’t fall out or change colors or anything like that it will just fade over the years and just requires touch ups to be maintained. You can even make stylized changes to it and deepen the color over the years if you so choose. I always urge newer clients to educate themselves as much as possible on the process and the practitioner to make a sound decision. Some things to consider before getting Scalp Micropigmentation would first be any health considerations that may be a contraindication such as heart conditions, skin cancer, use of blood thinners, or pregnancy etc. That coupled with finding a trusted artist that has a good amount of diverse before and after photos in their gallery to ensure they can deliver the results you’re seeking. These would be my recommendations to make a sound investment in SMP. SMP is definitely tried and true and looking back the only thing I’d change is starting this path a bit earlier.

[brettzjacksonblog]

Bitcoin Attacks Range Highs as Analysts Target Move to $12,000+

Bitcoin has now entered a consolidation phase as it hovers above the $11,000 level. Buyers’ ability to establish this price level as support appears to be an overtly bullish sign for the benchmark digital asset.

Over the past two days, BTC’s mid-term outlook has been growing increasingly bright.

Yesterday, bears sent the crypto down to lows of $10,500 before BTC was met with a massive influx of buy orders that sent its price surging higher.

This support-resistance flip is a positive sign that suggests further upside could be imminent.

Bitcoin is now in the process of attacking its range highs in the lower-$11,000 region, as bulls are moving to break the resistance established between $11,200 and $11,400 earlier this week.

One analyst is noting that he believes a sharp move up to its mid-term resistance at $11,600 is imminent.

This comes as other traders highlight a bourgeoning technical formation that could help provide the cryptocurrency with some serious upwards momentum in the near-term.

Bitcoin Attacks Range High Resistance as Analysts Eye Move to $11,600 

At the time of writing, Bitcoin is trading up just under 2% at its current price of $11,110.

Throughout the past couple of days, BTC has been ranging between $10,800 and $11,200, entering a consolidation phase as buyers attempt to drum up further support.

In the near-term, the cryptocurrency’s next resistance to watch sits between $11,400 and $11,600.

Whether or not it is able to break above this region may depend on how strong BTC’s break out of this consolidation range is.

One factor working in the favor of bulls is the recent support-resistance flip of $10,500. On Monday evening, bears sent the crypto reeling down to this price level. Once tapped, Bitcoin’s price instantly rocketed back to $11,000.

Analysts are now noting that a break above its current range highs could lead it towards $11,600.

“Bitcoin attacking the range high! Clearing and breaking that level and we’ll get that run towards $11,400-11,600,” one trader said.

Image Courtesy of Crypto Michaël. Chart via TradingView.

Rapidly Forming Technical Pattern Suggests Move to $12k+ is Brewing 

Another analyst recently explained that he believes Bitcoin can push past $12,000 based on its current technical strength.

He also points to the existence of a bull pennant that has been forming as another reason why upside could be imminent in the hours and days ahead.

“BTC forming bullish pennant that can push 12k+ based on technicals.”

Image Courtesy of CryptoBirb.

The same analyst also observed that negative sentiment in the market spiked just before Bitcoin’s latest push from the $9,000 region to over $11,000 took place.

“Also, interesting spike on negative sentiment peak right before price went up exponential.”

Image Courtesy of CryptoBirb. Data via Santiment.

Because positive sentiment remains in-line with where it has been in recent weeks and has yet to see any abnormal spike, this could be a sign that this rally has fuel to extend further.

Featured image from Unsplash. Charts from TradingView.

from CryptoCracken SMFeed https://ift.tt/334kUGs via IFTTT

[michaelbennettcrypto]

Bitcoin Attacks Range Highs as Analysts Target Move to $12,000+

Bitcoin has now entered a consolidation phase as it hovers above the $11,000 level. Buyers’ ability to establish this price level as support appears to be an overtly bullish sign for the benchmark digital asset.

Over the past two days, BTC’s mid-term outlook has been growing increasingly bright.

Yesterday, bears sent the crypto down to lows of $10,500 before BTC was met with a massive influx of buy orders that sent its price surging higher.

This support-resistance flip is a positive sign that suggests further upside could be imminent.

Bitcoin is now in the process of attacking its range highs in the lower-$11,000 region, as bulls are moving to break the resistance established between $11,200 and $11,400 earlier this week.

One analyst is noting that he believes a sharp move up to its mid-term resistance at $11,600 is imminent.

This comes as other traders highlight a bourgeoning technical formation that could help provide the cryptocurrency with some serious upwards momentum in the near-term.

Bitcoin Attacks Range High Resistance as Analysts Eye Move to $11,600 

At the time of writing, Bitcoin is trading up just under 2% at its current price of $11,110.

Throughout the past couple of days, BTC has been ranging between $10,800 and $11,200, entering a consolidation phase as buyers attempt to drum up further support.

In the near-term, the cryptocurrency’s next resistance to watch sits between $11,400 and $11,600.

Whether or not it is able to break above this region may depend on how strong BTC’s break out of this consolidation range is.

One factor working in the favor of bulls is the recent support-resistance flip of $10,500. On Monday evening, bears sent the crypto reeling down to this price level. Once tapped, Bitcoin’s price instantly rocketed back to $11,000.

Analysts are now noting that a break above its current range highs could lead it towards $11,600.

“Bitcoin attacking the range high! Clearing and breaking that level and we’ll get that run towards $11,400-11,600,” one trader said.

Image Courtesy of Crypto Michaël. Chart via TradingView.

Rapidly Forming Technical Pattern Suggests Move to $12k+ is Brewing 

Another analyst recently explained that he believes Bitcoin can push past $12,000 based on its current technical strength.

He also points to the existence of a bull pennant that has been forming as another reason why upside could be imminent in the hours and days ahead.

“BTC forming bullish pennant that can push 12k+ based on technicals.”

Image Courtesy of CryptoBirb.

The same analyst also observed that negative sentiment in the market spiked just before Bitcoin’s latest push from the $9,000 region to over $11,000 took place.

“Also, interesting spike on negative sentiment peak right before price went up exponential.”

Image Courtesy of CryptoBirb. Data via Santiment.

Because positive sentiment remains in-line with where it has been in recent weeks and has yet to see any abnormal spike, this could be a sign that this rally has fuel to extend further.

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[writesaboutbangtan17]

what I found in you | 01

jungkook x reader slight angst, smut

12,820 words

a/n: remember that time i posted a long list of fic ideas n stuff i was writing and this wasn’t on it? oops! this was originally gonna be a oneshot but things got way out of hand so, please forgive me for taking two months to write a 12K part one, i know i’m garbage. the next part will have a lot more angst so prepare yourselves, and once again thx @mysoftae this would never have come to fruition without you ;(

~ in which your ridiculously hot, annoying brat of a roommate keeps you up at all hours of the night, takes up all your space, is essentially trying to ruin your life, and is intent on sticking his dick in you

     You had always liked living alone.

     There were no one’s dishes to wash but your own, you could play your music as loud as you wanted, the only person you had to worry about your cat liking was yourself, nobody could complain about what spices you stunk up the place with, and most importantly, you never had to wear pants.

     You would have been content to live alone for the rest of your sad, lonely life enjoying nothing but those small pleasures.

     Then one day there was Jeon Jungkook, on his knees, hands clasped beneath his chin, looking up at you with those wide, glittering brown eyes of his. Maybe you would have said no if he hadn’t been blocking you up against the door to the library, if there hadn’t been a line of people building up behind him complaining about the two of you being in their way, if he actually would have moved when you grabbed his shoulder and tried to shove him to the side with all of your strength. That kid had been working out a little too much.

     Also, he was begging. That might have had something to do with it.

     He came with only his backpack, a few boxes full of clothes and books and things, three pairs of boots tied together and slung over his shoulder, and his PS4—he didn’t ask for help carrying any of it, just showed up outside your door with all of it piled up in his arms at once. Your guest bedroom already had a bed and a dresser for him, and you had saved up for a pretty nice TV in the living room, and that was all he needed otherwise.

     The first few weeks having a roommate were...different. Your cat seemed to like him, always disappearing into his room and deciding you were no longer worth her time. He kicked his shoes off right in front of the door for you to trip on every morning and every night, and even when he knew you were going grocery shopping, he never told you that he’d finished off the carton of milk or eggs.

     With Jungkook came all of his friends. There were six of them in particular who came around more than most, but you didn’t really mind them. Jin cooked for you, and Hoseok could never help himself from tidying up any of the common living areas; Taehyung was nice to look at, you’d never met anyone kinder than Jimin, and Yoongi kept them all in check; Namjoon was fine as long as he sat on the couch and didn’t touch anything the whole time he was over. Your apartment was never without one or two of them, and now you always had to wear pants.

     But he washed his own dishes and never asked you to turn your music down, so as long as he was taking a load off of your bills, you would survive. Jungkook never did tell you why he had so desperately, immediately needed a place to stay, and you never thought to ask why none of his other friends would take him in.

     It took two months for you to start figuring that out for yourself.

     You’d been living with him for nine weeks the first time it happened.

     The first year in your graduate program was kicking your ass, but by the grace of God you had crawled beneath your covers before 2 A.M. and your only plans for tomorrow were to sleep in until noon, order a pizza, and lay in bed all day.

     At least that was the plan until your eyes popped open at the sound of whatever the fuck coming from outside your door and down the hall. The alarm clock on your bedside table told you that it was 3:24 A.M. It took a minute for your consciousness to wade through the swampy, dreamy haze and register exactly what the unholy noise filling up what should have been your dead silent apartment was.

     “Naaants ingonyama bagithi baba!”

     He’d been watching The Lion King when you got home from work.

     “Jeon Jungkook, do you want to die!?” You screeched, throwing your comforter off of your legs and wobbling on your feet in a half-asleep stupor as you pursued the object of your despair. His singing only got louder after you shoved your door open and let it slam against the wall, and you started a list in your head of the all the easiest ways you could kill him and who you could call to help get rid of the body.

     Jimin was probably your best option. He’d been looking for any good reason to attack Jungkook since he’d needed him to come get something off of a high shelf in your kitchen a couple of days ago, and Jungkook had called him a “little nugget.”

     The sound of his voice brought you stumbling into the living room, where he sat on the couch in the dark, screaming the lyrics so hard he must have been hurting himself instead of singing at this point. You smacked blindly against the wall, relieved to feel a switch and flicking it upwards. The room filled with soft yellow light from overhead, and Jungkook’s “singing” stopped as suddenly as it had begun. He slowly turned to look at you with those doe eyes, shining with the most glaringly insincere innocence and remorse.

     “Oh, sorry noona, did I wake you?”

     You blinked at him once, twice, and let him believe for a moment that you wouldn’t actually do him any bodily harm.

     “I’m going to castrate you,” you answered him quietly, and then lunged, tackling him back into the couch cushions. With the advantage of being on top, you reached down to wrap both of your hands around his neck.

     “Who do you think you are!” You demanded, keeping the pressure on his throat light, “I let you live here and this is how you repay me, you brat!” Jungkook just laughed as his much larger hands wrapped around your wrists and easily pried you off of him, before shifting his upper body weight to his shoulders and lifting his hips.

     “What are you—oomph,” you were cut off as your back hit the carpet, realizing just a moment too late that Jungkook had rolled the two of you onto the floor and now had you pinned beneath him. He was holding your arms down by your head with an iron grip, and your legs were trapped between his absurdly meaty thighs, and you could barely move. You’d have to go into his room and throw all his weights out the window next time he went out and left you—

     “It’s the circle of life, and it moves us all!” He’d leaned in so close to you that the tips of your noses brushed. It was easy to ignore the heat on your cheeks at his close proximity when you could smell the...peanuts and chili peppers on his breath.

     “Jeon Jungkook, were you eating my Chinese food again?!”

     There, on the coffee table, was your previously half-eaten quart of kung pao chicken. You knew it was yours because you had taken special care to write your initials on every side of it, and the top and even the bottom—you’d noticed Jungkook had a special talent for eating everything that wasn’t explicitly yours, but obviously wasn’t his, that way he could talk himself out of it if he got caught.

     You’d been so excited to eat that for lunch tomorrow, and Jungkook was just giggling at the frown that pulled your lips down low on your face.

     His offenses on the night were just piling up, but up to that point had been reasonably forgivable. Then he took it one step further, moving both of your wrists into just one of his hands and stabbing two fingers right into your ribs.

     Your involuntary peals of distressed laughter rang through the room, knocking off the ceiling and the walls and surrounding the both of you. If the way the corners of Jungkook’s lips quirked up was any indication, he was enjoying your pain and suffering. He knew exactly where to jab and poke to make you scream.

     “Jung...kook!...please, I...I-I’m fucking begging you, you.....you fuck...fucking demon!” Getting any words in around the heaves that had once been laughs, trying to suck oxygen back in and relieve your aching lungs, was no simple task. Jungkook did stop, finally, but his eyes were narrowed and his lip curled and you knew that he wasn’t done torturing you just yet.

     “What did you call me? A demon? Noona, that’s just mean,” he mocked you, “now where else are you ticklish...behind your knee, right?” He leaned back to cup your calf in his hand, then ghosted his touch up your leg, leaving goosebumps behind his fingertips’ trail. You thrashed to the side to get away from him, and realized that his stance had opened up the space between his thighs just so—you jerked your leg up with every intention of kneeing him in the balls and leaving him infertile, but Jungkook was quick, sitting back down on your legs with all of his weight to stop you.

     His move backfired.

     A moan ripped through the night.

     Your leg was trapped, still wedged between his thighs, and dug hard into the dick hidden in his sweatpants. You could feel it twitch against your knee.

     “Oh, fuck,” Jungkook wheezed, both of his hands immediately letting you go as he clambered up and backed away. You couldn’t look him in the eye, so you turned your head towards the TV. The cable box read 4 A.M. So much for your night of tranquil, undisturbed rest.

     “I, uh,” he started and immediately stopped, smart enough to know there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t make the situation even more embarrassing for either of you. You just dipped a nod down at him, then stood and rushed back down the hall to your bedroom. As you passed him, you noticed from the corner of your eye that he had to cover the beginnings of an erection with his hands.

     It was a sight that kept you up the rest of the night.

     Your phone rang at 7 A.M., and it was your boss calling you into work at the last minute because one of your co-workers was sick. You scratched ‘order a pizza and lay in bed all day’ off the mental two-item list of things you’d needed to maintain the appearance of sanity as you wandered around your room, somehow stepping out of it in your uniform with your hair and teeth brushed. You were barely conscious as you dragged yourself downstairs and to your car—you didn’t know how you made it to work or back in one piece.

     Jungkook made himself scarce for the next few days, for which you were thankful. Between your rage at him for stealing away what would have been your first and last peaceful night of the semester and your mortification at violating him, it was best that you didn’t have to see him for a little while. Eventually you willed yourself to forget about the whole thing, and sooner rather than later, things around the apartment went back to normal.

     Some people say things always get worse before they get better, but in your experience, things always got better before they became dramatically worse.

     After knowing him for two years and living with him for several months, you were shocked that there were still things for you to learn about Jungkook. It was mostly little things, like how he hated black olives (he refused to eat a pizza you brought home for dinner even after pulling off all the little slivers, as if the taste of them would linger over the cheese and sauce) or how he knew all the words to every Britney Spears song you could demand that he sing (at 3 A.M., instead of Disney renaissance movie soundtracks).

     Some of these new discoveries excited you, some terrified you, some made you angry or sad or happy or confused, but none had ever affected you quite as much as when you found out that Jungkook could dance.

     Jimin was one of the top performers in his university’s ballet program, and Hoseok taught at a local studio and performed with a street crew, but Jungkook had never done anything outside of his shitty retail job and graphic design major that enlightened you to his secret talent. It was possible you never would have found out if Hoseok hadn’t come around pounding on your door one morning, ranting and raving about a competition his crew wanted to enter with a hefty monetary prize on the line, but was one member short of being qualified for.

     That was where Jungkook came in.

     You had already told Hoseok you’d go see him at the competition, but your eyes were on Jungkook the whole time. With only a few weeks of practice, he outshone almost everybody he danced alongside. You knew Jungkook was good at everything that he tried to do, but this was more than that—you were clearly watching him do something that he was meant to do.

     He stepped out for somebody else to fill the spot after the competition, but he started going to Hoseok’s studio a couple nights a week after that, dancing with his friends just for fun. It was a simple story—he’d been on a dance team in high school, they’d won their fair share of championships and Jungkook had considered studying dance in college, but in the end had dropped it in pursuit of something more realistic. It broke your heart to hear that he just didn’t think he was good enough at it, when you had seen so clearly otherwise with your own two eyes.

     As sympathetic as you were, that didn’t keep you from being annoyed when Jungkook brought dancing home. Of all places, he made his own studio out of the kitchen, and especially liked to gyrate and twirl around in the tight space when it was occupied by somebody (usually Jin) trying to cook around his choreography. There had been lots of close calls with Jin having to duck underneath an incoming dab as he carried a pot of pasta and scalding water to the sink to drain, or struggling to get around Jungkook attempting to spin on his shoulders on the floor to get to a pan of something burning on the stove.

    Jungkook never found anything wrong with all of this, of course. When he asked where else he was supposed to dance, and you suggested literally anywhere else, he’d just pat your head as he insisted there was nowhere else in the house with enough space and decent flooring. He couldn’t spin on his shoulders on the living room carpet, obviously.

     Four months to the day after Jungkook moved in, the dancing epidemic reached its breaking point. It was his 21st birthday, and even though he wanted to throw a wild party or go club hopping all night, it fell on a Tuesday. None of his friends felt like partying after a long day at school or work, before another long day of school or work. He’d spent hours moping when he realized this, and was just barely pacified by the compromise that you’d have a nice dinner that night, instead, and then you’d all take him out that weekend.

     He’d accepted this, but only with whines and stomps of his feet.

     You weren’t much of a cook, but found yourself sauteing beef at the stove regardless, as Jin bustled around behind you, throwing a dash of salt into this and giving that a vicious stir and overall acting like preparing this meal was the most stressful, grueling thing he’d ever had to do. He’d cooked for you and Jungkook dozens of times, but that night he was holding himself to a different standard—under no circumstances could he disappoint his youngest and most precious dongsaeng.

     “Is it almost done?” Namjoon asked from the doorway, but before he could set foot over the threshold, Jin had spun around and was whipping the towel he’d had thrown over his shoulder at him.

     “Put your hands up! Take three steps back! Don’t touch anything!” The younger man relented, settling back deep into the hallway. Jin turned back to whatever he was mixing, mumbling manically to himself about trying to cut onions with the blunt side of a knife and catching ovens on fire and accidentally getting pancakes stuck on the ceiling.

     There was a strict no Namjoon in the kitchen rule for many good reasons.

     “Ok, well, Jungkook is on his third beer already,” Namjoon had to half-shout so you could hear him, and his statement was punctuated by a bellowing yeeeeeaaaaah, boooooy! from the living room. The boys had agreed to indulge Jungkook in a Mario Kart tournament, and were all graciously letting him win every round—the drunker he got, the less obvious that was and the more taunting and ruthless he became.

     “Keep him under control!” Jin snapped, “We are not dying in here just for him to pass out in the soup!” You had decided to make the seaweed soup yourself when Jungkook told you it was the first birthday he’d be spending away from his parents, and his mom had given you her recipe over the phone that morning. He’d been pleasantly absent from the kitchen while you soaked the seaweed, marinated the beef, and made a stock, but you knew he’d be in there sooner or later in his best attempts at ruining everything.

     “He just keeps screaming that he’s an adult and he’ll call the cops if we don’t let him have another beer,” Namjoon informed him, “and Taehyung keeps giving him shots of tequila, and I think Jimin was drunk before he even got here and he keeps trying to make out with Yoongi, pretty sure Hoseok is getting ready to fight him.” Jin immediately threw down his rag and started untying the knot keeping his apron on around his waist.

     “You’re hopeless, Joon,” Jin sighed, “it’s like I’m raising these kids all on my own!” Then he was brushing past him into the living room in an attempt to temper the situation, Namjoon was hurrying after him, and you were left alone—with your pan of beef, three different pots on the stove, several bowls of mysterious concoctions scattered across the counter, two dishes in the oven...

     There was yelling from the direction the pair had gone, hysterical laughter, the sound of someone being choke slammed into the floor, and then silence...until Chris Brown was blasting through the apartment. Cold dread sliced down your spine as you knew exactly what was coming next, eyes darting one way and then the other, surveying your surroundings for something, anything you could use to block the one way into the kitchen.

     But then a pot was boiling over, a timer was going off on the other side of the kitchen, and Jin was yelling at you, “Y/N, take the cake out of the oven now!” It was as you were backing up with the cake in your hand that you sensed it, and when you turned to place the cake on the counter, there was he was body rolling by the sink.

     “That looks good, noona,” Jungkook purred at you, and you sent a quick prayer to whatever higher power was watching over you for help dealing with him drunk. He didn’t drink much, and usually when he did, he ended up staying with one of the boys, so this was new territory for you.

     “You know I like dancing in here,” he said, as if you needed the reminder, “are you gonna say that I can’t? On my birthday?” You gathered the strength to ignore him as you took the icing from where Jin had placed it in the fridge and began to spread it over the vanilla cake, wondering when the older boy would return, hoping he wasn’t reffing an actual fist fight in your living room. There were breakables in there.

     You kept your eyes trained on the task at hand, but could sense Jungkook twerking in your direction from your peripheral vision.

     “Oh, god, here he is,” Jin moaned as he came back into the kitchen, bee lining for his jajjangmyeon simmering on the stove, “don’t come near me, Jungkook, I swear to God.” The birthday boy paid no mind to his hyung—all of his concentration was on undulating at your side, and when the cake was properly iced and you had turned back to your soup, he took up the spot behind you and...starting grinding.

     Against your ass.

     He’s drunk! It’s his birthday! Your brain screamed at you, but you couldn’t decide if either of those were reasons to make him stop or to just let him keep going. “Nooooona, dance with me...” He whined into your ear, placing both of his hands on your waist and trying to move your body against his. You shot up another quick prayer that Jin didn’t look at the two of you.

     “I can’t dance, Kookie,” you said in a soft voice, but still let him move your hips as he pleased, “I’m trying to cook.” He had moved so close you could feel his rising body heat through both of your shirts, and his nose was trailing up the curve of your neck, nudging behind your ear...damn Taehyung and those shots of tequila. You were going to kill him the next time you saw him sober.

     “Jungkook, where’d you go!” Speak of the devil and he shall appear—Taehyung burst into the kitchen with Jimin hot on his heels, a disinterested Yoongi and a stoic Hoseok trailing behind them. Namjoon was nowhere to be seen, probably because Jin would just kick him out again, anyways.

     “Oooh, he’s d-dancing with Y/N,” Jimin cooed, or tried to coo but was interrupted by a hiccup. The idiot could barely stand up straight as he leaned his entire weight against Taehyung’s back. “Kitchen dance party!” Taehyung announced, twirling around to wind his arms around Jimin, and the pair began to perform an elaborate waltz on the other side of the island from you and Jungkook.

     You were never letting those two back into your apartment.

     Hoseok seemed appeased, forcing Yoongi into a half-tango-half-dance-battle, and you were at least relieved that they were all so busy with each other they didn’t notice what you immediately did—the feeling of Jungkook growing hard against you.

     ABORT MISSION, you screamed internally, MUST EXTRICATE MYSELF FROM THIS SITUATION AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE. But figuring out how to get away from him without any of the other five boys in the kitchen noticing his semi and raining a hellfire of teasing and shame upon the two of you was no easy task.

     “It’s ok, noona,” Jungkook sighed over your shoulder, and his boozy breath fanned out over your chest, “just daaance with meee...”

     It was definitely not ok.

     “Oh, Y/N, your seaweed soup looks really good!” Jin suddenly popped up at your side, seemingly unperturbed by Jungkook’s dance moves—the glossy look in his eyes signaling he had totally mentally checked out, the stress pushing him into a numb subspace devoid of any fucks towards the grinding going on. “Give Jungkookie a taste!” This sounded like the absolute last thing you wanted to do, the worst thing you could do, but without a good excuse not to, you slowly twisted around with a spoonful of soup and held it upwards without daring to look at Jungkook’s face.

     The weight of the soup on the spoon stayed as it was, and Jin laughed, “How are you supposed to get it in his mouth if you won’t even look at him,” and you immediately regretted it when you did. There was something in his eyes that you had never seen there before—something dark, predatory. His pupils were blown wide and the moment your head tilted upwards at him, he was scanning your whole face before his eyes dipped down to observe every curve of the rest of you.

     Just as you had decided to make a break for it and leave Jungkook to deal with the humiliation of his erection all on his own, he finally leaned forward and wrapped his tongue around the spoon, sucking it into his mouth. His gaze pierced directly into yours again as he licked every drop off of it and then some, watching the way your breathing picked up in response to the way his tongue moved.

     “Uh, Y/N, are you alright?” You didn’t even realize your jaw was dropped, eyes were wide, and chest was heaving until Hoseok had twirled Yoongi over to you and was staring at the scene before him in equal parts concern and disgust. The spell was broken as the spoon popped out of Jungkook’s mouth, and you dropped it to the floor with a clatter so both of your hands were free to shove him away.

     “No!” You cried, slipping behind him to put more space between yourself and your drunk, hot, ridiculously fucking irritating roommate, “I mean, yes, I’m fine! Fuck, I just—I just remembered I, I left something at work. Uh, my—my notes for that paper I was telling you about, I have to go get them. Right now.” None of the sober men pressed you about the obvious lie, Jin just rolling his eyes and tending to your soup, cursing Jungkook under his breath and probably Namjoon, too, finding some way to blame this whole mess on him.

     Yoongi just watched you back out of the kitchen with a knowing smirk, and Hoseok was pushing Jungkook out into the hallway, but he kept his eyes on you until you rounded the corner out of his line of sight. Air raced back into your lungs—you hadn’t realized how hard it had been to breathe for the past fifteen minutes.

     “Have fun doing whatever, Y/N! See you later!” Taehyung called out, sticking his head into the entrance way and observing you rushing out the door with your jacket half on and your shoes hanging off of your fingers. You narrowed your eyes at him and ripped the bottle of tequila out of his hand, essentially cutting the younger boys off for the night.

     “I hope you’re ready to die the next time I see you,” you said and slammed the door shut before he could say anything more.

     As always, Taehyung and Jimin had both left their doors to your shitty old car unlocked after you picked them up, so even though you’d left without your keys, you could still hole yourself up in the backseat for a few hours. You drowned yourself in what was left of the tequila, hoping it’d make you forget the feeling of Jungkook’s hardness against your ass, but had no such luck.

     In the end, you just drunkenly rubbed one out. The orgasm was less than satisfying, with your focus divided between wondering how that hardness would feel between your legs, trying to imagine literally anything else, and keeping an eye out for anyone wandering around the parking lot. As inebriated as you were, you still didn’t want anyone to catch you masturbating in your car. You were pretty sure you could be arrested for that.

     At least getting off put you to sleep, and sleeping helped pass the time. It was obnoxious pounding on your rear windshield that brought you back to half consciousness, and Jin was holding his phone up to the glass so you could see that it was past midnight already.

     “I thought you’d go to a friend’s place or something,” you heard Yoongi’s voice from behind him, “this is just sad.” He wasn’t wrong about that. You threw the door open and stumbled out onto the asphalt, letting Hoseok put an arm around you to keep you on your feet and lead you over to his car.

     “The kids are passed out in your living room, so you can stay with me tonight, if you want,” he offered, but didn’t wait for a yes or no before dumping you into his passenger’s seat.

     The last thing you remembered was somehow getting the seat belt around your body and clicked into place before you woke up in his bed the next morning. You looked a complete mess, of course, as you met Hoseok in the kitchen where a bowl of cereal and several pills awaited you. He helped you pat down your hair and gave you a change of clothes, but you drew the limit at him saying he’d drive you back home. Hoseok was too nice for his own good.

     You spent the entire Uber ride home begging whatever entity would listen to let the three stooges still be asleep when you got home, and for once luck was on your side. Taehyung was passed out in Jimin’s lap, and they were both draped across Jungkook’s back on the floor. It was a sight that would have warmed your heart if you didn’t hate them all so much.

     You tiptoed through the living room and let out a breath of relief when you were behind the safety of your locked bedroom door. I can totally stay in here forever, you thought, what do I really need outside of this room? Food and water be damned, survival was not worth having to face Jungkook ever again. You could probably have anything you needed delivered by drone to your window until he moved out.

     Unfortunately, in the real world there was still work and school to worry about, but you managed to sneak around your roommate for the next few days. Half the time he had school and work himself, but you had to give up fifty dollars that you really couldn’t afford to bribe Taehyung and Jimin into abducting him and keeping him busy whenever he had any free time.

     For some reason, you had yourself convinced that if you made it to the weekend without seeing him, somehow, everything would reset. He’d go out clubbing with the boys, as promised, get blackout drunk and spend the night with one of them, and by the time he came to on Sunday morning, there could be no way he’d remember the kitchen grinding incident. It all made sense in your head.

     Of course, that all went to shit, as things normally did since Jungkook moved in and his friends invaded your life. It was Hoseok who showed up on Saturday evening, after Jungkook had left with the twin terrors and you were in your pajamas already. He said he was cashing in the favor you owed him after he had helped you out on Tuesday night and Wednesday morning.

     “Technically, I don’t owe you anything since I didn’t ask for your help,” you pointed out as he let himself in and rushed to your bedroom.

     “And I technically saw you looking at Jungkook like you wanted to eat him alive,” Hoseok shot back, freezing you in your doorway. He was already in your closet, throwing your comfy sweaters and mom jeans this way and that.

     “Holy shit, you’ve never tried to look sexy in your life, have you,” but he was mumbling to himself, and it wasn’t a statement worthy of an answer, anyways.

     “I did not want to...I’m not attracted to Jungkook,” you said, a moment too late for it to sound like it was true, “I want to lock him in his room and ground him for the next several months for being gross and stupid on Tuesday, and that’s it.” Hoseok hummed back in fake agreement, before backing up out of your clothes with a pink maxi dress slung over one forearm and a black baby doll dress over the other.

     “It’s so sad that these are the only two things you own that make you look younger than, like, 35,” he said, “just put one on so we can go.”

     “Go where,” you hissed, grabbing them both and throwing them onto your bed, “I was actually about to go to sleep, so, if you don’t mind—”

     “Go out with us, obviously,” Hoseok dropped down beside the dresses, grabbing a pillow to hopefully smother himself to death with. Instead, he just squished it underneath his head to make himself more comfortable as he waited.

     And waited, and waited. You just stared at him like he’d grown a second eyeball in the middle of his forehead or like he’d turned purple or something.

     “That’s really funny,” you finally said after several moments of waiting for him to let you in on the joke, “unless you point a gun to my head, that’s not happening.” You stepped towards your door to let him out, but on second thought—

     “Actually, I think I’d rather let you shoot me than go out with you guys, so I don’t think there’s anything you could do to get me out of this apartment tonight.” You hadn’t known Hoseok for long, but the sight of him frowning just seemed so...wrong. Like his face wasn’t really his face any longer, like nothing in the world would ever be decent and good again if he didn’t start smiling again, or at least stop doing...whatever his lips were doing.

     “Why do you even want me to go?!” You relented, at least a little bit—if he had a good enough reason, you’d give him a second of consideration. He immediately brightened up at your slightest budging.

     “Well there’s this girl from the studio who I asked to come with,” he started, and you had already checked out again. Jungkook’s friends’ girl problems were not your concern. Still, you let him finish, “but she wasn’t really comfortable coming with just me and the guys, so I told her that you’d be there. This is my shot, I’ve been waiting months to ask her out!”

     You knew telling him no would get him to make that weird, horrible, sad face again, but it had to be done—”Also, if you don’t come, I’m gonna tell everyone about how you masturbated in your car on Tuesday night.”

     And you had thought Hoseok was a nice guy.

     “Yeah, I saw that,” he told you, “Jin made me go check on you when he saw you left your keys. Don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, just your hand in your pants and you practically screaming Jungkook’s name. It was like, a gross hot? If you know what I mean?” Your dad had tried to convince you to buy a weapon when you moved away from home, and now was the first time since then that you wished you had. Anything to seriously maim the man sitting on your bed would have been welcomed.

     Things were bad enough with the kitchen grinding incident. If Jungkook knew about the sad car masturbating, you’d really have to kick him out or end your own lease to get away from him, neither of which were valid, realistic options.

     “Fuck you,” you spat at him, “get out so I can change.” He skipped out into the living room, screaming and clapping along the way, but when you shut your door he was back up on it screeching about which dress you should wear.

     “The pink one is like a muumuu!” He insisted, “You can’t dance in that! Guys will literally run away from you if you wear it!” That almost made you want to wear the damn thing, but in the end, you walked out of your room in the black dress. You might not have if the pink dress had still fit you, but you had bought it three summers ago and it had barely fit you then, back when you cared at least a little bit about your body, before Jungkook and graduate school took away your will to live.

     “I wore this to two funerals,” you told Hoseok as he looked at you and sighed in distaste, “I’ve never worn it anywhere else.” He grabbed your hair and pulled it up over your ears on both sides, then grabbed your nose to twist your face in every direction, inspecting each inch of you with critical eyes.

     “You couldn’t tease your hair or even put on eyeliner or something?”

     “I brushed it and I covered up the big zit on my forehead. That’s all you’re getting, asshole,” and with that you were out the door and into Hoseok’s car, again, ruminating on why it couldn’t have been Jin or even Yoongi who let you crash at their place on Tuesday night. Yoongi would have been an ass about it, and never let you forget that he helped you that one time, but at least you wouldn’t be about to go into this club in a dress you’d bought because your great grandma died and high heels your mother had made you buy once that you literally never wore, having to face Jungkook for the first time since he fucking made you wet in the kitchen.

     It occurred to you then that letting Jungkook move into your apartment was probably the worst mistake you’d ever made, and it was one you’d be paying for for a long time, you were sure.

     “Something about this is...very wrong,” was the first thing any of the boys said when Hoseok dragged you over to the table they’d occupied. You allowed yourself a brief moment of comfort at the fact that there were only five of them there—Jungkook was nowhere to be seen, for now at least.

     “You look kind of hot,” Namjoon reassured you with a wink, or he thought he was being reassuring, then grunted when Seokjin violently elbowed him in the ribs.

     “I mean, you look nice,” he tried again, and Jin nodded in approval.

     “Y/N, this is Seulgi,” Hoseok said, gesturing to the one girl pressed against Jimin’s side, “Seulgi! This is my friend Y/N that I was telling you about!” She looked miserable as Hoseok brought you to her attention, and her face brightened only just at the sight of the one other girl she had been promised would be there.

     “We’re going to the bathroom,” she said with no preamble, just scooted out of her chair, grabbed your arm, and dragged you away from the group.

     The night was off to a great start.

     “I’m sorry about that,” she said, only after pulling both of you into one dirty stall together, “I know you’re friends with all those guys, but the blonde one has been quizzing me on Hobi trivia for the past half hour, and Tweedledum and Tweedledee were having a burping contest when I first got here and,” she took a deep breath,

     “I felt like I was actually going crazy for a minute there. I know Hoseok likes me, and he’s a nice guy but,” another deep breath, “I think the scary one would kill me if I laid a single finger on him. Not to mention,” another deep breath, “I have to see Jimin at the studio every couple days and he’d never let me live it down if we hooked up. And the birthday boy did like five shots when someone mentioned you were coming, so good luck with that.”

     You thought it all over in your head—Taehyung and Jimin had a burping contest like the idiots they were, Yoongi didn’t want Hoseok dating this girl, and Jungkook was obviously purposely avoiding you. That was fine.

     “The birthday boy can kiss my ass,” you said, for some reason. All you’d meant to do was introduce yourself and say it was nice to meet her, but for a second there, your mouth clearly had a mind of its own.

     “I’ve seen him dancing with like, any girl he could spot with a C-cup,” Seulgi added, and you would have immediately sought him out to give him a good spanking for being so shallow and gross if the idea of spanking him didn’t seem so kinky now.

     “We live together,” you informed her, and got the pat on the shoulder of pity and attempted comfort that you were looking for. Seulgi didn’t seem so bad, you could tell why Hoseok liked her.

     You let her lead you back out to the table, from which all but Yoongi and Taehyung had disappeared. Taehyung was already out cold, and Yoongi was scrolling through his phone with his earbuds in, entirely uninterested in anything going on around him. You wished you gave as few fucks about everything as he did.

     There were two shots on the table of God only knew what, and even though one was clearly meant for her, Seulgi let you take both of them before she dragged you out onto the dance floor. By no means could you dance, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to try. At least you couldn’t embarrass yourself as much as Namjoon did, flapping around beside Jin, who had the decency to do nothing more than sway left and right. You knew he could pull out some truly terrible dance moves, but apparently wouldn’t do so in public.

     “Of course you don’t know how to move your hips,” Hoseok groaned as he came up behind Seulgi, “let’s show her, yeah?” And the two of them were immediately caught up in the own world, rubbing and writhing against each other without a care in the world. Your job was complete, as far as you were concerned.

     The music was only mildly shitty, so you just kept dancing for awhile. A few times you were joined by a guy, only to have them duck out as soon as they realized you wouldn’t give them a handjob or go have a quickie in the bathroom. For the most part, you were alone, and Jimin got you a drink that you couldn’t identify but it tasted damn good, and you hadn’t seen Jungkook at all, so it wasn’t that bad. You’d even go as far as to say you were having fun.

     “There he goes again,” you heard Seulgi’s voice in your ear for the first time in what seemed like hours, as she directed your attention to a certain doe-eyed, ruffly-haired young man making out with a cute blonde on the other side of the dance floor. Frankly, you were just relieved he wasn’t harassing you again, the last thing you needed was his dick grinding against your ass and—

     “Hey, let’s not break the fancy cups,” Hoseok said, grabbing your hand and easing the fingers that you didn’t even realize had tightened threateningly around the stem of your glass. You let him take it away from you, as your eyes were fixated on the obscene sight. Jungkook was squeezing her ass, grinding into her front-to-front, pulling away from her lips to trail his nose up her jaw until his lips found her ear to nip at just so—and then he was looking right at you.

     You immediately spun on your heel, rushing back in the general direction you could remember the table being to find your purse and leave. I just don’t want him to come over and say anything about Tuesday night, you thought, but it left a sour taste in your mouth, knowing it was only half the truth.

     “I’ll take you home,” you heard Seulgi say as you found the table and pulled your purse over your shoulder. You hadn’t even realized she was following you.

     “Don’t let me ruin your night, I’m fine, I’m just tired,” you lied through your teeth, but Seulgi laughed humorlessly, “The night was ruined before you got here, don’t worry about it, I’m ready to leave, too.”

     You agreed to wait by the table as Seulgi went to tell Hoseok goodbye, only hoping that Jungkook wouldn’t find his way over before you could escape. Yoongi had finally taken his eyes off of his phone and was watching you with narrowed, calculating eyes.

     “You’re in deep,” he eventually sighed, “me too.”

     “Seulgi’s nice,” was the only thing you could think of to say. Yoongi just shrugged before he was looking back at whatever on his phone screen.

     “Okay, let’s go!” And then she was back, and she was once again dragging you onto the dance floor, but this time in service of getting to the exit as quickly as possible. As much as you tried to distract yourself by looking at anything or anybody else, you couldn’t help but glance over in the direction you’d last seen Jungkook.

     He was still making out with that girl.

     He didn’t care that you were there, at all.

     Laying in bed that night, you came to the conclusion that he must not have remembered the kitchen grinding incident. It wouldn’t be a shock with how drunk he was if he couldn’t remember anything from Tuesday night. It would be just like him to forget all about it and leave you to deal with the embarrassment and misery on your own. Now that you thought about it, you figured that if Jungkook had remembered he would have been outside your door begging you to forgive him and not kick him out the next morning. He knew what the boundaries of your relationship were, and rubbing his dick on you on purpose far overstepped them.

     Things around the apartment changed. Obviously, Jungkook was unhappy with you, if the way he stopped making sure to leave leftovers for you and ignored you when you said good morning to him and erased all your saved TV shows was any indication. And you were mad at him, as well, but you couldn’t put your finger on why. All you knew was that whenever you saw him, there was a heat building in your chest threatening to spill over. You weren’t even sure what you’d do if it did.

     Eighteen weeks after Jungkook moved into your apartment, you found out.

     There was an unspoken rule that Sunday nights were your night. Jungkook was always quieter than usual, let you decide what was for dinner and monopolize the bathroom and have free, uninterrupted TV use. Even when your friendship with him was virtually nonexistent at this point, he still respected that.

     That is until you stepped out into the hall after a long bath one Sunday evening and were immediately welcomed back to reality by Jungkook screaming expletives in the living room. Something about Reaper escaping his Deadeye.

     The music and sounds of Overwatch, including Jungkook’s frustrated yells or cries of victory, had more or less become the soundtrack to your life over the past four and a half months. Normally, you wouldn’t have minded, but Jungkook had been an asshole for the past two weeks and today was your day.

     “Hey, it’s Sunday,” you called out, to no response, of course. It was vague, but Jungkook knew exactly what you meant. If he was smart, he would have just turned the game off and gone to his room—it would have saved the two of you a lot of trouble. Too bad that, at least for today, Jungkook was pretty dumb.

     “Did you hear me? I said it’s Sunday,” you repeated as you stomped into the living room, and feasted your eyes upon the sight of shirtless Jungkook sitting on top of the coffee table, eyes glued to the TV screen. We eat on that coffee table, you hissed in your head, and even from the angle you were at, you could see too many stains of only-God-knew-what on his dirty sweatpants. Probably cum, and hot sauce. The little shit was getting cum, hot sauce, and farts all over your coffee table.

     He still didn’t answer you, he didn’t acknowledge your presence at all. He couldn’t bear to so much as jerk his head in your direction. The heat in your chest was flaring and licking up your throat.

     “I’m talking to you, asshole,” you barked, taking a few more steps in until you were standing directly behind him, closely watching the way he played with his whole body. All he had to do was move his fingers, but he was leaning to the left as if that’d help him get a better view of a player shooting at him from above, throwing his arms as if he was actually dodging an attack. For a moment, you were transfixed by his shoulder blades shifting, deltoid muscles stretching beneath his taut skin. The heat in your chest spread down between your ribs until it was brewing in the pit of your belly.

     “Well I’d appreciate it if you’d fucking stop,” Jungkook snapped back, and for you, the world froze. You could barely remember now, the shy sophomore who could barely look you in the eye for months when you first started tutoring him, who would run ahead to open every door for you and bring you coffee, who worshiped the ground you walked on. He had changed so much.

     You planted a hand on each side of his firm, wide shoulders and shoved with all your strength. Jungkook was spinning around to face you, but it was too late—he was falling backwards onto the floor, yelping and flailing his limbs, trying to find a place to plant his hands and catch himself. Instead, he landed on his back and rolled ass over head. The satisfaction as you watched one of his feet catch and unplug the PS4’s power cord from the wall was unrivaled.

     And then the room was silent. Jungkook was on the ground and you were leaning over the coffee table to stare down at him, your lips quirked just so. His face was pressed into the carpet, you could just barely see his torso lifting with each breath. “Stay down there, will you,” you sighed at him, and reached for the remote.

     He moved with a swiftness you didn’t know he possessed, jumping onto his feet and grabbing your wrist in a grip so tight he’d definitely leave angry red evidence of it on your skin. He stared down at you with something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place, but you doubted anyone had ever looked at you like that. It was almost calculating, there were cogs whirring in his brain, but it was something more raw and human than that. You felt exposed, as if he was taking you apart piece by piece.

     “I’m tired of playing this game with you.” Barely a second went by for you to think about what that meant before Jungkook reached over to wrap one arm around your waist and haul you up, over the table and against his chest.

     Kissing Jungkook was not like how you’d imagined it would be—not that you’d imagined it before this, of course. He’d never raised his voice at you, probably never felt anything less than simple indifference towards you, so you’d never had reason to believe his kiss would be anything but soft, pliant, tender.

     Instead his lips were pressed hard against yours, unforgiving. He bit your lip when you wouldn’t relent beneath him, and with your gasp his tongue was deep in your throat, licking out the apology that he knew he wouldn’t hear. You moaned around the intrusion, into his mouth, and braced your legs up around his waist.

     The hand that was still holding your wrist finally let go so that he could grab your ass, kneading the flesh through your flannel pajama pants. Your arms wound around his neck to bring him closer to you.

     Jungkook walked backwards around the table so he could fall onto the couch, and now you were straddling him. Your fingertips played with the soft hair at his neck, then trailed across his shoulders, down until your palms were pressed against his pecs and you finally, gently pushed him back, separating your lips from his.

     “What is this? Why are we doing this?” You asked, barely able to get the words out through your breathlessness. Jungkook leaned forward, knocking his forehead lightly against yours.

     “You’re dense, huh,” he said, and as you were about to indignantly huff and slip away from him, he continued, “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, and I know you have, too. Don’t deny it.”

     So maybe you had never not checked him out when he got home from his morning jog, immediately pulling his shirt over his head when he walked through the door, strutting in all of his sweat-slicked glory into the kitchen for a drink of water before disappearing into the bathroom. Maybe you had become, over time, more and more keenly aware of how large, rugged, and masculine his obnoxious Timberlands were framing your dainty flats and sneakers by the door. Maybe you walked through the door and sighed in bliss when you were surrounded by his mere smell, his cologne and aftershave and whatever was just him.

     “...I’m not denying it,” you conceded. That was all the confirmation Jungkook needed. He was leaving wet kisses on your jaw, down your throat to your collarbone where you felt his teeth nibbling, and you sighed your satisfaction back at him while your hands drifted down from his chest to feel the warm skin of his abdomen. You traced his abs, delighting in the way his breath caught in his throat when your fingers softly followed the curve of his v-line towards the hem of his sweatpants.

     One of his own hands had found its way beneath your shirt against the small of your back, inviting your body into his. You could feel him against your thigh, the soft bulge there stiffening, and took the plunge—his head tipped back as you rocked your hips experimentally against him, and the throaty groan he let out made your entire lower half throb.

     “Did you like that, Kookie?” You asked him softly, teasingly, and his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip while he refused to look at you was all the answer you needed. Now both of those big hands of his were spread out on your hips, coaxing you to keep grinding against him.

     “Take off your shirt, noona,” you barely heard his request, but it was there, breathed out into the air. He still had his head leaned back against the couch cushions, staring at the ceiling, you’d guess trying to keep himself from finishing too early. Little boys had a hard time controlling themselves that way.

     “Why should I?” You asked, swallowing the moan that threatened to spill from your throat when you next rubbed against him and felt the head of his cock dig between your lips and nudge against your clit. Your underwear and pants were like a second skin, you were so wet that they had all but adhered to you.

     It was a genuine question. You knew you’d be naked soon, there was no way you weren’t going to finish this now, but you still wanted to hear his answer. He had been a little shit for months.

     “Because I want to see your fucking tits,” he grunted at you, “and you want me to suck on them and bite them and bruise them, you know you do.”

     Not good enough.

     You froze, and Jungkook kept tugging at your waist a few times before he realized you weren’t going to keep grinding and dropped his hands. His whole body deflated beneath you.

     “But you’ve been an asshole,” you barked at him, “so I don’t think you deserve to see my ‘tits’, brat.” You climbed off of his lap but didn’t go far, settling down right beside him. He still wouldn’t look at you.

     “I do want to get off, though,” you said, and grabbed one of his hands. It was large, rough from use, the veins stretched across it pronounced, but you didn’t observe it for long. It had a job to do.

     “Now Kookie, keep your eyes to yourself,” you warned him as you shoved your pants down your thighs, then placed his palm down against your mound. Jungkook immediately jumped and tried to pull his hand away, but you held it there, giving him time to adjust to the warmth radiating off of you, the wetness he could feel against his fingers. Your eyes were locked on him, waiting for a sign. He gave it to you with the gulp that shook his throat, the way he relaxed his hand in your hold.

     You pressed down on his index and middle finger with your own, and sighed in fucking bliss when they touched your clit through your underwear. On its own, your body slumped back to open yourself up to him. You led his fingers to start circling, slow and steady, and the heat bubbling in your stomach dissolved into a warmth that spread throughout your entire lower body, to the tips of your toes.

     “Noona, please...p-please take your panties off...” Jungkook whined. You were still watching him, saw the way his eyes squeezed tight together and his nose scrunched in a wince, as if it was physically painful for him to ask politely.

     “Why should I?” You repeated, trying to keep your voice steady.

     “So I can make you feel good, noona.” Ding ding ding.

     You moved Jungkook’s hand onto your knee, letting out a shudder of a breath when you realized how sticky the tips of his fingers were, and slid your underwear down to meet your pants. The open air hit your core and you trembled, from the chill or from anticipation, you weren’t sure.

     He didn’t move.

     “Jungkook? What are you waiting for?” You snapped.

     “Permission?” His voice was small, and you melted for it. He’d been acting up ever since he moved in—you hadn’t seen him this docile or obedient in a long time.

     “Touch me,” you sighed, “but don’t look,” and he immediately dragged his hand up your thigh until it reached the split between your legs. Jungkook’s touch over your underwear had been one thing, but his calloused fingertips exploring your lips, tracing shapes into your clit directly was something else, something so much better. He dipped one finger into your entrance, not even up to his knuckle and swirled it there tentatively.

     “More?” He asked.

     “More, more, more,” you panted, grabbing his forearm with both hands to brace yourself and trapping your bottom lip between your teeth.

     Jungkook’s finger pulled away, only for two to dive right back in. The sounds that you made were obscene, would have embarrassed you, if the way he rubbed against your inner walls didn’t feel so good. His fingertips dragged against them as he pulled his fingers out then thrusted them back inside of you, again and again and again. You couldn’t decide between letting your eyelids flutter closed as pleasure wracked your body or intently watching the veins of Jungkook’s hand jumping, the muscles in his forearm flexing in your grasp as he worked you over.

     Of course, he made that decision for you when his thumb brushed over your clit. Your eyes slammed shut and your entire body lurched forward, curling around his arm, trying to pull him further into you. He was rubbing your clit side-to-side, mercilessly, while his two fingers stretched you wide open.

     Who had taught him to touch a woman like this? You’d never thought about his sex life before, other than feeling relieved that he chose to fuck girls at their place instead of bringing them home to bother you with all that noise. Obviously he wasn’t a virgin, not that you’d have ever assumed he was, but it amazed you how well he knew his way around a vagina—well enough to leave you speechless.

     It was a third finger testing at your entrance that forced words out of your mouth, “No, wait, I— I don’t think I can—”

     “Yes, you can, noona,” Jungkook assured you, and then his three middle fingers were pressed into you as far as they could reach. You were mewling, clawing at his arm as his hand jackhammered inside of your pussy—it had been so long since you felt this full, and you could feel your peak was so so so close—

     “Look at me, noona,” Jungkook hissed, and he grabbed your chin with his other hand as your eyes peeled open to look into his hard gaze. The emotions swirled so tightly together—irritation, lust, something akin to hurt—making his eyes darker than usual. “Come for me,” he demanded, letting go of your chin so he could use those fingers to cup your mound and pinch your clit.

     The heat in your body gathered between his hands before it burst out to every nerve, setting you aflame. You screamed through your orgasm, shaking and convulsing underneath him, but watched him watching you the whole time.

     When it was over and aftershocks had you writhing only just, you let go of him, fell back against the couch and shut your eyes, exhausted. No one had made you feel that good in...ever. You hadn’t had many sexual experiences, but something about this...this was the best, you were sure.

     Jungkook was silent, and when you finally felt like you could move your jelly limbs and form coherent human words, you glanced over to thank him for being so good at everything, just this once.

     He had his middle and ring finger in his mouth, the two of them that had been knuckle deep in your cunt, eyes shut in ecstasy as he savored your taste. Of all things, this is what shocked you the most. The red on your cheeks at the image just embarrassed and aggravated you.

     “What the fuck, you nasty little shit,” you bit out, hard still with breath you didn’t have, and he looked right at you again, no shame on his face. One of the corners of his lips tugged up into a smirk. With no hesitation, he reached forward with the index finger still coated in your cum, and painted your lips with it. You were frozen to the spot, unable to stop him or say a word.

     “Lick it, noona,” he implored, and with a mind of its own, your tongue slithered out to collect every last drop he’d left for you. Your willingness made Jungkook brave, brave enough to press the tip of his finger against your closed lips again, but this time with more pressure until they parted and sucked his finger in. You wrapped your tongue tight around it, licking your juices off of him.

     “Good girl,” Jungkook groaned, “you taste so good, don’t you?” And you were nodding, even though realistically you thought you tasted a little salty and metallic. If Jungkook said you tasted good then you tasted damn good.

     He grabbed one of the hands lying limp at your sides and for a second it was tender, even with his finger in your mouth, he was just squeezing your hand in his with encouragement and affection, or something like it. It wasn’t until he let go of your hand that you realized he’d pulled your arm across both of your bodies and placed it down directly onto his stiff cock, still hidden beneath his sweats.

     “Now you make me feel good, hm?” His voice lifted at the end, sounding like a suggestion, but you knew it was a demand, and not one you could even think of refusing. You took hold best you could through the thick fabric and rubbed softly, up and down, mimicking the movement with your tongue. The tips of your fingers brushed against his tip, making him jerk, but other than that Jungkook just narrowed his eyes and breathed hard through his nose, seeming otherwise entirely unaffected.

     “Try harder, noona,” Jungkook growled, and grabbed your wrist to push your hand into his pants. Immediately, you wrapped your fingers around his cock. It didn’t feel particularly thick, but as you jerked it once you could tell it was a little longer than average. It was heavy and warm, hard but soft to the touch. You moaned around Jungkook’s finger imagining it inside of you.

     As you worked his cock, Jungkook’s free hand grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it up over your chest, just enough so that he could grab one of your breasts to knead and take a nipple between his lips. You squeezed him, pumping your palm over him back and forth and back and forth, to the same rhythm of his ministrations against your flesh, the same rhythm with which you bobbed on his finger.

     He hissed when you paused to dig your thumb into his slit, looking up at you with a grimace, and you took the opportunity to pop his finger out of your mouth and reattach your lips to his. The kiss was all teeth on teeth, bruising and gnashing and drinking each other in. Jungkook bucked his hips up into your hand, and in response, you grabbed his sweatpants to yank them down, past his thighs and over his knees until they lay in a pile at his feet.

     “Ok, Kookie,” you pulled away to murmur against his lips, “I’m gonna ride you now, you son of a bitch.” You felt a rumble of a laugh in his chest as you pushed him back and threw one leg over his lap, suspending your heat over his length. His eyes were hooded watching you take it into your hold, positioning it at your entrance, letting the tip slip in and rotating your hips on it just so.

     “Don’t be a fucking tease,” Jungkook warned you, but you just hummed at him and offered up a few shallow bounces on his head. It was hard to resist sinking down and letting him fill you up, but it was worth it for one more moment of that irritation and resistance on his face, the curled lip and the fire in his eyes. One more moment before you handed yourself over to him, before everything changed, before there was absolutely no going back, no way to write all of this off.

     That point had probably long passed, but you allowed yourself the dramatics.

     Jungkook’s hands, which just a moment ago had been gripping your waist, reached up to lock around your wrists and then you were spun over onto your back with him on top of you. You were stuck for a moment on the dreadful sense of déjà vu that swept over you, but then Jungkook leaned back to watch as he buried his cock in your pussy and you could hardly remember your own name, his name, where you were and why you were here, anything other than him fucking you.

     Like you’d noticed earlier, his cock was slender but long enough to reach a spot inside of you that you and your toys and no other man had ever gotten to before. There were immediate tears of pleasure in your eyes, a sob tearing from your throat, and Jungkook was reaching up to pet your hair back and place soft kisses all over your face.

     “Are you alright, noona?” He asked carefully, and you cried out at him, “Yes, Jungkook, I’m fuck—fucking amazing, I feel you so fucking deeeeep inside of me, what the fuck!” He grinded into you, pressing against that spot and against your clit both at once, and somehow it already felt like you were going to come and it was too soon, you didn’t think you could go on after another orgasm. Jungkook still needed his own release, so you started to rock against him.

     He rose an eyebrow, dragging his cock out of you slowly. You waited right on the edge for him to thrust back in, but half a minute passed and—nothing. You opened your eyes and there he was, lingering above you with such a smug look on his face.

     “Do something,” you seethed.

     “But noona,” he said, “why should I?”

     You should have known that you had never really been in control. The tip of his cock bobbed and you felt it tap against your clit.

     “Because I need it,” you whined, “Kookie, please, I need it.” Observing the dampness beneath your eyes, the way you’d bitten your lip raw, the way you struggled to lift your hips for just the slightest touch—he couldn’t refuse you.

     He slammed his cock back into you, balls deep.

     You fucking shrieked, and prayed that your neighbors didn’t hear. It couldn’t be helped. Jungkook was pistoning his cock into your heat, and his forearms were braced on either side of your head to hold him up, allowing you access to grab and scratch his swelling biceps. Sweat was rolling down his forehead, and there were tears dripping down your cheeks. Between the two of you there was so much wet and so much sticky, it was dirty and wrong and perfect.

     “T-Tell me that you...that you l-love my cock, noona,“ Jungkook gasped as his pace quickened, and who were you to deny him?

     “Oh god, Kookie, your cock is so good,” you cried, “I do, I do love your cock.”

     “Are you gonna come for me again? Come all over my cock like a good girl, noona?” You couldn’t even say yes, feeling him stop again to poke at that spot inside of you, the one that made your eyes roll back into your head, your lips widen around a scream that must have shaken your entire building as you hit your high.

     Jungkook rode it out, but the moment your body went lax beneath him, he was leaning back to slip himself out of you. He had one hand around his cock pumping it wildly, and you could see his face twisting in pain—he’d had to come for awhile now. You could barely move, but through sheer power of will you lifted your arm to smack his hand away and tug his cock yourself. It took only one, two, three yanks before Jungkook bent over and one long squirt of cum splattered onto your stomach, hot and thick and all yours.

     Then he was collapsing on top of you, squishing his cum between your bodies, nuzzling his big dumb nose into your neck and leaving a peck of appreciation there. You laid still, unsure of what to do, until you settled on reaching up to your fingers through his hair while you tried to catch your breath. He similarly put his hands on your head, massaging your scalp, making you purr for him. It was...nice.

     Until it wasn’t, because Jungkook was fucking steaming and it felt like a thousands pounds of muscle had melted into steel on top of you, trapping you there. You offered up only one more affectionate gesture, a kiss to the crown of his head, before you put both of your hands on his shoulders and rolled him off of you and onto the floor. He grunted in muted pain, but didn’t say anything else.

     You would have instantly fallen asleep if a thousand alarms weren’t ringing in your head—YOU JUST FUCKED JUNGKOOK! THE BOY YOU TUTORED WHEN HE WAS 19! YOUR ROOMMATE AND ONE OF YOUR CLOSEST FRIENDS! WAY TO GO, YOU FUCKING MORON! As it was, you kept your eyes closed, like maybe if you didn’t open them this would all fade away, just a strange, wonderful dream...

     The sounds of Jungkook standing, of his bare feet slapping against the wooden floors while he hurried away, did nothing for your hopes of this being a dream, of waking up alone and clothed in your bed tomorrow morning with no angry red marks or bruises to prove any of this had actually happened. If this was real, you hoped Jungkook at least had the decency to come back and wipe up the mess he’d made on you. That would have been sweet of him to do.

     But instead you heard him shuffle back in, and then...something familiar. Something you couldn’t immediately place, a tune that was grand and sweeping—

     The Overwatch main menu theme.

     You sat up and opened your mouth to yell protests at him, but then a wet rag was smacking against your forehead and falling into your lap. Jungkook had the nerve to look pleased with himself, but could you blame him? The little shit had plenty of things to be proud of at the moment, his rag sniper shot being the least of them.

     You were going to kill him, and as you did you were going to make sure he knew that everything was his fault. Everything that sucked in the world sucked because of him. World hunger? Jeon Jungkook’s fault. The dirty dishes piled up in your sink? Jeon Jungkook’s fault. The fact that you’d just fucked him and you liked it and wouldn’t mind if it happened again? Jeon Jungkook’s fault. When you heated up leftovers and it was all warm except for that bite in the middle? Jeon Jungkook’s fault. When you got a pebble stuck in your shoe? Of course, Jeon Jungkook’s fau—

     Wait. As you wiped his cum off of your stomach and tossed the rag onto the floor, grabbed the blanket you kept draped over the back of the couch and wrapped yourself up in it, you realized...you weren’t mad at Jungkook. You weren’t even mildly annoyed. There was no heat lingering in your chest.

     Trust Jeon Jungkook to realize how to manipulate you out of being upset at him with sex and orgasms.

     “Hey, babe,” he asked without looking at you, from where had resat himself on the coffee table, and the pet name made something tick in your jaw before the slightest irritation settled into something much softer, “which hero should I play as?”

     “Don’t call me ‘babe’, brat,” you mumbled as you came up behind him and leaned against his back. You could feel the comforting, steady thump of his heartbeat. It occurred to you a second too late that that meant he could feel the rapid flutter going on in your own chest, then.

     You observed the other heroes selected on his team, the time winding down, and tilted your head towards, “Widowmaker, she’s my favorite.” Jungkook giggled, his big wonky front teeth peeking out from behind his lips, a sight you hadn’t even realized you’d missed.

     “She’s one of mine, too,” he said as he selected her and started the match. You watched closely, although you didn’t know much about the game, you’d watched him play enough to know when things were going well or were going poorly. Regardless of which way it was looking for his team, you said,

     “Wow, you suck at this.” He bristled, glancing back at you only briefly with slits for eyes. You bit back a smile at the pout his lips sunk into.

     Jungkook slept in your bed that night, only after promising to eat you out for hours if you let him. It wasn’t quite hours, but the forty minutes and two orgasms added onto the two from earlier were good enough.

     He never slept in his own bed again, and things were definitely...different after that. It took four and a half months of living together for you to accept that while Jungkook was certainly a silly little boy, he was also...a man. A big, strong, and obscenely good-looking one, at that.

     You definitely weren’t dating. Jeon Jungkook was not your boyfriend by any means and you weren’t his anything, either. The two of you just liked to sleep in the same bed and fuck every day.

     The sex didn’t stop his annoying habits. He turned the kitchen into his own personal dance studio every night, he hogged the living room TV to play video games all the time, there was always food mysteriously spilled on the carpet, and you could never seem to get rid of the smell of his cologne stinking up the entire apartment. The only difference was that now, when he did something that particularly pissed you off, he got to make it up to you with orgasms. You were content with that trade-off.

     You decided that maybe, just maybe, having a roommate was not the worst thing that had ever happened to you.

     But you had gone and forgotten your life’s own golden rule: things always, always, always got better before they got dramatically worse.

[joshuajacksonlyblog]

Ethereum‘s Breakout Rally Suggests Bitcoin is Poised to Explode Past $12,000

Ethereum and Bitcoin are both showing immense signs of strength today as they push towards their recently established key resistance levels

ETH once again appears to be leading Bitcoin, as its large upwards price movements now tend to take place just before those seen by BTC

This could prove to be incredibly positive for the benchmark cryptocurrency, as analysts believe it could help send it past $12,000 in the days ahead

For this possibility to come to fruition, the aggregated market must maintain its strength

Ethereum is currently showing signs of strength as it pushes up towards $350. Bitcoin has closely followed its uptrend, as the benchmark crypto is now pushing up towards its resistance in the mid-$11,000 region.

This ETH rally has come about following an extended period of consolidation within the $330 region, and analysts are widely expecting it to push up towards, or even past, $350 in the near-term.

This could prove to be extremely positive for Bitcoin as well because the benchmark cryptocurrency is continuing to track ETH’s general trend.

One analyst is even noting that it could help lead Bitcoin past $12,000 in the days and weeks ahead.

Bitcoin Shows Signs of Strength as It Tracks Ethereum’s Price Action

At the time of writing, Bitcoin is trading up just under 1% at its current price of $11,200. This marks a notable climb from daily lows in the upper-$10,000 region that were set yesterday.

Its overnight surge came about close on the heels of that seen by Ethereum, which hovered within the $330 region for a couple of days before pushing as high as $346 earlier this morning.

One analyst recently pointed out that BTC is closely tracking Ethereum’s price action, which – for the time being – is playing into bull’s favor.

He concludes that ETH’s present strength could guide Bitcoin up towards $12,000.

“Is ETH leading Bitcoin again… If so, I think Bitcoin sees $12k soon,” he said.

Image Courtesy of Josh Rager. Charts via TradingView.

BTC Approaches Crucial Hurdle After Confirming Key Support

It does appear that Bitcoin is approaching a key hurdle that buyers will need to surmount if they want to catalyze further strength.

Its ongoing upswing towards these levels, however, may be bolstered by its ability to confirm $10,900 as support earlier today.

“And $10,900 indeed turned support. Crucial hurdle; clearing this level and I think we’ll see another slight rally towards $11,500 to close the gap on the CME charts,” one analyst observed.

Image Courtesy of Crypto Michaël. Charts via TradingView.

How the market trends in the coming hours should offer greater insight into the implications of the connection between Bitcoin and Ethereum.

Featured image from Unsplash. Charts from TradingView.

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[joshuajacksonlyblog]

Bitcoin Attacks Range Highs as Analysts Target Move to $12,000+

Bitcoin has now entered a consolidation phase as it hovers above the $11,000 level. Buyers’ ability to establish this price level as support appears to be an overtly bullish sign for the benchmark digital asset.

Over the past two days, BTC’s mid-term outlook has been growing increasingly bright.

Yesterday, bears sent the crypto down to lows of $10,500 before BTC was met with a massive influx of buy orders that sent its price surging higher.

This support-resistance flip is a positive sign that suggests further upside could be imminent.

Bitcoin is now in the process of attacking its range highs in the lower-$11,000 region, as bulls are moving to break the resistance established between $11,200 and $11,400 earlier this week.

One analyst is noting that he believes a sharp move up to its mid-term resistance at $11,600 is imminent.

This comes as other traders highlight a bourgeoning technical formation that could help provide the cryptocurrency with some serious upwards momentum in the near-term.

Bitcoin Attacks Range High Resistance as Analysts Eye Move to $11,600 

At the time of writing, Bitcoin is trading up just under 2% at its current price of $11,110.

Throughout the past couple of days, BTC has been ranging between $10,800 and $11,200, entering a consolidation phase as buyers attempt to drum up further support.

In the near-term, the cryptocurrency’s next resistance to watch sits between $11,400 and $11,600.

Whether or not it is able to break above this region may depend on how strong BTC’s break out of this consolidation range is.

One factor working in the favor of bulls is the recent support-resistance flip of $10,500. On Monday evening, bears sent the crypto reeling down to this price level. Once tapped, Bitcoin’s price instantly rocketed back to $11,000.

Analysts are now noting that a break above its current range highs could lead it towards $11,600.

“Bitcoin attacking the range high! Clearing and breaking that level and we’ll get that run towards $11,400-11,600,” one trader said.

Image Courtesy of Crypto Michaël. Chart via TradingView.

Rapidly Forming Technical Pattern Suggests Move to $12k+ is Brewing 

Another analyst recently explained that he believes Bitcoin can push past $12,000 based on its current technical strength.

He also points to the existence of a bull pennant that has been forming as another reason why upside could be imminent in the hours and days ahead.

“BTC forming bullish pennant that can push 12k+ based on technicals.”

Image Courtesy of CryptoBirb.

The same analyst also observed that negative sentiment in the market spiked just before Bitcoin’s latest push from the $9,000 region to over $11,000 took place.

“Also, interesting spike on negative sentiment peak right before price went up exponential.”

Image Courtesy of CryptoBirb. Data via Santiment.

Because positive sentiment remains in-line with where it has been in recent weeks and has yet to see any abnormal spike, this could be a sign that this rally has fuel to extend further.

Featured image from Unsplash. Charts from TradingView.

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[brettzjacksonblog]

Crypto Exec: Bitcoin Ready To Blast Past $10,000, Tap $12,000 In 40% Boom

Over the past two months, Bitcoin (BTC) has ripped to the upside, posting an over 100% gain. At the same time, some crypto assets, like Binance Coin (BNB), Litecoin, and Chainlink, have, to put it (not so) lightly, gone to the moon. As Ikigai’s Travis Kling recently pointed out, Bitcoin is up 129% year-to-date, while BNB has seen a jaw-dropping 432% performance, rallying off the exchange’s commitment to building a value proposition for the token.

In any other market, investors would be doing their utmost to secure profits, liquidating their digital asset stashes for fiat. Ironically so, it would be kind of like a bank run, with speculators running for the hills to secure their “lambo money”.

For some reason or another, however, many in the cryptocurrency ecosystem are sure that Bitcoin’s run is just getting started. Crazy, right?

Related Reading: Crypto Tidbits: Bitcoin Taps $9,100, Samsung Pay Could Support Cryptocurrency, Whales Accumulating

Bitcoin Is Ready To Roll

Vinny Lingham, the chief executive of Civic that has been dubbed the “Oracle of Bitcoin” on some occasions, took to Twitter to convey his latest BTC price predictions. In a tweet, the venture capitalist explained that he believes that Bitcoin may soon “blow through $10,000”, to then test $12,000.

This BTC action looks aggressive. Makes me think that we may blow through $10k and test $12k very soon, but $12k is a very heavy resistance level, so I would expect consolidation around the $10k level for some time if $12k is (likely) rejected.

— Vinny Lingham (@VinnyLingham) May 31, 2019

From there, he expects for the crypto market to stagnate, as $12,000 is purportedly a “very heavy resistance level”. Indeed, $12,000 is just about where BTC topped twice in early-2018,  which was when the cryptocurrency market was trying to break from the vise of bears. And more importantly, a collapse under $12,000 is what many believe kicked off 2018’s brutal decline.

Does BTC Have The Chops? 

This begs the question — does Bitcoin even have the legs to pass above $10,000. According to most analysts, it sure does. As Filb Filb explains, 7,300 BTC worth of shorts opened on Bitfinex when Bitcoin was trading between $11,600 and $13,800 levels in early-2018. Assuming that the positions have yet to cover, Filb remarks that as the cryptocurrency market continues to show bullish momentum, shorts will become increasingly under pressure to close. This, coupled with the 0.618 Fibonacci Retracement level of Bitcoin’s $20,000 to $3,150 range, should create upward price pressure.

Related Reading: After Posting Best Monthly Close Since 2017, Bitcoin May be Posed for Significantly Further Gains

Interestingly, some expect for Bitcoin to consolidate much sooner though. Per previous reports from NewsBTC, Mike Novogratz, the chief executive of Galaxy Digital, believes that Bitcoin is likely to consolidate between $7,000 to $10,000. He quipped that “trees don’t grow to the sky”, hinting at his belief that the recent move might be ‘too much, too fast’.

He did note, however, that he could be wrong, noting that there’s sufficient “excitement and momentum”, or FOMO as Fundstrat’s Tom Lee calls it, to propel Bitcoin higher. We will have to see though.

Featured Image from Shutterstock

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[joshuajacksonlyblog]

Crypto Exec: Bitcoin Ready To Blast Past $10,000, Tap $12,000 In 40% Boom

Over the past two months, Bitcoin (BTC) has ripped to the upside, posting an over 100% gain. At the same time, some crypto assets, like Binance Coin (BNB), Litecoin, and Chainlink, have, to put it (not so) lightly, gone to the moon. As Ikigai’s Travis Kling recently pointed out, Bitcoin is up 129% year-to-date, while BNB has seen a jaw-dropping 432% performance, rallying off the exchange’s commitment to building a value proposition for the token.

In any other market, investors would be doing their utmost to secure profits, liquidating their digital asset stashes for fiat. Ironically so, it would be kind of like a bank run, with speculators running for the hills to secure their “lambo money”.

For some reason or another, however, many in the cryptocurrency ecosystem are sure that Bitcoin’s run is just getting started. Crazy, right?

Related Reading: Crypto Tidbits: Bitcoin Taps $9,100, Samsung Pay Could Support Cryptocurrency, Whales Accumulating

Bitcoin Is Ready To Roll

Vinny Lingham, the chief executive of Civic that has been dubbed the “Oracle of Bitcoin” on some occasions, took to Twitter to convey his latest BTC price predictions. In a tweet, the venture capitalist explained that he believes that Bitcoin may soon “blow through $10,000”, to then test $12,000.

This BTC action looks aggressive. Makes me think that we may blow through $10k and test $12k very soon, but $12k is a very heavy resistance level, so I would expect consolidation around the $10k level for some time if $12k is (likely) rejected.

— Vinny Lingham (@VinnyLingham) May 31, 2019

From there, he expects for the crypto market to stagnate, as $12,000 is purportedly a “very heavy resistance level”. Indeed, $12,000 is just about where BTC topped twice in early-2018,  which was when the cryptocurrency market was trying to break from the vise of bears. And more importantly, a collapse under $12,000 is what many believe kicked off 2018’s brutal decline.

Does BTC Have The Chops? 

This begs the question — does Bitcoin even have the legs to pass above $10,000. According to most analysts, it sure does. As Filb Filb explains, 7,300 BTC worth of shorts opened on Bitfinex when Bitcoin was trading between $11,600 and $13,800 levels in early-2018. Assuming that the positions have yet to cover, Filb remarks that as the cryptocurrency market continues to show bullish momentum, shorts will become increasingly under pressure to close. This, coupled with the 0.618 Fibonacci Retracement level of Bitcoin’s $20,000 to $3,150 range, should create upward price pressure.

Related Reading: After Posting Best Monthly Close Since 2017, Bitcoin May be Posed for Significantly Further Gains

Interestingly, some expect for Bitcoin to consolidate much sooner though. Per previous reports from NewsBTC, Mike Novogratz, the chief executive of Galaxy Digital, believes that Bitcoin is likely to consolidate between $7,000 to $10,000. He quipped that “trees don’t grow to the sky”, hinting at his belief that the recent move might be ‘too much, too fast’.

He did note, however, that he could be wrong, noting that there’s sufficient “excitement and momentum”, or FOMO as Fundstrat’s Tom Lee calls it, to propel Bitcoin higher. We will have to see though.

Featured Image from Shutterstock

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[michaelbennettcrypto]

Crypto Exec: Bitcoin Ready To Blast Past $10,000, Tap $12,000 In 40% Boom

Over the past two months, Bitcoin (BTC) has ripped to the upside, posting an over 100% gain. At the same time, some crypto assets, like Binance Coin (BNB), Litecoin, and Chainlink, have, to put it (not so) lightly, gone to the moon. As Ikigai’s Travis Kling recently pointed out, Bitcoin is up 129% year-to-date, while BNB has seen a jaw-dropping 432% performance, rallying off the exchange’s commitment to building a value proposition for the token.

In any other market, investors would be doing their utmost to secure profits, liquidating their digital asset stashes for fiat. Ironically so, it would be kind of like a bank run, with speculators running for the hills to secure their “lambo money”.

For some reason or another, however, many in the cryptocurrency ecosystem are sure that Bitcoin’s run is just getting started. Crazy, right?

Related Reading: Crypto Tidbits: Bitcoin Taps $9,100, Samsung Pay Could Support Cryptocurrency, Whales Accumulating

Bitcoin Is Ready To Roll

Vinny Lingham, the chief executive of Civic that has been dubbed the “Oracle of Bitcoin” on some occasions, took to Twitter to convey his latest BTC price predictions. In a tweet, the venture capitalist explained that he believes that Bitcoin may soon “blow through $10,000”, to then test $12,000.

This BTC action looks aggressive. Makes me think that we may blow through $10k and test $12k very soon, but $12k is a very heavy resistance level, so I would expect consolidation around the $10k level for some time if $12k is (likely) rejected.

— Vinny Lingham (@VinnyLingham) May 31, 2019

From there, he expects for the crypto market to stagnate, as $12,000 is purportedly a “very heavy resistance level”. Indeed, $12,000 is just about where BTC topped twice in early-2018,  which was when the cryptocurrency market was trying to break from the vise of bears. And more importantly, a collapse under $12,000 is what many believe kicked off 2018’s brutal decline.

Does BTC Have The Chops? 

This begs the question — does Bitcoin even have the legs to pass above $10,000. According to most analysts, it sure does. As Filb Filb explains, 7,300 BTC worth of shorts opened on Bitfinex when Bitcoin was trading between $11,600 and $13,800 levels in early-2018. Assuming that the positions have yet to cover, Filb remarks that as the cryptocurrency market continues to show bullish momentum, shorts will become increasingly under pressure to close. This, coupled with the 0.618 Fibonacci Retracement level of Bitcoin’s $20,000 to $3,150 range, should create upward price pressure.

Related Reading: After Posting Best Monthly Close Since 2017, Bitcoin May be Posed for Significantly Further Gains

Interestingly, some expect for Bitcoin to consolidate much sooner though. Per previous reports from NewsBTC, Mike Novogratz, the chief executive of Galaxy Digital, believes that Bitcoin is likely to consolidate between $7,000 to $10,000. He quipped that “trees don’t grow to the sky”, hinting at his belief that the recent move might be ‘too much, too fast’.

He did note, however, that he could be wrong, noting that there’s sufficient “excitement and momentum”, or FOMO as Fundstrat’s Tom Lee calls it, to propel Bitcoin higher. We will have to see though.

Featured Image from Shutterstock

The post Crypto Exec: Bitcoin Ready To Blast Past $10,000, Tap $12,000 In 40% Boom appeared first on NewsBTC.

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