#a lot of tv acting is talking heads but this takes it to another level entirelyits bad !!!!!! sorry !!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crushmeeren · 8 months

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♡ Master List Link

➳ Warnings; Mentions of injuries, Cursing, Kissing, Marijuana Use, Vaginal Sex, Dirty Talk, Squirting, Fem Reader

➳ Or: You just want to spend one more easy night with Dabi before the entirety of Japan goes to hell.

♡ Note; this is a completely re-edited, revised, reworked version of my previous Dabi/Reader — I deleted the previous one.

♡ Touya / Fem Reader

It’s almost funny, you think, as you lean against the wall of the Leagues newest hideout. The reason you were convinced to join the A team in the first place—to go a long with Shigaraki’s convoluted plans.

It wasn’t Stain. Hell, it wasn’t even Shigaraki himself. It sure as fuck wasn’t All for One.

No, it was the scarred, absolutely deranged, blue eyed psycho that has daddy issues. The man who creates flames that burn over 2500 degrees celsius at their hottest, higher than Endeavors. The bastard.

To be fair, you didn’t know he had daddy issues when you saw him on TV for the first time. Yet, you saw the emotion in his eyes. Rage.

It flared, crackling brightly—hotter than the flames he produces himself.

It forced something to melt and seep into your bones, making your skin feel too tight, itchy, in an all too familiar way. You recognized another emotion on his face, one you were well acquainted with. Revenge.

You stopped at nothing to seek him out after that. Inevitably, you found him.

Now here you are, watching Dabi make, what equates to, a self-introduction video.  You’ve heard the story from him multiple times, you’ve seen him make the video over and over again. He’s shared his past and you’ve shared yours. You know people say Dabi may not feel much, hell even he says that. They say he’s heartless, cold, insane.

And—he is, but he’s also much more than that to you.

He’s kind to you, in his own twisted way, but he loves you, as much as he’s able to.

Which compared to “normal people” is actually quite a lot. Some would place him on the level of obsessed, unhealthy.

Although, who are you to judge? You act the exact same way towards him. Both of you would incinerate the world for each other, literally.

You also know he wants this video to be his own version of Dantes Inferno, about his journey navigating through hell since he was a kid.

You’ve had many conversations with Dabi about how much of a toll this takes on him. As if he’s weighted down by concrete tied to his ankles. Usually he gets so worked up that smoke ends up seeping through the seams of his staples by the end of it.

Nevertheless, he’s releasing the video tomorrow—whether it’s time for Shiagaraki to wake the hell up or not. No matter what, it’s going to rock the hero society. It’ll crumble the facade they have worked so hard to maintain. You’re lucky enough to know who he really is, the rest of the league, and the world, doesn’t. Yet.

You’re here for support, to make sure he actually gets the video fucking done, before you’re heading off for the day. Doing some sort of asinine errand for the Doc to help keep Shigaraki’s ass alive while he soaks in that vat.

You already decided that later tonight, you’re going make sure Dabi remembers he’s got you to come home too. No matter what happens after the world sees behind the veil.

After some time, you’re still leaning against the wall on the side of the room. Letting little flames ignite from your fingertips, just playing around, having one flame dance from finger to finger.

It’s another thing that had attracted you to Dabi. Even though flame quirks are a dime a dozen, and his flames burn hotter, it made you feel like you were similar, in a way.

Noticing that he’s stopped talking you look up, putting out the flame with a wave of your hand. You watch him walk to the camera to turn it off.

He was shirtless for the video. It shows off how lean he is, but it also shows all the burn scars that cross his chest and torso, up his neck and under his eyes. His hair is white right now and the staples holding him together shine under the light from overhead.

For a beat you remember how cool they feel pressing against your skin when Dabi pins you face down on the bed.

Your body flushes, warmth churning in your belly.

Being in love with a man like Dabi means he takes up most of the space in your brain, running wildly through your thoughts constantly.

To add on it’s not just Dabi you love, it’s Touya too.

You’re desperately aware of the fact that you’re not doing a very decent job of hiding the way your eyes trail his body when he speaks up. His smooth, smoky voice rumbling from his chest.

“You know, it’s rude to stare baby,” Dabi murmurs, inclining his head slightly to look at you. His gaze is sharp but his lips are pulled into a lazy catlike grin.

Embarrassment shoots through you, burrowing into your cheeks. A swarm of butterflies ravages you.

Using your hands, you set them behind you and you push off the wall, trying to form a response. Nobody else but Dabi makes you act like you’ve swallowed your tongue whole.

“Maybe I just like what I see,” you tease, trying to ignore the obvious flush of your chest and neck. Dabi turns to face you as you walk up to him.

You can’t get over the way he looms over you, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him. The grin never leaves his face. He tugs playfully at a lock of hair that had fallen from your bun, making it seem as if you’ve swallowed cotton balls.

“Oh? You’re one to talk. I could fuck you where you stand and you’d let me,” he flirts, looking oh so casual the whole time.

Dabi twirls the same strand of hair around his finger tightly, before letting it go.

The man radiates fucking heat and it’s a bit like standing too close to a bonfire. It toes the line of too hot, as if your skin would start to melt if you got too close.

Your eyes flutter shut from the familiar warmth, and you taking a deep, steadying breath — willing away the lust that threatens to turn your insides to ash.

You desperately try to remember that now is not the time to let Dabi fuck you silly.

You reluctantly take a step back, only now realizing how close the two of you had gotten. Later, you remind yourself, trying to cool down.

Dabi pushes out his lower lip, pretending to pout.

“Dabi, c’mon, you know I’ve got to go soon. I just wanted to make sure you got this finished today,” you say with hesitation.

Dabi rolls his eyes, no doubt irritated they have you doing bullshit errands. You get it, you feel the same, but you know it’s just less of a hassle to get it done.

It’s not like you don’t want Shigaraki to wake up soon. The crazy, itchy fucker has grown on you.

Besides, you want to get the plan moving and all. Dabi knows this, yet it still pisses him off. He waves a hand dismissively, before turning back to the camera.

“Whatever, go on then,” he bites coldly. Your lips press into a line, the sting of hurt pulsing in your chest briefly.

You shove your hands in your pockets and turn to leave without saying much else. You’re not willing to get into it with him right now, the video has clearly already got him riled up.

Before you can take a step, a blistering palm grabs your forearm, turning you back around. You raise an eyebrow as you meet his intense gaze.

“Yes?” you bite back. Dabi stares down at you, hand trailing down to grip your wrist, wrapping his fingers around as a bracelet. His expression stays sharp, blue eyes piercing.

“Just come back to me tonight, okay?” Dabi demands, an underlying note of concern lacing his tone.

You can’t hold back the smile that pulls at your lips, previous hurt washed away by your adoration for the deranged man in front of you. You nod.

“I will Touya,” you whisper softly.

You tend not to use his real name often, only when you need him to know you’re serious.

It makes his eye twitch, his stomach more often than not twisting in fury when he hears it.

Not with you though. The way his name falls from your lips—he’d be remiss if he didn’t admit it soothes the open wound it’s left behind.

Without another word, Dabi bends down, brushing a kiss over your cheek, letting your wrist go. Your skin tingles where his lips were, the rough texture of his lower one always tickles. You smile softly.

Swiftly you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth in return.

“Love you too, dickhead!” You call out playfully, letting the door swing shut behind you. Dabi scoffs watching you go, but he wears, a small, loving smile at your jab.

He already wishes for the night. As long as can be with you again.

You’re covered in soot and ashes. Smelling like a fucking bonfire gone wrong. The flesh of your hands is singed, stinging, and you curse internally when you curl them into fists.

Generally, it happens when you overuse your quirk. The skin sizzles, steam rising from the reddened flesh. You shake your hands out as you walk, thanking God that it looks worse than it is. It’ll heal relatively quickly.

You’ve managed to procure only a couple bruises though, so you count yourself even luckier. You know Dabi will be fucking pissed either way.

You always have to talk him down from eviscerating the Doc when you wind up coming home banged up from one of his errands.

To top it off, it’s way later than when you normally return from these idiotic missions. It’s well past midnight and you’re sure Dabi is close to committing arson.

The job was a waste of your time. Granted, you admit you may have been a little distracted. You couldn’t stop thinking about the night that lay ahead of you and Dabi.

It’s hard to burn down that many buildings, discreetly, when you’re not focused 100%. You almost got caught at the last building.

Hence the new dark purple splotches covering your left bicep. They throb slightly when you accidentally brush your fingers over them. It’s a miracle you made it out, but you’re not telling Dabi that.

Walking into the front door of the, more or less mansion that is the hideout, you notice it’s quiet in the living room.

None of the usuals that hang out are down here. You look around quickly, thinking maybe you’d catch a glance of Dabi. You scowl when you don’t see his spiky white hair anywhere. You swiped something on the way home, an item that will help the two of you relax. It sits heavy in your back pocket.

You desperately want the two of you to enjoy the night before the world explodes into chaos tomorrow.

You slip your hand into your pocket, just to make sure it’s still there. Your finger tips trace the pre-rolled joints you snagged. You smile coyly to yourself, feeling your heart beat harshly against your rib cage.

A pleasant shiver rolls down your spine as you recall the last time you and Dabi had sex higher than a kite.

Smoking weed isn’t necessarily something you and Dabi do often, but when you get the chance you certainly take advantage of it.

How could you say no? Your body feels relaxed and warm, like your joints are made of butter. The pleasure is always dialed to a 10.

You know Dabi fucking loves it, the one chance he gets to truly relax. You make your way to the stairs as you chew on your bottom lip, mulling over your thoughts.

You’re hoping that once Dabi sees you’re okay, and that you have joints, he won’t be too tempted to set the mansion on fire.

You walk swiftly to your room. You pass by Mr. Compress on the way, the two of you wave in greeting. The sound of your combat boots echo on the wooden floor as you round the corner, stopping at your door.

The door is closed but that’s not unusual. Eagerly, you turn the handle and push open the door. It’s pitch black inside. That…is odd actually. Your grin quickly fades as you step inside, curious, you flip on the low light to the room.

Dabi’s not here. You feel an unwarranted flash of irritation at the realization.

As cliche as it sounds, recently you’ve been finding him playing some sort of game on his desk top computer. You’re not sure he’s ever played one before now and he seems to thoroughly enjoy it. Your chest warms as you think about him getting to experience some sort of normalcy.

However, he’s not at the desk. He’s not anywhere in your room. You shut the door behind you and walk in further. Shoving the feeling of annoyance down your throat, you remind yourself that the villain has got to be somewhere around the hideout.

Hoping he’ll pop up soon you decide it’s best to take a shower. To wash off the layer of disgusting ash you’re covered in.

Setting the joints on your dresser, you strip your nasty clothes off and throw them to the side. You grab one of Dabi’s shirts, one with a skull on it and nothing else before making your way into the en-suite bathroom.

As you stand under the spray of the scalding water, it feels unbelievable. The water acting as a much needed massage for your sore muscles.

You scrub yourself clean, hissing as the soap causes a burning sensation in your hands. You examine the newly pink, sensitive skin of your palms and flex your sore fingers.

The curtain suddenly rips open halfway and you scream loudly, arms flailing wildly. Your head whips to the side, heart in your throat as you see a smug looking Dabi. You place a hand on your chest, pulse thundering.

“You fucking jack ass! You scared the shit out of me! Where the hell have you been?” you shout, angrily flinging water at his face.

Dabi laughs as he brings his hand up in surrender, covering his face from your retaliation. You let out a frustrated noise, quickly turning the water off to face him. You push roughly at his chest, wetting his shirt and he grips the shower curtain with one hand for balance. He’s still fucking laughing.

“I got restless waiting for you. I was with Spinner, who wouldn’t stop yapping about some new video game. I saw Compress and he told me he saw you on your way up. I wanted to fuck with you.” He grins wolfishly, pretending to wipe a fake tear of amusement from his eye. The staples near the corner of his mouth tug at his skin.

You scowl, glaring at him playfully.

“You’re the biggest dick I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting, ya know that?” you chastise him, unable to stop yourself from grinning widely at his relaxed demeanor.

Truthfully, you know nobody else sees this playful side of Dabi. The fact that you’re privy to it, it’s like knowing the world’s greatest secret. You want to put it in a box and keep it safe forever.

“Is that right? And yet, you’re the one who continues to stay with me, princess. I’ve just got you that cock drunk for me, don’t I sweetheart?” You blush violently at his teasing, but there’s absolutely no denying it.

Dabi smirks, taking the chance to let his gaze lazily trail up and down your wet, naked body. Slowly appreciating your form, and biting the tip of his tongue.

You wiggle your eyebrows playfully, popping your hip out, placing your hand there. It pulls an amused laugh from him and he winks at you. The sound of it sets your nerves alight.

Suddenly, you feel Dabi go stock still. The air raises a few degrees as his expression distorts into something feral, his happy mood vanishing.

Your stomach knots up and you shift your weight from foot to foot. You know he’s found the new, rather large, bruises peppering your left bicep. Delicately, he trails his fingers over them with his free hand. You wince.

The sickening scent of burning plastic starts to flood your nose. You glance over, panicking slightly when you see Dabi’s melting the shower curtain in a death grip.

“Touya!” You gasp. “I’m okay, really, I’m fine. Please, look at me baby,” you soothe, gripping his wrist to try and yank him free, but he doesn’t loosen his hold. You place your free hand on his cheek, forcing his manic gaze to meet yours. “It was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention,” you continue in a gentle voice, running your thumb over the scarred flesh under his left eye.

His snowy white eyebrows pinch together, and he lets out a pained sound, hesitantly letting go of the curtain. You swiftly take the opportunity to lace your fingers with his.

You take a peak at the curtain again, noticing a hand print has been permanently melted into it. Touya tugs on your hand harshly, asking for your attention.

He stares intensely at your face, pupils tracking back and forth rapidly, looking wild. When he speaks, it’s as if he’d swallowed a handful of gravel.

“Those goddamn idiots!” He snarls. “Sending you out, letting you get fucked up. If I fucking see that Doc again before Shigaraki wakes up, I’m incinerating him,” he manages to get out through clenched teeth. He’s furious, tone low and menacing.

It definitely does not turn you on.

Touya tangles his fingers through the wet hair at the nape of your neck, squeezing painfully. Your breath catches, scalp tingling.

A torrent of warmth rushes through you, pussy clenching eagerly around air.

It never fails to turn your brain to mush when he’s like this. Protective, possessive. It makes syrupy heat drip down your spine.

You shiver, not just from the chill of being naked, when you realize you’re still dripping wet. Unfortunately, you need a towel.

“I know Touya,” You laugh shakily , wanting to redirect his anger. “ I won’t stop you, promise. Let’s not allow those dumbasses to ruin our night, okay?” You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I brought a surprise for us to share! So can you be a good boyfriend and please hand me a towel?” You plead, looking at him through your lashes.

Touya doesn’t move for a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly as considers your words, before his expression mellows out. He sighs heavily.

Touya releases his grip on your hair, trailing his rough fingers over your jaw and patting your cheek twice softly. He frees your other hand and turns to grab a towel from the cabinet.

You lift up your arms, very relieved, and wiggle your fingers happily as you wait. Touya sweetly wraps the cloth around your back and crosses it over your chest, tucking it into itself so it stays in place. You beam at him, letting your arms fall to hold it in place.

“Fine. You’ve convinced me not to commit murder tonight. Show me the surprise,” Touya concedes, catlike grin settling into his expression once again. You breathe another sigh of relief, stepping out of the shower. You balance with a hand on his arm.

“I got us joints! I figured some good weed would help us relax and,” you trail your finger over his jaw, biting your lip coyly. You lean in, whispering sensually to him. “I was hoping we could have some fun later, if you know what I mean.”

Standing up straight, you smile smugly, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself, watching his reaction. His head tilts back in delighted laughter.

“That’s the best idea you could’ve had. Let’s go get high out of our minds baby, and then I’ll fuck you into the mattress,” he purrs, grabbing the shirt you left to change into and tugging you along out of the bathroom.

You watch his lean frame from behind, admiring him as he walks. Your man is stupid hot, and you don’t just mean literally.

Once you’re near the bed the two of you release each other. He hands you your shirt and you let your towel unwind, tossing it to the side.

Touya’s hand comes out of nowhere to roughly smack your bare ass. The pain flares, making you yelp.

“Touya!” You scold. “Fuck off for a second will you?” you joke. “Let me at least put my shirt on.” You slip the clothing over your head as you speak, gathering your wet hair into a braid.

Touya snorts. You look at him with a raised brow as he’s taking his own clothes off. Your eyes linger for a moment on the V shape that disappears into his underwear. He winks at you in return when he catches your stare, but you just roll your eyes.

“Why are you even putting clothes on? You know I’m just going to get you naked later,” Touya complains as he crawls onto your shared bed. He leans his back against the headboard. Touya looks at you expectantly, patting the spot next to him as he shoves his long, pale legs under the blanket.

“Yes I know, but I still get cold sometimes, plus I like this shirt, it’s soft,” you reply, picking up the joints from your dresser, turning the overhead light off, and shimmying up the bed to him.

You make it a point to sit so your thigh and arm are squished against his as you recline next him. You use a pillow to support your lower back.

“You know I can keep you just as warm baby,” Touya coos, pulling up the soft fuzzy blanket that covers your bed so you can get your own legs underneath. He lets it rest at your waist.

Touya gently warms the space beneath and you swallow a moan. It feels amazing. Turning your head to look at him, you smile lazily. He wiggles his eyebrows as you hold up a joint to him, urging him to light it.

“I know, and later on you’re gonna make me sweat,” you tease, watching as he smirks.

He doesn’t even pay attention as he uses his finger to light the joint. A little blue flame that instantly eats the paper, setting it alight.

You kiss his cheek in thanks, selfishly taking the first drag. Fuck, it tastes like heaven. A twisted version of lemon flavor bursts across your tongue. It’s sweet, but also bitter.

You let the smoke swirl in your lungs while you hold your breath. Letting it out in a long exhale, the smoke ghosts across Touya’s face. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, groaning as he breathes out.

After a joint and a half in, you’re feeling the perfect level of high. You’re leaning your head on Touya’s shoulder, studying your fingertips.

You’re something akin to the warm butter that melts on top of pancakes. Your head feels fuzzy and you know Touya is in the clouds.

”Baby,” Touya softly calls for you, smooth like whiskey. His honeyed voice sends a shiver down your spine. Your head feels heavy when you lift it, looking at him with a dopey grin.

“Hmm?” you try to ask. Managing to giggle in response. He tilts his head down towards you. He’s wearing a matching lazy grin, his eyes half-lidded.

“Let me shot gun that pretty mouth,” he murmurs, taking the last large inhale from the joint. He holds his breath and puts out the joint on his palm, laying the roach on the bedside table.

You nod happily, stomach unbearably warm as you lean towards him. You let your mouth fall open obediently.

Touya looks sly, meeting you halfway. His different textured lips pressing to yours easily, slightly opened as he slowly pushes the smoke out of his lungs and into your mouth.

Your eyes flutter closed as the tendrils of smoke roll into your mouth. It makes you feel a bit feverish and everything feels like it’s rolling in slow motion.

You inhale equally as slow, taking your time, pulling it into your lungs. It makes you feel dizzy. You hold it for a moment, until your chest starts to burn and then you break from the kiss.

Turning your head minutely, you let it all out in one breath. Your tongue slips out to lick your lower lip, the aftertaste from the joint making your mouth water.

You slide your gaze to Touya’s. He brings his hand up, letting his fingers rest on your jaw as he runs a thumb over the lip you just licked. His eyes burn with a low heat, like embers.

“Feeling high princess?” he whispers, leaning a bit closer, lips only a couple centimeters from yours. He’s gentle, holding your jaw, fingers pressing in on both sides now.

Your eyes are lidded and it feels like his rich voice physically melts through your skin, into your veins. You admire how pretty his face is, feeling your pussy throb. You bite your lip and nod, tickling a hand over his collarbone. He shivers.

“So high,” you giggle and whisper your next sentence, as if you’re telling him a secret. “Will you fuck me now Touya?”

Touya’s fingers twitch before they slide down to wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly. The staples on his wrist scratch at your neck. He’s studying your face, letting his lips pull into a wicked grin as he inches forward, brushing his mouth against yours.

“With pleasure baby girl,” he rumbles, pressing the words into your lips. You moan into his mouth, kissing him slowly over and over.

You’re just starting to lick into his mouth when he puts pressure on your windpipe and you get the message, breaking the kiss with a whine.

He laughs softly as he releases your neck and you shift until you’re lying down flat on the bed, head resting on the pillow.

The change in position makes the room spin and you blink your eyes slowly. You’ve planted your feet on the bed, letting your legs fall open. Moving around makes your shirt rise up to your hips, slick pussy on display for Touya.

You’re vaguely aware of how wet you already are, and it’s too hot in the room, your face heats again and sweat trails down your temple.

The only light in the room is from the TV you had turned on absently. Yet, you can still see Touya’s chest. He has his own light sheen of sweat covering his skin, nipples stiff and perky.

The white haired man maneuvers to get in between your thighs. He sits back on his calves, palms resting on the tops of your knees as he takes a look at your soft pussy.

The sight makes his cock ache, straining to be free from his briefs. He feels his tip positively leaking, sticking to the soft material.

“C‘mere Touya,” you whine softly, reaching your arms out for him. His expression is relaxed, loving as he bends to your will, resting his forearms on either side of your head.

You wind your arms around his neck, pulling him down into another kiss. Your lips slide together eagerly, the heat between you blazing.

His bottom lip is rough but the texture makes you moan every time. He easily slips his tongue inside your mouth, rolling them together, and you bite the delicate muscle briefly.

A husky moan pushes past his lips, causing him to break the kiss.

“Goddammit baby, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he groans, voice wrecked as he sucks dark marks in a line up your neck, gripping the hem of your shirt.

“Please,” you beg, the word sticking to the roof of your mouth. Touya doesn’t hesitate, sitting back momentarily to free you of your shirt, throwing it somewhere behind him.

The air brings a slight chill, making your nipples harden. Goosebumps erupt along your chest and you whine. Touya rests his hands on your soft belly, dick jumping, drooling as he takes in your naked body. His large, warm palms cover most of the skin there, fingers splayed on your ribs.

His eyes are red and glossy as they trail over your tits, noticing your nipples are pretty little pebbles. God, he’s so hard he could cut diamonds.

He quickly shoves his underwear off, the urge to be naked swallowing him whole. His cock bobs free as it catches on the waistband of his briefs. You watch, catching sight of the curly white hair resting just above the base.

He settles again between your legs, gripping his shaft and squeezing briefly for some relief. His own touch feels electric and he moans through his teeth. He knows you’ll feel a thousand times better than his hand.

He’s quick to swipe his thumb between your pussy lips, parting them as he drags it up to your clit, starting to massage slow circles there.

You choke on an inhale, head feeling heavy. Your limbs feel like jello, warmth flowing through you. You hum, reaching out to wrap a hand around the silky smooth skin of his shaft. He lets out a broken moan when you pump his cock, letting his foreskin pull back.

“Touya, c’mon, pretty please? Don’t wanna wait,” you say with breathy sigh. You keep stroking his cock, twisting your wrist upwards and he groans again, sounding breathless.

“You don’t have to ask me twice baby, you know how much I love fucking you,” he purrs, looking exactly like the Cheshire Cat.

He places a hand on each of your inner thighs, spreading you open a little more. You tilt your hips up a little, so you can guide his thick cock inside of you. You tease yourself, sliding his tip over your swollen clit. You let out a low curse as it sends electricity up your spine.

A short whine slips through Touya’s lips as the head of his cock presses in smoothly. Removing your hand, you give him the reigns to do the rest as he stretches your pussy completely. You tilt your head back on the pillow as you start clenching around him.

“Oh,” you say as if you’ve been sucker punched. “Touya, you feel so good!” you cry out, thoughts disjointed. You tremble at the overwhelming pleasure, white knuckling the pillow under you.

You’re sure you could cum just from the stretch of his cock alone, your sensitivity at an all time high. You chance a look at your boyfriend, panting.

His eyebrows are scrunched and he’s gritting his teeth, eyes locked on where he’s disappeared inside you. Warm pussy wrapped around him perfectly.

“Shit,” he curses lowly. “You’re so fucking tight,” he laughs incredulously rocking his hips shallowly.

His own mind is fuzzy, body high so intense he could sob. You lay there and take it beautifully as he starts to fuck you for real, slow and deep.

Your limbs are like lead, and you’ve all but become one with the mattress, the pleasure all you can focus on. The sound of your skin smacking together makes your ears burn. You’re watching the way his fingers grip your thighs, the way the muscles in his lower abdomen flex with every thrust.

“You’re so fucking hot Touya, God - I can’t,” you all but sob. You can’t focus on anything else but the way his cock drags in and out of your pussy. Touya hums softly and leans forward, bracing his hands on the bed, caging you between. You look up at him through your lashes.

“What do you want baby? Hmm? Tell me,” he pants, voice smoldering. Your entire body flushes even hotter. Quirk raising up just below your skin and you keep your hands from the sheets for fear of turning them to ash.

Letting out a low moan, you grip his forearms, he can take the heat of your quirk. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when your scalding palms make contact with his skin.

You’re able to keep it under control for now. You take note of the way your tits bounce with each of his thrusts. He watches them, eyes almost unfocused, unfazed by the blistering heat of your palms, before his gaze locks with yours when you start to speak.

“Want you to fuck me from behind, please,” you mumble, words blending together as you try to keep your eyes open. The pleasure is making your brain feel thick.

“Fuck yes, turn that pretty ass around,” he agrees, leaning back and pulling his cock free. It bounces slightly and you notice he’s glistening from your slick, notching your arousal up by a few degrees.

You don’t waste a second, rolling over onto your belly. The sensation of moving underwater is what you would compare it to.

You raise up on your knees, showing off the curve of your spine as you rest your cheek on the mattress below. The sheets are soft, caressing your skin as you nuzzle against it, distractedly.

You’re gripping the sheets by your head when you feel Touya’s palm crack harshly against your ass,forcing you to jolt forward.

“Ah!” You whine into the sheets. He must’ve heated his hand, because you can feel your ass almost blistering from where he spanked you.

You assume that’s some sort of revenge from what you did to his forearms earlier. Not that it matters, the pain and pleasure mix together even better.

“Look at you, so obedient. You want me to fuck you like a dog, don’t you?” He teases, words sitting heavy on his tongue.

He grips the base of his cock and rubs the head between your lips, parting them easily.

You open your mouth to answer but you’re cut off. He’s already bullying his way back into you without abandon.

Touya grips your hips tight enough you worry he’s gripping the bone. His cock throbs, your pussy feels tighter this way.

It’s making his head spin, watching himself pull out, cock shiny and slick, before filling you once again. His heart thumps hard in his rib cage, thinking about just how much he fucking loves you.

“Oh god.” You shove your face into the mattress as Touya starts to move hard and fast. His cock filling you out perfectly with each thrust.

The friction is blistering, pleasure burning through your limbs. He presses his hands into your lower back, pushing the arch in your spine to its breaking point and he uses his weight to fuck you.

His cock bullies your sweet spot again and again, ripping muffled screams from your throat and into the mattress.

You’re starting to squirm under him, overly sensitive while he pushes you closer to your peak. You unconsciously try to crawl away from him, but he notices. You’ve started to fist the sheets again, for any kind of leverage.

“That’s the spot, isn’t baby? You’re so cute, trying to crawl away from me. You’re not fucking going anywhere. Be good, baby girl,” he demands, huffing lightly. He leans forward to brace one hand on the back of your neck, pinning you down.

He lets his other hand rest on the middle of your lower back, pressing down there too. How you’re able to keep your knees under you is beyond you. The first heavy thrust after that has you wailing, eyes stinging with tears.

“Fuck! Touya, right there, don’t stop,” you beg, feeling small underneath him. The pleasure is overwhelming. It’s not long at all before a knot starts to wind up taught in your lower abdomen, and you struggle to try and warn him.

“Go ahead princess, I’ve got you. Cum for me, I want to feel it,” Touya purrs, bending forward to brace one hand by your head. The other still pining you down by the back of the neck.

The staples adorning his wrist feel cold against your overheated flesh. Oddly enough, the difference in temperature is what pushes you over the edge.

You cum, brutally. Pussy fluttering, gripping Touya so tight you can’t believe he’s still sliding in and out of you. Heat gushes through you in waves, curling your toes.

“Oh!” you gasp, a pressure building in your bladder. “You’re gonna make me squirt,” you say in surprise. Fingernails bite into your skin, warm breath is against your ear.

“Then fucking do it baby,” he breathes, never slowing his pace. A thrill runs through you, fingers curling in the sheets.

Pleasure ripples through you as you squirt. Soaking the sheets and Touya’s inner thighs. Your mouth stays open in a silent scream.

Touya moans in your ear, whispering words of encouragement as he works you through it. You notice his cock start to twitch inside you as you come down from your high.

Touya murmurs sweet nothings against your ear, letting you know he’s about to cum.

You tell him just how much you want it, how much you need to him to fill you up—and he does just that. Pressing all the way in until his balls fit snugly against your pussy.   Touya cums with a noise that sounds like it’s been punched from his chest. Panting as he nudges your knees out from you, so you both collapse to the mattress.

You both catch you breath for a moment, Touya letting himself go soft before he makes a move to pull out.   Touya rolls off you gently, onto his back. You breathe a sigh of relief, turning your head to see if his face.

“Are you okay?” he asks, cheeks flushed from the strenuous movements.

“I’m great,” you laugh, poking his ribs. He chuckles, giving you a half smile. “Can you get me a towel? Seeing as it’s your fault I’m a mess now,” you tease. Touya rolls his eyes playfully.

You flip over onto your back as retreats to get a towel, returning swiftly.

”Thank you,” you hum, cleaning yourself the best you can, not bothering to put clothes back on as you get under the blankets.

You sigh happily, turning on your side as the bed dips. Touya settles down facing you, snaking an arm around your waist to tug you closer.

“I love you,” you whisper, trailing your fingers down the side of his face, stopping to press on one of his staples under his eye.   “I love you,” he replies, just as softly.

”I’ll follow you to hell, you know that, right?” You say, raising an eyebrow. He sighs, leaning forward to brush a kiss over your forehead.

“I know. I’ll incinerate the world for you, you know that, right?” He teases, placing his forehead on yours. You laugh gently, nodding as you kiss him once more.

#dabi smut #dabi x reader #mha smut #touya smut #todoroki touya x reader #touya x reader #todoroki touya smut #todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #mha x reader #mha dabi #mha todoroki #dividers by cafekitsune

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weebsinstash · 11 months

Text

He's not in the show yet but as a comic reader I've been thinking a lot about how ABSOLUTELY AWFUL it would be to be a human captive of the Viltrumites and, forget Mark, forget Nolan, those two would not even compare because THRAGG is the real mf you don't want to be yandere for you

I was sitting and thinking about it and like. Just. Imagine being in a relationship or platonic yandere situationship with the Grayson family and then, boom, the invasion happens. You're just a helpless little human and Nolan traps you away to keep you safe while everything you've ever known and loved is taken from you. By the time you're "let out" the Earth and most of its major cities have been all but razed and Viltrumites and their construction drones are EVERYWHERE, rebuilding what was broken, essentially erasing the history of humanity

You're now a "registered human" under the official Viltrumite occupation of Earth. You have to wear an identification badge that can be scanned to identify you, to designate which Viltrumite you belong to, like some cat with a collar tag, and it also tracks your location at all times. Humans have extremely limited rights, and Nolan and Mark heavily restrict which other humans you can interact with because the occupying forces don't want some kind of rebellion (mostly though Mark and Nolan just couldn't risk any dumb humans putting any silly ideas in your head and getting you hurt when this life is good for you after all :( and what if some nasty little rebel tried to kiss you--)

But I just. I just picture Reader being Nolan's mate and at some point, you're sitting in your completely Viltrum-constructed home with Viltrum robots and androids that cook and clean and do everything for you and completely take away all your usefulness and agency for yourself when, someone comes to visit. Another Viltrumite you recognize from the broadcasts on TV. All you understand is that he's Nolan's boss on some level or another, and he came to speak with Nolan, but since the man isn't here, all his questions are directed to you

Can you even imagine you're like sitting there already suicidal and in comes Thragg asking why you aren't pregnant yet, like literally wanting actual fucking details about why you haven't bore a single child despite being with Nolan for a few years. I'm talking complete dehumanization as Thragg is asking you TO YOUR FACE how often you're having sex with Nolan, which positions, what do you do in bed, acting like you're doing something wrong. He asks what you do after mating and you just kind of start to reply and he sort of smirks, "you can still walk afterward?" And he seems grossly smug about it, but, this is a very threatening conversation to you. You have a man who could reduce you to paste at any moment and completely take away any luxury or privilege you and Nolan have and he's asking you extremely intimate questions you have to answer through ground teeth and at some point I'm sure he starts on about, "your duty as a woman"

Nolan comes home completely unaware that Thragg has been there and you're still sobbing on your hands and knees as you literally scrub the spotless floors by hand because Thragg told you what a submissive little servant you're expected to be as a lowly human woman and Nolan is trying to comfort you and your hands and fingers are literally pruning from cleaner as you keep crying and refuse to stop "because it's not good enough, it's not good enough"

At some point Nolan and Thragg get into it. Nolan is sent off on some mission that he very slightly underperformed on, or maybe he actually made a really huge tactical error, and here's Thragg, deciding to punish Nolan by. Taking you. Just straight up taking you away from Nolan like you're some kind of privilege he has been allowed and YEAH it is to be a servant/mate for Thragg himself. And Nolan makes a big fuss about how he's one of the ones who helped even conquer this damn rock, how dare the Grand Regent take his mate, but Thragg doesn't care and even if other Viltrumites who serve under him disagree, as you know he rules with such an iron fist that none dare to speak up

Can you even imagine you were with Nolan for like 5 years overall with never so much as a pregnancy scare and Thragg has you for like two months and boom, you're pregnant, in fact you're INSANELY pregnant, you've got TWINS, and for you noncomic readers, Viltrumite DNA is literally so aggressive that twins are literally quite literally unheard of because they cannibalize in the womb or only the strongest lives so, now you've presented Thragg with these nice shiny new little trophies he can self aggrandize over. The first Viltrumite twins in the entire history of their culture, and they're Thragg's

(Something something "what if thragg was having birth control put in your food so you wouldn't become pregnant by Nolan before he could manufacture an excuse to take you for himself" something something)

I also think like. Thragg had the twins in the comics, Ursaal and Onaan, so like. What if he already had the twins when you're taken from Nolan and you give him TRIPLETS. Like. Jesus not only is your fate sealed, you're going in the goddamn Viltrum history books as some sort of magical womb the oh so virile Grand Regent Thragg managed to conquer for himself idk 🙄🙄🙄

But I think it's just the concept of. Such a monstrously violent and cold dude realizing he has uncontrollable feelings for you and they're like FEELINGS FEELINGS, but he literally doesn't know how to act so he's being. Like. Kind of just blatantly shitty and abusive most of the time. You give him any lip and he's got his hands on your throat and threatening you but internally he's like. Turned on by your spice. He wishes you were a Viltrumite so he could be rougher with you. You two have a rare argument where you get those oh so rarely seen guts to talk down to him and later that night he's putting you in your place underneath him fucking you like he's trying to get another brood of children out of you

Think of just the little ways he could show affection which is completely foreign to him and he like doesn't even realize his own behavior and is rationalizing it as something else. He sees you talking to Ursaal one day, combing her hair, telling her that she could potentially consider cutting her hair as males tend to grab it as a battle tactic and he feels a little warmth in his chest as Ursaal dutifully nods "Yes Mother" and Onaan is lurking around the corner, jealous. Thragg forces you to make public appearances with him and you learn how to temper your emotions better, and you'll be brought along to school functions for the children, like Thragg smirking internally as you scold Onaan that he lost a scheduled fight because he's arrogant and wasn't properly paying attention to his opponents

You're forcibly assimilated deeper into Viltrumite culture, but you're also humanizing the Viltrumites you interact with. Ursaal and Onaan realize that they deeply desire more affection and support as children and become fiercely protective of you because you actually treat them with kindness. Thragg can act indifferent to you at best but one day you realize that you have significantly more privileges as his mate than Nolan's and you march off to Thragg's place of work because maybe the twins wanted you to see where they work with their father and you're brought into Thragg's office and he's as stonefaced as ever while you're like. Surrounded by photos of yourself just all over the place. The one on his desk directly in front of him isn't even one of you smiling, it's you scowling with a glare and looking pissed and apparently that one is his favorite. And Thragg is like not even bothered by you seeing all these photos, and his kids are just completely nonchalant like this is all totally normal, "oh, Father, you had a memorial photo made from where you and Mother visited my school, I like this one--" as if these uh collages have been up for quite some time, some maybe even taken from security cameras from your time with Nolan--

I just picture like. Can you imagine the triplet scenario and you wind up giving Thragg Mark, Ursaal, and Onaan, and you bond more with Mark as a late bloomer and the one who is the most human and his siblings are getting monstrously jealous and Thragg doesn't want his legacy tied to a weak powerless Viltrumite, like this man would rather have Mark be dead than not have powers, and Thragg is trying to force you and Mark apart. Can you even conceive like, being a mom and you walk into the room and your son is being absolutely brutalized by his father who is convinced he is hiding his powers or something and you have to shield your own son from his father before he kills him. Could you EVEN IMAGINE Thragg going to throw Mark off of whatever cyberpunk skyscraper nightmare you're living in because he's convinced the panic will make his boy finally learn how to fly and you have to watch as he just drops your (favorite) child off the building and Mark ... never comes back up. Thragg just sees how absolutely devastated you are and convinces himself it's because you're emotional and weak and just casually, "we can make another" (although I imagine in this scenario Mark was saved by Nolan and the two train and eventually basically spearhead a rebellion against Thragg and his empire and rescue you and restore Earth, but, whatever lmao)

I feel like as a general thing, yandere Thragg would often indulge in and enjoy the fact you couldn't deny him sex, because even if you try to deny him, what are you gonna do, overpower him? So he uses it to assert control over you. You snap at him or mouth off, you're getting railed that night to remind you how powerless you are, that you're still his mate. You two have a nasty fight where you legitimately manage to wound his pride, you're getting fucked near unconscious and you're essentially "grounded" for the next few days if not weeks where you aren't allowed to leave your home (maaaaybe because you've managed to make him insecure that his little mate doesn't like him 👉👈 he can't have anyone else steal you away, not when you're making him feel all these powerful emotions he doesn't even know what to call)

You're not even aware of it but the surveillance systems in your home are being CONSTANTLY tuned into all the time, if not by him, then by his own children who are tasked with watching you. I also feel like having the kids on the mix kind of makes everything kind of grotesque. Like imagine you just wake up and you're going by your business one day and you walk into the room and Thragg has your like 5 year old toddlers gathered around a table with knives and weapons on it and you hear little Mark say, "all these things can hurt Mom?" "They can" "even though they're so soft?" "Only to Viltrumites like us" "Mother is really that... weak?" And you realize Thragg is turning your own children into weapons to use against you, watch you, report back to him, because... your kids aren't like you. They're Viltrumites like him and he'll be damned if you make them 'too soft'

But I imagine a day comes when he's forced to at least semi-confront these feelings. Ursaal and Onaan are dedicated little soldiers to him, but also seem to respect your authority as their mother, something Thragg also sometimes encourages (since your "rank" as their mother earns a certain degree of respect and he's trying to teach them to respect the chain of command, even if you are a soft human). Ursaal and Onaan take a mission to another planet with their father and they return and Onaan has a gift for you, an alien flower he thought you might like, something he took without telling his father, but. He doesn't realize there's something wrong with it, something that wouldnt bother a Viltrumite but would definitely harm a human. The second you touch the plant, the second some of its pollen touches your akin, enters your lungs, you start becoming ill, very, very, very ill.

Thragg is trying to tell himself you're just another mate to him, just another bearer of his many many many children that he has no emotional attachments to, but the second he receives word that you might ACTUALLY BE DYING like genuinely actually fucking dying, there's no hesitation. The next time you open your eyes, you're in a Viltrum-run hospital in a lavish sanitized room receiving ONLY the best of care as Thragg is sitting in a chair beside your bed staring directly at you as if he had been staring at your unconscious body perhaps the entire time you were asleep. There's almost a visible relaxation of his posture as you're able to hold a conversation with him, but, his voice is, lowered but firm as he tells you you have yet to fully recover, that you're in isolation to reduce the risk of foreign pathogens. He feels the need to tell you in detail how severely Onaan was beaten for almost costing you your life, almost as if he's seeking your approval, some sort of forgiveness. You ask him how long he's been sitting there and he just deflects and tells you you're still too weak to hold a conversation and to conserve your strength, that the two of you can speak later.

Once you've recovered, it doesn't even seem like he's that interested in sex anymore, but the notoriously sturdy Viltrumite is suddenly returning home much more often now, if only to hold you as you sleep in the marital bed you share with him....

I guess as one final, final suggestion, I can't get over like. Is there an upper limit on the whole "oh you had Viltrum DNA but it just didn't kick in yet" thing. Could you imagine like, once the Viltrum invasion has begun and you're "acquired" for either Nolan or Thragg or whomever, you're scanned or whatever by Viltrum tech and they're like "oh hey what up, Viltrumite DNA detected? Dope?" And maybe it could even be "weak" like from a grandparent or something but, it inevitably "kicks in" and now you have to confront all the new caveats this brings with you. You're expected to live as a Viltrumite now. Maybe Thragg seems to find you a little less pathetic and personally wants to train you himself because he doesn't want the most publicly visible and famous of his mates to be weak. Also just maybe he's glad he can have rougher sex with you. I can just imagine he's forcing you two to have some sort of spar amd you have some sort of natural aptitude or higher than average strength and you wind up really giving him at least ONE really good fucking punch to the face and he's wrestling you down, pinning you down and forcing a kiss onto you as the blood from his broken nose drips onto both of your faces, like

Yeah, anyways I have normal feelings about this series tee hee 😘

#yandere invincible #yandere thragg #yandere x reader #sinprompts

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gojos-thot-patrol · 2 years

Note

I know Sukuna is already kind of yandere but do you have any jjk dude yandere HCs?

I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE. TURN IT UUUPP!!

Now Presenting...

Starring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and Ryomen Sukuna

Satoru Gojo

Yandere Gojo is the type of Yandere to be in heavy denial of it

No, he's not obsessed with his darling! Don't be absurd!

He just feels an unbridled rage whenever he sees them talking to anyone else. He just feels the overwhelming need to protect them. He just doesn't want anyone else to ever touch them ever. He's not obsessed

He's the jealous type. Don't let him catch you flirting with someone else, he'll send their head back to their family as the centerpiece of a floral arrangement

But, he's also extremely good at hiding all of this. You think he's just a normal kinda goofy guy.

He invites you to stay the night for one night . Then asks you again. And again. And eventually, he stops asking

Hey, isn't it weird he knew what shampoo you use without having to ask? Crazy

Gojo is the type that just wants his darling's love and affection. He's willing to do anything to get it.

You don't even realize you're his captive tbh. You find it a little weird that he's literally always by your side and won't let you go out alone. But that's normal relationship stuff, right?

The only way to make him hurt you is by trying to leave him. At that point, you've lost leg privileges.

And of course he's crying and apologetic, begging you to forgive him after. But like, he still broke your fuckin legs

And you notice that the front door has a padlock on it now. One you don't have the key to. Door has a lot of locks now actually. And your phone is missing. Oh no.

He still swears he's not obsessed btw. He's just protective

So protective his own son (Megumi) can't even be around you. In fact, he doesn't even know about you.

In conclusion: there are worse yanderes, but I sincerely hope your legs recover well

Suguru Geto

Is crazy and he knows it.

He knows he doesn't feel love the way a "normal" person does. He feels obsession. And honestly, he's ok with that!

You're the first person to take his obsession to this level though. He's never felt anything this strongly. How exciting!

Suguru is the type of yandere to kill your SO and frame your best friend. Fuck all of those who are close to you, he hates them. He wants to be the only shoulder you cry on.

He doesn't try to hide the fact he's kidnapping you either

You try to leave after spending the night with him ONCE and he's just like "Where do you think you're going Darling?"

You have no rights. You're not leaving his house, with or without him.

He’s jealous to the point that the thought of another guy even seeing you makes his skin crawl, no you can’t go to walmart!

The scary part is that he knows what he’s doing isn’t ok. He knows it’s not normal, he knows it won’t earn your love. Quite the contrary, he knows it only earns him your ire. But, he doesn’t care.

He just wants to be close to you. He doesn’t need you to love him. If you do get Stockholm Syndrome that's great but it’s not his end goal.

His end goal is to possess you. Which, he now does! Score! Everything else is just a bonus

All of that being said, as long as you stay in his good graces, he would want you to be comfortable. He doesn’t cherish the thought of you being sad (unless you piss him off) so he does spoil you just a bit.

Like, you’re not getting electronics or anything (beyond maybe a tv) but he would make your favorite foods, or make sure you have a comfy bed and nice clothes ect.

Again, all of that is contingent on you being a good little darling for him. Act out and he has no problem putting you in your place. (he’s not nearly as bad as Sukuna though..)

In conclusion: We’ll miss you bestie

Kento Nanami

The term “casually obsessed” comes to mind

It’s little things he does. Like leaning in a little too close when he helps you with something on your computer, or looking a little bit too agitated when you start talking about your new SO.

He’s not going to dirty his own hands to get rid of your other romantic interests. Who do you think he is, Gojo? Nay nay.

He has other, arguably more violent, ways to make people he doesn’t like go away. Not that you would ever know.

To you Nanami is gentle and kind, if not a little bit over protective. To everyone else, he’s a cold asshole who's not above passive aggressive insults.

Even when he eventually kidnaps you, he manages to use an injury as an excuse to get you to come stay with him. So he can take care of you! No other reasons, obviously.

But, even after the injury heals it seems he always has another excuse as to why you can’t go. There’s always another threat, some danger only he can protect you from.

He talks so rationally and calmly it’s hard to think of anything he says as anything other than fact. You also start to get anxious to leave without him. He’s filled your mind with all the horrible things the world has instore for you, you don’t want to be in the world anymore. That’s when he knows he’s won.

Nanami isn’t going to hurt you, ever. But, he will give you the silent treatment. Or quietly take away your comforts that he’s allowed you. Or, if you really fucked up, threaten to kick you out. And just how long do you think you’ll last without him?

Genuinely Nanami is so good at this whole manipulation thing, he doesn’t have to worry about you trying to escape. Why would you? The world is scary and wants to hurt you. Need proof? Look at your previous injury.

Nanami has made your mind a waking hell where he is the only bastion of hope. A prison where his conjugal visits are the only thing keeping you going. You’re actually more anxious when you can’t see him because what if something happens? He can’t save you.

For this reason alone Nanami is the scariest/most fucked up Yandere here cause HOMIE. HE TOOK YOUR FUCKING MIND AWAY FROM YOU, LIKE, WHAT-

Imagine having Kento Nanami fuck you up so bad you’re cool with being kidnapped. Couldn't be me.

….That’s a lie it could definitely be me.

In conclusion: He took a perfectly good darling and gave em anxiety!

Ryomen Sukuna

Can you hear it, Reader? Can you hear the maniacal laughter? This man is a demon. Literally.

Sukuna is not as self aware as Geto is, he thinks his obsession is love and he defines love as possession. He needs to own you. The universe would feel deeply wrong and disjointed to him until he has you locked away in his temple with a pretty collar around your neck. I’m so serious.

The other guys like, wait for a reasonable time to kidnap you, or for a convenient excuse to get you to their house. Ryomen finds that pathetic. The moment he comes to terms with his feelings for you, he’s grabbing you. Doesn’t matter if it's in the middle of the day with 1000 witnesses and you’re kicking and screaming, to the temple with you.

This is probably around the time you find out why your dating life has been so, well…bloody. He’s been slaughtering them. Look! He even used their bones to make a throne for you, just like his! He is so good at this boyfriend thing.

Why was he killing them before he even was fully aware he wanted you? For fun. Duh. What else would he do with his Saturday nights?

Genuinely is a little confused when you don’t love him. Did he fuck up the courting ritual or something? He’s unbothered by it though. He doesn’t need you to love him, right now. You’d learn with time, one way or another.

I should say Yandere Sukuna als views love as devotion. It’s why he does need you to love him eventually, he needs you to be as devoted to him as he is to you. He’s giving up a lot of himself to be your boyfriend, couldn't you try to be a little more understanding of his feelings in this?

Don’t worry about seeing your family again. He noticed you getting depressed when you started to miss them. So he disposed of them. No, he will not elaborate on what that means. You both already know.

Please please please, don’t piss him off. I’m begging you. Sukuna is not above any form of physical violence to put you in your place.

That includes leg removal if you try to escape. No I did not say break, I said Removal Ryomen Sukuna does not fuck around.

At first, you’re going to think he fucking hates you ngl. You’re going to be CONVINCED he only kidnapped you to piss someone else off, not for himself. Because he’s either mean, dismissive, or violent to you.

It’s not until you’ve been in his possession for a minute and get to know him that you realize “Oh shit, this is his form of love.” When you notice that he doesn’t strike you without reason like he does with literally everyone and anything else. That he actually listens when you talk, no matter how passively. That he treats you like a living thing. A pet, yes, but still a living thing.

Honestly I always imagine Sukunas temple being in the middle of nowhere, so you weirdly enough have more privileges with him than some of the others. Like, you have access to the temple's garden and such.

That's about as far as comfort goes at the temple though. It's always cold and impersonal, and just because you can identify Sukunas, and I put heavy quotations around this, “love” doesn’t mean it feels like love. Yea, the creature comforts and spoils of the temple are nice but, it’s not human connection. You’re gonna have to play Ryomens game for that.

In conclusion: You were warned bestie, I keep saying this man is Chernobyl level toxic.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere gojo #yandere sukuna #yandere geto #yandere nanami #nanami x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #sukuna x reader #satoru gojo #suguru geto #nanami kento #ryomen sukuna #yandere x darling

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raspbeyes · 1 year

Text

my v3 pregame hcs

another quick one while my wrist still dies

Kaede Akamatsu - A popular girl who conceals her more cynical side. Her classmates adore her for her confident and extraverted personality, and can motivate anyone to follow her strong and calm leadership. However, what people dont notice behind her level-headed fascade is that she is quite dubious and suspicious of others, often trying to find the true hidden despair humanity has so she can never be blind sighted by any harm

Shuichi Saihara - Known online as one of the most deductive arg detective, in real life, shuichi is nothing more than a danganronpa obsessed fan boy. Though a sweet albeit very awkward person, he can get a bit obssessive about talking about danganronpa, leaving non fans speechless by how much a nobody like him can talk abt the topic. He's intrigued by the thrill of murder mysteries danganronpa provides, and tries to apply said detective skills with args he finds online

Kaito Momota - The bully with a smile, Kaito has an odd reputation. Not outright aggressive, but definitely your average jock kind of character who would get violent if push comes to shove. But usually, he gives off a laid back attitude around his friends, which somehow makes him more formidable somehow with how confident he is. But behind the manly exterior, Kaito secretly wishes to find a true passion in life, fearing he is doomed to be nothing more than a high school has-been

Rantaro Amami - Returning after his successful run of season 52, Rantaro is a world wide celebrity for his heroic sacrafice in the final trial. But, he has no recollection of it, nor does he want to see any of the footage of the game. He is far more drained, tired of the constant media attention following him and talking about events he cannot even remember. Compared to his considerate pre-52 self, Rantaro is determined to stay alive and while he preached hope on tv, he has lost faith in others and acts like an aloof celebrity behind his dry smile

Maki Harukawa - Maki is a cool-headed girl, very unlike her aggressive in game self. nothing much can phase her, and while she has a calm smile, maki is truly seeking out her next thrill that can actually make her truly feel alive. As such, maki is quite atheltic, working out and very active in the school tennis club

Himiko Yumeno - Even by pg shuichi standards, himiko is quiet. Most take her for as mute since outside of the occassional peep, himiko refuses to talk. Himiko doesn't want to let others in, scared that others can hurt her, and she tries her best to stay in the sidelines and not draw attention to herself. She has a low opinion of herself, and she is just hoping that someone can be the one to reach out to her first

Angie Yonaga - The student activist of the school and class president known as a buzzkill, those outside her inner circle don’t tend to like Angie for her outspoken opinions on a variety of topics. Due to her religious values, she personally finds the idea of Danganronpa detestable, choosing to go to the interview in order to personally confront its creators and demand it be shut down. But to clarify angie doesn't believe her religous beliefs are above others, she simply wants to create a more peaceful world and has dreams of helping everyone

Gonta Gokuhara - Heir of the wealthy Gokuhara bloodline, Gonta has a lot of expectations placed onto him, and as such, he too has high expectations of the people around him as well. Composed and somewhat stoic, he is typically found reading a book in the courtyard, studying, or working out. He is a man of strict schedule imposed by his family, and as such, many find it best to ignore him. He is very perfectionistic and can be quick to criticize other. But in truth, little see how much Gonta applies those standards to himself, never believing himself to be enough for his prestigious family. In truth, Gonta is intimidated by others and feels himself not worthy to speak with them.

Kirumi Tojo - Kirumi Tojo is poor, but her suck-up and stuck-up attitude sure makes it hrd to have such an impression. Top of her grade in terms of academic test scores, Kirumi pushes herself to rise above her low family income to pursue greater things. She works incredibly hard and dedicates herself greatly to give the appearance of a refined student and student council vice president, growing an ego that she will rise above her class. Though well liked by teachers, some people can find her a tad egotistical underneath her high class demeanor. Her constant comparisons with others can be especially grating.

Kokichi Oma - A quiet class representative, Kokichi Oma does a lot to help his class out however he can. Through his wide smiles and numerous good deeds, he is often in charge of a lot of responsibilities, almost to his detriment. Never one for confrontation, he hides himself behind lies to appear more likable and helpful than he is: A classic person pleaser to the highest degree. But he’s not stupid, aware that he is often used, but he can’t push himself to say no to any requests. Behind all his non-judgemental words, he tries to suppress his more joke-ish attitude, sometimes seen stifling an immature laugh to himself.

Korekiyo Shinguji - Kind, studious, but reserved, Korekiyo has many walls up, especially with the fact that nobody has seen the second half of his face. Whispers surround the boy, all of which point to a headline from years ago of an unfortunate tragedy occurring with the death of an upcoming idol that shared the surname of shinguji. Many are convinced Korekiyo is the girl’s younger brother, but without being able to see half of his face and usually hiding behind his hair, there can be no confirmation. But when confronted with such rumors, Korekiyo’s usual collected attitude sours, and he would excuse himself. He appears to be haunted from a ghost of his past.

Miu Iruma - “The blonde, bimbo chick” is what most think when the name, Miu Iruma, is brought up. Popular and surrounded by numerous shallow friends, Iruma is known for her feisty, playful attitude, especially around the boys. But deep down, her aggression stems from her own perceived inferiority, despising that everybody assumes her as stupid and objectify her. It frustrates her to no end that she can’t be seen for anything past her looks, but with her fake friends surrounding her, she doesn’t feel like she can make such an odd complaint to anyone. More than anything, she wish she was spoken to, rather than treated as a joke.

Tenko Chabashira - Energetic and hyper, Tenko is sort of a weird one, always chattering about her latest obsession eagerly. She is not as popular as Miu or Kaede nor is she as smart as Kirumi, but she is just a girl with her own passions who wants to hang out with her friends with similar interests. She adores girl idol groups and devours discussion threads and Twitter posts, and just wants to nerd out about it.

Ryoma Hoshi - A delinquent with not a lot going for him, Hoshi is isolated from others with his jaded attitude. As they say, he’s been on the wrong side of the tracks, and usually doesn’t show up to class, typically skipping or found loitering on school grounds. Not many people give him a chance, his reputation exceeding him but he doesn’t seem to mind it. But, when you get to know him, he shows to give good advice and likes any company he can crack a good joke with.

Keebo - Keebo is created by Team Danganronpa and doesn't know about much of life outside of that. He is only loyal and can obey what he is told to do.

Tsumugi Shirogane - A stressed out DR writer in dire who finally has managed to score the role as lead producer for the latest season after her success with season 52. She is dedicated to her job both as a part of its creation but also as a fan, belieivng that her sole purpose is to continue the danganronpa legacy.

#danganronpa #drv3 #pregame drv3 #pregame shuichi #pregame kaito #pregame kokichi #danganronpa v3 #killing harmony

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mikelogan · 5 months

Note

A SFW a-z alphabet please 🙏

below the cut bc this was not short lmao (also a couple of the answers do have a TW for mentions of child abuse)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Mike is a very affectionate person once he knows he can let his guard down a bit. There’s also a learning curve for him because for so long, the only type of touch he knew was pain. When he gets older and realizes he can use sex to quiet the thoughts in his head and feel pleasure, that’s what he chases. One-night stands or brief, fleeting relationships that always end in hurt feelings because he can’t live up to anyone else’s expectations. But when he finds someone who is a better fit and who understands him on a deeper level and things actually seem to last, he’s genuinely the sweetest boy! He’s very very big on touching, very tactile. He initiates cuddling and hugs and soft little kisses and really just starts to thrive when his partner does the same, when he realizes he’s deserving of that level of tenderness. He may not be the best when it comes to verbalizing his feelings, but the safer and more secure he feels, he does start to open up gradually. Just the act of him telling his partner more about his past or what he thinks about, just letting them in, is a form of his affection as well. He also strikes me as the type to leave little notes if he gets called in or is asleep before his partner gets home.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

I think Mike probably feels like he’s a bad friend? He’s so married to his job – work is everything to him – and that doesn’t leave a ton of room for extra-curriculars other than a few drinks in a bar where he can find someone to take home. But in reality, Mike is such a loyal person that when he finds people who take the time to really see him and don’t just write him off as some hothead cop, he’d do anything for them. People mean a lot to Mike, even if he doesn’t mean the same to him. As for how a friendship might begin, I can so easily see it being at one of his usual bars or even a restaurant he frequents and he’s sitting a bit off to the side, by himself, knocking back a couple drinks with his eyes glued to the TV that’s playing whatever sport is in-season and someone makes an errant comment about the game and he kind of perks up, especially if it’s an opinion he shares (though he takes great joy in giving Mets fans a hard time). As standoffish or unapproachable as he might appear, he is a good person, can be perfectly friendly. I think he just has to get past that initial wave of suspicion, like if someone is talking to him they must have an ulterior motive sort of situation.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Mikey, my sweet, cuddly boy!! In the same vein as A, as soon as he knows he can trust someone, he wants them in his arms or to feel their embrace. He’s such a spooner, but also I don’t think he’d be super particular about the how as long as he and his partner are curled around one another and tangled together in some way, shape, or form. (See this SATC gifset)

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)TW for mentions of child abuse

For a long time – longer than it should take because he’s a stubborn motherfucker – Mike convinces himself he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to settle down or get married or have kids or any of that conventional, traditional stuff. And that’d be fine if it was true. But he wants that so damn badly that there’s an ache inside him that grows more and more pronounced as he goes from relationship to relationship. The most heartbreaking part of it is that he thinks he doesn’t deserve those things. That he doesn’t deserve happiness. That’s something other people get, but not him. And he buries that so deep, deep enough that he can tell himself he doesn’t want that, that he’s a terminal bachelor and who knows how many other platitudes. He just has such a hard time with his self-loathing. His entire childhood was spent being told and shown how worthless he was, that he deserved everything his mother did to him, and even though he logically knows he didn’t deserve that, that no child does, it’s something he has to work through and for a long time, he doesn’t want to go there because it’s easier to keep pushing it down than to unpack it all. That got depressing. Anyway, cooking and cleaning! I’m holding firm on my “Mike’s a fucking awful cook” stance. He’s not so inept that he can’t feed himself, but it’s pretty basic stuff. He can follow the directions on the back of a box for the most part, but I don’t see him enjoying cooking. He does it as little as possible, especially because the majority of his time is spent at work, plus working out and bars and sex and all that jazz, so he just doesn’t have the time for anything more. I do think he’s pretty clean, though. He’s terrible with laundry, but most clothes typically end up in or near the hamper. It’s just lugging it downstairs and actually washing and drying everything that he’s bad at keeping up with. Otherwise, his apartment is pretty damn clean and he’s fairly organized. Sometimes paperwork gets out of hand, but he’s on overtime anyway so he might as well stay a few extra hours to sort through it all every once in a while.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It really depends on the length of the relationship. I wouldn’t say Mike is commitment-phobic per se, but he certainly keeps his guard up for a while – which incidentally is why a lot of his relationships never quite make it off the ground. So if it’s more of a fling, just a few weeks or even a couple months, he hasn’t really let himself get super close yet and there’s an element of detachment. He would never go out of his way to hurt someone, but I think he’d be upfront and I don’t know, emotionless isn’t the right word, but kind of stoic about it? Probably would try and make a joke or “At least we had fun, right?” sorta vibe which definitely gets mixed reactions. In a more long-term relationship (which in my opinion he probably has very few of), it’s definitely a lot harder. He still tries to search for that detachment, but it’s nowhere near as easy once he’s been more vulnerable with someone. There’s that voice in his head telling him he should have known better than to take those walls down, that this is how it always goes, and he beats himself up afterwards for ruining a seemingly good thing. I do think that in these cases, he’s probably the one being broken up with because his partner just isn’t getting what they want or need, and it very rarely comes as a surprise. He can see the signs, but he doesn’t want to be the one to do it.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Like I said for E, he’s not completely commitment-phobic, but it’s a tough line for him. He really needs to be in a place where he’s looked inside himself, GOTTEN SOME MOTHERFUCKING THERAPY JESUS H CHRIST, and at least has started to tackle the issues he has at their root causes. And that’s really hard. But when he finds the right person, it’s something he has to do otherwise he’s not going to be able to give all of himself the way he wants to. He has to have those hard conversations and let them in, give them all the gory details he keeps to himself. But god, when that happens? It’s not like he’s a different person, but he’s so much freer and it looks so good on him. Given all that, marriage definitely is not something he’s going to jump into. He needs to be absolutely sure – mostly about himself rather than his partner because he’d already be sure about them – that this is what he wants and even then, he’s still going to turn it over and over again in his head, try to map out every possible outcome. But ultimately, it’s still a leap of faith, both in his partner and in himself. He’s nervous as hell and just as emotional, but once he gets to say the word “husband” or “wife” it’s this culmination of all his hard work and he finally gets to reap the benefits.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Sweet! Boy! He’s definitely gentler on the physical side of things because being gentle emotionally takes more work for him. Not everyone can make or will respond well to flippant jokes or sarcastic comments about his past trauma. He really just has to get a feel for the person first. That being said, when the situation calls for it and he knows his partner needs it, he can be so tender and soft that it almost hurts. At his core, Mike is someone who cares so much and that can be really difficult! But there’s a level of respect there that not everyone in his life gets. I would even go so far as to say that his partner is the person he has the most respect for. He might not always say or do the right thing, but he tries to be what they need, even when he’s not sure he’s capable.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

In general, I don’t think he minds hugs. He may not always be the one to initiate them, but if someone he’s comfortable around on a basic level goes for one, he’s not going to shy away. In Exiled when he’s back at the 2-7 for the first time, he hugs Lennie (so briefly lest it look gay) and I’m pretty sure Profaci, too, but I’m too lazy to look through my clips. He hugs Shirley, Profaci’s wife and touches her belly when they tell him she’s pregnant, like!! Tactile!! I told you!! With his partner, he’s always always always pulling them into his arms, whether it’s just for the hell of it or if they need comfort or virtually any other reason. Those are usually accompanied by a kiss, pressed to their lips or cheek, their temple or the top of their head. He’s a sweet boy (I type for the hundredth time because he is!! A SWEET BOY!!)

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

That. Is an excellent question. Again, it takes him a while to start letting down those walls and it’s even longer than that before he can say the words. But once he’s sure? Once he knows that’s how he feels (and likely gets some sort of confirmation from his partner that they feel the same or if they say it first), he can say it with surprising ease. Mike isn’t a liar and while he’s not exactly a stranger to hiding or suppressing his feelings, he’s able to say that much. And then it’s like he can’t stop saying it. He’ll whisper it into their hair or during more intimate acts, he’ll say it just watching them do something terribly mundane, he’ll say it when they crack a joke or laugh at one of his. Sweet. Boy.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Another one of those more nuanced questions, at least in my opinion. Mike would quite literally never cheat. He’s a slut, but he’s a smart, safe, monogamous slut. Because of that, because it’s something that truly never crosses his mind, it’s also not something he’d expect from a partner. But if he’s not fully comfortable in a relationship or he doesn’t know the person that well yet or he suspects something, that jealousy can flare a bit. But in a long-term relationship, it’s really not on his radar unless his partner makes him think there’s a reason for it to be. Even then, I think it’d be more a feeling of betrayal than jealousy, but there’s definitely an element of it there. The thing is that when he trusts his partner, he trusts them. If they’re going out without him, he’s not sitting at home or at work wondering what they’re doing or if they’re being faithful. He’s hoping they’re having a good time, he wants them to have fun and that doesn’t always have to be with him! He can get possessive, but that to me is a more sexual thing, more of like a “tell me you’re mine” kind of vibe rather than legitimate jealousy.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Mike do be kissin’! Really depends on the context though! He contains multitudes, can go from chaste little pecks to full-on licking into someone’s mouth. Most often, he tends toward the tamer end of the spectrum unless it’s clear things will be going further. For the former, like I said above, you’ve got forehead, temple, hair/head, cheek, lips, hand. For the latter, boy’s going anywhere his lips can reach, especially the neck. He’s a neck kisser for sure. As for when he’s the recipient of a kiss, I feel like he’d probably most prefer being kissed on the lips, but is certainly not averse to pretty much any other spot either. Sometimes a guy just needs little kisses pressed all over his face, y’know? It’s good for the soul.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)TW for mentions of child abuse

Mike is literally so good with kids and it makes me want to cry (and I don’t even like kids)!! In my head, he has a sister who has a veritable football team of children, all of whom he absolutely adores. He’s the uncle crawling around on his hands and knees while an indeterminate amount of screeching little creatures clings to his back. Holding babies does make him nervous, even after the 84th kid (I joke), but once he’s sitting down and settled with them in his arms or against his chest, it feels so natural. And that probably scares him at first for the various issues mentioned in previous questions, but once he allows himself to want that for himself, holding a baby is the best thing in the world. Their little fingers wrapping around his and he’s always making sure their socks stay on so their tiny feet don’t get cold and he talks to them so softly and I am crying in the club. When it comes to work, he’s always going to fight for kids. Fuck me up, Law & Order 1x09 “Indifference.” If there’s a scared or hurt kid, they are his first priority and he’ll fight tooth and nail to make sure they don’t go back to someone who poses a danger to them. It’s also why any case where abuse and/or the murder of a child is involved are so hard for him. He wants to save every kid and it’s not like a noble heroic thing like some people might think. It’s because he wished every day as a kid that someone would come save him.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mikey’s a sleepy boy. He is the opposite of a morning person. He’s typically on the quiet side, his eyes still heavy with sleep and his hair a mess. He is almost certainly leaning against his partner or laying his head on their shoulder at some point or another. All he wants is to sleep in and not have to wake up to the blaring of an alarm or a page from work. Breakfast is eaten hastily, a piece of toast stuffed in his mouth while he pulls his clothes on, and coffee is an essential. He’s not cranky exactly, just… non-functional.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights are spent (most often) lazing on the couch and watching a movie or a game or the news if he wants to get pissed off. Nights are for taking his time whenever possible, cuddling up with his partner or showering or sometimes just flopping straight into bed after a long or difficult day. Unfortunately, a lot of times, work bleeds into the night, well past suppertime, but it’s part of the job. When he’s off or on vacation, he’ll stay up late and sleep in and be the happiest, softest boy.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

I’ve pretty much already answered this a few times at this point, so the tl;dr version is that it takes him a while to open up and it’s very much a gradual process of sharing pieces of information here and there. A lot of that is because they’re just hard topics to discuss, difficult memories to talk about, but he also needs to know that he’s safe and can trust his partner before he gets to that point.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Hang on, I’m just looking into the camera like I’m in The Office, it’ll just be a moment. We all know he has a temper, but said temper is very situational. He gets angry at work because of injustice. Like genuinely, show me an instance of him blowing up and tell me it’s not for that reason. The only other option that gets him that heated is his own self-loathing. In his personal life, I don’t think Mike is anywhere near as angry as he is at work. And it sucks that he feels that way so often, but at least at home with his partner, he’s happy. This isn’t to say that there wouldn’t be fights between them, but even then, he’s more likely to shut down and go take a walk or go silent than he is to go off on them.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Mike cares. He may not be able to recall every single detail of everything his partner tells him, but he remembers the stuff that counts and he pays attention more than you might think. He listens when they talk and is the type to go back and purchase something they said they liked or needed just as a nice thing to do. He’s not the asshole who forgets birthdays or anniversaries or anything like that. If he misses something, it’s because work got in the way, which is something he never stops feeling guilty about even when it’s out of his control.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

I’m torn between thinking it’s something super mundane but was more of an introspective moment for him, like his partner just looked so beautiful, the light was hitting them just right or they were laughing and it hits him how much he loves them and how lucky he is to have them in his life OR thinking it’s something big, like when he proposes or they first say I love you, things more on that order. Either way, he’s a big ol’ softie and both of those things have the ability to make him go all misty-eyed.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Sweet boy tries his best!! He’s a lil dumb, but that’s okay. Like I just think the romance aspect doesn’t come super easy to him, but he learns what’s meaningful to his partner and does his best using that knowledge. If they’re not into big, grand gestures, he does definitely breathe a sigh of relief, but truly no matter what it is, he’s putting in the effort. That’s almost more meaningful than the surprise/gesture itself. He’ll think and overthink what gift to get them a hundred times because he wants to get it just right. The average date is rarely something ultra-romantic, probably more geared toward doing something his partner and/or he enjoys. Anniversaries are a bit of a bigger deal, usually involve reservations at a nice restaurant or something similar, but his favorite words are “why don’t we just stay in.”

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

PLEASE PUT YOUR SOCKS IN THE FUCKING HAMPER, MIKE, IT’S REALLY NOT THAT HARD!! Just stupid shit like that, we all have things on that order. Bigger issues are, of course, his propensity to close himself off or shut down rather than being honest and forthcoming, his temper, and – depending on how you view it or how it affects his personal life – how much of himself he puts into his work. That undoubtedly will put a strain on any relationship at one point or another.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He likes to look good and when he does, he knows it, baby *finger guns*. Most of that is just his stupid gorgeous face, but the hair certainly plays a part and he’s willing to put effort into that. Really, he just knows he’s attractive and he’s not above using that to his advantage when the need arises.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes! Okay, like obviously marriage or a relationship is not the end-all be-all for everyone and that’s perfectly fine. But for so long, Mike makes himself believe he doesn’t need or want that and puts all his energy into his work, and all that gets him is trauma, a decade-long stint on the trash heap of New York City, and some more trauma. At some point, he’s going to realize that he’s never going to be truly happy working for people that couldn’t care less about him or actively hate him. Once he finds his person, on some levels it feels like a religious experience. It’s still not always easy, especially at the start, but he’ll have those moments of clarity when he realizes that he doesn’t want to run away like he has in the past. He wants to be with them, even during the bad stuff. Whether or not that includes starting a family is negotiable, but finding the right person for him is easily the best thing that ever happens to him.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

I suppose it’s not so much a headcanon as it is fact, but sweet boy loves him some Sinatra. Knows all the things, probably has a lot of his stuff on vinyl, can recall trivia at the drop of a hat. Not a terrible singer himself. But he likes music in general, tends toward some of the older stuff, but also can get into more contemporary rock. Likes Elvis and Billy Joel and the Eagles and CCR, doesn’t mind The Beatles, loves Blood, Sweat & Tears, has been known to listen to Frankie Valli and Roy Orbison and Buddy Holly, probably knows a ton of Led Zeppelin and Sam Cooke, and is just generally all over the place when it comes to music. Is an absolute menace and will hum or sing to his partner and slow dance with them even when it makes them melt.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

It probably goes without saying that any criminal behavior would not be his jam, but I can’t see him being with someone super high-maintenance just given the nature of his job or anyone who isn’t willing to be patient or take the time to really get to know him. He won’t tolerate infidelity and lying just hurts – plus he’s a damn good judge of character and can tell when someone is lying to him most of the time. Anyone entitled or super materialistic would also make a poor match. Anyone not supportive of the LGBTQ+ community because that boy is bi, I will hear nothing to the contrary. I think he probably has to work through some internalized homophobia, but that’s when he’s younger, likely before he even joins the force. I don’t know that it would necessarily be a dealbreaker for him, but someone just generally apathetic about the law? Like, he is so passionate about what he does and has very strong morals and beliefs and while not everything has to align perfectly, I don’t think he’d be able to understand someone just flat-out not caring. Also would not be able to stomach anyone who's very religious or anyone who tries to force their religious beliefs on others.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

He’s one of those assholes who can pretty much sleep anywhere any time just by virtue of being on-call. He’ll grab sleep whenever he can get it because he never knows when he might get called in. Also a very heavy sleeper. He can wake up for an alarm, a page, and if he has kids, he totally has the Dad Sense and will wake up if he hears them crying, but otherwise, he’s out.

#answered #Anonymous #mike logan #headcanons #law & order #law and order #mikey my baby 😭

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angelasscribbles · 2 years

Text

About that Tumblr Bullying

I know I said I was going to do a whole call out post about the bullying that happened to me. Complete with receipts. But a funny thing happened after I posted my little preview post yesterday. My DM’s blew the fuck up with people reaching out to me with, support yes but also, and unfortunately, their own stories of having been bullied. Like a lot of people.

That got me thinking, what happened to me is a drop in the bucket. This problem is much more prevalent than I ever would have thought and that is so disappointing and unfortunate. This is supposed to be fun. Grown adults are not supposed to act this way.

A hate post was made about me, and I was, in fact, clueless to its existence until my little anon friend gave me the heads up. A move that seemed desperate for my attention. I have decided not to give it to them. I have decided that they don’t get any more of my time, attention or energy.

I want to focus, instead, on those being bullied. Because this issue is way larger than just me. I can handle it. I have been through some shit in my life and come through it with flying colors. A little Tumblr hate isn’t about to break me. But I know not everyone has the same level of resilience, not everyone is in a good place, not everyone has a good support system filled with loving, supportive people. I know there are people out there struggling with depression, anxiety, grief, stress, and worse. I know there are people for whom toxic internet bullying could cause a major mental health crisis, or set off a depressive episode or hell, even just seriously mess with their self esteem. My inbox is full of stories of writers doubting themselves, their writing, their worth as a human being because of the atrocious things said to them (way worse than what was said about me).

I want to do a couple of things here. The first is simply to let each and every one of you know that you are worthy. I know my platform isn’t that large, I’m no one special, but to those this does reach, I want to tell you that you do matter! You are worthwhile!

Secondly, I’d like to remind you that you own no one anything, not your time, not your attention, not a response to their messages, not an acknowledgement of their complaints (real or imagined). Literally, nothing.

My advice?

Surround yourself with positive people. Block the negative ones. You lose nothing by cutting toxic people out. Out of your Tumblr feed, out of your Facebook feed or even out of your real life. Sometimes, blocking and moving on with your life is self-care. There are people who thrive on drama and negativity. They can’t live without it, they feed on it. Don’t feed them. Cut off their access to you. Save your energy for those that make you smile, those that see the beauty in you (even when you don’t see it yourself).

When you have the energy/spoons for it, pay it forward every chance you get. Give compliments, prop up other people. You never know when that compliment might be the thing that turns an otherwise dull day into a bright one. And bonus, you’ll feel good about it too! I believe that what we put out in the universe comes back to us. So, send positivity out there every chance you get.

Engage in aggressive self-care. Block out time for yourself. Do the things that you enjoy, eat the foods that you love, allow yourself time to watch that TV show that makes you happy, even if the laundry isn’t done. Take a hot bath, go for a long walk (if you’re able), draw, write, paint, do whatever it is that feeds your soul. And don’t apologize for it, or feel guilty for doing it. Your happiness counts. You count!

If you are struggling, please reach out to someone, talk, tell someone. Don’t keep it all inside, let it out. I know that can be hard sometimes, but it’s crucial for healing. And let’s face it, most of us have unresolved trauma of some sort or another.

The last thing I want to do here is give a little practical advice. I want to offer some tips for how to lock down your account to better protect yourself against being blindsided by anon hate. Here they are:

This is the most obvious one. Turn off anonymous asks. To do this, go to “Account” (little gear icon in upper right hand corner on mobile) and scroll down to “Allow anonymous asks” and toggle it off. <- I did this, because I had witnessed others getting anon hate. I thought it was enough. It wasn’t. Someone determined to stalk, bully and harass you will find another way. So keep reading.

Take away the ability for an anonymous, fake, blog to message you. Yes, you can make it so that only blogs you follow can DM you. To do this, go to “Account” and click on “Account settings” then click on “Messaging”, here you can choose who can message you, pick “only Tumblrs you follow can message”. <- Wish I had known that sooner. Never occurred to me that someone would make an entire fake blog just to send me hate.

Next, if you want, you can limit who may comment on your posts. Go to “Account” then to “Account settings” and click on “Replies” choose “only Tumblrs you follow can reply” <- This is tricky for me, because the whole point of Tumblr is interacting with new people/content. But if you are being stalked, harassed and/or bullied, I would recommend taking this extra step.

This is just a privacy issue, but if you don’t want others to know when you’re active, go to “Account” then “Account Settings” and click on “Privacy”. You can toggle to turn off “Let others see that you’re active”<- Not really going to keep anyone from bullying you, but if you have anxiety about people being mad if you don’t respond when they can see that you are active, then it’s a good thing to deactivate.

If you’ve taken the above steps, then you are safe from anon hate in your asks, your inbox and the comment sections of your posts. <- someone can still create a fake blog and make a nasty comment in a reblog of your post, but at least they have to show their nastiness publicly.

If anyone has more tips that I’ve missed, please respond with a comment or reblog and let us all know!

I’m going to leave you with this little gem. No Time for Toxic People by Imagine Dragons. Lyrics are under the cut.

Lyrics:

The way they look at me, I know exactly What they talk about when I'm not around Got no time for that, as a matter of fact Every day's my birthday, oh, I hope you heard me

Take a look outside, it's a beautiful day, yeah Yeah, it's a beautiful day, yeah I'm gonna keep it that way, that way, ayy Take a real good look, it's a beautiful day, yeah Yeah, it's a beautiful day, yeah I'm gonna keep it that way, that way, ayy

So spend your hours on what you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind, I've been here way too long I want to spend my life with those who's done me right Your heart is frozen over, I'm a four-leaf clover

Do-do, do-do-do, no time for toxic people Do-do, do-do-do, no time for that, I Do-do, do-do-do, no time for toxic people I, I've got no time for toxic people

Move along, move along, move along, go Let me go to the clouds below 'Cause they're callin' me up to higher ground What a teacup sound, even mighty drown, oh

Do-do, do-do-do, no time for toxic people Do-do, do-do-do, no time for that, I Do-do, do-do-do, no time for toxic people I, I've got no time for toxic people

#bullying #its not okay #do better #be better #anon hate #fake blogs #toxic people #fandom discourse

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somegirlontheinternet135 · 2 years

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*Sigh*

. . . I'd never thought I'd do this. . .

A few months ago, I said that I could never pull off proper fanfic because my fear of it not getting attention. But here I am, with several WIPs, taking a break from playing video games to create content along with other things, so it made all the weirder when I decided on what I wanted to do. . .

Folks, after a bit, I decided to make write my first ever, proper fanfiction. I'm not talking about just visual storytelling like my other AUs, I'm talking about actually ao3 level fanfic, except on tumblr. Unfortunately, I can't force on this entirely, due to having such a cramp schedule and my other WIPs

Till I finish those, I hoping I can begin work on the prologue before anything big happens. What exactly is this chunk of fiction about? Well don't ask. . .

Might you be interested in. . .

⏰Anything And Everything, All Of The Time⏰

~A Cookie Run Kingdom AU, Created By Mei_TheBear~

For those who don't know about my recent ramble, the plot of this AU is such; The Five Ancient Heroes accidentally summon our favorite sci-fi eldridge being and cyprid, Timekeeper, and have to be their main sources of entertainment. Originally, I made this AU to comeback the lack of content we've been getting with these six, and it ended becoming way bigger. I had so many other ideas for this AU, one of making TK Pure Vanilla Cookie's long-lost siblings. But after a few tweets, I ended up with something I'm generally happy with

But that, however, is now why I made this. I made this post to explain major factors in the story (roles, etc.) That without, may confuse first-time readers. So, if you're reading this now, you're in luck. Let's get into it!

Millennia Tree and the other legendaries probably plays the biggest role in the main plot. MT was also the closest with Timekeeper before the "incident." Key word here is "was," in my AU, they have an ex-boyfriend/crazy ex-girlfriend relationship.TK is obsessed in MT, in more ways than one, wanting to do more than put his head on a spike

Twizzly Gummy plays a major role in the story, starting the domino-effect that led to the Timekeeper being freed. Other than that, Twizzly is going to be the "Sammy Lawrence" of the story, influenced by TK and treating them like a god. Clotted Cream Cookie will also play a big part in this. Playing as our antagonist, he became fixated on the Timekeeper and wanting to know to anything and everything about them, nearly being driven to break of insanity trying to find a possible weakness. Characters like Gingerbrave won't be as important, but will serve as support for Clotted Cream and will make appearances

Anyone that exposed themselves all types of different media be prepared, there's going to be a lot of references to different songs, movies, musicals, tv shows, even other video games, all of which well be tied into the story. Speaking songs, I have tons of songs planned for this AU, we are talking about the Timekeeper; hard to say they wouldn't be a fan of musical theater

Another thing is slight similarities between the backstories of Timekeeper and Dark Enchantress, I'm saying "slight" because I've recently done a bit tweaking to TK orginal story. Timekeeper, becoming the way they are through boredom, whilst White Lily Cookie turning into DE was an act of curiosity

Speaking of curiosity, the first half of the story I view as a cautionary tale in two ways:

1. The dangers of curiosity

How we as a society try to find logic in what is unknown. We a need to question every little detail to have a better understanding of it. And how some are better unsolved. . .

2. Don't be cocky

Doesn't matter who you are, your status, how many weapons you have or how much a$$ you kick on a daily; they'll always someone bigger and stronger, ready to take you down. Whether that be from jesus christ or time itself, they'll always someone after you

Tldr: 'Anything and Everything, All of The Time' will officially become a fanfic on tumblr, not ao3 though- I made this post to prepare you for the possible sh*t storm you'll read. I do plan on making and posting a prologue the next month given the chance, so that's something to be on the lookout for

And as always, stay tuned^^

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #timekeeper cookie #millennia tree cookie #cookie run kingdom au #anything and everything all of the time

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incarnateirony · 2 years

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big name fans in several lanes realizing neither clout nor grudges is going to bend reality here.

and to scripthunt, so long and thanks for all the script food once you drop your last 2 scripts, unless jules starts blatantly mainlining you winchesters scripts... but uh, that wouldn't look better for you than the pilot drop did after the 8 months of lies and drama y'all rabble roused against me for it.

you too, wigglebox. can't believe you were so hungry about this since the finale you sold out to work with J2 tinhats, wincels, jensen or misha antis, and pretend being a Fandom Moderate was a new grand idea in the age of progress. I know you were salty about wanting to be the finale script hero too after being kicked out for that stalking shit or whatever but damn this takes doubling down to a new level.

Hope all that noise and self-clowning was worth it.

Honestly the wigglebox slide into the fandom moderate take during waves of progress really does tap on real world politics. many old minds think their progress was all the progress, and then as things change band back into these weird groups seeking their old comfort and stability ranges and screaming against things moving ahead, transitioning into conservatives with age and damn, we are literally seeing it generationally happen in fandom. A lot of antiPOC dogwhistles coming out of some other declared progressives too and a lot of imperialistic mindset in this fandom smashing off cultures they don't understand. A lot of old people trying to prop up their old relevance and help insist everyone else's is still there too while it ages out into conservative old era where it belongs.

Wigglebox acts like they support it, then attacks scripts because her own vendetta started it so she's gonna double down, and actively lied about the pilot for 8 months for example with 2p0 and wiki having that shit since february. And would have hidden it if it was her choice, and is just going to inherently deny everything i say on the premise of the fact that I said it. But yall realizing, aren't you? it's not gonna change it.

sorry for your weird high school drama game loss. you bet on the wrong horse here and now you're just big mad i guess. just enjoy your damn destiel and let go of your own fuckups. Meanwhile ask liv her take on the Art of Dying. Or why I used a king bacchus icon for almost two years. Enjoy.

cave quoniam scias Clavem Mortis pensare graviter. Il tamen desideres, ut introeas illum abyssum, obscurissimum artis opus est tibi porta, assholes.

you were so busy chasing the past, you missed the train to the future.

youtube

Charcubed might wanna chill a bit on all the effort going into that Chuck Won thing. I know there's Char stans and shit now but um. Char. There was. There was another option. You thought it was too hard or big for SPN. I am begging you to look at your TV. We. We talked about this. There were two different script draft pilots for a reason. You remember that right. one post 15.18 bubble idea and one--what was it Char. ask liv about Art of Dying, Char. The second one had a chuck won alterpremise too to try to include Sam but that was the whole problem. do. do we remember this.

it was never complicated. it was the straightest forward answer. Robbie just needed to draw Jensen the right Chart for him to wrap his head around it lmfao. there's a reason it's even on the damn production chairs come on now yall, use your noodles. oh and of course

#Youtube #there's a message for all of you in the war room

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p-t-f-s · 3 months

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everytime i make a new friend or i open up about shit it /always/ ends up at one point or another they say my life is like a tv show or i should write a book or pitch my life - like more a handful amount of times, like damn near every time i make a friend. and like. i wish they were wrong when i try to look objectively at what im telling them and not just. my life that i wake up and live and go to sleep with every day. but also like. thats also a looooooooooot of people ive met??? everyone has interesting and fun stories, but most of life is so similarly repetitive that we forget it more than we experience. also i do believe it is my autistic rizz. and ability to self sooth and parent.

[its all just personal life bitching/discussion/musings below]

anyways i wish life would be calm for like. a couple months pls. i know a year is too much to ask but literally this year has been a lot. like last year was a lot but it wasnt a fucking competition. getting my car stolen again, then losing my job in what was supposed to be my 5 year anniversary, and then finding out my uncle had stage 4 cancer. then it was spring break and i got to visit my cousing with a thankfully preplanned and prepayed vacation during the midst and height and she and her husband were like "heres our cocktail maker. get as drunk as you want" which was nice of them so i stayed tipsy half the time i was awake instead of high while in seattle. went to a wine tasting expo. got throw up drunk. my cousin was very impressed by my ability to keep my manners while drunk past my tits and wait to throw up till after id rolled the window down and stuck my head out. i was getting blackout drunk bc id apparently texted my friends i loved them which i had no recollection of doing considering my phone was actively dying while i was still only actually tipsy at that expo. i was also less stress then bc my car had been found. totalled, crashed and smashed in the front which thankfully i owed less than it was worth so they payout covered the downpayment for my new car. rip to not getting my personalized horse license plate with my name on it. then i get back home and my uncle is now dead and the whole family is in town for the funeral. its been a cascade of em for a few years now since my mom started the party back in 21.

by the viewing id started a new job for a week. close by home and only a dollar less than previously. they were asking a whole lot for shit pay in truth. and NOW. I FIND OUT THE JOB I STARTED WHILE TAKING A FRAUD ACCOUNTING CLASS. MIGHT BE VICTIM TO FRAUD. POSSIBLY SINCE INCEPTION AND IN THE MOST TERRIBLY HORRIBLY OBVIOUS WAY THAT JUST KEPT SLOWLY AND SLOWLY GETTING PEELED AND REVEALED. I love it when the head of one department tells me hes in cahoots with the head of another dpt and a few workers from their and others about the terrible company shit they found and are kinda looking at other jobs. ofc he did say that after i said to his face that i was spending a bit every morning applying to other jobs after learning of the possible fraud VIA OUR """CONSULTING CFO""" having been previously convicted of fraud. twice. over a decade between convictions. were getting drinks later this week for him to tell me everything else hes found and lurked about in the system. and how no one understands what accounting is or does or how i actually spend half or most of my day playing solitaire or watching anime. bc they want me to be a controller but are calling and paying me at the clerk level. so thats what they get. i love the phrase act your wage.

theres still so many other things that have happened this year too that i still havent mentioned. like the moon hole. passive aggressive fighting with my upstairs neighbor who said i was "delusional and fucking hallucinating" bc i said he stomps in the middle of the night. and literally as i typed that there he went above my head at. ah. 10:58 pm. since my second talking to him in march i know ive not been the only one to talk to him about his shaking the goddamn foundations of the building or waking the toddler constantly in the apartment next to his, diagonal from mine. the surprise birthday party my friends threw for me after literally freightening me when i came home with surprise and each giving me different hearfelt and attentive gifts of all my different interests. weekly dinners with my dad on the same days he was court ordered to have my older siblings and i during the week as he lives 10 minutes away taking care of our grandfather. hes the only reason i get updates on my older sisters life as she blocked me on all social media and cut me from her life before our mothers death for our differing political beliefs. infighting truly is the death of leftists as out beliefs were always closer together than to that of our very republican parents. but im also not an american government shoe loving authority cuck like most the rest of em. "you know what its like to be a minority bc you were a literal minority of being white kids going to a majority black school in the city." to my fucking FACE. not only is that incredibly dismissive on so many levels but like with how LEGITIMATELY my siblings took and NOODED THEIR HEADS?????? TO IT. truly fiction is a joke compared to life.

anyways this is the most any of you will ever get from me here on tumblr in months, good luck to any of my followers seeing this who were unaware i am a person and wassup to my mutuals entirely unaware of my life and smooches to my dear dear friends who are all very aware of all of this. everyone else. idgaf, this was for me to vent and proclaim. bc i lay down in my bed with my cat looking very disappointed that im not asleep despite how late it is and i have to go to sleep keeping all of that with me for the rest of my life. oh it may not stay close, it may not be completely there by the end, but i know i will always be aware even more so than before when i was living out of my car, of what i keep in and am willing to leave in and with it. I have somehow kept that cute little cactus my friend gave my for my birthday alive still, i now have a whole wall of plants that ive kept alive for over a year, and i plant to keep that as long as I can. I have presents and gifts and memories that i plan to look fondly on tomorrow and the day after and the day after that and so on. afterall. I need to check on my plants and water them, and feed my cat. everyday a tragedy happens and still i must feed my cat. my mother was dying, and still i had to feed my cat. was she suffering? no, she was not even there anymore to be suffering and still i must go home and feed my cat and sleep and wake up and there is my cat to welcome my mornings after guarding my nights, a clear agreement that she must be fed once pleased with her pettings. my elder sister blocked me and cut me from her life before our mothers death and even during she did not change, strong in her stance and belief not even grief would change or ease her foundations. nor would my grief stop my cat from being fed. every day i wake and sleep with all these things and one day my cat will die. and i will grieve. and it will not be her that gets me through it, but she will never be parted from me again. i will wake up and make the same sleepy motions that indicate her morning ritual that will not be performed. my day will be as different and as same as it was before. i will sleep and i will wake with it all and i will meet someone new and tell them the first time i really got into energy drinks was after getting a whole case for being a smartass at 7am to emergency driving instructors. that i only started drinking coffee bc a boy who liked me worked at starbucks and so gave me a large giftcard and an in to getting my first job at starbucks. you never know why or how somethings started.

#personal #me #literally me #accounting #my life #i just want to graduate at this point.#i mean i already did but like #thats the only major thing i want happening the rest of the year

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zoe-oneesama · 3 years

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I'm interested in the Lila exposed au about your akumasona. What's that?

For those who don’t know my OC (self insert) akumasona Zoe Rapporte (The Enchanted Florist), but her family owns a flower shop that is pretty successful - think “This florist does the arrangements at the Grand Paris and for High Profile Events” - so she’s mildly acquainted with Adrien from some of those events. Maybe not friends, but like when you frequent a coffee shop so much that you learn all the staff’s name and they all remember you.

So Lila is not above dropping lots of money to sell her lies (hello Gabriel Collection Fox Necklace) and one of her lies to her mother is that Adrien is her boyfriend. And what boyfriend doesn’t send his lovely girlfriend flowers, especially one as well off as Adrien Agreste? And really, as long as his name is on the card when her mother accepts them at the door, that’s all that matters, right?

So Zoe takes note that once a week this prissy girl with a bizarre hairstyle comes in to place a rather pricey bouquet order under Adrien’s name and has it delivered to the same address that’s on the credit card bill - doesn’t take a genius to figure out this delusional weirdo is pretending a celebrity is sending her flowers weekly. It’s a little strange because Zoe could’ve sworn she saw on TV that this chick had done photo shoots with Adrien before and based on his Instagram she was his classmate, so it’s kinda concerning that she’s going this far to burrow her way into his life. Still, she’s dropping quite a bit of coin and it’s really none of Zoe’s business, yeah?

But then imagine there’s a class event - maybe a dance, maybe a teacher’s appreciation week, maybe an alumni reunion - that needs our favorite class representative and her deputy to order a large amount of flowers. And Adrien, ever desperate to do his part, takes it upon himself to help with the budget. And maybe Nino decides to come for no particular reason lol.

So the four walk into the Rapporte Flower Shop and Adrien is so excited to introduce his friends to one of the familiar faces from his VIP world. And he’s just so exuberant as he brags about his friends and is so wholesome and different from the put together boy Zoe would briefly meet at those stuffy events that this surge of sisterly affection makes her completely forget her usual “none of my business” attitude. She’s got to let him know what it going on behind his back, especially if there’s a chance that he has no idea what kind of girl “Mlle. Rossi at the fifth story walk up” was.

And who knows? Maybe this was a misunderstanding, a weird arrangement Adrien had with his secret girlfriend to make sure she gets exactly the type of bouquet she wants? Zoe recons she’s had stranger requests. Welp, no better way to clear the air than to just ask.

“Hey Adrien, you know there’s this weird girl that comes in once a week and has flowers delivered to herself under your name?”

Adrien paused in his rant about Nino’s music mixing skills (having already left Alya puffing her chest in pride and Marinette a red puddle of embarrassed goo) to stare blankly at Zoe. “I beg your pardon?”

“Oh yeah.” Zoe leaned into her palm, looking way too relaxed considering what she’d just dropped on him. “For, like, the two months at least. Always has us address her card ‘Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder, Ma Belle, from Your Loving Boyfriend Adrien Agreste’.”

“What the heck?!” Alya exclaimed from beside Nino who’s jaw was dropped in disbelief. “That’s crazy messed up. Adrien doesn’t even have a girlfriend, what does this psycho think she’s doing?!”

“Right? I don’t know who she thinks she fooling. What kind of boyfriend needs to sign his full name?”

“It is pretty weird.” Adrien said, rubbing his neck in discomfort. “But it’s not the strangest thing a fan has done. It’s not that big a deal, right?”

“Dude.” Nino started, staring at his best friend in mild horror. “Just because you don’t know this girl doesn’t make it ‘no big deal’.”

“Oh no.” Zoe pipes up again. “He knows her.”

“What?!” All of Adrien’s friend’s exclaimed. Even Adrien looked a bit shook by her admission.

Alya zipped over to the counter, leaning dangerously close to Zoe’s remarkably unfazed face. “What do you mean ‘he knows her’?! How do you know that?! This sounds like a creepy fangirl but you’re telling me she’s actually in Adrien’s life?!”

“I should say so. I mean, it was even on TV that she was modeling with Adrien and she’s made a few appearances on his instagram.” Zoe brought out her phone, casually thumbing open Instagram. “I would’ve just ignored it, but if she’s going around pretending she’s dating Adrien then he has the right to know.”

“Modeling with....and you said on his instagram...?”

“Are...” Marinette piped up, voice dripping with trepidation. “Are you talking about Lila?”

“Marinette,” Alya gave her friend a withering look. “Just because you don’t like her doesn’t mean you can just accuse her of-”

Zoe cut her off, flashing her phone screen at the group to present a photo, having found the image she was looking for: a brunette with a straight fringe and her forelocks in twin tails leaning possessively over an uncomfortably smiling Adrien.

“Yes, Mlle. Rossi! I’d recognize that crazy hairstyle anywhere.” She turned the phone back to look at it herself. “Pft, Adrien, what’s with this caption? ‘Lila insisted I take post this picture?’ Yikes, man, learn to say no.”

Alya waved her hands in front of her, eyes scrunched closed in disbelief. “Hold up, hold up, hold up. You have GOT to be getting this twisted. Lila wouldn’t do something that like this, that’s just...wrong!”

“I mean, this is definitely the girl I was talking about.” Zoe said slowly, raising one eyebrow at Alya’s response. “And Rossi is the name on the bill. What exactly am I ‘getting twisted?’“

“Because!..Because Lila just wouldn’t!”

“Yeah!” Nino shouted from behind her, shaking himself out of the stupor this whole situation left him in. “She said she wasn’t into Adrien like that!”

Zoe snorted. “And you believed her?”

“W-well yeah, why would she lie about that...?”

“You guys are so cute. And definitely need to watch more True Crime shows.”

“What-?”

“Sorry Adrien.” Zoe lofted over Alya’s shoulder, cutting off another defensive quip. “I know she was your friend. I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“Ah, no, she’s not really- I mean, I’m not that surprised to be honest.” Adrien offered weakly.

“It sounds right up her alley.” Marinette growled, fingers digging into her crossed arms.

“What...” Nino and Alya turned to their friends, confused and anxious. “What are you talking about? This..this is Lila we’re talking about!”

“The same Lila who got Marinette expelled?” Adrien stated, face grim and tired.

“That was rescinded, it wasn’t her fault-”

“The same Lila who sent everyone in Adrien’s contact list picture of her kissing Adrien?” Marinette ground out, aggravated.

“I mean, that was weird, but I’m sure she didn’t mean-”

“The same Lila who got my bodyguard and Natalie in trouble with my dad?”

“Or maybe the same Lila who stole Adrien’s dad’s book and threw it in the trash?”

“She did WHAT-?!”

“I-I fished it out for you!”

“Wait is that how you knew about Lila-”

“Wow.” Zoe whistled, again cutting the group off. “What a class act. Sounds like a great friend you got there, Adrien.”

“Oh trust me.” Adrien growled, eyes never leaving Marinette who steadfastedly refused to look at him. “After this we’re NOT friends.”

Alya held her head with one hand, staring at the ground. “Wait, wait, this...this can’t be right, Lila isn’t...she wouldn’t do this, she wouldn’t, she’s...cool! And nice! And-! She just can’t!”

Zoe cocked her head toward’s Alya, leveling her with a patient stare. “Well, then what is she doing?” Alya looked up blankly at her, prompting her further. “The truth of the matter is that Lila Rossi comes in once a week, and has been for at least two months, buying flowers to be delivered to her own address (which I know because it matches up to the address on the card with her last name on it), but dictates that the card say it was sent by Adrien. If she’s not faking that Adrien is sending her flowers, what is she doing?”

“I...I don’t...” Alya floundered. They were just supposed to order some flowers, how did the day turn like this?!

“You’re an investigative reporter, right? What’s that old Sherlock Holmes saying? ‘Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth’?”

Alya leaned into Nino, staring out at the shop, searching for something to make some sense. She thought Lila was nice, was her friend, was everyone’s friend! But this stunt with Adrien...what does it even mean...?

Everyone looked towards the employee door as footsteps could be heard approaching. A moment later Tama, Zoe’s younger sister, stepped into the shop, pausing at the door when she realized five pairs of eyes were staring at her. She looked over the customers, taking in Marinette’s slight glower, Adrien’s tight jaw, and Nino and Alya’s devastated posture.

“Soooo, are you here to buy some bouquets?”

#lol I didn't know how to finish this off though #I always imagined it as a 'wake up call' fic rather than a 'and then everyone told lila how awful she is'#could use some refinement #lila salt #zoe rapporte #my oc #my fic #ml salt fic #akumasona #miracusona #a-bitchtm

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lovepollution · 2 years

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youtube

Making a Scene: Rachel Brosnahan, Luke Kirby and Amy Sherman-Palladino Unravel Lenny And Midge’s Carnegie Hall Confrontation After seasons of fans pining for characters Miriam Maisel (played by Rachel Brosnahan) and Lenny Bruce (Luke Kirby) to finally cut through the sexual tension and act on their obvious attraction to one another, it happened. But as heated and exciting as that rendezvous was, it wasn’t the Midge and Lenny moment that left audiences reeling. That moment came days later at the comedian’s historic Carnegie Hall concert where Lenny invited Midge onto the iconic stage to reprimand the budding comic for turning down gigs. This brutal dressing down on the hallowed stage wound up being exactly what Midge needed to close out this season of the Prime Video series readying everyone for the fifth (and final) season of “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.” “Everyone else on the show has a relationship with Midge that’s established in a way that’s more familial, Lenny and Midge don’t really have that,” Kirby said. “Those are the people that can call you out in some ways because they don’t have the same kind of dog in the fight.” Brosnahan, Kirby, and series creator Amy Sherman-Palladino, dissect the tense Carnegie Hall argument for Variety‘s Making A Scene, presented by HBO. “This particular confrontation was really important for the two of them,” Brosnahan said. “Lenny doesn’t apologize for who he is and that’s the piece that she took away as she’s forging this new path for herself, but he’s that grounding force in that moment where he says ‘Yeah, but you have to understand that there’s also stuff that you have to do.'” Sherman-Palladino talked about securing the filming location at Carnegie Hall during the pandemic. “Getting Carnegie Hall itself was sadly not that hard because we were in the middle of a pandemic and nobody was going into Carnegie Hall,” the showrunner explained. “I think it was symbolic of our entire season last year which was trying to figure out how to do this show and creatively keep it on all levels, visually and performance-wise, on the same level that all the other seasons were.” On the show’s stand-up scenes, Sherman-Palladino had high praises for Brosnahan and Kirby. “Everything that I love about stand-up is what these two actors are personifying when they get up there and take control,” Sherman-Palladino said. “It’s the ballsiest thing you can do, I find myself forgetting how hard what they’re doing is, and it’s very special.” As for what this exchange means for Midge’s future, “She’s got to really go for it, she’s got to get out of her own way and see how she’s going to break through to that final moment where she becomes star,” Sherman-Palladino explained. “The fight with her and Lenny was to sort of knock her head into a sense of, ‘This could all go away and I could turn around tomorrow and my opportunity was gone and I missed it!'” So what’s next and how will Midge be moving “forward,” keep your eyes on the small screen. “TV was becoming very big. You could break huge on TV, where it would take you a lot longer going on the club circuit. You go on TV, everybody sees you, you’re a star the next day. It’s setting us up for where we need to take her for the last season,” the creator teased. [x]

#rachel brosnahan #luke kirby #the marvelous mrs. maisel #lenny x midge #midgelenny #midge x lenny #amy sherman palladino #lenny bruce #midge maisel

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arvinsescape · 3 years

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Subspace.

A/N: This has been in my drafts for aaaaaggggeees, I actually forgot I’d written it 🤣, another different sort of writing and I hope you all enjoy (Please remember this is a work of fiction)! 💕💕

Summary: The first time Tom realises his girlfriend is stuck in subspace.

Warnings: Mentions of sex (Minors do not engage), talks of a dom! x sub! relationship, swearing, mentions of an injury.

Something is wrong with you and Tom can’t put his finger on it. You’re not yourself and haven’t been since last night. You seem almost out of it, as if you’re here but at the same time not.

“Shit.” You muttered out as you caught your foot on the edge of the couch and fell onto your knees. This is what Tom is talking about, you’re not usually this clumsy but this morning? You’ve had his heart hammering in his chest more times this morning than you have in the last year of dating.

“Darling, are you okay?” Tom asked as he helped you to your feet, a complete look of concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, just lost my footing.” You smiled as you flopped onto the couch. “Think my legs are still recovering.” You huffed out through a laugh.

“Are you sure? You’re a lot clumsier than normal.” Tom was concerned now, it was growing inside his stomach and he couldn’t shift it, he just couldn’t put his finger on what was going on with you.

“Like I say, I think my legs are still a bit shaky from last night.” You shrugged as you trained your eyes onto the TV.

You’d had an intense session last night, you’d had multiple orgasms and both of you had had earth shattering ones to finish off, the kind that knocked him out almost completely, how tired he was washing over him in an instant. It had been one of your more intense sessions in fourteen month relationship, although you had a dom, sub relationship it was never too out there. Orgasm denials, multiple orgasms, light choking, him tying you up were as far as you’d ventured so far.

Tom only grew more concerned as the day went on, especially when he walked through to the living room at 1pm and found you still on the couch. You were in the same position he’d left you in almost two hours ago.

“Darling,” Tom asked and you mindlessly hummed in response. “You’re meeting your friend in twenty minutes.” He pointed out and he watched as you picked your phone up and checked the time, panicking as you saw it.

“Shit, shit, shit. Lost track of time.” You said as you shot past him and upstairs. Of course Tom understood that anyone could lose track of time, it just happened. But you? No, you were the most organised and punctual person he knew, if you said you would be somewhere, you’d turn up ten minutes early, you didn’t do late.

You quickly rushed out a ‘love you’ with a quick kiss to his cheek as you practically ran out of the door. Tom found himself thanking the Gods that you weren’t driving with how you’d been this morning.

You came back a few hours later, rushing into the living room and practically throwing yourself at him. You were cold from the winter air and it made Tom shiver slightly at the sudden temperature change he was experiencing.

“You okay?” He asked as his hand came to the back of your head, your face stuffed into his chest.

“I missed you.” You sniffled and Tom was taken aback, this was normal when he’d spent weeks away from you, but hours? You were a pretty independent person, although you and Tom were extremely close, you were by no means completely attached at the hip.

“I missed you too.” Tom comforted as he squeezed you, you pulled yourself closer, making him shift so you could straddle him. Clinging to him as if he’d disappear, although you were a cuddly person by nature you were usually happy just cuddled into his side as you watched TV.

“You did?” You asked as you pulled back to look at him, excitement in your eyes, almost like a child. Tom furrowed his brows, this was unusual, like he says, you’re an independent person, you were acting like you needed him to say it, needed him to reassure you.

Of course, there had been times where you had needed that from him, when the media or the fans had been pretty hard on you but as far as he was aware that wasn’t the case right now.

“Of course I did.” Tom reassured as he ran his thumb over your cheek and you leant into the minor touch, making Tom take your face in his hand. You seemed to be craving his touch, it seemed to be something you needed he observed over the next hour.

You stayed in his lap, whining when he stopped running his hand over your back or through your hair. Nuzzling so far into him that he was sure you were trying to get inside him, when he got up to go into the kitchen you’d trail behind him like a lost puppy. All of your behaviours making Tom grow more and more concerned over you.

In the last few hours you’d seemingly lost coordination of your body, lost track of time and now you were almost emotionally and physically needy. Not that Tom would ever call you needy, or mean it in a bad way, he just didn’t know how else to describe how you were being.

The last straw came when you were making a brew for the two of you, after spending all day seemingly trying to make him happy, needing confirmation from him that your actions were indeed making him so.

“Did I put enough milk in your tea?”

“Yeah,” Tom furrowed his brows, “why?”

“I can make you another if not.” You panicked.

“Did I get the right one?” You asked as you brought a blanket down from the bedroom.

“I never specified which one I wanted.” Tom laughed and watched a panicked look escape you.

“Well when you said a blanket you must have had one in mind, I can go and get it.”

“Darling, calm down.” Tom said with furrowed brows as he forced you to sit with him and trying to stop your panic.

“I just want to make sure you’re happy. That I’m not misbehaving.” You said through a panicked voice and Tom’s concern hit a level he wasn’t sure was possible. Misbehaving? You weren’t a child, you weren’t his pet.

“Baby, you do make me happy.” Tom said. “What’s going on with you? What do you mean misbehaving?” Tom asked and he watched as you shrugged.

“I just want to make sure I’m being good.” You shrugged as you settled back down.

Tom watched as you filled the cup in your hand, the water rising and before Tom could stop it happening, it happened. The water overflowed and poured out onto your hand, you hissed in pain as you pulled it from the cup, putting the kettle down as you did.

“Fuck darling.” Tom panicked as he instantly grasped your arm and shoved your hand under the cold tap.

“That hurt a bit.” You said and Tom’s eyebrows shot up.

“A bit? Y/N/N, you’ve just practically scolded yourself.” Tom panicked as he continued to keep your hand under the cold tap. “Where were you?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“I don’t know, I feel a bit,” you paused as you thought of the word. “Floaty,” you settled on.

“Floaty?”

“Yeah, I feel like I keep drifting off today. I’m sorry, have I upset you?” You suddenly asked, eyes finding his.

“Upset? What? Darling, what is going on?” Tom asked as he placed both his hands on your face. You’d just burnt yourself and you seemed more concerned about whether he was upset than your burnt hand.

“I don’t know.” You admitted as tears sprung to your eyes.

“Oh sweetheart.” Tom said as he pulled you into his chest, making sure your hand stayed under the tap. He held for a few minutes, placing kisses into your hairline as your silent tears wet his t shirt. He pulled back after a while, pulling your hand from under the tap to examine it, he was relieved to see no blisters, that you were extremely fucking lucky and had avoided a trip to A & E.

Your hand was still red raw and had a heat to it so Tom grabbed a tea towel and drenched it in cold water, wrapping it around your hand.

“Tommy, I’m tired.” You said almost childlike, almost as you do when you’re in a drunken state. “I’m really tired.” You said again.

“Okay, I’m gonna go and grab some burn cream and then I’ll put you to bed, okay?” He reassured as he led you upstairs and into the bathroom. Once in there he quickly applied the cream to your hand, he was thankful Sam had talked him into buying some, the chef in him reminding the family how bad burns could be. Once he’d dressed you, he helped you get into bed, pulling the covers over you.

“Wait, where are you going?” You asked as Tom was about to leave the room. “You’re not staying?” You asked in a small voice. Your behaviour had certainly taken a turn over the day.

“I can if you want me to?” He said and he watched you frantically nod your head. He cuddled you until you fell asleep and then carefully removed himself from the bed, careful in his every move not to wake you.

It wasn’t long before he was dialling his best friends number and asking him to come over.

“What’s up?” Harrison asked he plopped down on the couch next to Tom.

“Y/N/N.” Tom sighed and Harrisons brows shot up in concern.

“Has something happened? Is she okay?”

“I don’t know.” Tom huffed out as he ran a hand through his hair. “She’s not been herself today and I don’t know what to do.” Tom admitted.

“How’d you mean?”

“Well for starters she spent most of this morning tripping over things. She lost track of time earlier on today, you know her, she doesn’t do that.” Tom sighed and Harrison shrugged.

“Maybe she genuinely did, we can’t all be perfect.” Haz laughed and Tom looked at him seriously.

“Haz, she’s been, needy. Like I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, just out of character. She told me she didn’t want to ‘misbehave.’” Tom said and Haz furrowed his brows in thought.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Tom shrugged.

“Are you guys like, you know.” Harrison started nervously before collecting himself with a deep breath. “Do you have a dom, sub dynamic?” He asked and Tom furrowed his brows for what felt that the millionth time that day.

“Yeah.” Tom answered carefully.

“And is she the sub?” He asked.

“Harrison.” Tom warned, he wasn’t one to discuss the ins and outs of his sex life with other people, he saw it as a private thing between two people.

“Just,” Haz sighed. “Hear me out, please. Is she?”

“Yeah.” Tom answered again, carefully.

“Have you had a session recently?” He asked again and Tom nodded in response, he was lost, what the fuck did this have to do with anything? “When you engage in your dom side, do you, you know, like ‘punish’ her for misbehaving?”

“Harrison, what the fuck has this got to do with-” Tom cut himself off as realisation dawned on him. You’d been a brat yesterday and he’d acted accordingly.

“It’s called subspace mate.” Harrison said.

“But this has never happened before? Why would it happen now?”

“It doesn’t always happen, sometimes it just takes her hormones being out of balance. Maybe she slipped into it and you never fully coaxed her back, would explain why she’s stuck in a sub mentality.” Haz shrugged.

“But I’ve done everything we normally do in aftercare, I’ve looked after her, reassured her.” Tom reeled off.

“Maybe she’s looking for her dominating partner to bring her back?” Haz suggested. “Try being more forceful.”

“I don’t wanna push her Haz, she fucking burnt herself earlier, completely on another planet when she made a brew.”

“Maybe you have been doing without realising it.”

“What?”

“Kept her in subspace, you’ve coddled her. Made her feel safe, taken care of. Look, I don’t know Tom, every woman is different but it sounds like based on her behaviour, that you have pulled her further under without meaning to.”

“Okay, thanks Haz.” Tom said. They enjoyed a good hour or so together, catching up before Tom’s phone pinged with a message from you asking where he was. Tom sighed as he read it.

“Try being a little firmer with her.” Harrison suggested and Tom nodded as he said goodbye to his friend. “Don’t beat yourself up, these things take trial and error and as long as you are both safe, happy and learning it’ll be okay.” Harrison reassured as he placed a comforting hand on his friends shoulder before heading out.

Tom collected himself as he made his way back into your shared bedroom. Your eyes instantly finding his as you flew out of the bed and into his arms, he took a deep breath before his next move. Clearly he needed to change tactic, he just wasn’t sure which one you needed.

“Y/N,” he said as he pulled you back, holding you at arms length as he looked you deeply in the eye. “I need you to come back.” He said and he watched as you furrowed your brows.

“What do you mean? I’m here?”

“You’re not, not properly.” Tom said a little firmly. “You’re still in that floaty place, as you called it.”

“No, Tom.” You laughed. “I feel floaty, I didn’t go anywhere.” You giggled.

“You did and now I need you to come back.” He tried again.

“Tom, you’re being silly.” You laughed again, “I’m right in front of you.” You said, “see you’re touching me.” You continued as you gestured to his hands on your shoulders. Tom didn’t miss your tone, your bratty tone, he changed tactic, eyebrow raising in challenge.

“What did you just call me?” Tom asked, voice demanding, the same tone he used when he was ‘punishing’ you in bed. He watched as you smirked.

“I called you silly.” You challenged and Tom hummed as he backed you into the wall.

“Are you being a brat princess? Are you sure that’s what you want to go with right now? You’re making it sound like you want me to punish you.” He said, lips close to yours as his breath fanned your face, your breath hitching as you shook your head.

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t want to misbehave anymore.” You said and Tom looked you directly in the eyes.

“Then I want you to come back.” He spoke, voice laced in a tone that had told you to ‘get on the bed’, ‘cum for me.’ He watched as an understanding flashed across your eyes and Tom continued. “Come on princess, I need you to come back. I need my Y/N.” He whispered as he captured your lips in his own. “It would make me happy if you did.” He finished.

He watched as your eyes became less vacant, slowly coming back as he coaxed you out with well placed kisses and demands. It wasn’t long before your hand wound into his hair and Tom sighed in relief as his head found your neck.

“That was fucking weird.” You snorted, voice completely your own.

“That’s never happened before.” Tom said as he pulled back to look at you.

“It was so strange, it’s like I needed you to be the opposite of how you are during aftercare. I just kind of stayed in subspace last night.” You rambled.

“You knew you were in subspace?”

“Well yeah, you’ve done it before but you always coaxed me out of it.” You admitted and Tom looked confused.

“What happened last night? Why didn’t it work?” Tom panicked, had he missed something?

“Don’t know.” You shrugged. “I suppose you fell asleep quicker than usual and I had one of the best orgasms I think I’ve ever had.” You said and you took in the look on Tom’s face. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up, it happens.”

“But I missed it.”

“Yeah but you still kept me safe. That’s what this is about right? Having fun and being safe. Tom you make me feel so safe, how do you think I end up in subspace sometimes, it’s a different kind of pleasure. As a sub I make myself completely vulnerable to you and you make me feel so safe and wanted and the level of trust I have in you is off the charts and sometimes it just happens, sometimes I drift off.”

“Maybe we pushed it too far.” Tom said as he took your hand in his, placed a kiss to the back of your injured hand. “I couldn’t protect you from this.”

“Tom,” you sighed. “The burn was a mistake, you can’t protect me from everything. If you’re worried I regret what we did last night because of this then don’t be. I don’t regret anything we’ve tried and I trust you, okay? Remember that one time I used the safe word and you stopped immediately and took care of me?” You asked and Tom nodded.

“This is something that does take an element of trial and error, getting fully used to everything that can happen. You took care of me, you brought me back, Tom I trust you completely with me.” You continued. “I’ve never given myself over to someone the way I have you and I’m glad, I’m glad I get to experience these things with you and I wouldn’t change it or you for the world.”

“I promise I won’t miss it next time.” Tom reassured and you smiled as you kissed him.

“I don’t doubt that for a second.”

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x female reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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ALL IS FAIR

a/n: woohoo!! finally a harry fic! lol sorry i got very into marvel these past weeks but im finally bringing you some harry content! this one was originally requested by an anon sometime and then we kept talking about it until i actually got around to write it! hopefully you’ll like it and if you do, please like and reblog!

pairing: ceo!Harry x ceo!plussize!reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 16.7k

masterlist

“Stop being such a stuck up dick, it’s your birthday, bro!”

Harry rolls his eyes at his friend who walks into his penthouse as if he owned. Niall Horan was so well-known in Harry’s building that he could have easily walked into any homes in the tower and people would still welcome him warmly. It might have a few things to do with the fact that half of the residents in the Compass Tower are women who are hopelessly in love with either Niall or Harry, hoping for a chance to drag either of them into their bed one day. They have a lot more chance to do that with the Irish bloke than with Mr. Styles. Not that Harry doesn’t find them attractive, but he is not the type to have one night stands, something his friend gives him quite a lot of shit for.

“Would you fuck off for twenty more minutes?” Harry sighs, shooting him a look as he covers the speaker of his phone, in the middle of a call.

“You have ten minutes and we are leaving. I’m not letting you work on the night of your thirtieth birthday!” Niall warns him before walking into the kitchen to roam the always full, neatly stocked fridge.

As much as Niall Horan comes off as an irresponsible cocky child, he is quite the businessman himself as well. As the Lawyer of one third of New York’s most influential people, he surely doesn’t have to worry about making a living, enjoying his luxurious apartment a few streets away from Harry’s place on the Upper East Side. It’s not as expensive and impressive as Harry’s penthouse on the top of the tower his father built in the heart of the posh neighborhood most people only know from TV shows, but he couldn’t complain.

“Another designer refused to sign with us, H. We are running out of options,” Lambert’s voice rings through the phone as Harry turns to the floor to ceiling window, staring out to the city skyline in front of him.

“We have quite a few left, right?” Harry asks clenching his jaw.

“Yeah, but I heard that Cometa is planning on announcing something big next week so I think a lot of them are waiting for that to happen.”

“Do you think it’s another collab? But they just had fucking Chanel have a line sold through them!” Harry growls, his blood boiling at even just the thought.

When it comes to fashion in the virtual world, there are two businesses that totally dominate the industry. In the men’s wear, Twisted is definitely the number one selling place. The idea started off as just a freshman school project that originally wanted to sell tech stuff, but a few years into the project Harry met Lambert who was already a rising star in the fashion industry and they joined forces, creating the most classic yet affordable and user friendly online empire: Twisted. Though Twisted mostly features men’s clothing, they’ve been trying to venture to the field of women’s fashion, but it hasn’t been as easy as they thought it to be. And the reason for that is Cometa.

Cometa was originally a website where anyone could sell their own clothes, make their online wardrobe sale. But eventually the business grew itself out and stepped up a few levels, collaborating with various designers and brands, selling exclusive lines and a highly praised seasonal variety four times a year, earning a well-deserved top spot in the online fashion industry. It’s hard to compete with what Julia Bianchi built up through sweat and blood and Harry Styles has been working on stepping up to be a major competition for Cometa in women’s fashion, with not much luck so far.

To top the cake with a delicious looking cherry, Cometa has been trying to set feet into men’s fashion as well in the recent years, bringing out several lines with some mentionable designers, but they never made it be as big as Twisted. The two businesses have been trying to outdo each other for about a decade now, with not much luck so far and Harry’s patience is running low by now.

“I don’t know what it is, but keep an eye out. I’ll call you on Monday, alright?” Lambert sighs through the line.

“Okay, thank you,” Harry nods, feeling a little defeated.

“And happy birthday, man. Go and celebrate!” he chuckles, making Harry’s lips curl up as well.

“Thanks, have a good weekend,” Harry bids his goodbye before the call ends.

Wandering into the kitchen Harry finds Niall with the thickest ham and cheese sandwich between his hands, sitting at the kitchen island.

“So where exactly are we going tonight?” he asks, grabbing himself a granola bar as he joins the Irish lad on the stool next to him.

“Oh, that’s a surprise,” he grins, mouth full as he chews mercilessly. Harry grimaces, not sure how this is the same man who can convince a judge about basically anything, wearing his designer suits, putting on an intimidating and serious act for his cases.

“I have a switch,” Niall once told him when he asked how he does it. “I just turn it off when I’m off the clock.”

“You know I hate surprises,” Harry informs him matter-of-factly, but Niall doesn’t seem to be bothered by his comment.

“You’re thirty now, no one cares what you hate.”

“Says who?” Harry huffs.

“Me,” he grins, making Harry roll his eyes.

The bass is throbbing, red tinted lights illuminating the exclusive bar in the heart of Manhattan where Niall chose to gather some of Harry’s close friends to celebrate his thirtieth birthday. Sitting in the leather couches at a restricted area at the back of the place, they are hidden enough not to draw too much attention to themselves but still feel like they are part of the party.

“Cheers to three decades of this cocky motherfucker!” Niall beams as their glasses meet in the middle, everyone laughing and wishing Harry a happy birthday before they all chug their drinks.

Harry is not necessarily the type of person to enjoy going out too often, but he admits it’s been a while since the last time he let loose. It feels nice to have the evening to himself, leaving the business behind for just a couple of hours before he returns to his busy everydays.

Though the occasion is Harry’s birthday, Niall is surely enjoying the evening a tad bit more than his friend. After Harry sees him send down three tequilas in a row he realizes it’s not gonna end well if he doesn’t get some water into his system as well. Excusing himself from the group he heads to the bar, pushing his way through the dancing bodies until he finally reaches his destination.

Given how it’s a Friday evening, the place is packed and he waits in the line patiently while the bartender is fixing up the order of a group of girls a few stools down from Harry. Leaning onto the counter Harry runs his gaze over the dancing crowd, tapping his fingers against the surface to the beat, even bopping his head a little when he feels a push from behind him.

“Oh, sorry!” A female voice calls out and as he turns around he spots the owner of it, a young woman, her curvy body wrapped in a tight mini dress that leaves very little to Harry’s imagination as his eyes run up and down her figure. He has never seen a curvy girl as confident as her, she is radiating, drawing every male’s attention to herself like she is feeding off the hungry stares and dirty thoughts birthed by her.

Her eyes meet Harry’s gaze and the sly smirk that tugs on her perfectly shaped lips gives it away that she is not that sorry to be bumping into him.

“No worries,” is all he manages to say, the urge to drop to his knees right then and there stronger than anything he has ever had to fight.

“He won’t notice you,” she tells him and his eyebrows knit together in confusion. “The bartender. If you just stand there like that… he will never come here,” she explains.

“I’m not sure I have what catches his eyes,” he jokes, making her laugh and he swears his stomach drops at the heavenly sound.

“May I?” she arches an eyebrow and Harry nods, letting her step in front of him. He stands tall above her, eyes fixed on her figure as she leans onto the counter, the marble pushing her breasts up just enough to spark the bartender’s fantasies when he glances in her way. She waves at him with a charming smile and a moment later the guy is standing in front of her, ready to please her in any way she desires.

“Three vodka sodas and…” she turns in Harry’s way, her lips slightly parted and his breath hitches in his throat. “What did you want, handsome?”

“Just, uhh—Just two water, please.”

Her eyebrows rise, but she doesn’t comment on it, just adds the two water to her order. The bartender nods and disappears to fix up her drinks. Harry takes a deep breath and sticking his hand out to her he introduces himself.

“I’m Harry, by the way.” She takes his hand, shaking it firmly.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Harry. Are you here alone?”

“Um, no. I’m here with a few friends,” he replies nodding towards the back of the place. “Are you here with someone?”

Please don’t say your boyfriend, please!

“A few of my girlfriends,” she smiles, brushing her hair over her shoulder, flaunting a better look at her naked neck and just one glimpse is sending a whirl of dirty thoughts into Harry’s mind. He wonders how soft her skin would feel under his lips, what her moans would sound as he sucks on it, leaving a mark on her, letting every man in the house know that he made her feel good.

“Are you guys celebrating something?” Y/N asks, a knowing smile on her lips as she most definitely saw Harry staring at her.

“Actually, yeah,” he chuckles a little nervously. “It’s my birthday.” Y/N’s eyes brighten up as she beams at him.

“Really? Happy birthday then!”

“Thank you,” he smiles shyly. “Are you guys celebrating something too?”

“Well, I…” she starts, her thoughts wandering off for a second before she continues. “I kind of got promoted,” she explains and Harry smiles down at her warmly.

“Congrats then!”

The bartender returns with the drinks and she is already about to get her card from her little clutch when Harry pulls his card out, handing it over to the guy behind the bar.

“Birthday boys shouldn’t pay for others,” she smirks, but doesn’t try to fight him that hard.

“You can pay me back later,” Harry shrugs with a suggestive smirk on his lips. He doesn’t want to part ways with her, but she is obviously expected to be back with her friends and he needs to get back to Niall as well before he absolutely loses control. Stepping closer to him, Y/N slides a hand up his chest, her palm resting at the base of his neck as she leans to his ear.

“Save me a dance, birthday boy?” she murmurs into his ear, her lips brushing against him for a split second before she steps back, grabs her drinks and winking at him one last time she disappears from the bar. Harry stands there for a few more seconds before the bartender hands him back his card and snatching the waters from the bar he heads back to his friends.

Luckily, Niall is slowing down a little, The water does him well and Harry finally doesn’t feel like he’ll have to take care of him, dragging him home once the night is over. Sitting by the table Harry is trying to focus on the conversation, but his gaze keeps wandering over to the dance floor, looking for one particular curvy figure in the sea of dancing bodies.

It takes him some time to spot her, but when he does, he is not able to tear his eyes away from her.

She is almost perfectly in the middle with her friends surrounding her, lips and shoulders swaying to the rhythm perfectly. He catches her chug down the last sips of her drink before she disregards the glass and gets back to dancing. Watching her every move intently, Harry feels his lips slightly part at the sight of this angel who is for sure a devil in the sheets. He can’t stop himself fantasizing about what it would feel like to dig his fingers into her thighs, kiss her neck, her cleavage that’s on show now, how her curves would fit into his hands perfectly. He wants to praise this woman, make her feel good and not just because he wants to be selfless and please her, but also because seeing this woman reach her high because of him would be the biggest ego boost for him and he just needs that.

“Go dance with her!” Niall wiggles his eyebrows at him when he catches Harry staring at her.

“What? No, I’m not a dancer,” he shakes his head, shifting his eyes away from the dancing goddess on the dance floor.

“Oh come on, don’t be a pussy!”

“I’m not a pussy, I just—“

“You’re a pussy. I saw her looking in your way as well, she wants your dick!”

“Jesus, Niall!” Harry whines rolling his eyes. He doesn’t like it when he gets so vulgar, but luckily no one heard their conversation. Glancing back in Y/N’s way Harry sees how men are eyeing him, probably building up the courage to go up to her and that has his blood boiling. He needs to be the one to touch her.

Chugging down the rest of his drink he snaps the glass on the table before standing from his seat, ignoring Niall’s cheering as he makes his way into the crowd.

Harry didn’t lie when he said he is not a dancer, he feels uncomfortable, awkward and uncoordinated most of the times he tries to dance, but he is pushing all of those to the back of his mind for now as his eyes are set on one person in the crowd.

When Y/N spots the man approaching her, she can’t push a pleased smile off her lips, slowing her movements down as Harry finally reaches her, leaning closer to her ear so she can hear his voice over the music.

“Here to collect that dance,” he smugly tells her, making her laugh, though the music is too loud to let him hear her. She just nods and turning around she presses herself up against him, her backside fitting his front perfectly. Harry’s hand snake around her waist, his large palm smoothly moving through the silky fabric of her dress as they start moving together.

She is intoxicating, makes Harry feel like he is some kind of horny teenager, like he hasn’t dealt with women before, but in a way, she makes all of his past flings appear to be only girls. Her confidence in her own body is easily one of her best traits, the way she handles herself, moves her body, the look in her eyes, Harry is getting drunk on just watching her and now he is able to touch her as well.

When he feels himself getting hard in his pants, he knows he should be at least a slightly bit embarrassed by himself, but as Y/N turns around in his arms and he sees the pleased smirk on her lips, the feeling vanishes in a heartbeat. She wraps her arms around his neck as she pulls him close, her lips brushing against his lips.

“Enjoying yourself, birthday boy?” she prompts before pressing a kiss to the soft skin under his ear and he can’t hold a growl back. The friction is almost unbearable, as his hands slide lower on her back, stopping on her ass, he knows he won’t be able to control himself any longer. Luckily, he is not the only one having this inner fight.

Snapping around Y/N grabs his hand and starts pulling him through the crowd towards the hallway of the bathrooms. He follows her eagerly, lucky for them, the club doesn’t have restrooms with several stalls, but single bathrooms with a lot more comfort and privacy. Just what they need right now.

They find the third bathroom empty, pushing their way inside and locking the door before Harry pushes her up against it the moment it’s just the two of them, their mouths hungrily meeting in the middle. He almost grunts against her lips, she tastes even better than he imagined and the way her tongue is the first one to come into action has got his mind blown. His hands roam up her body, running up all her curves until they reach her face and he cups it in his palms, pressing his hips against her. She moans against his mouth when his hard cock pokes against her, both of them desperate to take it further.

Tumbling further into the small bathroom, he helps her up to the counter next to the sing, her legs instantly opening for him, her tiny dress rolling up her thighs, revealing her clothed sex. Harry eagerly kisses his way down her neck and chest, her skin feeling so smooth under his lips. His fingers hook under the thin straps of her dress, tugging them down so he can push the dress past her full breasts and thank God she is not wearing a bra underneath!

“Fuck me, you are so hot!” he breathes out, making her chuckle at his reaction.

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” she cockily answers before Harry’s mouth attaches to her nipple, his hand working on her other breasts before he switches.

He quickly gets down on his knees, pushing her underwear to the side before his lips and tongue meet her sensitive clit.

“Oh shit!” she moans, a hand coming to tangle in his hair while she tries to hold herself steady with leaning on the other one behind her. There’s no time for teasing now and they both know that.

She is so lost in the experience, Harry is licking and sucking just the right spots and she tries to close her legs, locking his head between her thighs. His arms come to curl around them, ring clad fingers digging into her flesh and the situation might be a little suffocating for him, but he doesn’t mind it a bit. In fact, if he died this way, he would die a happy man.

She doesn’t let him finish what he started, pulling him up, his lips still glistening from her own juices as she kisses him messily, wiggling herself out of her underwear while he undoes his pants as well.

“Shit, do you have a condom?” he breathes out when his palm wraps around his throbbing cock. She nods, reaching for her clutch she dropped to the counter and digging into it she grabs the package, smacking it against his chest playfully. “Were you planning to do this tonight?” he grins cockily as he rips the package open and starts rolling it down his hard length.

“No, I’m just smart, unlike you,” she retorts, her sass dripping from her tone and it just riles him up even more.

Grabbing her thighs he yanks her to the edge of the counter, a gasp leaving her plump lips as she tries to find her balance quickly.

“Don’t be a brat,” he growl against her lips before kissing her, while he lines himself up with her, the head already pushing in.

“Then fuck me, birthday boy,” she challenges him again and it’s the last straw.

Harry slams into her, both of them moaning at the sensation before he starts thrusting in a fast pace, needing all the friction he can make to get them to finish as soon as possible. Y/N’s head falls back as she holds onto the back of his neck, her other hand on the counter behind her again and Harry glances down, watching her breasts bounce every time he rails into her, slamming his whole length into her every time their hips meet.

She reaches for one of his hands that’s holding her thigh and she boldly brings it to her core, tapping his fingers to her clit, letting him know that she wants some extra effort. Harry doesn’t say it, but he is blown how she didn’t just do it herself, she made him do it. It’s got to be one of the hottest things he has ever seen.

“Fuck, go harder!” she gasps, wrapping her legs around his waist as he picks the pace up, feeling his orgasm building rapidly with each thrust.

They both are a whimpering, moaning mess, the bass of the music is thumping outside and for a moment, Harry feels like he is finally living his life to the fullest.

“I’m gonna cum!” she breathes out, his name falling from her lips moaning after that and when she pulls him down to kiss him, biting into his bottom lip and tugging it, he loses himself.

He feels himself jerking inside her, still sliding in and out of her as he grunts, releasing himself into the condom. He flicks his fingers on her clit at the same time, creating just enough friction to push her over the edge as well. He is coming off his own high when her walls tighten around his cock, dragging his orgasm out even longer as she basically screams, gasping for air, riding her orgasm out to the last bit.

Leaning down he kisses her again though they are still panting, this time making it a lot less rushed than the time their lips met for the first time. Her legs fall from around his waist and he pulls out, both of them cleaning themselves up in the aftermath of their little session.

“I know this was quite rushed and all that, but can I have your number?” he asks, even feeling a little nervous. She puts her underwear back on, smoothing her dress down as she smiles up at him, cupping his face in her palm.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to skip on that,” she tells him simply, shocking him for sure.

“D-Do you have a boyfriend or something?”

“No,” she shakes her head and now Harry is confused.

“You didn’t enjoy it?” he then asks, trying his best to figure out the reason behind the rejection.

“I did. But it was a one time thing. If it’s supposed to turn into more…” she sighs, grabbing her clutch from the counter. “Then I’ll leave it to fate if we ever meet again,” she shrugs before turning around she just unlocks the door and walks out, leaving Harry stand there in complete and utter shock.

This is definitely a first for him, a woman who doesn’t want to see him again. He is not that egoistic to think that everyone is in love with him, but he never had an encounter similar to this. Not after the most amazing sex ever.

Harry fixes himself up, still not believing she walked out that easily, but there’s not much he can do now. Walking back to his table, he acts like nothing happened and when his eyes scan over the crowd again, he can’t see her anymore.

Harry lets out a tired sigh when Zayn, head of the graphic design department walks into his office with a familiar brown paper bag with the logo of Harry’s favorite Chinese restaurant.

“Has it started already?” Zayn asks, though glancing at the big screen on the wall he can see the stream is still waiting to be started.

“No, I’ve been staring at it for like twenty minutes,” Harry grumbles, pushing himself away from his desk to join Zayn on the couch in front of the screen as he unpacks the food. “What do you think it’s going to be?”

Today is the day of Cometa’s big press conference and no one knows what they are about to announce. It’s been keeping Harry on the edge for the past few days, because whatever it is, it has got to be major. Julia Bianchi is not the type of person to hold press conferences, she is a private person who has managed to keep most of her life behind closed doors. That’s something Harry admires in the woman even though they are competitors in the business. He can relate to wanting to keep her life just for herself, he has been doing the same thing. No public appearances, no lengthy interviews, no photoshoots. He likes to let his work talk for himself and it’s proved to be a successful move so far.

“I don’t know, but I hope they don’t suddenly announce a full graphic makeover right before our update,” Zayn chuckles. He has been working on an entirely new appearance for the website these past weeks and it’s supposed to go live sometime later in the month. A change for Cometa would totally throw their attempt off, making them look like they are just copying Julia’s move.

They eat and wait for the stream to start when the screen finally comes alive. There’s an empty stage shown with just two mic stands in the middle and nothing really happens for a few minutes before clapping is heard from behind the camera and Julia finally walks on the stage.

The woman is a real diva. Wearing a matching pant suit with bold floral print all over it, her short hair is neatly straightened into a bob cut, her red lips smiling lightly as she waves around in the room. Julia has been in the fashion industry for almost three decades now and she surely made a name for herself, sitting front row in every fashion show she attends, her words on any new trend being basically the standard.

Stepping to one of the mics, she clears her throat as the clapping dies down and her calm, gentle voice rings through the speakers.

“Welcome, everyone, thank you for coming, as you might already know I’m Julia Bianchi, head of Cometa, the world’s best online women’s fashion house.”

Harry leans back in his seat, eyes fixed on the woman on the screen as he is patiently waiting to hear what she’s got for the people this time.

“I’ve spent twenty-seven wonderful years in the business, building my own one for the past two decades. I fell in love with fashion as a child and moved to Milan to study designing from the bests. Though designing has always and will always hold a special place in my heart, I saw an opportunity in the early years for a brand that would hold together every other brand in the industry, bringing it to everyone’s home thanks to the rapidly developing technology. Cometa has always been my little baby and I’m proud of everything I achieved as head of such a great company.”

Harry realizes what it’s about before Julia could even say the words herself. The phrasing, the nostalgic tone, it’s all adding up to the obvious: Julia is about to announce her retirement.

“I gave the best years of my life for this company and I regret nothing, but recently I’ve realized that it is time for me to slow down for a little bit and enjoy a life that’s not filled with work anymore, and spend more time with my beloved husband, Fabio and my family who supported me on my long way here. Therefore, I am now announcing it with an aching heart and a lot of excitement as well that I am stepping down from my role as CEO of Cometa. I might be leaving now, but my business will not. So it is a pleasure to introduce you the person who will carry my legacy on, my amazing niece, the absolutely most perfect woman to carry on the work I started, Y/N Y/L/N.”

The moment another woman comes into the picture Harry almost chokes on his own saliva, seeing the same curves he had his fingers dug into last Friday. Y/N smiles and waves around as she steps to the other mic next to her aunt, exchanging a short look with her before turning towards the people in the room and the camera that’s streaming the event.

“Dude, you alright?” Zayn asks, patting Harry’s back a few times as he is still struggling to breathe normally.

He refuses to accept that the woman he fucked in a bathroom on his birthday, the one that made him moan like never before, is the same woman who is going to take over his biggest competitor.

“This has got to be a joke,” he breathes out with teary eyes from all the coughing.

“It is an honor to be here,” Y/N starts speaking as the clapping dies down once again and the two men are staring at the screen. “Just like to be the one to step into the perfectly stylish shoes of my aunt. I hope to live up to not just her and everyone else’s expectations, but also to mine as well. I grew up watching my aunt build up this empire with basically dust so to be the person to take her place is a dream come true. I promise to keep the quality the same and work on improving Cometa to its possible best while being in charge.”

As she finishes talking, questions are thrown in her way, but Harry doesn’t pay attention any longer. Standing up he walks to the window, staring out to the city as he chews on his bottom lip anxiously.

“What the fuck is your problem, H? It wasn’t as bad as we expected, right?” Zayn questions.

“It’s fucking worse!” he snaps turning around. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

“Would you just tell me what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that… I told you about what… happened on my birthday.”

“The bathroom fuck, oh yeah,” Zayn chuckles with a playful shine in his eyes.

“Well, that woman… the woman I fucked was her.” Zayn stays silent for a moment before he turns towards the screen, eyeing the woman on the stage as she is still answering questions, standing confidently in her tight, black dress and red heels.

“You fucked Julia Bianchi’s niece? And she is now taking over Cometa?” he raises his eyebrows at Harry who just nods, pressing his lips together into a thin line. “And she is also the one who didn’t give you her number?”

“Don’t… bring that up. But yes, it’s her.”

Zayn starts laughing, clearly finding Harry’s misery entertaining, but Harry doesn’t feel like taking it that easy. He wonders if she knew who he was, if she did it on purpose or it was fate’s horrible joke on both of them.

“Ah man, that charity event on Saturday will be one hell of a show then!” Zayn points it out and Harry’s face falls. He totally forgot about the charity event he was invited to, one that would have the biggest names in the fashion industry together in a ball room to raise money for a chosen good cause. It happens every year and it’s a major event, the perfect place to network and also to see your biggest enemies. That means that Harry will see Y/N again in a few short days and if he is being honest… he is not ready to face her, not after the information he learned today. Sighing he steps to the minibar he insisted on having in his office and though he never drinks during the day, he now thinks that now might be an exception. He pours himself some whiskey and before he chugs it down at one go, he lets out a long, tired sigh.

“That’s just my luck…”

Leslie helps you with the zipper of your dress, the silky, red fabric hugging your body like a second skin. She smoothes the wrinkles out while you fix the straps, staring back at yourself in the mirror with judgment. You need to look perfect, this is going to be your first time appearing at an event as CEO of Cometa, your big entrance into the industry, you can’t let anything go wrong.

“You look gorgeous, babe,” Leslie smiles at you, bringing your hair behind your shoulders as her eyes meet yours in the mirror. Leslie might be your assistant, but she is a lot more than that. You’ve been friends for almost a decade and when she lost her job a few years ago you didn’t hesitate to offer her a spot next to you. You wouldn’t be here without her, she doesn’t try to use her privilege of being your friend to not do the work, she is always on top of her game and you’ll always be grateful for her to not make it awkward at all.

“I think you need some diamonds though,” she winks at you, stepping to the table where all kinds of jewelry is sprawled out. She reaches for a simple one, not too much, quite elegant and you nod as she holds it up for you. Walking behind you she brings it around your neck, the diamond brilliantly sitting on your chest now, giving that little extra shine to your outfit.

“You’ll make every man fall in love with you,” she smiles at you and breathing out you nod, hoping to believe that everything will go perfectly.

While you make a few last minute calls she gets dressed as well before the car arrives for the two of you. She is wearing a less daring but still beautiful black dress, her curly hair pinned up into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, her heavily freckled face bright from her happy smile as the two of you make your way to the event.

“I know it’s ridiculous, but I tried to memorize the faces and names from the guest list,” she grins at you, earning an eyeroll.

“Les, I told you, this is not The Devil Wears Prada,” you chuckle softly. She is obsessed with that movie and hasn’t shut up about feeling like she is literally living in it since your aunt has shared her plans with you about your future position last year.

“I know, but it might be impressive if you already knew everyone!”

You have to give that to her, it would earn you a few good points if you knew the names already, you’re just still nervous about the whole thing. So many things could go wrong and you want it to be perfect.

At first you feel intimidated by all the influential people around you. Everyone here is one of the bests in their own field and you feel like an impostor, but then you remind yourself that you earned your spot. Your aunt wouldn’t have given you the company if she didn’t trust you entirely with it. You worth no less than anyone else in this ball room and that reminds you that… you’re that bitch.

Leslie’s knowledge of names actually comes handy. You love seeing people get shocked when they try to introduce themselves to you, but you already greet them saying their names. It earns you some appreciative looks as you make your way around the room. Everything is going smooth, right until you spot one particular man in the crowd.

You’re in a little circle with a few designers when your gaze falls on Harry who is standing across the room, talking to two men. The champagne almost slips from your hand when you realize it’s him.

“Leslie,” you grab her wrist catching her attention. “Les, who’s the man in the blue Gucci suit?” you ask in a whisper and she follows your gaze, finding the man in talk.

“Oh, that’s Harry Styles, head of Twisted.”

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you quickly excuse yourself from the conversation and head out to the balcony to get some fresh air before you faint right on the spot.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Leslie follows you.

“I messed up,” you squeak as you step outside, the chilly evening air hitting your uncovered skin immediately. “I messed up big time!”

“What? Why? What happened?”

Stepping to the edge, you wrap your hands around the railing, staring out into the void for a moment. Leslie Stands beside you, quite puzzled about your sudden panic.

“Remember the guy I told you about from Friday night?” you ask, keeping your voice down even though there’s no one really around. Leslie nods. “Well… he was the guy.”

Leslie glances back inside and then at you before her eyes widen and lips part in shock.

“You fucked Harry Styles at a club’s bathroom?!” she whisper-yells at you and you feel like a teenager who is getting scolded.

“I didn’t know who he was! And I genuinely think he didn’t know me either, how could he?! But now he is here and… Oh God, this is so bad,” you whine, your head dropping backwards as you let out a frustrated growl.

“Okay, don’t panic. Maybe… maybe he doesn’t remember you.”

“You can’t make me believe he doesn’t remember me after fucking me on a counter,” you tell her giving her a look.

“Alright, alright. Then… you just have to suck it up. It’s not like you can unfuck him,” she shrugs and though you know she is right, you just wish you could leave right now.

You never planned on seeing him again. Your bullshit speech about letting fate decide it was just an excuse to not give him your number. You didn’t want to because you thought he is not the kind of man that would be good for you. From his look you thought that he was either a fuckboy, not willing to commit to anything serious, or the kind of man that seems all nice and respectful at first but then turns out to be a total asshole and you’ve had enough of those in your twenty-eight years.

Soon enough you head back as the auction is about to start. Luckily, your seat is far away from Harry and it seems like he hasn’t noticed you yet. Though you wish to keep it that way, you can feel it coming already.

The auction goes by fast, you buy a new painting that will look amazing in your living room and almost twice as much money is raised through the evening that was the goal. You leave Leslie behind at the table as you go to the bar to get yourself another drink, probably your last one of the evening if you don’t want to end up making a fool out of yourself.

Patiently waiting at the bar you’re already thinking about watching Grey’s Anatomy when you get back and out of this tight dress. You look hot, but it’s not the comfiest look, if you’re being honest. There’s only one more person in front of you when you feel a little tap on your shoulder and turning around your stomach drops when you see the man you’ve been trying to avoid all evening.

“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N,” he nods shortly, his expression is quite blank, but he is definitely not shocked to see you. You tighten your jaw before looking away from him, squinting your eyes a bit.

“You don’t seem surprised,” you point out.

“I was kind of expecting to see you here tonight.”

“So you knew who I was all along?” you snap at him, but he shakes his head.

“Not until the stream this week. I was pretty shocked when you walked on stage.”

Nodding shortly you brush your hair over your shoulder and you catch Harry glimpsing down your body, but decide not to comment on it.

“Did you know who I was?” he then asks, digging his hands into his pockets.

“No, I wouldn’t sleep with my biggest competitor willingly.”

“Just from the abrupt ending I had a feeling that you might have known me.”

“Just because a woman doesn’t throws herself into your arms after a fuck, doesn’t mean she had ulterior motives,” you scoff. “Get off your high horse,” you add before turning back towards the bar so you can order your drink. Unfortunately, Harry doesn’t want the conversation to end just yet. His hand is laid flat on the counter in front of you as he stands on your right, a little too close to your liking. You can smell the expensive cologne on him, the same that hit your nose on Friday as well and suddenly your body is betraying you.

However crazy the situation is, you can’t deny that he gave you one of the best times last Friday. Men you dealt with were more concerned about their own pleasure and most of them didn’t even get you to finish. But Harry made it happen so fast and didn’t even bitch about it when you made him rub your clit. He just obeyed like a grownup man who is willingly take care of his partner. That almost made you change your mind about leaving, but once you came down from cloud nine, you returned to your original plan.

But not as he is standing in front of you and you can smell him, your senses trick you into thinking that you’re in that bathroom again, almost aching for him to touch you the way he did then. He leans closer to your ear as he speaks up again.

“Leave the drink, dance with me,” he tells you as the bartender places your drink in front of you. You debate what to do before grabbing the drink and chugging it down in one go. You’ll need the alcohol if you are about to dance with your enemy.

Harry takes you to the dance floor in the middle of the ball room, one of his hands finds the small of your back while the other takes your hand as the two of you start swaying to the gentle music played by the band.

“Your aunt set my company back in women’s fashion every time I tried to take a step forward. Are you going to do the same?”

“She didn’t do anything to set you back but to build her own company. Not everything is about you.”

“You sound a little naïve, Love. It’s pretty clear you are new in the business.” This statement riles you up big time. How dare he degrade you like that? He knows nothing about you, yet he assumes things that are not at all real.

Smirking to yourself you lean back enough so your gazes can meet. Your hand slides up from his shoulders to the base of his neck so your fingers can gently brush against his skin and you notice the shudder than runs down his spine. He is not the only one having flashbacks from your last encounter.

“Wanna know what I know about business?” you purr, his eyes glued to your red lips as you speak. “I know that… Twisted was one of the last sites to participate in personalized ads on online platforms, failing to reach it’s targeted audience as fast as literally everyone else. I know that your company and my company use the same security system in our server rooms yet I can assure you that it cost me twenty percent less because we waited a month before installing it and got a huge last minute discount because the security company was trying to boost their numbers for their end of year closing. And I also happen to know that you are working on a new design for your website that could easily be outshone if I just did the same before you could do it.”

Harry’s lips part, probably mostly at the last information. He has no idea how you know these stuff, but you have a wide circle of connections in the city, you have an insider at every big companies in the industry without them even knowing. You’ve given countless tips to your aunt through the years, that’s how she managed to stay on top of her games.

Leaning closer your lips almost brush against him and you see how he weakens, he is expecting you to kiss him and he wants it. But you just smile at him, your eyes snapping down to his lips before up to his eyes.

“I will not do the same as my aunt, Harry,” you softly speak, your fingers grazing the back of his neck. “I will do way worse things.”

And with that, you slip out of his arms and walk back to your table, leaving him standing there alone at a complete loss of words.

“What the fuck had gotten into you?” Niall grimaces upon hearing everything he told you on the evening of the charity event. And quite frankly, Harry has no answer to that. He has absolutely no idea what had gotten into him to act like such a dick when you didn’t do anything against him.

The situation just messed with his head, seeing you in that breathtaking dress, mingling with everyone, smiling and laughing, oh how he wished you were laughing on his jokes! But then you seemed so tensed when he came up to you and something just switched in him. He wanted to take dominance, to somehow get out of it on top, but he miserably failed. When you brought up their plans to change the design he completely froze.

“No idea, okay? I just…lost it,” he growls, sinking into the couch. When Niall found out that Harry met the woman from the club again he insisted on coming over with some wine to talk it out, but he was not expecting this kind of story at all.

“Dude, you just put yourself on her radar big time, maybe she wouldn’t have even bothered to compete with you like her aunt did, but you surely changed her mind now.”

“I know, Niall!” Harry growls, not in the mood to be scolded like a little child. “Do you think she’ll change their design before we do?” he peeks at his friend, but Niall just shrugs.

“No idea, but I would try to speed it up before she actually does it.”

Harry made you into a ticking bomb and you successfully got under his skin about the whole design project so first thing the next morning he went to Zayn to discuss a possible earlier debut for the new designs. Though it would be a close stretch, they agreed that it would go live by the end of the week and that got Harry somehow a little relieved, but in the middle of that he failed to put the right amount of effort into finding designers for their female lines.

When he meets up with Lambert a few days later he is not there to deliver great news. Apparently, three out of the four designers they were negotiating with recently pulled out of their deal and signed a contract with Cometa.

“We have one last designer on the list, but then… we are out of the bigger names,” Lambert sighs as Harry chews on his bottom lip anxiously. He feels like he has fallen into a hole a while ago and instead of climbing out he is just digging it deeper underneath him.

“Okay, do we have an appointment with them?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, I’m meeting her this afternoon.”

“I’m going with you,” he nods before standing from his chair and opening the door he calls out for his assistant. “Rebecca, please clear my schedule for this afternoon, I’ll be out of the office.”

Rebecca nods behind her desk, already starting to make calls about Harry’s meetings and appointments.

It’s obvious he is anxious about the meeting, because if it falls through they are forced to look for less known designers and that won’t bring the change for the company they’ve been seeking for a long time. Arriving to the showroom where the designer is working, Harry is setting his thoughts straight, determined to convince her to sign a contract with them. The two men are let into the building by the nice assistant working at the front desk and she shows the way to the showroom where Kennedy, the designer is waiting for them.

Harry is confident, he trusts his skills to make this happen, but when they walk inside he instantly freezes upon seeing an all too familiar figure standing with Kennedy

A maroon colored pantsuit is hugging your curves, a Hermés handbag hanging from your arm, your hair falling in loose curls. As if you could sense his presence, you peek over your shoulder, a devilish smirk on your lips when you see the shocked expression on Harry’s face.

“What a great surprise!” you beam, selling how happy you are to see him and in a way, you are. You wanted to see his face drop when he realizes you snatched yet another designer from him.

“Oh, Mr. Styles!” Kennedy smiles nicely at him and he finally snaps out of his trance, shaking hands with her and then turning to you, doing the same but in a lot colder manner.

“Y/N, nice to see you again,” he fakes a smile as your hand falls from his palm.

“I could say the same. But I’m heading out now. Great talk, Kennedy. I’ll be waiting for your call,” you wink at the young designer who seems to be thrilled by your words as she walks you to the exit.

“Fucking hell,” Harry mumbles under his breath and Lambert shoots him a look before Kennedy returns.

The three of them take a seat on the couches in the corner of the room and Harry is quick to get down to business, trying his best to make his offer appear more appealing than anything you told her right before their arrival. Kennedy listens intently, even takes notes and then she shows him some examples of what she was thinking about for her next line and Harry is beyond thrilled.

Unfortunately, soon comes the painful part.

“Harry, I’m gonna be honest with you,” Kennedy starts and Harry already knows what she is about to say. “Your offer is very tempting and it would be an honor to design a line for Twisted, but in my situation it would be more beneficial if I collaborated with Cometa. It is nothing against your company, it’s more about my personal path and growth.”

Harry can feel his stomach dropping and he clenches his jaw as he listens to Kennedy’s worth. He understands, of course he understands, she has the right to selfishly look at her own benefits upon signing with a new company, but he wished she would take the risk and chose his company instead of yours.

“I’m keeping the offer open for you still,” he forces a smile on his face. “If you change your mind, Twisted would be more than happy to work with you.”

Kennedy walks the two men out and the fake smile quickly vanishes from Harry’s face upon stepping out of the building.

“What are we going to do now?” Lambert asks, clearly worried about how they’re gonna move forward with their last chance falling.

“If Y/N wants a war, that’s what she’ll get,” Harry growls, revenge burning in the greens of his eyes.

It’s a quiet Friday afternoon, only hours left from the day before you are headed home finally. You’re sitting in your office with Leslie, going over next week’s schedule to make sure everything is set and clear.

It’s been almost an entire month since you stepped into your aunt’s shoes as head of the company and though the start was a little rough, especially with finding out who Harry was, but you feel like you have everything under your control by now. After all, you didn’t learn business for years from the bests for nothing, right?

Harry’s comment on you knowing nothing about the industry made you bitter, because he knows nothing about you and the struggle you went through your life to get to this point. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbow, being Julia’s niece might have been a hugely influencing aspect of you taking over, but you worked your ass off to be the best leader you can and not just ruin everything she built up through her whole life.

Though you didn’t always want to be the one following her, but you like to think that things worked out to your favor and you are where you should be.

“Alright, everything is looking fine,” Leslie smiles at you over her laptop. “I’ll send you the notes from today’s meeting.”

“Thank you. Can you call in with the delivery company about next month’s transactions?” you ask her and she nods, already adding it to her list of tasks for the rest of the day. “Alright. I’ll do the rest of the signings and then we can head out,” you smile at her.

Leslie is grabbing her things from the table when there’s a soft knock on the door. You give your permission and one of the tech support guys walk in with a worried look on his face.

“Miss Y/L/N? I’m afraid we have a problem,” he clears his throat and you can already feel your anxiety crawl up on your spine.

“What is it?” you ask firmly. The guy steps farther inside, fumbling with his fingers as he presents the issue.

“There’s been an attempt to break our software’s security system where we keep our data about the sellings. A-And I’m afraid it wasn’t just an attempt, they succeeded.”

You take a deep breath, glancing over at Leslie for a moment before you follow the man to the tech department to investigate the issue further. You don’t know shit about these stuff, but from what he said you know the trouble is huge and if you don’t solve it as soon as possible, valuable data could leak out to the public. They try to explain you what they are working on as of right now and that there’s not much you can actually help with.

“Make sure to put your extra hours on your attendance sheets and let me know when you are able to restore the system,” you tell them and you earn quite a few thank yous on your way out for actually paying the overtime. Then you turn to the guy that first came to your office. “Do you have any information about who it could have been?”

“We weren’t able to track them back, but whoever it was, they’re surely professionals and they might know the system from the inside.”

“What do you mean from the inside? Someone did it from the company?” you ask, eyebrows knitting together as you fold your arms on your chest.

“No,” he shakes his head. “We would have been able to track that back. I mean that they know the system, maybe they worked somewhere where the same one was used and they could see into it.”

It takes you a few moments before you realize what this really is and it has your blood boiling right away. Nodding shortly you exhale sharply through your nose.

“Thank you, please call me when it’s up and running again, I’ll take care of the rest,” you tell him before turning around you walk away.

When Leslie sees you approaching your office with a head practically turning red she is quick to jump to her feet, following you into the office.

“What’s happening?”

“Harry Styles, that’s what happening,” you snap as you grab your phone, purse and coat before heading out, not wasting another minute.

“What? Where are you going now?”

“To the devil himself,” you growl back and enter the elevator, leaving her alone with her questions.

Sitting in your car on your way to the headquarters of Twisted, you imagine every scenario you want to make happen when you arrive, most of them including hitting the man across his ridiculously handsome yet annoying face. He crossed a line with breaking into your system and stealing valuable data. Though you’re sure he wouldn’t dare to sell or publish it, because he would be in a big legal trouble if he did, he still had a glimpse into your numbers and that’s already an advantage. He is playing dirty and you’re not having any of it.

Arriving you burst through the doors and demand to see him. Though the woman behind the front desk tells you that you can’t see him without an appointment, you still get her to make a call up and naturally, Harry allows you to see him. The fucker might already have been waiting for you to show up. As you stand in the all glass elevator, on your way up to meet him you take a few deep breaths to keep your cool and not snap like a maniac, however it all vanishes when you see him waiting for you with that shit-eating grin on his face when you step out of the elevator.

“You’re lucky I didn’t go straight to the police with your little stunt, you fucker!” you snap, not able to hold back your swearing any longer.

“Do you have any evidence?” he tilts his head to the side and you don’t miss how his gaze runs down your body as you march towards him. You’d find it flattering in another situation, but right now you just want to punch him in the face.

“I’ll show some evidence down your throat, Styles, if you don’t stop messing with my security system,” you growl back, standing so close to him now that you see every tiny freckle and blemish on his face and the way how he clenches his jaw, holding his gaze on yours.

Without a word or invitation, you walk into the room that you suppose is his office and he follows with a soft chuckle.

“Did you hire a hacker just to mess with me?” you throw the question at him as he closes the door so his employees don’t hear everything.

“What if I did?” he shrugs, stepping to the tray on his desk that already has a glass of whiskey on it. He grabs the glass and simply lifts it to his lips, taking a tiny sip from it. “Oh, excuse my manners. Would you like a drink?”

“I’m driving,” you answer shortly. “You crossed a line, Harry,” you warn him.

“What line?” he chuckles, rather entertained by your rage. “After what you pulled with Kennedy, I think I went easy on you.”

“I didn’t pull anything, I just gave her a better offer! It’s not my fault she has better chances with my company!” you snap back, feeling your heartbeat fastening from the anger that’s boiling in your veins.

“You knew I wanted her to design for me, why couldn’t you just let one person out of your endless list? You already have everyone else, she was my last fucking chance!” Harry barks back, clearly having some built up tension in him as well.

“If you didn’t act like an arrogant asshole at the charity gala, I would have happily let you work with her, but then you felt the need to fucking degrade me! That’s why I didn’t let you get away with it!”

Harry opens his mouth to answer, but he quickly closes his mouth, probably knowing well you’re right. He did act shitty towards you that evening and he has no excuse for his behavior. You walk closer until there are just a few feet between the two of you, your eyes glued to his burning green gaze that’s staring back at you, but before you could speak up, he cuts you off.

“Well, you know. All is fair in… war and business,” he shrugs and you honestly barely can stop yourself from laughing at how stupid that just sounded. You can’t miss the twitch in the corner of his mouth as well and you can’t believe how easily he made you break out of your rage.

“Don’t try to make money out of writing slogans,” you huff shaking your head and now he is grinning widely. “Do you have the data?”

“I don’t,” he answers and you narrow your eyes at him.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” he chuckles. “I had it, but I already deleted it. I know it wasn’t ethical so as soon as it was handed to me I deleted it. I didn’t even look into it. I just wanted to scare you.”

“And how do I know your hacker doesn’t have it either?”

“Because he signed a contract that would cost him millions to break and I don’t think a junior in college who is still living in a dorm can afford that,” he points out and now you are somewhat convinced. You stare back at him for a few more seconds before nodding.

“Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours, how does that sound?” you offer generously.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he questions with a smug smirk that makes your arch an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing tomorrow evening?” he then asks and you can’t mask your surprise in front of him.

“That does not concern you, Styles,” you scoff, though it boosts your ego that even through all the hate you’ve been targeting at each other, he still wants you the same way he did at the club that evening. You can’t deny, this rivalry has sparked a few thoughts in you as well, but you are not going to fall into the same mistake you made that evening. You pay him another smirk before turning around and heading towards the door. “Stay out of my way, Styles!” you call back without looking at him, but you just know he is grinning at you, a growing sexual tension thickening the atmosphere in the room.

“Or what?” he smugly questions and you stop at the door, glancing back at him over your shoulder.

“Or… You said it yourself. All is fair in war and business,” you smirk before walking out of the office.

Following your visit to Harry’s office things take a… playful turn in your rivalry. The attempts and competing don’t stop, both of you are on each other’s radar, ruining and messing with each other’s projects and works whenever and wherever it’s possible, but it’s not as hateful as it was at the beginning. If something, it even helps you to always be on your toes and watch out for possible threats, not just from Harry but from everyone else.

Neither of you succeeds in evolving in each other’s field, Cometa keeps thriving in women’s fashion with a quite small variety offered for the gentlemen while Twisted fails to grow out of men’s fashion and venture to the ladies, but somehow it’s not as frustrating as it used to be before.

Harry keeps up his flirty acts and tries to ask you out every time your paths cross each other, but you relentlessly turn him down every time, only fueling him to keep chasing after you more the next time. It’s a thrilling and flattering little game, knowing that even with all the rivalry between the two of you, being the biggest competitors in the business… he still wants you.

New York fashion week rolls around and it’s by far one of your favorite times in the year. You managed to snatch an exclusive deal with YSL to release a special line just for the fashion week and it sold out in the first two hours, now waiting to be restocked in a few days. Cometa is thriving and your aunt has expressed her pride towards the work you’ve been doing at the company, so things are heading the right direction.

You knew Harry would be attending the same shows as you, but it’s fate or just luck that you are seated next to each other at one of the shows, giving you the chance to talk without any of you attempting to corrupt the other this time.

Harry is already sitting in his seat when you arrive wearing a custom made Gucci dress, something that immediately catches his eyes since he is a huge fan of the brand himself.

“Your fashion sense never disappoints, Y/N,” he beams up at you as you take the seat next to him.

“Hope that’s not surprising, Styles,” You smirk at him, taking a glance at his own Gucci outfit, the checkered pants fitting him perfectly while the pussy bow adds some spice to the whole outfit, you have to admit. He looks good, he always does.

“Any plans after the show?” he asks right before the lights go out and the show starts. You leave him without an answer, just let out a soft chuckle as you glue your eyes to the first model who walks the runway.

Once the show is over you head out with Harry by your side, having an actually entertaining discussion about the designs you just saw. He might not be an expert in fashion, but he has developed a good sense through his years.

As you make your way out of the venue you are stopped by an interviewer and Harry remains on your side as the woman asks you a few questions about the show.

“I’ve always wondered, does it bother you that you couldn’t be on the runway yourself? You’ve been sitting front row the past years, but you once had aspirations of being a model yourself, is that right?”

The question makes you tense up and you can feel Harry’s puzzled look on you from the side.

“It’s not like it was my fault for not making it up there,” you sass back, forcing a smile to your face.

“Well, that’s not entirely true,” the woman chuckles and it has your blood boiling, because you know the real meaning behind her words.

It’s your fault you didn’t become a model because you were never thin enough to be one. It was your fault and not the industry’s to hold impossible standards to women who wanted to succeed as a model.

The smile falters from your face and you take a long, judgmental look at the woman in front of you. Because if she is brave enough to talk like that to you, you’re not gonna shy away from bringing her spirits down either.

“Judging from your appearance and attitude you wouldn’t make it either,” you spitefully reply and her smile quickly fades, clearly shocked at your answer. You open your mouth again, ready to continue, but then you feel a hand on the small of your back and you realize Harry is still standing next to you.

“Come on, we have somewhere to be, right?” he smiles kindly as you just simply nod and walk away from the woman before she could offend you again.

Harry senses your tension as the two of you leave the venue but doesn’t try to talk to you and that’s a wise choice from him. As you step out of the building you realize that if you went home now you’d probably get drunk on your own and let that comment get to you more than you should. So instead of doing that you turn to Harry.

“So, what are our plans?” you ask and you don’t miss the small smile on his lips as he stares back at you.

Not in the mood to stay around people at a bar you accept Harry’s invitation to his place, since it’s also close. The contrast between his extravagant penthouse and your cozy but still quite modern townhouse in Park Slope is major, but you didn’t expect anything less from the man.

You’ve managed to calm down since you left the venue, but you’re still quite bitter about the comment the woman made. Harry hasn’t tried to ask you about it, but you can tell he is dying to know more about the situation that’s behind the madness.

He fixes you a drink and you find yourself sinking into his comfortable and probably ridiculously expensive couch in his living room area.

“I used to want to be a model,” you start, breaking the silence that settled between the two of you. “When I was a teen. I was a lot thinner, I was a competitive dancer until I was seventeen, but I had a knee injury, so I had to quit.”

Harry sits on the other end of the couch, listening to you with patience as he sips on his own drink.

“I was never as thin as the other models at the agency I was trying to get into, but I definitely wasn’t overweight. Yet, they labelled me as a plus size model. I was a healthy, strong young girl with a perfectly good body, yet they told me that I was too fat to be a model.”

Glancing at Harry, you can tell that he is surprised at the information he just learned. He is probably picturing you thinner now, going to model castings and if you’re being honest you enjoyed that part. The trouble came when you got rejection after rejection, telling you to lose weight and come back after that.

“I quit my whole plan to be a model and studied fashion and business instead, consciously working my way towards this point. But I never got over how the industry made me feel less of a person because I wasn’t a size zero.”

For a few long moments Harry just stares at you and it’s actually nice that he doesn’t try to make you feel better right away, praising you how you are perfect just the way you are. Because you’re not, but that’s fine because no one is.

“I’ve honestly never seen a more cruel industry than fashion before,” he then speaks up. “I didn’t grow up in it and still don’t really have that much and deep connection with it, but I know how fucked up it is. And it’s nice to see that you know your worth even after everything that happened.”

Your gaze meets his and you’re looking for any sign that gives away that he is just messing with you, but it’s all genuine. You just shoot him a small smile before lifting your drink to your lips. It’s the most intimate moment you’ve shared with him, including the ones you had in that bathroom.

“Okay, now you tell me something about your life,” you prompt, wanting to divert the conversation on him a little bit.

“What do you want to know?” he asks with a soft chuckle.

“Why did you name your brand Twisted?” you ask. The question has been on your mind for a while.

“It’s coming from my mum’s name. Anne Twist.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, you weren’t expecting such a deep and personal reason behind the name, connected to a family member.

“Why her?”

“Why not?” he smirks shrugging his shoulders. “She raised me and my sister up, I wouldn’t be here without her. It was obvious I would make her be part of it in some kind of way.”

“That’s actually very nice. Who knew that you could be something other than an egoistic asshole!” you joke, making him laugh as well.

“Okay, what’s the meaning behind your brand?” he then turns it back around.

“Well, my aunt met her husband when they were very young, maybe eighteen. She fell in love with Fabio on her trip to Italy and being the impulsive and adventurous woman that she is, she stayed for a month there just because of Fabio. He is a very passionate man and he was always ready to bring the stars down for Julia. He always used to tell her that he would even catch a comet for her, if that’s what she wanted. And that was my aunt’s favorite saying from him. Cometa is comet in Italian. It’s her tribute to the love of her life.”

“That’s easily the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” Harry hums and you just smile nodding at him. It really is like a fairytale and it’s also one of the reasons why you were so happy to take her place at Cometa. Julia is still just as in love with Fabio as she was at eighteen and she deserves to spend more time with her beloved husband. She earned the time off after all the sacrifices she made for the company and all through them Fabio stayed by her side. It’s their well-earned happy ending now.

“You know a lot about romantic things?” you cock an eyebrow at him, finishing up your drink.

“Actually, I’m a quite romantic guy.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah, you just never gave me the chance to show it to you.”

“Oh, so now I’m the bad guy?” you chuckle, handing him your glass when he stands from the couch to get you a refill.

“Exactly!” he chuckles holding up your empty glass on his way. “I hope you know you absolutely broke my heart when you didn’t give me your number that night.”

“Oh, you poor little thing,” you chuckle, resting your head in your palm, your elbow on the back of the couch. “I’m not sorry though. You didn’t give out the right vibes.”

“The right vibes?” he huffs as he returns with your drink and now sits a little closer to you. “What vibe did I give you?” “The vibe that told me I shouldn’t mess with you,” you simply answer as you take a sip from your refilled drink.

“You were so keen on hating me even before you knew who I was, I can’t believe you,” he chuckles shaking his head.

“I’m just cautious!” you protest. “I’ve dealt with some problematic men in the past, I can’t let myself walk right into another one that easily.”

“What did they do?”

“Some men just can’t treat women right. Especially confident ones with a body like mine,” you simply shrug.

Men like to think that bigger girls are so terribly insecure about their body that they need the validation of a male to feel good about themselves. But when you’re confident and feel good in your own skin without needing them to praise you, they think that you’re egoistic, so full of yourself and they are quick to try to drag you down. That’s something you can’t tolerate. You don’t need a man to feel good about yourself, you don’t need anyone for that. You know your worth and that’s all that matters.

Harry’s eyes travel down your body, taking his time on your curves and you smile shaking your head as you reach out and cupping his chin you pull his head up so he is looking into your eyes.

“I honestly can’t see what problem anyone could have with your body. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since our bathroom fiasco,” he bluntly comments making you chuckle, even flattered by his words.

“You are such a flirt,” you grin at him and he doesn’t try to protest.

You stay for a couple more drinks and you drop the heavier topics, venturing over to music, fashion and any funny stories that come to your mind. Harry is actually amazing company when you’re not trying to jump at each other’s throat and for a few short hours you forget that he is supposed to be your competitor.

You’re a little tipsy, but you are definitely not drunk, so when Harry offers you to stay the night you turn it down, calling yourself a car since you are not in the right state to drive.

“I’ll come and pick my car up in the morning,” you breathe out as you put your heels back on that came off your feet sometime during the evening, making yourself home in his place.

“I’ll text you the security number to the garage,” he nods, walking you to the elevator.

“Thank you. And… I guess thank you for the evening,” you smile at him, turning to face him. He is standing close, but still takes a step closer, one of his hands finding your waist as he pulls you against his chest. Your palms lie flat on his chest as you try to get yourself to the right mindset to leave now before you regret doing something. Leaning down his nose nudges against your cheek, before he presses a soft kiss under below your ear, a sigh escaping your lips.

“I should go, the car is here,” you breathe out, but don’t move.

“Mm, okay,” he hums, his lips peppering kisses on your jaw and your cheek, as if you didn’t say a word. You want to continue it, not just because of the alcohol but because the sexual tension between the two of you has been growing since that charity gala, but the remainder of your rationality stops you before your lips could meet.

“Bye Harry,” you smile at him softly as you push him away and you walk into the elevator, leaving him hanging. Again.

“Bye Y/N. I’m still going to try to ruin your company!” he calls after you as you turn around to face him, the sliding doors slowly closing between the two of you.

“Same back at you, Styles,” you smirk before the door closes and you are taken down.

Well, that was a lie. Following your evening at his place neither of you really tries to work against the other, leaving each other be without any fuss. It might also have something to do with how you kept in touch after that day. You’ve been texting occasionally, attending some events together, even had a business dinner together with a few other peers from the industry. Things have been quiet and you’ve been feeling content with the current state you’ve managed to reach. Or so you thought.

It was a silent agreement between the two of you. You both put your projects aside that targeted the other’s profile. Harry stopped looking for designers for his women lines and you put your men department to the side as well. There were a lot to work on beside these fields so you felt like you were in peace. Right until Leslie bursts into your office on a casual Tuesday.

“Have you seen this?” she asks, placing a tablet in front of you with an Instagram account open on it.

You want to ask what you’re supposed to look at, but then you realize what it really is. A shiny new account for a new brand that promises to take online shopping to the next level; female and male as well.

“You think it could be…?” you ask, not quite convinced that Harry is behind this.

“Well, the wording is similar to theirs and creating a new brand might be a solution to their gap in women’s fashion,” she points it out, though you don’t want to believe he could have been working on this all along, basically in front of your face.

But it’s a possibility and you have to consider this option before jumping into defending him without any proof.

“Men can’t be trusted,” you grumble under your breath before jumping into work.

What you didn’t know is that an eerily similar situation goes down in Harry’s office as well when Zayn bursts in, showing him the ad he found for the new brand called Farfalla.

Harry immediately digs up everything about the company, though there’s not much other than their new Instagram account and heavy marketing that started just yesterday.

“What is Farfalla even?” he grimaces leaning back in his chair.

“It means butterfly in Italian,” Zayn explains and Harry’s eyes flicker up to him.

“Italian? You think it’s her?”

“It’s possible,” Zayn nods. “Starting a new brand to finally reach men’s fashion is a good idea.”

“She wouldn’t have done this,” Harry shakes his head in disbelief. Could you be working on this all along? Was this your plan from the start? To make him fall for you and forget about business while you built up your new empire to ruin him?

“What if she did?” Zayn prompts and in a way his suspicion is valid, but Harry is having a hard time believing it. You would never play him this dirty, not after how the two of you have grown closer in the past weeks, almost became friends.

“What are you going to do?” Zayn asks him as he pushes himself away from the desk and quite obviously starts getting ready to leave.

“She is not getting away from this,” Harry mumbles under his breath as he grabs his coat and phone before storming out of the office.

It’s past six when Harry gets to Cometa’s building and he is informed that you’ve already went home. He could have just come back in the morning, but he knew he would just stew in his own anger if he didn’t talk to you as soon as possible. So using his charm he gets the woman sitting behind the front desk to share your address with him, saying that he needs to talk to you urgently. That’s how he finds himself heading to Park Slope, slightly surprised you are not living somewhere in the heart of Manhattan.

As the scenery around his changes, skyscrapers turning into brick buildings and townhouses, Harry tries to figure out what he even wants to say to you. Should he just get straight down to business and accuse you? Snap at you? Or should he give you the chance to explain yourself? He can’t really make up his mind, mostly because he still feels like you betrayed him even though he can’t be sure Farfalla is yours.

Parking down at the address he got from the woman, he stares up at the deep red brick townhouse, a simple, black door at the top of the stairs that’s lined with a few potted plants and flowers. This is not what he would have imagined your home like, but now that he is standing on your doormat, he realizes it kind of suits you.

Ringing the bell he hopes that you’re home and not out and about somewhere in the city, but when he hears the familiar sound of heels clicking on the floor he knows you are on the other side. When the front door flings open and you come into his sight, for a split second he forgets why he is here and his anger vanishes. As always, you look amazing, a tight, black dress hugging your curves, the middle part appearing like it’s a corset, emphasizing the dip of your waist. Your hair is let down in loose curls and your feet are bare, but he knows you probably wore heels all day. You must have gotten home not long ago and as your eyes fall on the man at the door, your expression hardens on him.

“You really had the balls to come her, huh?” you cock your head to the side, keeping your eyes on his green ones for a moment before you let him inside.

“Did you think you could get away with it?” he huffs walking into the hallway and stopping as you close the door and turn to him.

“Me? I could say the same! You thought I would just ignore it or what? I proved you a few times that I’m not stupid, Harry,” you retort, folding your arms on your chest as you walk past him, into the kitchen and he follows.

“You surely are not stupid, playing me so dirty behind my back!” Harry spats standing his ground. “Playing all friendly and nice and then make a fool out of me!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you question narrowing your eyes at him as you lean against the kitchen island’s counter. “If anyone played dirty it’s you! And you have the balls to come here and talk like this to me in my own fucking home?!” you snap, walking closer to him, keeping your deathly glare on him.

“What the fuck did I do?!” he scoffs throwing his hands into the air.

“You created a whole new brand just to fuck with me! Or did you think I wouldn’t find out about it?!”

“Me? You made a new brand! And you didn’t do a great job hiding the fact that it was your work, even the name is Italian, like your current one!”

You stare back at him, tilting your head to the side as you process what he is talking about. All along, the two of you were accusing each other of something neither of you did.

“Harry,” you breathe out, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Farfalla is not my brand.”

“And I’m supposed to believe it?!”

“Well you better be because it’s the fucking truth!”

“Prove it!” he hisses at you, taking a step closer, his face only inches away from yours now.

“Until about twenty seconds ago I thought that it was your new brand, Harry. I thought that you were the one who backstabbed me!” you snap back, standing up for yourself in this giant misunderstanding you fell into, accusing each other without any proof.

Harry stares back at you, his gaze burning into yours as he stands his ground and you can almost see the gears turning in his head as he processes your words.

“So… it’s not yours? You didn’t do it to fuck me up?”

“Of course not!” you breathe out, suddenly quite tired of all the anger that’s been eating you away through the afternoon. “I thought that we had a kind of silent agreement not to mess with each other so I wasn’t planning anything anytime soon. That’s why I got so mad when I thought you did it!”

“I thought the same!” he growls shaking his head. “I thought you did it all to just make me look stupid, that the friendly act was just so I wouldn’t notice a thing and I fell right into your trap.”

“There was no trap,” you simply tell him and you hope he senses the hidden meaning behind your words.

Luckily he does. But for your biggest surprise there’s no snarky comment or smug smirking, he just steps closer and before you could even protest, his hands find your waist and he pulls you against his hard chest, lips hungry attacking yours. He makes you back until you bump against the kitchen island, his hips pressing against yours as he pushes you against the hard surface, his hands wandering on your sides and back, up and down, exploring every curve of your body while his kisses never slow down, your tongues meeting in the middle.

Bringing up a leg you curl it around his hips, your heel digging into his round ass as he leans forward, making you arch your back, leaning onto the counter as his lips move from your lips to your jawline and neck, his fingers digging into your waist and the thigh that’s lifted by his side. He nibbles on the soft skin of your neck, definitely leaving a mark, but you just comb your fingers through his hair, letting yourself get lost in the sensation.

“As much as I would love to fuck you on a counter again, can we take this to a bedroom?” he mumbles as he kisses his way back up to your lips, smirking against them as he captures them again.

You don’t answer, just grab his hand and pull him upstairs with you, right into your bedroom. He is all over you, lips, hands, tongue, pressed up against you as the two of you stumble your way to your king sized bed. Harry’s fingers fidget with the corset on your dress, but he soon realizes it’s a little trickier than he expected, so leaning back he furrows his eyebrows as he glances down at the dress, still trying to figure out how to get you out of it.

“Harry,” you smile at him softly. “It’s faux. There’s a zipper at the back,” you inform him and he sighs in defeat as he kisses you again, his fingers quickly finding the zipper. The dress pools at your feet and you rid him from his jacket and shirt, revealing his inked chest, a sight you’ve been thinking about way too much lately.

By the time the two of you fall to your bed, neither of you are dressed in more than just your underwear. Because both of you like to be in charge, you roll around for a while, trying to get on top of each other but eventually Harry stays up when he starts going down on you, kissing his way through your heated skin. You don’t shy away when his hands snake under your back and easily unclasps your bra, being bare in front of him is not something that makes you feel uncomfortable or insecure. The way he looks at you, the way he makes you feel brings you so much confidence, you have absolutely no problem being nude.

When your bra flies to the floor, Harry leans back a little to admire you lying there, before his lips find their way over the curve of your breasts, down your stomach. Hooking his fingers into the elastic of your panties he tugs them down easily as you lift your hips, your thighs parting as you bare yourself in front of him.

“Don’t be shy about screaming my name,” he smugly tells you before his lips and tongue meet your clit. Your fingers lace through his hair immediately as you gasp out at the sensation, his tongue drawing the whole fucking alphabet to your bundle of nerves. His arms curl around your thighs, ring clad fingers digging into your flesh as he sucks on the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Harry! Yes!” you moan out, tugging on his locks when he teases his tongue around your hole, your walls tightening around nothing as you are growing desperate to feel something inside of you.

You pull on his hair, signaling him that you want to get it on with, Hands reaching down to get rid of his boxer briefs before you blindly pull out the drawer of your nightstand, grabbing a condom. His lips eagerly meet yours as he wraps his erected cock and though you would love to have a taste of him like he did with you, you just want to feel him inside you.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he growls against your lips, teasing you with running just the head up and down your slit.

“If you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna rip your guts out,” you warn him, earning a soft chuckle as he kisses you again, tongue pushing into your mouth as he finally pushes inside you, his long, thick cock filling you up perfectly and it somehow feels even better than the first time.

“Go hard,” you gasp, a hand coming to grab his ass as you push him even further into you. He doesn’t need more, he starts slamming into you, his hips meeting yours roughly with each thrust, his whole length disappearing inside you every time.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck, licking and sucking on the soft skin. You almost think about telling him not to mark you, but it just turns you on even more so you let him do whatever he wants.

“I want to see you on top,” he pants, lifting his head so his gaze could meet yours. You nod, before the two of you turn around and you straddle his hips, guiding him back inside you as you sink down his length. Your hands are sprawled out on his hard chest as you find your balance in the position, Harry’s eyes roaming your body up and down, not able to get enough of how blissful you look, sitting with his cock buried inside of you, enjoying yourself to the fullest. His hands run up your thighs and upper body until they find your breasts, kneading them as you start moving your hips up and down, back and forth. When you moan his name or gasp because his cock reaches that one particular spot inside you, those are the moments he wishes he could capture on camera and watch whenever he wants.

“I want it from back,” you pant as you lean down and kiss him roughly. That’s all he needs, he helps you get off of him before you get on all four, pushing your butt up in the air while Harry kneels behind you, the sight in front of him hardening his cock even more, if that’s possible. His hands grab onto your waist as he pushes inside you, making you both let out a satisfied moan before he starts moving again.

“Fuck, you look so good like this, Y/N. I love your ass,” he growls, giving it a smack that surprises you, but you absolutely love it.

“Harry, go faster!” you whimper, feeling your orgasm nearing as you grip the comforter on the bed, desperate to reach your climax. You’re just about to reach down between your legs to play with your clit when Harry not only picks his pace up but also reaches around you, two of his fingers starting the circling motions on the bundle of nerves, making your legs shake from the pleasure.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me, cum all over my cock,” he growls, railing you from behind without missing a beat.

“Harry!” you scream when he thrusts into you so harshly, your whole body rocking in the motion.

“Come on, angel. Cum for me,” he murmurs and leaning down he wraps his arms around you, bringing you up straight, your back pressing against his sweaty chest, his hands coming to cup your breasts as he keeps thrusting up into you, pushing you over the edge.

You moan and gasp and scream his name as your walls tighten around his length, riding out your bliss and it helps him reach his own high, his hot breath hitting the back of your neck and shoulder, grunting and cursing under his breath as he fills the condom.

As his thrusts come to a halt, he sinks into a sitting position, bringing you with him, you lean against him feeling like jelly as you’re still just trying to catch your breath. Harry peppers your shoulder with small kisses before you muster the energy to break the position and lie down on the bed.

“Towel is in the bathroom,” you tell him knowing that’s what he’ll look for as he stands from the bed and you point at the door that leads to the joined bathroom. Harry nods and pads his way in there, cleaning himself up before he returns with a small damp towel, doing the same for you. He drops it to the floor next to the bed before joining you, cradling you into his arms as you take a breather together.

One hand is on your shoulder, fingers dancing on the naked skin, the other one is holding your thigh that’s across his lap while your head is resting on his chest.

“You really thought I would backstab you like that?” he hums after a while, breaking the comfortable silence.

“You did the same,” you answer, lifting your head, resting your chin on his chest.

“Touché,” he chuckles, before leaning down he kisses you shortly. “So, if neither of us did it, then we have a quite major problem on our hands.”

“I know,” you hum. “That shit looks promising and they can easily ruin both of us.”

Harry stays silent for a little, but you can see the gears turning in his head. When his gaze snaps back at you, you know he has an idea.

“Unless… we join forces.” Your eyebrows arch as you stare back at him. “I know it’s a risky move, but this is the only way to stay on the top.”

“How much you want to be joined?”

“We could start with just one line, the men part designed by someone from me and the women by someone from you. And if it presents well we can just figure out where to go from there. Obviously, the men part would be sold by us and the women by you, but we could join the pages and direct users to each other’s sites in connection with the lines.”

“That could… actually work,” you nod shortly, thinking about the idea. It needs a lot of planning, but it could actually be a big hit if you do it right. “And you’re willing to partner with me?” you ask cheekily as you push yourself up into a sitting position, Harry doing the same.

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m willing to do about anything with you,” he chuckles, making you smile at his playful answer. “I hope you know I’m not talking about just business,” he then adds with a meaningful look.

“You are still so keen on this?” you sigh, tugging your hair behind your ear.

“Do you not like being with me?��

“I do, surprisingly,” you roll your eyes, making him laugh.

“Do you not like having sex with me?”

“I think the answer is pretty obvious to that,” you give him a look as he smirks back at you.

“Yeah, but I want to hear it.”

“I enjoy having sex with you, Harry,” you roll your eyes again, but he just kisses you short but hard before leaning back.

“So then why shouldn’t we date?”

“Because we are competitors?”

“We just agreed that we should join forces. We are partners now.”

“You are running a little ahead, Harry,” you cock an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know, I haven’t been in a relationship in ages. I probably suck at it at this point,” you shrug, but it’s just a lame excuse and you both know that. Leaning closer Harry smirks at you smugly.

“I have something else you can suck.” You smack his chest at his nasty remark, but can’t push a smile back. His hand finds the back of your head as he pulls you in for another kiss. “I want you, Y/N. I really do. You are all I think about even when you are an annoying piece of shit, getting under my skin. I still want you.”

“Wow, so romantic,” you chuckle shaking your head. “What if we can’t get over our differences in the business? That can easily poison any relationship.”

“Then we’ll have a lot of mind-blowing angry and makeup sex. Those are the best. We can put all our frustration into sex, I think that’s just perfect.”

“What are you, a horny teenager? Sex is all you can think about?” you chuckle.

“It is when I’m lying in a bed with you naked. You can’t blame me,” he grins smugly and you want to hate him, you want to hate him so badly, but you can’t. You want him just as much as he wants you.

“So… partners?” he prompts, tilting his head to the side with a sweet smile as he waits for your answer.

“Partners in business and life?”

“Mhm, that’s the plan,” he nods, his smile growing wider with each passing second.

“Alright,” you breathe out. “So… it’s not—All is fair in war and business?” you ask teasingly, using his own words from earlier.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he laughs, pulling you in for another kiss.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

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