#fascinated with how this all could’ve gone down

[wynandcore]

Thinking Able thoughts imagine you’re on your way back to the garage after delivering a package or something and you look at the news and BAM your friend’s dead??? He got killed while you were out??? What the fuck??

[narryffdreaming]

lia and harry's story (two)

summary: harry is a bartender and lia lives right across the street. rating: +18 || warnings: mental health (anxiety) and smut (here and there) word count: 15,7k

(ONE)

Harry never texted her. 

Of course he didn’t. And it wasn’t as if Lia actually expected him to, but then why did he even bother asking for her number in the first place? Why pretend he wanted to talk to her? Why pretend there was the slight chance they would ever interact again?

Lia tightened the grip around her grocery bag and sighed. Her mind was about to explode. It really was. She was too tired, and not even the fact that it was already Friday and the weekend was ahead of her was enough to cheer her up. 

There was just too much going on. She couldn’t stop thinking, so she hadn’t been sleeping very well. 

After Harry had left her apartment, Lia had locked the door and leaned her back against it. And then she’d closed her eyes and recalled everything that had just happened — from Harry running after her, to him looking one last time over his shoulder and waving one final goodbye before walking down the stairs.

Their interaction had started for the wrong reasons, but it had been too good to be true, and not at all a fantasy of her mind. 

Harry standing in her living room had been real. His words, his stare, his smile. The sound of his laughter. The way he had cared about apologizing to her… 

It had all been real, it had all actually happened. 

And it had stirred a new feeling of excitement in the pit of her stomach. It had made her walk to the kitchen with a massive grin on her face, then giggle to herself while preparing things for the next day. 

Then of course, as minutes went by, everything she had just spent weeks promising herself she wouldn’t do anymore, happened all over again. 

She wasn’t proud of it. She tried to stop herself, but she couldn’t. No matter how innocent his actions had been, they were enough to fuel her with endless ideas and possibilities of how that night could’ve ended instead. And although she felt terribly embarrassed to admit, for more than one second she’d allowed herself to truly entertain those thoughts.

She imagined a conversation where she had been interesting and fun enough to captivate him. Or to fascinate him, just as much as he had fascinated her. She imagined her acting confident enough to seduce him, confident enough to flirt with him. She imagined Harry reciprocating the feeling. And a moment where, instead of leaving to go back to work, Harry ended up touching her freely and thoroughly. She imagined him hugging her, kissing her. Making her feel everything she so desperately wanted to feel. She so desperately needed to feel.

By the time she was lying in bed in silence and staring through the window, reality had hit her again: inviting Harry inside of her apartment had been a terrible, terrible idea.

She’d just gone from wondering what being around him would look and be like, to actually knowing it. And no matter how great she could be feeling right then and there, at the end of the day it would only complicate things. She knew that. It would only make everything worse. 

At the same time, as ashamed as Lia felt of her imagination, the truth is that Harry’s real words weren’t helping her, either — like when he mentioned he owed her a drink, or when he asked for her number. 

Those very real words weren’t easy to get rid of. They echoed inside Lia’s mind constantly, ruining all of her attempts of never thinking about him again. They kept her company in the mornings while getting ready for work, then at lunch and in between classes, and also all over the afternoons. They popped up again, randomly, as she jumped off the bus and waved a timid goodbye to the very well-known driver, and again later at night when she took a shower, ordered takeaway and went to bed once again.

During the weekend, because she needed a distraction, once again she’d taken a train back to her parents. And it helped her, mostly because it meant also getting to see her brother and sister-in-law. Something she enjoyed. Something she always thought she should do more often, anyway.

But then it was Monday, and she was back into the real world. Going from her apartment to work. And from work to her apartment. 

By Friday, after almost getting no sleep all week and paying no attention to anything but work, she wasn’t only ashamed and embarrassed—she was also sad and frustrated at how lame and uneventful her life was.

She was tired of living inside of her imagination, and angry at only watching others reaching their dreams and happiness. She was mad for not being able to let things go, and she was bored of the way she handled things. 

And, above it all, she was longing for someone who could take all her loneliness away.

It was a mix of emotions that she could only express by huffing and grumbling to herself as she stood in front of her building, one hand inside of her stupid gigantic bag while she frowned and blindly searched for her keys.

She had only left the house to go to the grocery store, so why did she even take that thing bag with her? And why was there always so much stuff inside it? 

She was so distracted and so madly annoyed at herself and her life, that she didn’t hear the bam when Harry closed the door of his car; nor the beep beep when he pressed the alarm and locked it; nor the pitter-patter when he got closer to her building. She also didn’t notice when he stopped by the first step, nor when he leaned his side against the railing and crossed his arms on his chest, nor when he watched her with an amused smirk on his face.

“Need some help there?”

Lia jumped and turned around, and the gasp that left her mouth was muffled by the crash of her bag hitting the ground, right next to her feet.

“Shit.” Harry ran up the steps in a blink of an eye, then squatted in front of her. 

Lia tucked her chin and looked down, letting her arms hang loosely by her sides and watching as he gathered the few objects that had fallen from her bag and threw them back inside.

He was wearing her favorite t-shirt — again. The old tight fabric perfectly outlining the muscles on his back and shoulders as he moved his arms here and there. 

His voice was a soft murmur in the back of her ringing ears, and she only noticed he was actually saying something when he placed one elbow on his bent knee and looked up at her with a frown on his face. 

“Sorry.” Lia shook her head and took a step back. “W—what?”

“I was just apologizing.” He stood up, pulling her bag along with him by the thick strap. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Lia tightened her fingers around the single grocery bag she was holding, gripping at it as if her sanity depended on that frozen pizza she’d just bought for dinner.

“Right.” She nodded slowly, then licked her chapped lips. “It’s fine, yeah. You didn’t scare me.”

Harry half-snorted, half-scoffed. “I sure did, love. Is everything alright?”

Lia slumped her shoulders, and a lough sigh escaped through her lips and nose. She closed her eyes and scratched her forehead, then told him the exact same lie she’d been telling every single person who’d asked that same question in the last couple days.

“Yeah… Everything’s fine. Long week at work, that’s all.”

Harry hummed, and when she opened her eyes again, she found him leaning his lower back against the railing of her building. 

He looked at her curiously, green eyes staring at her as if he could see a different answer written all over her face. 

It was unsettling, but also oddly comforting at the same time. 

“Haven’t seen you at the bar anymore,” he finally said.

Lia looked around the street, watching the few people walking by. 

She didn’t know how to answer him. She didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t even a question, to begin with. He didn’t see her at the bar, because she didn’t go to the bar. Period. It seemed obvious, and boring. 

Was there anything else she could say instead? Something that would be more… Interesting? 

“Hey.” Harry circled her wrist with one hand, then gently squeezed.

Lia looked back at him, only to be met with the beautiful sight of a closed-mouth smile, a dimple, and wrinkles around his eyes. 

“You sure you’re ok?” He let his arm fall back to his side. “You look tired.”

Lia shifted on her feet and looked down, pulling her hair over one shoulder. She used her fingers to brush through her locks and put down some of her untamed strands. Then, as she rubbed under her nose with the side of one finger, she took her occupied hand to pull the hem of her sweater down.

“I look like a mess, I know,” she mumbled, shrugging one shoulder. “I guess… I haven’t been sleeping that much.”

Or at all.

“That sucks.”

The tone of his voice carried his sentiment, and she fed her curiosity by glancing at him. Once again, she met his green, caring and concentrated eyes, and for a moment she was convinced the entire world had stopped just for them.

There was a curl threatening to fall onto his forehead, and a very obvious stubble around his soft mouth — covering his chin, the sides of his face and the mole on the left side of his bottom lip.

The smoothness of his facial hair drew even more attention to his unprompted dimples, and the boyish breeze around him clashed with the intensity pouring out from his broad shoulders, sharped jaw and thick neck.

He stood so unconcerned in front of her, casually leaning against the cold iron that led to the front door of her building and holding the strap of her bag with both hands as it hung in between his parted legs and— 

“Oh my God!” Lia gasped. Shit. She straightened her back and took a step closer to him, stretching her arm to clasp her fingers around the strap of her bag. “‘M so sorry. You’ve been holding this and I just… I didn’t… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Shaking her head, Lia pulled one side of the strap towards her chest, expecting Harry to easily let it go. 

Harry tugged back, though, yanking her forward and in between his legs.

A yelp left her throat as she stumbled on her feet, her hand flying up along with the grocery bag to hold herself on his chest.

Harry’s free hand landed on her waist, keeping her in place while his other hand remained attached to the strap of her bag, just like hers.

“Just to be clear,” Harry murmured, sinking his fern green eyes into her dark brown ones. “I never said you look like a mess.”

Lia pressed her lips together and breathed out through her nose, then drifted her eyes down and between them. 

Her hand was still on his chest, and a tingling swept up through the back of her neck and across her face — she had just shoved a grocery bag into Harry’s chest. A grocery bag, with a frozen pizza in it. 

And he didn’t seem at least one bit bothered by it.

“It’s not what I meant, either, y’know,” he added. “When I said you look tired.”

Lia swallowed the nervousness down, ignoring the way her cheeks were burning. 

(Or, well, maybe actually trying to ignore the way her entire body was burning.)

“What… Uh… What did you mean, then?”

Harry shrugged, slightly digging his fingers into her waist. The way he held her, so firmly and yet so casually, made her heart skip a couple of beats. It was hard to pay attention to what was happening whilst also being hyper-aware of everything she was feeling, and an overwhelming emotion she couldn’t name spread all over her chest. 

“Just that I can tell you’re not doing ok.”

Oh. 

Lia frowned. 

Was that… 

Was that supposed to make her feel better? 

Harry let her waist go and reached for her hand, covering her hold around her bag. “May I?”

She answered by loosening the grip on the strap, and his response was just as instant — he slid his fingers under her palm and held her firmly, meanwhile lowered the item to the floor with his other hand and slowly dropped it between his feet. 

“I can also tell you could use a good night of sleep… Or maybe two,” he added. He took his new free fingers to his chest, removing the grocery bag from her other hand and putting it on the floor, too. “Probably could use some loosening up. Have some fun. Laugh a little.”

“Right,” she whispered, if only to stop him from listing everything that was wrong with her life. Or everything that could be better. Or everything that was missing. “That…” She cleared her throat. “Was that supposed to make me feel better? Because… I mean… None of that sounds good, y’know?”

Harry’s lips twitched up. 

“Yes, I know…” He nodded. He took his hand up to her face, brushing her skin while putting her hair away and locking it behind her ear. “Sorry. Promise it’s coming from a place of worry, though. That’s all.”

Her chest tightened, and her stomach swirled.

“I—I mean…” Lia licked her lips. “No need to worry. I’ll be fine. It’s nothing.”

“Hmm…” He let his arm fall on his lap, but his other hand kept holding hers, thumb moving in circles and gently brushing her skin. “Is there anything I can do? I’m here if you need any help.”

Lia furrowed her brows. “Like what?” 

“I don’t know…” Harry shrugged. “Whatever you need. Or want.”

An awkward laugh left Lia’s mouth, and she shook her head. 

If Harry knew what was keeping her awake at night, he wouldn’t be offering that.

“It’s fine. Thank you.”

“Ok,” he murmured. “What about tonight, then? Any plans?”

“Well… I just bought myself a frozen pizza, so…”

“Hmmm.” Harry smiled. “Yummy…”

Lia bit her lip. The low and teasing tone of his voice made her skin tingle.

“And what about after dinner?” 

“What—What about it?”

“Any chance you’ll come over to the bar? I still owe you a drink, remember?”

She brushed the tips of her fingers on his t-shirt, drawing random patterns before slowly pulling her arm away from him.

“I... I don’t think so. Sorry. I just... I’m really tired, and I don’t think being around too many people will help… It’s just… I don’t know… I guess… A lot of information? If that makes sense? Sorry, I don’t know how to explain it and—"

“Hey,” he called, squeezing her hand. “I get it. Makes perfect sense.”

“It does?”

“Yeah. Of course. The bar can get really loud and crowded… Not fun at all if all you want is to relax.”

“Yeah…” Lia blinked. Again and again. “That’s… Yeah. Thank you.”

He tilted his head. “Why are you thanking me?”

“I don’t know… For understanding? I guess? Not a lot of people do that.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “That’s ‘cause people suck.”

Lia snorted, and chuckled. She dropped her head, covering her mouth while her shoulders moved up and down. 

Hopefully, even though he was standing extremely close to her, Harry wouldn’t see the way her entire face scrunched up when she laughed. It wasn’t a very pretty sight to see. 

“Lia?”

She cleared her throat, shaking her head twice before taking a deep breath in and lifting up her chin. 

“Yeah?”

Their eyes found each other, and Lia immediately froze. 

Harry wasn’t laughing, and he wasn’t smiling. But he wasn’t mad, either. He held her stare with an inquisitive look, and it was so intense that it made her gulp down, unsettled by the hint of something flashing through them—something she was afraid to name, but wasn’t so hard to guess. 

“I’m glad you called me an asshole.”

She raised her eyebrows, and her voice was barely a whisper when she asked, “You are?”

“Mhm.” Harry nodded. “I really am.”

“W—why?”

He slid his tongue between his lips, getting them wet. They glistened under the sunset shades that surrounded them, and Lia stared at their slow movements as he spoke. “It brought us here, didn’t it?”

Shutting her mouth, Lia blinked blankly at him.

“I mean, of course I wish I hadn’t made you feel like that in the first place, but still… I’m glad you called me out for it.”

“Yeah I don’t… Usually do that, y’know? That’s why I freaked out and… Why I was so embarrassed about it. I guess I’m just… I’m just not brave enough to speak up. I don’t know.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll respectfully disagree with that. You seem a lot braver than most people I know.”

Lia looked down, not able to hold back a smile. 

“I think…” she murmured. “I think I should go. It’s getting late.”

“Is it? Huh… Could stay here for hours.” 

Heat flushed up her neck, then spread all over her face. 

“Don’t you have to work tonight?”

“Oh, ooook then.” Harry laughed and stood up, straightening his body and causing her to stumble backwards. “Gotcha. Message received. I’m leaving now.”

“What? No!” Lia shook her head. “What message? I wasn’t—I just… It’s Friday, so I know it gets busier at the bar and… I wasn’t… Y’know… I didn’t mean… I just—" 

“Hey, hey…” Harry squeezed her hand, pulling her to step closer and into him again. “I know. I’m just teasing you, love. It’s fine.”

“Ugh… I really suck at this.” 

“You don’t.”

“Of course I do.”

“You don’t, and I mean it. If anything, I think it makes you even more interesting.” 

They stared at each other. 

Stared at each other. 

And stared at each other. 

They stared and stared, until the trembling inside Lia’s belly felt too much and she looked away.

Harry cleared his throat.

“Ok… I’ll let you go now, since it’s getting late and you’ve got a frozen pizza to cook…” he teased, happiness lingering in his voice. “But I’ll see you around, tho, right?”

“Y-yeah, sure… I—I’ll see you around.” 

Lia nodded, forcing her smile to stay longer even though the idea of saying goodbye to him only brought sadness to her chest. 

What the hell was happening?

And how long would it take until she saw him again?

— — — — — 

Pam was on the phone with her mom and Jim had just walked in the office when Lia’s phone buzzed on the couch, next to her thigh. 

How’s pizza?  Keeping you company?

Lia furrowed her brows, checking twice that the texts had been sent by an unknown number. And then her heart skipped a beat, and her hands began to sweat.

The idea of Harry reaching out was just as exciting and joyful as scary and unbelievable. To be fair, she couldn’t imagine who else it could be, but she also was too afraid to just assume. What if someone was pranking her? What if he was pranking her?

Her phone buzzed again.

This is Harry, btw. 

“Shit,” Lia murmured. 

She sat upright and pulled the blanket off from her lap, then grabbed her phone with her trembling and nervous hands.

It took her at least five minutes to come up with a calm and collected answer.  

still in the oven hi harry:)

Heat spread through her cheeks. 

She was so lame. So boring. 

Why was Harry even texting her?!

Her phone buzzed again.

Hii :) That’s a shame  You should’ve found yourself better company

Lia stared at her phone and bit her lip. 

The opportunity was there, right in front of her. In a fantasy world, she would’ve pointed out how he should’ve kept her company instead. Or maybe she would have invited him to be that better company. 

Both options ran through her mind. Both options tinkled on her fingers. And yet, it was Lia’s world she lived in, so she settled for the safest words to say. 

it was the best thing I could find at the grocery store

Opposite from her, he didn’t take a second to reply. As if he didn’t even need to think before he spoke.

Hmmm  Maybe next time you should try somewhere else, then

She read his text once, and twice. For a moment, an empty feeling in the pit of the stomach turned into nausea, but then her mind seemed to act on its own. Disconnecting from the rest of her body as it directed her fingers to type again.

I might… do you have any recommendations?

The three dots on Harry’s side of the conversation came up quickly, then they flashed for a while. And then, they disappeared. 

Lia swallowed hard, watching the screen for another minute or two just to make sure that no more answers would come through. When they didn’t, her stomach clenched, and the nausea became hard to ignore. So she put her phone away and stared back at the TV, pulling her knees to her chest and pretending to pay attention while she kept checking through the corner of her eyes. Then wincing every time she thought about her last text to him. Or how she never got a reply. 

Not then, not ten minutes later, and not even half an hour later. 

No matter how much she checked her phone, or how many times she peeked at the screen for a new notification, Harry’s answer was nowhere to be seen.

— — — — — 

Half a pizza and three episodes of The Office later, a loud knock on her door had Lia jumping on her seat. She paused the show with a frown, then waited to see if something else would happen. 

Maybe she could get away with pretending she wasn’t home. Maybe whoever was on the other side would give up and move on to the next door.

But then…

Another knock. And another one. 

And Lia finally got on her feet — because what if something bad had happened? What if someone was hurt? 

Another knock on the door. 

“Just a second!” she yelled, walking as fast as she could with her slippery purple socks.

She rubbed the tip of her nose and took a deep breath, then turned the key around and stepped aside to reveal… 

Harry?

Lia jerked her head back, chin slightly going down while she blinked at the tall figure standing in front of her.  

“Good evening, miss,” he said with a thick British accent and overly-polite voice. A proud smirk matched the twinkle in his eyes, and it only got deeper when he raised one hand and showed off a glass. “Did you order a mojito?”

.

.

.

Lia just… Stopped functioning? Or her mind went completely blank. And then, after a moment, her body reacted unconsciously, all at once—her arms fell to her sides, her mouth fell open, and her eyes widened. 

Maybe only a second passed until Harry chuckled and spoke again. Or maybe a minute, or maybe an hour. It would be hard to tell, and she wasn’t even paying attention to that. It didn’t really matter. 

“Surprised?” he asked.

Lia blinked once. Then twice. Then a couple of more times. 

“I…”

Dizzy, she shook her head and closed her mouth, swallowing the awkwardness down and darting her tongue between her lips. 

“I mean…” She pulled each side of her cardigan with one hand and crossed her arms on top of her belly, covering the old white loose tank top she had at some point of her life turned into pajamas. “Yes? Y—yes! Of course! What are you doing here?”

Harry shrugged. “I brought you a mojito.”

Lia glanced at Harry’s hand, then at his face, then back at his hand. The glass looked minuscule while wrapped inside his long fingers, but it was there. It was actually there.

“But I don’t… I didn’t …”

She furrowed her brows, and slowly dragged her attention back to his eyes.

What the hell was happening?!

“I know.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I brought you a mojito.”

“Why?”

Harry shrugged.

“Because I wanted to cheer you up.”

“But why?”

Amusement crossed Harry’s face. He tilted his head to the side, and his lips twitched into a smile. 

“Sorry,” Lia said. “I just…”

She glanced at the glass in his hand. Green leaves, ice cubes and lime wedges. Her stomach fluttered, and she tightened the grip around her own body. 

It truly was a mojito. A mojito. 

Out of all the things he could’ve surprised her with, that’s what he had chosen?

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, then slowly released the air out of her body. It was embarrassing to have to do that in front of him, but it was the only way she knew to be effective and get rid of the tension off her shoulders. It was what she did all the time — breathe, sigh, breathe again. Calm down her desperate heart. 

“Sorry.” She blinked, then focused back on his green stare. “I just honestly don’t know how to react… I mean… I wasn’t expecting this. At all.”

His face softened, and he shrugged one shoulder. 

“No need to react,” Harry said, putting his free hand inside of his pocket and stretching his other arm towards her. “Just take it inside with you. Drink it. Give it to your plants. Flush it away. Whatever you want. I’ll never know.”

Lia chuckled. 

She unclasped her arms calmly, lifting one of them to wrap her fingers around the glass. They inevitably brushed Harry’s skin, and her breath sped up, matching her already racing heart. 

“Thank you,” she said, holding his stare as she pulled the drink closer to her body. “Of course I’ll drink it.”

He smiled into her eyes, and Lia glanced down to the mojito. 

“Did you make it?”

At that, Harry scoffed. “‘Course I did. Why? Should’ve I asked Rohan?”

Lia furrowed her brows.

“What? No.” She shook her head. “That’s not… He never gets it how I like it.”

There was a pause, then a soft chuckle left Harry’s mouth. 

“Oh my God.” Lia widened her eyes, then raised her chin to stare back at him. Harry was laughing silently at the floor. “Please don’t tell him I said that.”

“I won’t.”

“I mean, it’s not that I don’t think he’s good… Shit. Not him… The mojitos… I mean… His mojitos are good… It’s just… He’s not… I don’t… He’s—"

“Hey.” Harry placed his hand on her shoulder, and Lia pressed her lips together. He wasn’t laughing anymore, and his eyes soothed her. “I won’t say a word, I promise.”

Lia sighed.

“Thanks.”

Harry let her go, shoving his now-mojito-free hand inside of his other pocket and curling his lips up.

“Hope you’ll like mine, tho.”

“I… I will. Yeah.”

I always do, she wished she could add. 

Making sure the words wouldn’t slip out of her mouth, she lifted the glass up to her lips and took a timid sip out of it. 

Almost immediately, heat radiated down her throat and through her chest. So she closed her eyes and took a second and longer sip, focusing on properly tasting it this time. 

The flavors were all easy to recognize—the mint, the lime, the club soda, and the rum. When she swallowed, she pressed her lips together in a smile, unintentionally humming at the sweetness and freshness. 

It was… Delicious. The perfect balance between all ingredients, including the amount of sugar and ice. 

Harry cleared his throat, and Lia batted her lashes to focus her sight on him once again.

He watched her with a grin on his face, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” Lia whispered. “Really good. Delicious, actually.”

Harry grinned even wider, and Lia found herself smiling, too. 

“Thank you,” she said.

“Of course. Maybe next time you can get some mojitos instead of pizza. I’m sure they’ll enjoy keeping you company.” 

Butterflies batted their wings in her belly, and a rush of adrenaline bolted through her veins. 

“T—they?”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah… Y’know… The mojitos… Me…” 

Lia shuffled on her feet, wiggling her toes inside her purple socks. 

“I was going to tell you that earlier, by the way,” he added, saving her from the embarrassment of letting him know she had no idea how to answer that. “But things got crazy at the bar and I had to put my phone down so… Sorry.” 

“That’s��That’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” She cleared her throat, then tightened the grip of her fingers around the glass. “Do you… Uh… Do you have to go? Or… Maybe… I don’t know… I mean… Would you… Would you like to come in?”

Harry tilted his head and, just like earlier, his eyes twinkled with something. Something different, though. Playfulness, maybe? Or amusement? 

Mischief, perhaps? 

Lia wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, it didn’t make her uncomfortable, nor embarrassed. 

“Would love to, really. But I gotta go back to work… I’m sure my break ended a while ago.”

“Oh… Y—yeah, right. Of course. Sorry.”

Harry chuckled. “Don’t be. I’d rather stay here with you, to be honest.”

Feeling herself about to smile again, Lia looked down at the drink in her hand and bit her lip. 

“Uh… And what… What time do you finish work, then?”

“Tonight?”

“Mhm.”

Harry took a tiny step forward, and Lia held her breath. 

“Well… We close the bar at two.”

“Right.”

The last t left her mouth and echoed in the hallway, and Lia watched Harry’s feet get closer and closer as he walked forward, stopping only when he was right in front of her. 

He took a hand out of his pocket and lifted his arm, then placed his fingers under her chin and forced her to look up at him again. 

The butterflies seemed to abandon her belly and fly all over her body, because every inch and every corner inside her tingled and fluttered. 

Harry wasn’t smiling anymore. The playfulness on his face had been replaced by determination, but his eyes were still soft and gentle when staring inside hers. 

“Any chance you’ll still be awake by then?”

“M—maybe? I mean, I could be.”

“You could, huh?”

Lia shrugged, then nodded.

The smirk grew easily on his lips. 

“You sure? It’s gonna be late… I don’t wanna bother you.”

Lia’s heart pounded inside her chest. So loudly she was afraid even Harry could hear it. 

Truthfully speaking, there was absolutely no way Lia would ever stay awake so late just to meet someone. 

However this wasn’t just someone, was it? It was Harry. 

Harry.

The guy she had been secretly dreaming about for almost a year now. 

Would she be able to forgive herself if she didn’t try?

Of course she wouldn’t. 

So Lia silently and slightly nodded again. 

“Hmm…” He brushed his thumb up and down her jaw. “In that case… How do you feel about watching a movie?”

Lia licked her lips, and swallowed. “Here?”

“Mhmm.”

“After your shift?”

Harry nodded. 

“I—Yeah. Okay. I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Will you stay awake for me, then?”

“Mhmm… I’ll… I’ll be awake.”

“Good.” He moved his thumb up and down again, then slid his hand to her neck and held her for a moment before he dropped his arm back to his side. “See you in a couple hours, then.”

— — — — — 

At 2:17am, Lia buzzed Harry in. 

She waited for him in the hallway, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed under her chest. Her insides blazed with anticipation, and the sweating of her hands was getting hard to control—and even harder to hide. 

Everything was silent. Quiet. Empty. The perfect scenario for her to get lost inside her mind and start doubting every decision she’d ever made leading to that exact moment in time. 

Shit.

Lia looked down at her feet and tapped her heel on the floor. 

She couldn’t start spiraling. Not right then. Not when she was about to see the guy she had fantasized about for so long. Not when she was about to watch a movie with the guy she had crushed on for so long. Not when she was finally getting attention from the guy she had silently dreamed about for so long. 

She couldn’t. She really couldn’t.

And yet… 

She should’ve put on something more flattering to see him... Shouldn’t she? 

She didn’t want him to notice she had showered, shaved, and changed her underwear just to see him, so she had put on the same outfit he’d had seen earlier—the same gray loose pants and basic white tank top, and even the same beige cardigan and purple socks. Which was also the same outfit she had slept on the night before, and that she was planning to wear to bed again that night.

Shit.

What was wrong with her?

Why couldn’t she have tried a little bit harder?

Desperation sparked and unrolled inside her, but then the sound of Harry’s feet reached her ears, loud and clear — walking up the stairs, a floor or two below. And that was enough to absorb all of her attention. To make her forget all about everything and look up. 

Look up and just wait for him. 

Wait to see him.

Those minutes  it took for him to get to her floor were the worst. And the longest. Harry took his time, climbing step by step. And the anticipation inside Lia’s body seemed to increase a hundred times. 

By the time she finally saw him, her heart was racing, and her belly quivering. 

Harry looked handsome. Like earlier, and like he always did. 

He was wearing all black, though, something she hadn’t noticed earlier, when he’d brought her the mojito. Wasn’t he wearing her favorite t-shirt when they’d met outside? 

His curls were messier than before, too. His cheeks were flushed, and there was a glimmer of sweat peeking from the back of his neck. 

He seemed tired, and it made sense that he was.

Guilt flared all over her. 

Friday nights at the bar were busy. Anyone could imagine that. And Lia not only could have figured that all by herself, but she had also seen it happening right in front of her eyes at least once or twice. 

What kind of person made plans at 2am on a Friday? 

Or, well, technically, on a Saturday… But still… 

Was that even normal? 

Was it a thing? 

Was she out of her mind?

Harry looked up before reaching the last flight of steps. 

As soon as he met her eyes, he curled his lips slightly up.

“Hii,” he murmured. 

Lia bit her lip. 

Despite everything, there he was. Casually walking under the yellow lights of her hallway, as if that was exactly where he was supposed to be. Stopping by her door with certainty, as if he had been on the exact same spot hundreds of times before. And looking at her with softness and tranquility, as if she was the only cure for his exhaustion.

Lia liked that. She didn’t know what was happening or why, but she liked that. 

She liked that a lot. 

“Hi,” she murmured back, offering him a soft smile. “Come on in.” 

She gestured behind her, determined to offer her couch if only for him to sleep for as long as he needed to.

“Thanks.”

Harry walked past her with a polite smile on his face, stopping by the door to take his shoes off and then moving towards the couch. 

Meanwhile, Lia shut the door, turned the key around, and locked them inside.

And then… 

Her heart skipped a beat, and her stomach twirled. 

It was just the two of them. 

Lia and Harry. Harry and Lia. And no one else.

She hugged herself with her cardigan and breathed in, then out. When she turned around, it was just in time to see Harry drop his weight on the middle of her couch. 

Thankfully, he didn’t need an invitation to make himself at home. He put the fluffy blanket next to him and scooched backwards, squaring his shoulders against the dark pillows and spreading his legs slightly open.  Next, he sighed, dropped his neck, and rested the back of his head on the edge of the couch. 

And then, he tilted his chin to the side, and finally faced her. 

His strong eye contact captured her, and a shiver ran over her skin. 

Harry curled his mouth into another smile.

“So, did you enjoy your mojito?”

Tightening her arms under her chest, Lia looked at her feet and nodded. 

“Y—yeah… I… It was really good. Thank you.”

“‘Course. Any—” A yawn got in the way of his answer, and Lia darted her eyes up. 

Harry faced the ceiling now. His eyes were shut and his mouth was wide open. His chest went up, up, up. And then he exhaled, loudly, and his chest went back down at the same time he slowly closed his mouth. 

Lia pressed her lips together and covered half of her face with one hand, stifling her own yawn. 

“Shit.” He chuckled, shaking his head briefly then looking back at her. “Sorry. Long night at the bar.”

She shook her head and dropped her hand on top of her other arm.

“‘S fine. Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I’m feeling kinda guilty, to be honest.” 

“Guilty? Why?”

Lia shrugged. 

“For making you come here after work? I mean…” She looked at the TV on the wall across from him, and then at her feet. “It’s so late… I get it if you’re tired. I should’ve thought about that."

There was a pause. 

A beat. 

Maybe two. 

Or maybe three. 

Or maybe none.

It didn’t matter. The silent air wasn’t heavy around them.

Eventually, she gathered enough courage to lift her head and look at him again. It wasn’t necessarily a surprise to find Harry already staring, but it still made her chest tighten. 

So she bit her lip. 

And Harry blinked. Several times. 

Then, he cleared his throat.

“You know I wanted to come here, right?” he asked. “I thought I was being obvious, but I don’t mind saying it. Like, I was the one who suggested this, so if anything I’m the one who feels like a dickhead for making you stay up so late.”

An amused—yet small—smile grew on Lia’s face. 

“I didn’t mind.” She shrugged. “I wanted to wait.”

Harry smiled, too. 

“And I wanted to see you. So that’s settled.”

Warmth filled Lia’s chest, and her body tingled. Unable to hold herself from stupidly smiling, she pursed her lips tightly, then bit the insides of her bottom lip. The feeling took over her brain, though, and without any warning, happiness erupted out of her mouth in the form of soft and genuine giggles. 

“Sorry,” she said, taking a hand up to her face and covering her lips. 

Harry sighed. 

“C’mon now,” he said, patting the cushion next to him. “You’re too far away.”

It was hard to contain the butterflies and nerves, but she still found a way to move her legs and shortened the distance between them. She uncrossed her arms to put her hair behind her ears, looking at the floor and being careful to not step on his feet or trip on his ankles as she made her way past his knees. 

His head followed her movements along with his eyes, turning from one side to the other. 

When she sat next to him and lifted her chin, she glanced directly at his eyes.

Harry was already beaming at her.

“Hi,” he murmured.

Excitement fluttered deep in the pit of her stomach, and Lia smiled. 

“Hi,” she murmured back. “I love mojitos.”

Harry chuckled, moving his head and closing his eyes to the ceiling. 

Damnit. 

Turning slightly to see him better, Lia observed him with adoration. It felt impossible not to. He was captivating. There was something truthfully genuine about him. A simplicity surrounding his eyes, wrinkling his skin in a boyish way. Even tired, and even after a long shift, a glowing energy surrounded him. And it was mesmerizing. 

He was mesmerizing. 

“You do, yeah,” he said, still smiling, and tilting his head to face her again. “I’ve noticed.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“I… That’s…”

Lia blinked. Actually, she didn’t know what to say, so she furrowed her brows and shut her mouth. 

What did he mean by that? 

Had he noticed how much she loved mojitos in general, or how much she loved his mojitos?

And what else he had noticed about her?

Had he noticed how deeply into him she was?

How much she stared at him?

How much she daydreamed about him?

“I should’ve asked you on a proper date, y’know?” Harry said. A playful smile grew on his face, and his tone came out teasingly. “Take you out somewhere nice… On normal hours… After at least taking a shower…”

He sounded calm, as if that was the most natural thing he could say to her. 

Lia’s chest, on the other hand, kept moving up and down quickly, as if her heart and lungs had completely forgotten how they were supposed to function to keep her alive. 

“A—a… A d—date?” she barely managed to ask.

“Well, yeah.” Harry dragged his eyes off hers, only to watch himself raise his arm and reach for a lock of her hair. “A date feels more… I don’t know… Gentleman…ly?”

He chuckled — tiredly, but honestly. 

“Is that even a word?” he asked, twirling her hair around his finger. “Anyway…”

He stopped moving, yet didn’t pull his hand away. Meeting her gaze again, uncertainty flashed through his eyes, but soon was covered with the comfort of his smile. “I should have, but… I guess I just didn’t want to wait. So this late night thing just kinda happened, y’know?” 

Lia swallowed. 

“Y—yeah… I know.” 

He placed his hand on her neck, resting four fingers on the side of her throat while his thumb stroked up and down her jaw and cheek. 

“You have a beautiful smile, by the way,” Harry suddenly pointed out.  

“W—what?”

“I wanted to tell you earlier, but…” He shrugged. “You hide everytime you smile or laugh, and it’s just... I don’t know. It’s beautiful to see you smiling. That’s all.”

Lia’s neck burned, blood rushed through her cheeks, and the cardigan she was wearing turned out to be too much for her now boiling body. Thoughts swirled so quickly that it was hard to catch them. Her mind raced, and it yelled. It yelled so loudly that it became silent, and everything went blank—as if her brain had finally given up on her.

“Sorry,” Harry said, dropping his hand and shaking his head. He shifted on the couch, then. Straightening his back, he turned sideways and fully faced her, then folded the leg that was closest to her body up on the couch and squeezed his ankle underneath his other knee. “Bet you didn’t think I could get this soppy, huh?” 

Harry joked and chuckled.  

Lia blinked a couple of times. He was trying to lighten up the conversation, she could tell, but there was no way she would just laugh. She didn’t want to. 

So she shifted on the couch and mimicked his previous movements, turning around to fully face him and folding her closest leg to him under the other. 

And that was all it needed for their legs to touch. 

“Thank you.”

A slow smile grew on Harry’s face, causing Lia’s mouth to curl up as well. 

He raised his arm and placed it on top and along the backrest, invading not only all of her senses, but also her physical space. 

Lia looked down and between them, watching the way their thighs were pressed against each other. Watching the way so many of her dreams were slightly coming true. 

That is, until Harry spoke again. 

“Let’s talk about Rohan,” he said, and Lia jolted her head up.

She scrunched her face up in confusion, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times before she was able to slowly breathe out one single word: “What?”

“Rohan, from the bar.”

“From the—” Lia shook her head, and the tone of her voice suddenly catched up with her emotions. “Of course I know who Rohan is! But what—You—Why would we even talk about him?!”

Harry shrugged, a playful and amused smirk crossing his face. “Because you two seem close… Have fun together…”

Lia gasped, her mouth falling open as one incredulous and single laugh bursted out from her chest.

“We barely— We just talk!”

Harry nodded. “I know.”

“So?” Lia scoffed discreetly, the sound getting caught on her throat. “That’s hardly having fun.”

“Hmm… Well, I don’t know. I just thought something would’ve happened between you two by now. That’s all.”

Lia flinched her chin back, eyebrows raising while she batted her eyelashes in disbelief. 

“That’s—Again, what?!”

Harry shrugged, his expression getting serious as he looked away from her. 

“He’s clearly into you,” he said. “You know that, c’mon. Thought you fancied him, too. That’s all.” Another shrug, and then, “Don’t you?”

“Oh my…” Lia whispered.

She furrowed her brows and dropped her chin down, once again looking at their thighs. 

“I can’t believe this. Why… Why would you think that? That’s so… I mean, where did you get that stupid idea from? And why would you even bring it up right now?”

Her shoulders fell. And her body relaxed.

Damn. It felt so good to just say whatever was going through her head. At least for once.

“So… You don’t?” 

Lia breathed in, and raised her chin. 

Harry was looking at her again, but he kept narrowing his eyes, as if he was ready to call her out for lying. 

He wasn’t teasing her. 

Harry was actually doubting it. 

He was actually after an answer. 

Lia blinked. Multiple times. And then more laughter bursted out from deep inside her. 

“Oh my God, Harry! No! Of course not!”

“You say it like it’s supposed to be obvious!”

Harry laughed, too—although from the way his voice wavered, it seemed more like nervous laughter. Or maybe a questioning one. Or a suspicious one. 

Either way, it wasn’t actually joyful. It didn’t feel like it, at least. 

So Lia pressed her lips together, then took another deep breath in. 

Honestly, where was he coming from? 

Had she ever done anything that could lead him to believe that? Because she was convinced she hadn’t. In fact, all along she had been afraid Harry would find out how attracted to him she was. Not to Rohan.

“Well… Yeah.” Lia shrugged. “I don’t know, but to me it is pretty obvious… I mean… Why would I even be here if I fancied him?”

“Huh.” Harry raised his eyebrows. 

He blinked once, and then squinted, focusing on her eyes as though he was trying to find the secret answer for an unasked question written deep inside them.

That whole interaction was too weird. And not at all what Lia was expecting for that night—or any other night, for that matter.  

“I just…” she said, then paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. Pressing her lips together, she batted her eyelashes and looked towards the back of the couch, targeting the wall. She sighed, and tried again. "I don’t… I don’t get why you thought I… That I wanted… But you didn’t notice that I—Y’know… That I… Ugh!" 

Shaking her head, Lia took her hand to rub her forehead and chuckled. No matter how much she wanted to tell him, she couldn’t do it. She really couldn’t. 

They were having such a great night…

What if she ruined everything? 

What if she told him how much she fancied him and he decided to leave? 

What if she decided to be open and honest about her feelings for him, and he turned her down? 

She wouldn’t be able to talk to him again. She wouldn’t be able to look at him again. And she would never be able to get over the humiliation. 

So she couldn’t risk it. She just couldn’t. 

“Hey,” Harry said, placing his hand on top of hers. 

Immediately, Lia loosened up. She relaxed the grip of her fingers, dropped her shoulders, and looked down at her lap. 

And then, she frowned. 

Apparently, she’d been gripping at her own hands, tightly squeezing them while completely unaware of it. Her muscles were sore, and there were small prints on the places where the tips of her fingers had sunk on her own skin. 

“Lia…” Harry sneaked his fingertips underneath her palm, breaking her hands apart. “What’s going on? What were you going to say?”

“Uh… No—nothing.” Staring at their now connected hands, Lia shook her head. “Nothing, yeah. Forget about it.”

“Oh, c’mon!” His voice was cheerful, almost playful. “Say it… Please?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything. Really.”

He kept his thumb on the back of her hand, gently and slowly caressing her skin. 

And Lia focused on that. She watched the way he moved up and down. She absorbed how soft yet rought the brush of his finger felt. She appreciated how warm, large, and strong his hold felt. 

“Lia…” 

Harry tugged her hand, pulling it off from her lap and holding it against his chest. 

The movement caused Lia to lean forward, and she looked at him. 

Harry’s intense green eyes were truly, really hypnotizing. 

She licked her lips, then softened her voice. “Just… Let it go… Please?”

Harry flickered his eyes between hers, and he studied her in silence for a moment. 

Instead of making her uncomfortable, though, it gave her enough time to focus some more on physical things. Like how he kept holding her hand firmly inside his. Secure. Fully enveloping it while clutching her palm against the middle of his chest. 

Lia was almost sure she could feel his heart beating against his ribcage, and the fabric of his t-shirt was right under her skin. 

Without dragging her eyes away from his, she moved her own thumb up and down, too. It was a subtle and cautious movement, but enough to brush and feel the texture under the pad of her finger. 

Harry curved one side of his mouth up, and gave her palm a little squeeze. 

“Fine. I’ll forget about it.”

He lifted his free hand to his hair and pushed the short curls out of the way, then dropped his arm next to Lia’s shoulder. 

After a moment of patient and quiet staring, he added, “You’re not awkward, you know? Or boring. And it’s not true that people don’t want to be friends with you.” 

Lia pressed her lips together, straightened her back, and shifted backwards. 

Right… 

They were back to that, then. 

It was nice of him to say that, sure it was, but she didn’t agree with his words. In fact, she couldn’t even believe he truly meant them. Not when, up until then, he had never cared about getting to know her. 

On the other hand, she also wasn’t expecting him to throw her own words back at her, especially because weeks had already gone by since that embarrassing night.

Her chest tightened, and she took a deep breath in. 

God. She really didn’t want to think about that night, but there was a weight in her stomach, a heaviness she didn’t know how to get rid off, so she still found the strength to open up her mouth and say, “You never wanted to, tho, did you?”

Harry widened his eyes, and Lia looked down. 

She focused on their still touching hands, then brushed off the weight of her words with a shrug. “I mean, it’s fine. I’m just saying.”

A couple of seconds passed without any answer, so Lia peeked at him through the corner of her eyes.

Harry was staring at where his other hand was, near her shoulder — with narrowed eyes, pursed lips and furrowed brows. He seemed lost inside his thoughts, and Lia rolled her lips into her mouth.

She hadn’t been wrong for pointing that out, right? It wasn’t like she wanted to, but more like she had to. More like she needed to. Because it was the truth, and it was what he had made her feel and believe all along, wasn’t it?

The fact that he had apologized to her didn’t erase the fact that he had made her snap in the first place. Right?

Or was she supposed to completely forget about that? 

Harry sighed, and Lia blinked. She relaxed her jaw, darting her tongue through her lips as she focused on him again.

“That’s…” He paused, eyeing his thumb as he grazed it over her shoulder, on top of her cardigan. “It wasn’t like that. I’m just… I’m not good with people. That’s all.”

.

..

… 

What? 

Lia was glad he wasn’t looking at her face, because she couldn’t help but frown. 

“Yes, you are,” she said, wandering her eyes around his distressed expression. “I’ve seen you with Rohan, and you’re good with him. You joke a lot, and you laugh, you offer your help when he needs it… And with Sage, I mean… I’ve only seen you around her a couple of times, but… You seemed to get along with her really quickly, so…”

The corner of Harry’s mouth turned up very slightly, only enough for her to notice it. Just like she noticed the way the muscles of his face relaxed, making all wrinkles disappear. 

He tilted his head, and met her gaze. 

Narrowing his eyes, he asked in a low and amused murmur, “How do you know that, huh? Have you been watching me?”

Shit.

“I… I mean…” Shit. Shit. Shit. “I think I…” Well, there was no point in denying it anymore, was there? “I have, yes. Yeah.”

Harry dropped their hands on his lap, then moved his thumb up and down, stroking the back of her hand. 

“You have, huh?”

Lia shrugged. “Yeah…”

“Hmm… I never noticed.”

With another shrug, Lia looked away. 

She wouldn’t answer that.

She already knew he’d never paid any attention to her, so of course he wouldn’t have noticed the way she watched him. The way she daydreamed about him. 

There was no need to point that out, though.

“Still,” Harry added, “Rohan is probably just an exception.”

“Right… And Sage?”

“Just another exception.”

Lia snorted. And chuckled.

Shaking her head, she closed her eyes for a moment. 

She needed to organize her thoughts and memories, because she knew that wasn’t the truth. She’d watched him for long enough to know that he was a joyful and caring person, but she didn’t know if that was something she should let him know, or not.

When she opened her eyes again, she met his calm and gentle stare. She bit her lip and leaned her side against the pillows, resting her shoulder under his stretched arm.

Harry kept moving his thumb gently on the back of her hand. Simply watching her. 

He didn’t seem bothered by the time it took her to answer, nor seemed to be about to rush her. 

It was different from what she was used to. Coming from him, sure, but in general, too. And it caused the words to simply roll out of her mouth. 

“I just… I’ve seen you around people, and… I don’t know…I used to see you with that girl… Well, that woman, y’know? And you always seemed so gentle to her… I mean, a gentleman, really, and I—”

Harry shifted, suddenly and abruptly. He withdrew his arm from the couch and looked away from her, then rubbed his finger under his nose. 

Lia pressed her lips together, stopping herself from talking even further. 

She’d said something wrong, hadn’t she?

She totally had. 

Of course she had. 

She looked down at her lap, biting the inside of her bottom lip. 

Harry was still holding her, but he had stopped brushing his thumb on the back of her hand. 

And she didn’t want him to stop. She really didn’t. 

“I’m… I’m sorry. I—” Shit. “I shouldn’t have said that… That was just… I didn’t— I mean—”

Shit. 

What was she supposed to say now?

She had gone too far. 

She knew that.

She knew she had entered a touchy subject.

Of course she had.

Honestly… What was wrong with her? Why would she even bring that woman up? Why would she bring someone Harry used to date up into their conversation? Why would she—Oh shit. What if… Wait, were they still together? Were they still a couple? The idea hadn’t crossed her mind… She hadn’t seen her at the bar anymore, so she’d just assumed and— Shit. 

She looked up at him. 

“Are you… You and that woman… Do you still… Are you two…” 

“I’m single, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh. Okay. So… Is it over? Between you two?”

Harry nodded. 

“It’s over, yeah. Look, I don’t… We haven’t seen each other for a couple of months now and… Yeah, it’s over. I’m not going back to that.”

Lia sighed through her nose. Emptying her lungs all at once. 

At least, when he spoke, he kept his eyes on her. And Lia knew he was being honest, she recognized the struggle to let something out of your mind. 

She didn’t mean to pry, though. All she needed to know was if Harry was cheating on someone or not. And if he wasn’t, then that was enough for her. It’s not like she was planning on telling him about her own ex-boyfriend, or the few horrible one night stands she had before moving to that building. She wasn’t ready to share that much, so… Yeah, Lia understood him.

“It’s fine.” She curled her mouth up, wanting to go back to playful smiles and soft touches. “We don’t have to talk about it. Honestly. I just wanted to know if you were… You know, cheating or something.”

As soon as the last words left her mouth, Lia saw Harry flinch. His eyes darted to their laps and his shoulders tensed, and it was very obvious that she had hit a nerve there. Another nerve. 

It didn’t seem like something that made him angry, though. He didn’t look like someone who was about to yell or get into a fight. He looked… Sad? Ashamed? He looked like someone who really needed a hug. And that made Lia’s heart drop.

Had Harry’s heart been broken, just like hers?

Even worse, had Harry’s trust been broken, just like hers?

“I’m really sorry, Harry. I just… I meant… God. I keep messing it up, but… I swear in the end all I wanted to say is that I’ve seen you around other people, and that I always thought you seemed to be really nice… And like… A fun person to be around, y’know? Like, you seemed really sweet, and… I don’t know. Sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Harry took his free hand to cover his mouth and cough, clearing his throat. 

“Don’t worry about it. She’s just… She’s a complicated story and I wasn’t expecting this to come up so… Bad reaction on my side. Sorry.”

Lia sighed.

“I should’ve just… All I meant is that you seem good with people. That’s all.”

“Yeah, well…” Harry shrugged. “I don’t know about that. It takes a lot of effort, I think.”

His voice sounded lower and deeper, and Lia recognized the vulnerability in it. It felt as if he was confessing something to her, as if he was sharing a hidden part of him with her. 

Lia also recognized the struggle he had just described, and how real the statement was — interacting with people truly took a lot of effort for her, too. To the point where most of the time she chose to not interact at all. 

“Yeah,” she said, so soft it felt almost like a whisper, “I know what you mean.”

Harry peeked at her from the corner of his eyes, pulling his lips into a thankful smile, then looked away again. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t place his arm by her shoulder anymore, and he also didn’t brush his thumb against her knuckles anymore. He just seemed lost inside his mind. 

It was easy to tell, because Lia also recognized what that looked like. What that felt like.

Apparently, the table had turned between them, and she felt the urge to make him feel better—just like he had made her feel better earlier that day.

Did Harry feel as lonely as she felt?

Gulping down, Lia looked at their still connected hands. His entire body language had changed, but he hadn’t let go of her, he hadn’t stopped touching her. 

Her lips turned up into a smile, and she bit her lip. 

Tightening her hand around his, she squeezed his fingers. She watched as she moved her own thumb up and down on the back of his hand — brushing slowly, from his wrist and up to his knuckle. 

Silence engulfed them comfortably, all while she steadily moved her thumb up and down. 

Up and down. 

Up and down.

Up… And down…

Up… 

And down…

His skin was warm and smooth under her fingertip. And the idea of pressing a kiss to his cross tattoo kept flying through her mind.

So she took a deep breath, then blinked a couple of times — because no matter how tempting it was, there was absolutely no way she was ever going to take the risk. 

“I knew your name from the first day, y’know?” Harry said.

Lia drew her eyebrows together, and lifted her head to look at him. 

“What?”

Harry shrugged, then curled the corner of his mouth up. “That day… When you said I never cared to know your name? That wasn’t true. I just never asked because I didn’t need to… I asked Rohan to ask you.”

Lia dropped her mouth open and widened her eyes. 

When she spoke, though, her voice was barely a shocked whisper, “No you didn’t.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head and looking away for a moment. His smile was big to the point of showing off his teeth, and his eyes were practically fully closed, creating wrinkles around them. 

His reaction was so genuine… 

And apparently contagious, too, because before Lia could prevent it, her lips had already turned up into a foolish, big, and stupid grin as well. 

“I did, yeah. However…” He looked back at her. “I gotta be honest with you… That wouldn’t have happened if I’d known you two would end up fancying each other.”

“Oh my God!” Lia dropped her head back with a groan. Again? Really?! “Harry… C’mon…”

“What?” He laughed. 

Lia looked down and back at him, trying her best to hide the annoyance out of her face — although she could feel it in her body as she breathed out and loudly through her nose. 

“We don’t fancy each other.”

“Mhm. You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” 

“Aren’t you his favorite customer, tho?” 

She rolled her eyes. 

“I don’t know, but he definitely isn’t my favo—”

Shit. 

Harry tilted his head, then lifted his lips up in a smirk. 

“He isn’t what? Your favorite?”

Lia snorted, then tried to pull her hand away from his.

Harry didn’t let her, though.

“Who’s your favorite, then?”

“This is… This is just… It’s just ridiculous, y’know?”  

Harry hummed. 

“Maybe. I don’t know. For what’s worth, I still think he fancies you, but…”

With a dramatic pause, he leaned forward, as if he was about to make the most important point of the night, or as if he was about to share the deepest secret of their lives.

Lia swallowed. 

He was so close. He hadn’t shaved in a while, because his stubble had gotten longer around his mouth and along his cheeks. It looked messy, almost kind of dirty, but also extremely sexy on him.

And his lips… 

Oh God… Harry’s lips were so… Attractive. They looked soft, smooth, and gentle. They weren’t the biggest or plumpest she’d ever seen, but she had certainly never wanted to kiss someone’s lips so badly like she wanted to kiss his. 

“I’m happy to know you don’t fancy him,” Harry said, his voice a tone or two lower than before.

And the way they moved… 

“You are?” she murmured.

“Mhmm…”

What would it feel like to kiss him?

What would it feel like to taste his lips?

Because she wanted to.

So bad… 

She wanted to taste his lips. 

She wanted to touch his face. 

She wanted to feel his scruff under her skin. 

What if she did? 

What if she extended her arm and brushed her fingers against his cheek? Over his facial hair? 

Would it be soft? 

Would it be scratchy?

“Hey there,” Harry said, grabbing her chin between his thumb and forefinger. His touch was both rough and delicate, holding her into place and drawing her attention back to his eyes while still being careful not to hurt her. “You seem distracted.”

Her skin tingled, and her heart hammered in her chest. 

Shit.

The smirk on his face and the tone of his voice were enough to let her know he’d seen her staring at his lips. 

And Lia didn’t—Shit. 

She was supposed to say something.

She knew she was supposed to say something. 

But every fiber of her body quivered with nervousness, and all words got stuck in her throat. 

And the way he kept looking at her… 

Fuck. 

Looking at her with those patient and soft green eyes… 

As if he had all the time in the world to stare at her… 

Or as if he had all the time in the world to wait for a proper reaction…

Shit. 

Lia’s brain was frozen. 

She had been physically attracted to him for such a long time, always watching from far away and never able to see him up close. To really see him… 

And he was being so nice to her… 

So, so nice… 

Beyond what she could’ve ever imagined he would be… 

She didn’t want to misinterpret his intentions, though… Or get her hopes up… 

She didn’t want to overstep… 

And yet… 

How could she even misinterpret his intentions, when he was right there, acting like that? 

Looking at her like that? 

Oh God. 

Lia’s breath quickened, just like her heartbeat. 

She wanted him. So much. She truly wanted him. 

Her chest tightened so hard that it was almost painful, like she needed to release the tension somehow or she would explode. She could feel it bobbing up and down in double quick time, just like she could feel her pulse throbbing not only against her ribcage, but also inside her throat and her stomach. And all over her legs. And right into her… Fuck. 

She clenched the muscles of her thighs, and swiftly shifted on the couch. 

“Lia…”

She needed a distraction. 

She needed to divert her mind from how much she wanted him. And she needed to pay attention to something that wasn’t his intense eyes burning into hers. 

She needed to say something. 

“Lia, hey…”

Anything. 

C’mon.

Just say something.

Lia… 

Say it.

Say it! 

“I always wanted to see your tattoos!” she blurted, although a little bit louder than she intended to. “Just…” She cleared her throat. “Y’know… Up close.”

There was a pause. A loud and meaningful pause, as a heartbeat coming back to life. 

She swallowed hard. 

And then Harry’s expression softened, and his mouth turned into a smile. 

A smile that genuinely lighted up his face. 

A smile so sincere and spontaneous that it slowly caused Lia to smile, too. 

So they both stared at each other, and smiled at each other. 

Widely, openly, and simply.

“Yeah?” he asked.

Well… That worked out just fine, didn’t it?

She nodded. 

“Mhmm…”

Harry went back to his previous position, letting her chin go and casually placing his elbow on the backrest of the couch. Then, without dropping the hold of her hand, he stretched his left arm and offered it to her. “You can look at them now, if you want.”

“Really?”

He brushed his thumb up and down the back of her hand and nodded.

“Of course. All yours.”

Lia nibbled her bottom lip and, without giving him any other answer, slid her gaze from his eyes to his lips, then directly to the sleek lines of his arm. 

Scanning the black ink covering most of the skin, she didn’t waste any more time before taking her free hand to his left wrist. As soon as she touched him, her fingertips tickled. She slid her tongue between her lips and outlined his anchor tattoo with delicacy, dancing with the tip of her index on top of his tender and smooth skin. 

Next, she moved on to some very tiny tattoos, brushing each one while she tried to make sense of them. There didn’t seem to be a connection between the different drawings or words, but they somehow still fit together. 

Reaching the side of his forearm, she traced a mermaid, then leaned forward when she couldn’t see the entire silhouette. 

With a deep breath, she moved her soft touch upwards, reaching his rose tattoo. 

That one seemed older, as if the ink had faded already. 

She could still see it perfectly, though. 

Drawing her index finger over the stem, she traced it from the bottom and up to the petals, then back half-way down to follow the path to the two leaves.

She took her time with that one, tracing it so carefully and so attentively that it felt bigger than it looked. 

She was enjoying the moment. Too much, to be honest. It felt intimate… Better than she could’ve ever imagined. 

Her fingertips went from tingling to burning, and when she noticed that their deep and slow breaths were the only sound echoing inside her living room, her stomach bubbled. 

Light-headed, it took her a while to finish. She wanted to give equal attention to each one of the petals, but she also didn’t want to ever stop touching him. She wanted to get even closer, and she wanted to get to know him even more. 

Would other parts of him feel the same? 

Would he ever let her explore his entire body like that? With the same discretion and delicacy? 

Would he ever let her admire and adore every inch of him?

Would he ever let her know every part of his life?

Lia was almost getting to his elbow, finishing his rose, when Harry shivered under her touch. She paused her movements and looked up, meeting his determined and fervent stare. 

He was breathing steadily through his parted lips, and he seemed flushed. 

Lia’s heartbeat sped up again, and she bit back a smile — was he enjoying all of it as much as she was? 

Shit. 

She hoped he was. 

He was so pretty. 

And she wanted him. She really wanted him. 

She felt ridiculous, but she couldn’t help it. She just did — she wanted him. 

She really-fucking wanted him. 

She wanted to hug him tightly, she wanted to lay on his chest, and she wanted to tangle their legs together. She wanted to snuggle on his lap, press her nose under his jaw, and smell the curve of his neck. She wanted to visit every corner of his body, kiss every spot along the journey, and taste every flavor of his soul. 

And it was scary, because she couldn’t remember ever wanting someone that much. 

She couldn’t remember a time in her life when her entire body had ached to touch someone. To kiss someone. 

She had never felt that desire burning up through her veins, tingling down her toes, blazing up her fingers. 

She had never experienced an overpowering feeling like that. 

To want someone like that. To need someone like that. To desire someone like that.

Like she wanted him. Like she needed him. Like she desired him.

So bad.

So, so bad.

Shit… 

She bit her lip. 

What was she supposed to do with all those feelings?

She grazed her fingers over the hem of his sleeve, then kept her hand on his arm, wrapping it around where the fabric ended and his bare skin began.

“Where…” Lia murmured, almost out of breath. “Where do they end?”

Harry blinked, then cleared his throat. 

His voice was also barely a whisper when he answered, “My tattoos?”

“Mhm.”

“It’s hard to say.”

“Oh…” She glanced to where her hand was, then bit her lip. “Okay…”

She didn’t want to get her hopes too high up, but it seemed like Harry was just as affected as she was. The atmosphere and the interaction between them had turned into something different. Something exciting. She had no doubts about it. She knew she wasn’t the only one feeling something. She knew he would say yes to whatever she asked.

For the first time, she couldn’t even question it. She just knew it. 

Harry sighed. It was enough to get her attention back, but he still moved his free hand back to her chin, once again encouraging her to stare into his eyes. 

“You’re just so…”

“W—what?”

“Beautiful.”

Lia’s stomach swirled. 

Tightening the grip on her chin and slightly pinching her skin, Harry used the tip of his thumb to touch her lips, caressing them with a stroke that went from one side to the other. He went back and forth a couple of times, then stopped precisely on top of her cupid’s bow. When he pressed his finger down, and into her closed mouth, time stopped around them. 

Lia watched him breathlessly through glossy eyes, whilst Harry immersed himself into his very own movements. 

He brushed his other four fingers towards her neck, invading the side of her throat. Then, he slid his thumb down, and pulled her bottom lip along with it. 

He stared at the way his fingertip glided through her warm, pink and damp flesh; getting wet from the ring of his finger to the tip of his nail.

Frozen, speechless, and out of breath, Lia lost herself in time, not even remembering what they’d been talking about or how they’d gotten themselves into that situation. Or how long they’d spent in that same position, sitting on her couch. 

As soon as his thumb reached her chin and he let go of her mouth, Harry batted his eyelashes, dragging the tip of his tongue in between his own lips and licking them. 

And then, still hypnotized in her mouth, he asked, “Can I kiss you?” 

Lia nodded, because it was all she trusted she could do.

And Harry sighed, dragging his hand to the back of her neck and pulling her forward. 

He leaned to meet her halfway, closing his eyes and pursing his lips before crushing their mouths together. His lips were cold and wet, and he didn’t move them against hers, just like she didn’t move hers against his. They simply remained forcefully pressed against each other, as if their mouths connecting was intense enough to freeze them both.

After a moment, Harry softened the grip on her and pulled away from her mouth. 

The sound of their lips disconnecting echoed in her apartment, vibrating into Lia’s chest and mind. Only then she took in what had just happened, and she gasped quietly, drawing a deep, audible breath in. 

Harry blinked.

“Lia, I’m—”

Cradling his cheeks, Lia leaned back in, closing her eyes and pressing her mouth against his once again. Their lips fit perfectly this time, molding around each other as she took his upper lip between hers and slightly sucked it into her mouth. Without rushing, she darted her tongue over his flesh and savored him, finally getting a taste of what she’d been craving for so long. 

Her belly fluttered as her body reacted to the minty, juicy, and warm sensation. Something she could only describe as delicious, addictive, and magnetic. 

With a gentle bite, she pulled away and blinked, letting his lip slide slowly through her teeth as she created some distance between them. When she looked at him, she found him frozen in place with closed eyes and parted lips, breathing out small puffs of air that made Lia ache for his mouth all over again. 

“What?” she whispered, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks. “What were you going to say?”

Harry fluttered his eyelashes open, but only for half a second, immediately shaking his head and going back in for a new kiss. He didn’t hold back, then, nor wasted any more time, sliding his palm down her spine and crossing both of his arms around her waist whilst dipping his tongue between her lips and searching for hers. 

And Lia gave in just as quickly and just as desperately, granting him free access as she met his tongue with her own and moved along with his body, putting both of her legs up and kneeling on the couch. 

There was a new sense of urgency between them. Their mouths moved in perfect sync, meeting over and over again for desperate kisses that erased all of her doubts and paused all of her thoughts.

His mouth was tender, and yet hungry for her. He explored her with the same curiosity, desire and need she explored him, tugging her closer whilst shifting to get closer as well. 

Her belly bubbled and swirled. Sweat dripped down her neck, and a wave of annoyance quivered through her. It was too good to be true, and yet it still wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She needed more. 

So she pulled away and broke the kiss, straightening up and moving her arms to take her damn-freaking-useless cardigan off. 

Everything happened so fast that she barely acknowledged Harry’s help, or the way he smiled at her reaction. All she noticed was how he dropped the item on the floor and didn’t miss a beat before launching himself onto her neck, spreading open-mouthed kisses while sneaking his hands under her tank-top and pressing his palms onto her back. 

Following his pace, Lia threaded her fingers through his hair and closed her eyes, relishing on his actions. Harry shifted backwards, and without even once breaking them apart, he squared his shoulders with the back of the couch and pulled Lia along, guiding her to climb on top of him. 

Lia held herself onto him and kneeled on the cushion, swinging one leg over his lap before easing her weight down and landing on his thighs. It was all he needed to be able to taste her skin with the same urgency he’d tasted her mouth. Burying his nose, parting his lips and poking his tongue out. Sinking his fingertips into her sides while shifting the brush of his scruff up to her jaw, then further down to her ear.

And then a soft, unexpected moan vibrated in the back of her throat, and Harry stopped moving.

“Damn,” he breathed into her neck, then dragged his mouth up and back to hers. “C’mere.”

He kissed her eagerly and passionately, taking his hands up to the back of her head and getting his fingers tangled with her hair. Then pulling her closer and right onto his lap.

The new pressure between her legs spurred another moan from Lia’s chest, which was quickly muffled by their twined, impatient tongues. And by the way Harry sighed into her mouth. 

He untangled his fingers from her hair and wandered both of his hands through her back, tracing roughly all of her curves before landing on her bum. He spread his hand open and gave her ass a rough squeeze, then directed her to adjust on top of him and roll just the tiniest bit on his length. 

The new friction was enough to smudge her wetness over him, and a delicious throb and shudder shot through her body. She moaned louder this time, and a low and guttural sound rasped in the back of Harry’s throat.

“Keep going,” he mumbled. “Yeah?”

With a nod, Lia placed her arms around his neck, turning her building emotions into a desperate hug before unashamedly rolling her hips once, twice, and thrice. 

Shit. 

Knowing he was getting hard was hot, but being able to feel him getting hard as she pleasured herself on it was on a whole other level. It turned every sensation into flames, and it made everything inside her combust. 

And apparently it made Harry go feral as well. Wandering his hands all over her body, capturing every inch of her. Squeezing her waist, exploring her chest, grasping her thighs, sliding to her bum and clinging to it while scooching down on the couch and guiding her to keep rocking back and forth.

Harry was in charge, there was no doubt of that. He guided their kisses skillfully — with a mix of hunger, lusciousness and softness. He moved vehemently, devouring her tenderly and yet with no mercy at all. He tasted fresh, and sweet, and powerful. Pulling away for half a second only to tilt his head to the opposite side and start all over again.  

Lia had never been kissed like that, and she already knew she would never be kissed like that again. The way he grabbed her — so tightly — and the hungry sounds in the back of his throat — so manly — made her body ache for more. Pleasure pulsed through every single one of her veins, and everything burned. Burned. And burned.

Dropping her hands down his chest, Lia tugged at the fabric of his t-shirt and helped him get rid of it. Just as easily and hurriedly as they’d gotten rid of her cardigan. And then Harry dropped both hands to the hem of her top and tugged it up, too. 

“Off?”

Lia nodded and lifted her arms, and soon the item was thrown somewhere she couldn’t see and Harry’s mouth was attached to her breast. And also his hand. With every single one of his fingers digging into her.

She sighed, and perhaps she even quietly moaned, too. 

It was just so unexpected and so… Good. 

So, so good. 

The way he sucked her in and flicked his tongue — up and down, side to side. The way he sank his teeth, meanwhile squeezed his hand around the other one. The way he pinched. Teased. Played with it. With them. With her.

“Oh God,” escaped through her mouth, and Lia bit her lip. Embarrassment quickly spread through her face, so she pressed her cheek on the top of his head and looked away. Hiding from him.

Harry let go of her with a pop and one last flick of his tongue, then crossed his arms around her back. He kissed her chest, and her shoulder, and her neck. Trailing a wet path all the way to her ear.

“You sound really nice,” he murmured. “And I’m so turned on right now… But I don’t… I don’t have a condom with me.”

Lia pulled away from the position she was in and shook her head. 

She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d bought a condom. 

“Me neither.”

She leaned in, searching for his lips and kissing him again. 

Harry kissed her back, until he twisted his fingers around her hair and yanked her away from his mouth. 

“We can’t…” he breathed out. “We can’t keep going without a condom.”

Lia blinked and looked at him. 

Harry sat underneath her. His lips were wet and swollen from so much kissing. His hair was disheveled and untamed. And his t-shirt was nowhere to be seen.

“I—I know, but…”

She slid her palms down his chest — his solid, warm, hairy chest. 

God, she was so, so needy. She couldn’t stop now. She didn’t want to stop now. She was so lost in pleasure. So lost in how he looked. How he tasted. How he sounded. How he smelled. So lost in how he made her feel, and so incredibly aware of how her deepest dreams were finally — finally — coming true. Of how much she wanted him. 

So, so lost, and so, so aware, that funnily enough she didn’t even notice when she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his, then held onto his neck and resumed the rolling of her hips — back and forth, back and forth.

“Can’t we just…” Lia murmured, then stopped to bite her lip and hum. 

“Jesus Christ.” He crossed his arms around her back and kissed her. “We can. Yeah. We sure can.” 

He squeezed his hands around her, constantly guiding her to keep grinding on him, and soon the entire living room was filled with their urgency. And the urgency between them was filled with pure determination. And their determination was made of hurried breathings, dizzy groans, and hot moans. And everything became so intense and so greedy that it suddenly became extremely uncoordinated, and Lia couldn’t focus on kissing him anymore, and she had absolutely no idea what she was doing with her hands anymore. 

Harry must’ve sensed her, because he was quick to crawl one hand up her spine and place it on the back of her head, entangling his fingers with her hair and keeping her face close to his. At the same time, he kept his other arm firm and secure around her waist, and made sure she wouldn’t break their closeness, nor stop the back and forth of her hips. 

Dizzy, Lia hummed another moan. She rested her forehead against his, smudging their noses together while they breathed from each other’s mouths. She blinked, and through blurry eyes watched Harry’s eyebrows pulled together, and his eyelids shut tightly. He kept his lips parted while he panted, breathlessly just like her, and then he tightened his hold on her, scooched even further down the couch, and thrusted his hips up, meeting the rolling of her hips.

His hardness stroked exactly where Lia needed him the most, and her entire body jolted. 

With a moan, she placed her hands on the back of the couch to hold herself and closed her eyes, concentrating on how incredibly good he felt between her legs. 

“Fuck,” Harry’s husky voice grunted, his hot breath hitting her mouth and cheek. “That’s… That’s it. C’mon.”

Lia felt him vibrating all over her body, and electricity blasted her senses. 

It was maddening, and agonizing. 

It was addictive, and satisfying. 

Harry’s body kept stroking and rubbing the right place between her legs, the one she needed for the bubble of tension and pleasure to grow. It spread to her lower back, her belly, her chest, her core. It caused Lia to squeeze her eyes, to furrow her brows, and to tremble. It prompted her to move faster. And also to straighten up a little, shoving her chest onto Harry’s face as she moved her hips to find the constant pressure on that exact wonderful spot she needed to finally explode. 

As soon as she found the position she was looking for, she grasped onto the couch and focused on pressing down — pressing down, down, and down, while rolling more, more, and more. 

“Fucks sake you’re so hot,” he breathed out, digging his hands into her thighs and his lips all above and around her breasts. He thrusted up to meet her again, gripping and squeezing as she lost the strength and coordination of her body. “Don’t stop. C’mon.”

“Oh my—” 

Letting her mouth fall open, Lia cried a gasped moan into the top of his head. A mix between shock, euphoria, and need. 

She shut her eyes tightly and shivered, squeezing his waist between her thighs and falling onto him while every single one of her muscles contracted and relaxed all at once. 

Frantic. 

Shattering. 

Fiery.

Pleasure rippled through her. It waved all over — from her belly, to her cheeks, to her toes. 

Everything went dark as the thrill and the fizz took over every inch of her. She didn’t want to stop, but she couldn’t help it. It had been a while since she’d been with someone, and even longer since she’d had an orgasm while being with someone, so it made sense that her feelings were so intense. Or that her exhausted body couldn’t handle the sensitivity. 

So she nuzzled on his neck and embraced the bliss, catching up her breath while he guided her to ride out the high with slow and gentle touches.

But then, Harry cursed. 

He shifted slightly underneath her, grunted, cursed again, and then apologized. 

Lia opened her eyes slowly, blinking a couple of times to focus on her surroundings. Harry’s neck was all she could see, though. Pretty, smooth, sweaty skin of his neck. The urge to kiss him was instant, so she licked her lips, snuggled closer, and pressed her mouth to the side of his throat. 

Harry squeezed her hips and thrusted up, his covered length sliding onto Lia’s front. 

“Fuck. Shit—Sorry.” He chuckled, saying the same words for what felt like the hundredth time. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

“S’okay…” Lia murmured, sliding her hands from his shoulders to his chest. Her lips brushed his skin as they moved, and she took the opportunity to kiss it again, and again. 

“I’m just… I’m really hard right now…” he confessed the obvious, dropping his head back and grunting to the ceiling. “Shit.”

He shifted again. As if trying to get away from the friction. Or maybe searching to get some more of it. 

Lia hummed, slithering her fingers further down his upper body while she scooched backwards on his thighs. 

As soon as she reached his high-waisted pants, Harry jolted. He circled her wrists with one hand and squeezed her hip with the other, warning with a chuckle. “Lia…”

He never stopped her, though. So she brushed her nose up and down his neck, and drifted her fingers smoothly along the black fabric.  

“What?” she whispered, then pressed a kiss right under his ear. “Want me to stop?”

“Fuck no.”

Lia smiled.

Turning her hand upside down, she covered his bulge and stroked him over his pants. Once, and twice. 

At that, Harry moaned.

The sound was so husky, so low and so manly, and yet so vulnerable and so weak at the same time, that it prompted her to repeat the movement. Again. And again. 

Even through the fabric of clothes, he felt amazing under her palm—long, thick, and firm. 

Lia could only imagine what he would look like, or even taste like. And so she asked, repeating the same question he’d breathed out earlier, “Off?”

Harry barely nodded once before he was already shifting and unbuttoning his pants, and he didn’t even have time to pull his briefs down before Lia’s hand was already working on him. Each time with more strength and confidence. Over and over. Licking her palm to make it easier. Better. Brushing around his tip. Twisting here and there. Squeezing and gripping as she moved up and down.

“Holy shit.” He bucked his hips forward, then covered her hand with his, panting heavily while guiding her touch. 

Lia hummed. Parting her lips, she pressed her mouth to his jaw, then slid her tongue to taste the scratchiness of his facial hair.

He moaned again, and then he took his free hand up, ranking his fingers through her hair and yanking her head away from where he couldn’t see her. 

“Kiss me,” he murmured, directing her face to his and drawing her in to get exactly what he wanted.

Lia’s response was immediate, losing herself with his mind-numbing, sloppy, and harsh mouth. Kissing the hell out of him while he writhed and struggled beneath her. Going along with the urgent pace of his hand and swallowing each one of his raspy curses and low rumbled moans. Whimpering along when he drove their connected hands from his base to his head, and then back to his base. Or when he squeezed her hand so they could squeeze himself together, or when he stroked further down and managed to focus on other sensitive parts of him. 

The way he tasted, the way he smelled, the way he sounded, the way he felt. Watching him, listening to him, and helping him as he crumbled beneath her with pure and raw pleasure. Everything was so powerful that she wouldn’t be surprised if it ended up leading her into another orgasm. 

And then every muscle of his body tensed as he pulsed one last time and growled with pleasure. 

Lia broke the kiss and pulled away, keeping the pace of her hand and watching the way his mouth fell open, how he furrowed his brows while shutting his eyelids tightly, and how he shuddered underneath her touch. And just like that, the mess was all over her, and him.

The sight was so intense and intimate, that it filled her heart with emotion. So Lia took her free hand to his face, cradled his cheek, and kissed him again. Capturing his bottom lip between hers, sucking it into her mouth, and pouring him with affection.

Harry hummed, closing his mouth around her upper one while slowly coming down from his own high. 

He sounded content, and relaxed. And a happy smile bursted out from Lia’s chest, inevitably breaking their kiss. 

Smiling as well, Harry leaned in to peck her mouth one more time and pulled away, collapsing onto the couch.

“Holy shit…” he chuckled, breathlessly and quietly. Only for them to hear. “Just… Just so you know… Tomorrow morning I’m going out… And getting us some bloody fucking condoms, ok?” 

THREE

[hanasnx]

❝ mercury: retrograde. ❞

── batman x reader

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 2k SUMMARY: after your failed attempt to recover the last pieces of joker present in the victims of his diseased blood donation, you discover a mystery about the batman in both body and spirit. NOTES: during the events of batman: arkham knight, when harley quinn tries to reclaim the joker-ified victims from panessa studios. the reader is somewhat in the place of harley quinn WARNINGS: f!reader | explicit sexual content | implied creampie | unprotected sex | established relationship: enemies to lovers | size difference | slapping (m receiving) | previous relationship with joker is implied.

You stir at the feeling of strong grips handling your waist, the heavy haze of unconsciousness fading as you’re lifted from the ground. Memories gradually return with each inch gained, and your eyelids flutter open, the dull light stinging your gaze. The motion of you being punctually raised to your feet only to be thrown over the shoulder of none other than the BATMAN is jarring to say the very least. “Hey. Hey!” you interject when you come to, your mouth finally catching up with your brain as your stomach makes contact with his armored shoulder, and the wind is knocked from your lungs.

“Take Charisma back to the cells. I’ll catch up.” he orders the newest Boy Wonder. A man clad in red and green holds Johnny Charisma in a similar fashion to your position, mirroring you.

Robin nods, and sees himself out. “Don’t take too long.” he jests, and if you were paying more attention you would’ve rolled your eyes. Instead, you’re much too busy running your mouth with any kind of noise, kicking your feet, and banging your fists against the Bat’s lower back. With each blow, the cape bounces back to brush your angry hands, and in a brief fascination you clutch onto the foreign material with the intent to rip it. Of course, it doesn’t, and you consider the possibility of tearing into it with your teeth as you would duct tape. To calm your writhing legs, he straps an arm around your thighs, lumbering along with you on his shoulder as if you simply weren’t there. It’s dizzying being all the way up here, the Bat towers over most everyone… it’s that or all the blood that’s rushed to your head. He enters a different room than where Robin went, and momentarily you entertain the fact he seeks to interrogate you. But what could you possibly know that the Bat wants? It was always Joker with the big ideas. Now that he’s gone, you’ve been trying replace him as the Head Guy but it’s just not the same.

So you thrash. You move your body in any way you can think of, anything to loosen his vice-like grasp on you, but he is infallible. Taking you deeper into this abandoned set in Panessa Studios. “Put me down—! Hey! Are you listening to me? I said, put- me- down— Oh!” Your commands are interrupted by your own squeak of surprise as he unceremoniously drops you, landing on your feet with a bounce as your countenance shifts to one of endearing disbelief. You rally, skewing your features to convey indignity. “How dare you?” you scold, but it’s grossly performative. You raise your hand, punctuating your disdain for him with a sharp slap of admonishment to his cheek. It reverberates in this empty room, and his neck has craned from the force. Perhaps out of respect. You’ve seen this freak throw grown men across the room, you’re sure he feels nothing but a sting on his skin. So you give him another one, smacking him to pivot him to the other side.

“Touching a lady like that! You should know better! I’m wearing a skirt! Anyone could’ve seen! What would my men think of their boss if they’ve seen her panties? Huh? Do you have any idea what it takes to be a leader in this economy?” With each passing phrase, your voice heightens shriller, the emotion of the scene getting to you, but he is unaffected. Slowly, he faces you, opening his eyes to meet your vindictive gaze. “You—! You’re the one that killed him, if he were still alive I wouldn’t have to be in this mess—“ your tone cracks at the mention of the Joker, and a desperate sort of need takes you over. You throw yourself onto the statuesque vigilant who remains expressionless as you clutch onto whatever purchase his tight armor possesses, climbing up his chest to his collar.

Your instability is cause for your sudden shift in depression and wrath; one second you’re clinging onto him, shaking him (or more accurately, shaking yourself using him and his immovable body), and the next you’re pinching your features into a frown and weakly banging your fists against his chest for round two. They glance off, and he stares down at you. It takes you an inappropriate amount of time to question how long he’s been letting you do this to him, until he side-steps you. Comically, you fall forward from the loss of balance, the lack of his beam-like support causing you to stumble and clumsily regain your footing to round on him.

“Enough.” he commands, and his recognizably annoyed tone sets your lips into a thin line. “Tell me what you know.” Inviting himself into your space, this dark towering figure stoops to your level, forcing you to arch back as he imposes.

You audibly gulp, scanning his form. He notes that. That scares you. So you attempt to throw him off the trail, taking a step back so you have room to straighten, cross your arms, and stick your nose in the air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you insist, and wiggle your shoulders, peeking at him through your closed eyes to gauge his reaction. You don’t have time to react before his huge glove has enclosed in the puffy fabric of your sleeve, yanking you back to him. Instinctively, you reach out, bracing against his chest so you won’t trip again. A furtive glance is paid to your hand’s position on his emblem, and when you meet his gaze he’s already looking at yours.

“You’re here for the patients. You think they’ve got the potential to replace him, don’t you?” Just like that, he ruins the moment with his big mouth.

You scowl, lifting yourself on your toes as if that’ll intimidate him. “They are him!”

“He’s dead!” The anger behind his words admits how resentful he is that you won’t deal with the Joker’s death.

“Because of you!”

“Don’t be stupid.” An alarming shift in his tone conveys an uncharacteristic smugness, one that creases your brow in bewilderment because of how likely the phrase sounded like Batman was about to laugh at you. “How long are you going to live in that fantasy?”

“I—” you begin, but a flash catches you off-guard. Untensing, you search his eyes for that flash again. A glint. A glimpse of that familiar viridian. You’ve looked into Batman’s eyes countless times, you know his irises are colored blue. But for one single second, you could’ve sworn you saw a little of J in there. As if you weren’t in control of your own body, you take a step forward. A great sense of relief overcoming you at the sight of green blooming faithfully in Batman’s eyes. “It’s you…” you muse in wonder, your gentle hands coming to cup his rough face, your fingertips grazing the helmet’s smooth material.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you stunned the Bat. But he doesn’t let it last long, growling in offense as he uses your abused top to toss you against a prop wall. You clatter against the hollow wood, meagerly propped up by the 2x4s on the other side. His massive fist nails the surface right by your head, and you’re too in awe to flinch.

“Tell me what I want to know!” The Batman orders, and you know exactly what to tell him. You pounce on him, draping your body all over his armor as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” you exclaim. You had no idea a little taste of Joker blood had infiltrated the Big Bad Bat. Here he is, right in front of you again. Old feelings come flooding back as your lips peck at whatever is in reach, punctuated with audible “muahs.”

He recoils, but your grip only tightens, clinging onto him until he pries you off by his hands on your wrists.

“Oh, baby,” you croon, bending over to show him your cleavage as you wiggle it for him. “Why you gotta make me wait, huh? Didn’t you miss me too?” Your wrists, suspended in mid-air, make your arousal run impossibly deeper. Firmly enclosed in his big hands, restrained, you could jump out of your own skin. You tilt your head at him as he observes you, as unperturbed as ever, and you wonder if he’s fighting off the Joker-persona that takes over. “You know you want it…” you exhale, lusty and provocative. “I know you do. Whether you’re the Bat or the Joke I know you want me.” you test. Your tongue licks at the lipstick on your lips. “Don’t worry,” you whisper, desperate. “I won’t tell anyone.”

This is not the first time he’s been tempted by you, yet he finds it more difficult than the last to refuse you. He allows you to take a step closer. “Fuck it.” he says, and you squeal with delight as he scoops you up, pinning you back to the wall. You slam your lips to his, and he eagerly accepts you. The kind of kiss that’s fucking sloppy. Disgusting. As reserved and formal as he is in kissing you, you’re far too disorderly for that. All tongue, you thrust it out between your lips to shove it into his, enthusiastic in playing with his. Surprisingly, he accepts it but doesn’t match your energy as you tongue-fuck his mouth. You trace it over all the wrong places, giddy in the notion you know what the inside of Batman’s mouth feels like. You line it over his his teeth until you’re sure you could recreate his dental print from memory.

It all happens so fast. One second you’re making out, sucking on his tongue like it’s his cock, the next his utility belt is on the floor and his actual cock is rearranging your insides. He’s a lot bigger than your old boss.

“Fuck, fuck! Right there, right there!” you mewl your praises, wet pussy gratefully slurping up his every inch. It’s unfathomable how long you’ve gone without proper dick, and something about the way he’s bullying his way into you hits the spot. Everything from the angle of fucking you against this wall, to the gruff and animalistic exhales he expels with each thrust has your pretty eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Oh, my fucking God! Who knew you could fuck like this? If I’d’ve known you feel this good I would’ve hopped on your bat-cock years ago.” Mindless, stupid ramblings of a thankful whore, reeling from his thick fingers that leave bruises in the flesh of your thighs. He’s relatively quiet, letting you do the talking, perhaps he already regrets his decision to screw you but it’s too late now. Whatever implication this proves he’s not stopping to examine the morality of it, chasing his high and using your body to do it.

The familiar tremor in your thighs lets you know how close you really are, clawing at his armor. His hand cups your jaw, tucking your chin into the web of his thumb, pinching your cheeks together a bit as he adjusts you to look at him. “You wanna finish?” he asks through the grit in his teeth, and you nod furiously, stifled by his hold.

“Yes. Yes, baby, I wanna finish. I wanna cum.” you whine, seeking to please him.

“Promise to be good?”

A stinging thrill shoots up your spine originating from your sex. You had no idea he was into that kind of stuff, nor implementing it. You go crazy for it. Once again, you nod furiously. Whatever that definition entailed— to be good— you would do it. Anything for him. “I promise, I promise. I promise to be good, I promise.”

You find out later being good entails being thrown into a cell to await policy recovery. Oh, but it was fucking worth it.

[nervoussagittarius]

bikers backpack

matt sturniolo x biker!reader

summary: where matt’s girlfriend is a biker and at first matt is scared for her until he realizes it’s actually an attractive hobby, request

warnings: fluff, a little angst, language

“matt! guess what!” you exclaimed as you ran into his room. unbeknownst to him you had just bought your second motorcycle. your dream to own a kawasaki ninja bike had finally come true. you’d been saving up money from different odd jobs you’d done to be able to afford it.

“i finally bought my 4- stroke, six speed, metallic gray ninja 650.” you could’ve almost cried with excitement. matt knew this day was coming. he knew your love for bikes and as much as it made him anxious he couldn’t help but feel that twinge in his heart everytime you got this excited around him. in the two years you guys had been dating your hobby had only gone on in one of them.

your fascination for motorcycles steamed from the long line of harley riders you had in your family. growing up around the vehicles only made you want to learn to drive them more. on your 18th birthday you went out and got your motorcycle license it wasn’t until a year later that you got your first bike. it was a beat up motorcycle with over sixty thousand miles that you bought off of facebook marketplace, but it was your baby. you rode it everywhere and took such good care of it.

matt on the other hand hated the fact that you drove motorcycles. he was supportive in everything you did, as you were for him, but this was the one thing he couldn’t get behind. he was always a so worried about you because of how dangerous it can be. he barely liked being in a car. the idea of being on a bike with an engine made him sick.

matt looked up at you hesitantly. he didn’t want to make you upset, but he couldn’t find it in himself to jump for joy at your words like you did. “that’s cool, y/n. i’m happy for you.” his smile didn’t quite meet his eyes and you could feel the coldness in his words. you didn’t want to have another fight about the fact that you liked riding bikes, but you also didn’t want to feel like you couldn’t share your accomplishments or things you enjoy with your boyfriend. “can you at least pretend to care?” you questioned harshly. your words caught him off guard.

“i don’t care? really?” his tone changed. you could tell your words hurt him, but neither of you were ones to back down from a conversation like this. matt continued, “i care that 72 out of 10,000 motorcyclists experience a crash. i care that 80% of motorcycle accidents result in injuries or death. i care that california has the second highest number of motorcycle fatalities. i care about what matters so sorry if your upset that i’m not thrilled about your new purchase.”

choosing not to argue with him you simply backed out of his room and left his house. you felt like matt didn’t trust you. you knew the statistics but you were always so careful. you wore a helmet and protective gear. you never rode by yourself, you always had at least one other biker with you. you took all the necessary precautions so you didn’t know why matt wouldn’t listen to you about this. you would give him a chance to cool off and maybe bring the topic back up at a later time. you wanted him to know how you felt but maybe it was better to do it at a time where you both were more level headed.

later that night, after having a conversation with chris about how it’s your life and not his, matt felt like he owed you an apology. both you and chris were right. he was focusing on the wrong things. all he wanted was for you to be happy but him being negative wasn’t going to help you achieve that. matt made his way over to your house ready to talk, but as he pulled down your street he couldn’t help but notice you in your driveway ready to leave on your new motorcycle.

pulling up next to you, he couldn’t help but feel attracted to the sight in front of him. you were always beautiful, but for some reason his body gave him a different response to seeing you next to your bike. “what are you doing here?” you questioned as matt got out of his car, your voice barely above a whisper. “i came to apologize. i was wrong to get upset like that. i should’ve been more supportive because i know how much you enjoy this kind of stuff. so i’m sorry.” his words meant a lot to you. you had been feeling extremely discouraged since you left his house so you needed to hear this.

before you could even respond matt threw out, “also, i want to go on a ride with you.” to say you were shocked would be a complete understatement. “you want to go on a ride?” “yep.” you looked at him in denial. “a ride on a motorcycle?” he just responded with a nod and a smile.

“are you sure because you really don’t have to. i really appreciate your apology, but i don’t want you to do anything that’s going to make you uncomfortable or anxious.” you quickly said.

“no i want to, sweetheart. i think some exposure therapy would be good for me, and to be completely honest you look so good right now, you could probably get me to do anything you wanted.” he sent you a wink as he came over and put his hands on your waist. matt tilted his head down slightly so you guys were eye level before pressing his lips to yours.

you never thought you’d see the day where matthew sturniolo was putting on a helmet and was willingly getting on a motorcycle. not that you were complaining though. you put your helmet and gloves on, “are you 100% sure you want to do this?” you asked. matt flipped the visor of his helmet down and gently bonked his head against yours. “get on baby let’s go.” he said pulling you hand.

and with that you sat in front of him with his arms wrapped around you, and you went off on your memorized path to where you planned to meet up with some of your friends that also ride. it was safe to say that after the first couple minutes matt enjoyed himself. he took notice to you attention to the world around you, which he appreciated, and he was happy to know more about the hobby you loved so much. matt was now your personal backpack

an: this is shorter then normal but i haven’t written in a couple weeks so i need to get back into it. i thought this was cute though and i hope y’all enjoy

taglist: @maryx2xx @norr1ssturni0lo @recklessmatt @luvr4miya @hpyjw @unbruisable @watercolorskyy @elliewrites1 @rheaasturn @slxt4matt @mmay4ever @aurizp

[calp0sa]

what do you like and dislike about airy?

CRAZY MESSY INFODUMP INCOMING OH LORD

well there’s nothing i truly dislike about airy, because everything about him just makes him who he is. i just wish we got more insight to him as an Actual person rather than his host facade, even though that was sort of the point of one 17-18, i feel like the fact that he’s pretty much a regular ass dude went over most people’s heads (Not mine though because im really smart and could beat albert einstein in a rap battle) i know the mystique is the most prominently interesting aspect of the whole show… but yknowwww it’d be nice to know a little more about him personally considering how we now know he’s far from a one-dimensional character and shouldn’t be taken at face value (i am side eyeing a huge chunk of the one fandom as i say this) now okay if i were to talk about everything i like about airy we’d be here til the next solar eclipse but i’ll try to jot down everything i can. airy, to me, is the most fascinating object show character there is. i swear every time i observe something about him it’s like i’m opening a matryoshka doll as i dissect his character further and further… every rewatch of one i notice something, whether it be minuscule or glaring, there’s always something for me to brutally analyze. see, and here’s where i contradict myself, because while it’s frustrating not having much official trivia on him, i actually quite love how mysterious he is. i love how he seems like he knows a lot more than he lets on. i love how his caginess only sparks more questions. and i love how FESTERED he is. how you can tell there was so much that led up to him being so numb and stagnant… it does nothing but pique my interest. and i love how this festered-ness parallels with the contestants. i can’t help but feel as if the true extent of airy’s suffering was reflected through those on the plane, how the contestants went through so many fluctuant stages of sadness, denial, hopelessness, anger… all in the midst of isolation akin to airy’s forest. it makes me wonder if ONE served as catharsis to airy. not just a purpose or a distraction, but something to spark resonance within a desolate soul. speaking of distraction, it’s really interesting to me how reliant airy is on escapism, and this is most evident in how he literally takes on such a gilded and contrived host persona to the point where it’s difficult for the viewer to discern who he is OUTSIDE of “airy”. big fan of how the show basically tricks us into thinking he’s this ruthless malevolent all powerful entity until it takes us by surprise and reveals that he’s Just Some Guy, and it could’ve been anyone in his place. but this isn’t to defend him… no… airy was definitely a selfish and inconsiderate asshole (sorry yall) he just isn’t as awful as everyone makes him out to be. airy is not evil, nor is he good, he just kind of sucks LOL. and i love him for that honestly! the thing about this is he should’ve stopped and asked himself “what am i going to gain from this” yet he was so absorbed in trying to hoist himself out of that inevitable pit of dread that he did not care if he destroyed everything else in the process (Might i add that this is a huge parallel to liam’s impulsive vengefulness… i swear i could go on and on about how those two are brothers from another mother) another interesting thing about the hosting stage of airy is the chance that he probably did feel some sort of regret. especially after the shock of breaking his face, being confronted by harsh genuine emotions after such a long time… an iota of the pain and fear he assumed was long gone… as well as the crushing reminder that he basically threw himself and all his senses away just for a stupid game. What a loser amirite. even if he had some semblance of a wish to end ONE, he knew he couldn’t. i’d imagine he told himself mockingly “yeaaaa you basically dug yourself into this, you’re not backing out any time soon” (even though he could’ve easily backed out he was just a loser ass COWARD!)

i didn’t know the paragraphs had character limits! interesting. anyway i can’t help but wonder if airy made that effort to take care of liam in an attempt to break the cycle, the cycle of destroying everything else, including your very self, for the purpose of One thing. maybe airy thinks violence and spite is just a huge waste of time yes of course, but i think he understood liam to some extent (remember what i said about resonance 😁😁😁) i just love how everything about airy is so subtle, yet so major, so jarring and confusing yet when you piece it all together it makes such a scary amount of sense. i love making sense of how nonsensical he is. (of course i do. i am possibly the biggest fan of nonsense there is) now i will add a funny little thing i like about him. i like how he’s all impatient and snarky. and i know you’re probably thinking “franklin how in the abraham lincoln’s bootycheek do you think he’s snarky” Listen, it’s really funny once you actually notice it. there were so many instances where he sounded exasperated with the contestants. my personal favorite being

“yes, as long as you are here, you can’t die”

>”WE CANT DIE?”

“Yes… that’s… what i just said 😐”

he has this barely noticeable “oh my god can you let me do what i need to do” attitude and it’s SO funny. i like to imagine he rolled his eyes a lot while he was hosting. its really funny to imagine. and its also funny to imagine him smiling like an idiot like he did hosting in one 17. that scene was really cute it makes me want to run into ongoing traffic and get continuously ran over by 12 different semi-trucks. if you ignore how miserable the contestants were (sorry contestants) it’s actually really endearing how excited and eager airy was when he got ideas for challenges. i bet he felt so proud of himself it’s honestly kind of sad. he’s sad. what the hell. he really thought he was the SHIT when he said “riches… immortality… whatever your heart desires 😌” Oh my god he’s so pathetic don’t even get me started MY ONLINE CLASSES ARE STARTING I GOTS TO GO BUT ANYWAY FEEL FREE TO ASK FOR AN ANALYSIS ABOUT LITERALLY ANYTHING AIRY RELATED I HAVE MORE THAN A HUNDRED BIBLES’ WORTH OF SHIT TO SAY ABOUT HIM BYEBYE THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS

[munsonsmixtapes]

Wanna Bet?

tattoo artist!Eddie x tattoo artist!reader

Summary: You don't like Eddie, but he's going to convince you that you do, even if it takes a bet to prove it.

This takes places in the year 2,000!

word count: 4k

This series is being discontinued until further notice, but feel free to continue reading if you'd like!

part two part three part four

You stared at the door in front of you, the hours that were painted onto it staring back at you. Maybe if you had stood there long enough, the place would’ve closed and you could just leave. You didn’t know why you were so nervous. You had more tattoos than anyone you knew so this one should’ve been a breeze. 

Maybe it was because it was a new place. There were new people you didn’t really know yet. The tattoo shop where you had worked had shut down because of a fire and you were still in shock because of it. So not only had you lost your job, but the appointment you had set up with Kip, the owner, had been canceled. He was the only one you trusted so you were hesitant when he had given you a referral. You didn’t care if it was a friend of his, you were still nervous as shit. 

Your hand rested on the door handle. You couldn’t get yourself to open it, bile climbing up your throat. You were terrified to say the least, anxiety coursing through you as you thought of every possible thing that could’ve gone wrong. 

You had your consultation with Gareth weeks ago and had called to reschedule because you had been scared, but now you were ready. It was just a small tattoo and Gareth had assured you that he’d go easy on you and you could take as many breaks as you wanted. You were looking forward to working with him despite your nervousness. 

You finally went inside and the whole place was very tidy despite the sketchy looking exterior. It definitely seemed like whoever owned the place knew exactly how to make people feel comfortable. There was a seating area by the front door with a large couch and a coffee table with a bunch of magazines spread out on it neatly. 

A coffee bar was sitting by the front desk, complete with a freshly brewed pot and an array of mugs that fit the aesthetic of the building. There were also different types of sweeteners and a small refrigerator that was filled with many different brands of bottled water as well as multiple different flavors of coffee creamer. 

The walls were covered in framed sketches and you wished you had the time to look at them all, fascinated by the details of each one. Rock music was playing loudly over the speakers and it was a song that you had recognized from the radio. 

You walked up to the reception desk and the same guy you had remembered from before was behind it typing away on the computer. He looked up at you and gave you a bright smile as if you were old friends. 

He was on the phone with who you assumed was a customer and it didn’t seem to be going well just from hearing his side of the conversation. 

“Yes, I am so sorry, Rebecca. Believe me, it won’t happen again. Yes, he knows all about it. Yes, I’ll tell him. You have my word. Alright. Buh-bye.” He hung up the phone and brought his attention to you, a bright smile on his face. 

“Hey, so sorry about that. Welcome in,” he greeted, his honey eyes shining bright from the sun shining through the window. “How can I help you?” 

“I have an appointment.” You gave him your first and last name and he typed some stuff into the computer before looking back up at you. You eyed him and couldn’t help but notice how out of place he looked there. He didn’t have a single tattoo on him and looked like he would’ve been scared to actually step foot into the building. 

“Alright, y/n,” his smile widened and you wondered if his cheeks ever hurt from doing that as often as he seemed to do. “If you’ll follow me, we can-“ His words were cut off by the front door opening. It was slammed shut so loudly that the frames on the wall rattled. Whoever had just entered had wanted to make an entrance and it clearly had worked since everyone had turned to see what all the commotion was about. Both you and the receptionist turned to see for yourselves to see the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on. 

“I’m back, baby,” he announced, holding his arms out. Your eyes trailed down his body from his long curly hair to his black combat boots. He was so attractive and you wondered how you had never seen him before. You definitely would have remembered him if you had. The receptionist made a beeline for him as well as a few of the employees. It was clear that the man had been gone a while considering everyone’s reaction to him. He must have been pretty popular around there. 

“Steve, hug me, honey,” he pulled ‘Steve’ into his arms and pressed a kiss to his cheek only for Steve to rub it away in response. Despite his disgust, you could hear a little giggle fall from his mouth. Was this man God? He must have been because no one would react that way to a mediocre man, would they? At least, you hoped not. You hoped they all had higher standards than that. 

He took a drag of the cigarette he was holding and flashed you a smile before crossing the floor to the desk. The smoke passed through his lips and into the air and he titled his head down, his eyes locking onto yours. 

You knew his type just by looking at him. He was the life of the party. The kind of guy who thought that everyone was into him just because of his giant ego. And they were into him because of the way he carried himself. Like he didn’t give a damn about anything. And he didn’t. Not even the people who he claimed to be friends with. 

You could see him eyeing you when he stepped behind the desk, going through the envelopes that had been sitting on top of it. When most men checked you out, you’d pull your shirt down to show them a little cleavage, but for this guy, you just wrapped your cardigan around yourself, wanting to hide your body. He didn’t seem amused but wasn’t backing off. 

It was as if seeing the man had brought your confidence back. Like you were no longer the shy woman you had been just moments ago. Being around men who were full of themselves tended to do that to you. It was as if you felt the need to one up them, having more confidence than they did. You wanted to show that you had superiority. 

You turned your back to him, looking at the frames on the wall as you waited for your appointment to get straightened away. You didn’t have anywhere to be until you had to work later that night so you supposed that you could’ve waited just a bit longer. 

Your eyes locked onto one in particular. It was a sunflower and you normally wouldn’t have noticed it if it hadn’t stood out amongst all the other images that were far more dark subject matter. It was pretty and so realistic, like you could have reached out and plucked it from the painting. 

“Who’s the babe?” Eddie leaned over to Steve, whispering so he was the only one who could hear him. They both looked at you and you just avoided them, still looking at the frames. 

“She’s a client,” Steve replied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He loved the guy, but sometimes he couldn’t help but think that Eddie was nothing but a pig. “Jesus, Eddie. You just got back home and already can’t keep your dick in your pants?” 

“I’m human,” Eddie smirked, his eyes moving down to your ass, admiring the shape of it before turning back to Steve. “Sue me. I mean, look at her man,” he referred to you with his hand. “Look at that ass.” He leaned closer to Steve, pulling his lip between his teeth as he turned back to you to get another glimpse. 

“Did you miss the word ‘client’ coming out of my mouth? I’m serious, Ed, you can’t keep sleeping with them. It not only makes you look bad, it also makes the company look bad.” 

The shop had gotten multiple phone calls that Steve had the unfortunate pleasure of being on the receiving end of because that had been the phone number he has given the people he had slept with because he hadn’t deemed them important enough to give them his home number. 

Not only that, but Steve had walked in on too many of Eddie’s “meetings” in his office and was sick of the guy making a habit of it. Could he have not slept with them in his car or at his house like a normal person? 

He was getting tired of the new persona Eddie had taken on as he had gotten more popular. It was fine when he had gotten the motorcycle and when he flirted a little with the clients to make them more comfortable, but he drew the line at him acting like the complete dickhead he had become, using people for their bodies just to throw them away when he was done. 

“I just want to-“

“You want to what?” Steve cut him off “Seduce her?”

“Maybe,” Eddie rounded the desk. “We’ll see where it goes.” Steve grabbed onto the back of his jacket and pulled him back, causing Eddie to let out a yelp. 

“Not so fast,” Steve shook his head. 

“I just want to say hi,” Eddie held his hands up in defense even though the both of them knew that he was lying. 

“Saying ‘hi’ leads to flirting which leads to seducing which leads to ‘your place or mine’ which leads to you saying you’ll call and then you never do. I’ve been keeping a tally of all the people who have called here because you were an ass.” Steve held up the notebook he had been writing it and Eddie’s eyes widened. 

“Five, ten, fifteen, twenty-“ Eddie counted of the tallies to himself, not even trying to hold back his smile.  

“Forty-five, Eddie,” Steve cut him off with a glare. 

“Forty-five,” Eddie repeated, a smirk kicking up at the corner of his rosy lips. 

“And this is just with clients,” he sighed, throwing the book down “Look, you can fuck whoever you want as long as they’re not seeking business from us.” 

“Steve-“

“No,” he pointed at his friend with the pencil he was holding. “If I find out that you did anything but greet her as the owner, I swear to god I will castrate you.” Eddie’s eyes widened at Steve’s threat but only for a second before his smirk took over again. 

“But what if-“

“No, this isn’t a challenge. I mean it, if you even so much as bat your eyelashes at her, I’m going to make sure that you can never use your dick again.”

“Are you coming on to me?” Eddie batted his eyelashes. That had only happened once and they both just decided that they were better off as friends. “Damn, Stevie. I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” Steve had felt that way about Eddie once upon a time, but not anymore. Especially not since Eddie started solely thinking with his dick. 

“You’re disgusting,” Steve glared before turning back to the computer. “Now leave me alone.” 

“Happy to.” Eddie rounded the desk and made a beeline to you. He had no intention of keeping Steve’s promise and seeing the look you gave him only made him want to flirt with you even more. He had to do what he could to get the sour look off of your face. 

Unbeknownst to Eddie, you had heard his entire conversation with Steve, neither of them quite knowing what an “inside voice” was. It didn’t surprise you that Eddie would fuck anyone who was human, and it especially didn’t surprise you that most of them were clients. If you hadn’t already gone through the consultation, you would have walked right out of there. 

Fat chance if he thought he was going to get with you, but you were going to have some fun with him first. You were going to knock him down a few pegs. It was what he deserved for having whoever he wanted just because he was famous in the tattoo industry. 

“Hi,” he propped himself against the wall and you had to hold back a laugh at his flirting attempt. How could that have worked on anyone? 

“Hi,” you nodded towards him then turned back to face the frames. 

“I’m Eddie,” he put his hand out to shake and you reluctantly took it, not wanting to be rude to owner of the establishment no matter how much you wanted to tell him to fuck off. 

“Y/n,” you replied and his smile got wider. You had to admit that it was really nice. You could see at least how that worked for him. 

“Y/n,” he nodded, saying it slowly, focusing on each syllable as they fell from his lips. “That’s pretty.”

“Thanks.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here. And trust me, I’d remember someone as smokin’ as you.” That didn’t actually work on people, did it? That didn’t actually get him into people’s pants. 

“If anyone’s smokin’ here, it’s you,” you winked and wondered how you could have submitted your name to the Academy to be nominated for an Oscar for your performance. 

“So what brings you here, darlin’?” He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head to the side like a curious puppy. He almost looked  adorable. Almost. 

“I have an appointment with Gareth.” Of fucking course. Eddie took a vacation and now Gareth was getting all the pretty girls. Sometimes, life just wasn’t fair. 

“Oh,” he nodded. “I can take you to him.” 

“Okay, Edwin.” You walked ahead of him to head to wherever Gareth could have possibly been and Eddie took another opportunity to stare at your ass. The way your jeans clung to it. The way it moved when you walked. He needed to feel it, skin against skin. He just knew that it would have been soft. He desperately wanted to give it a little slap, but even he knew that wouldn’t have been appropriate. Even for him 

“It’s Eddie,” he corrected and you didn’t bother to look back at him when you spoke. 

“Sure, Eduardo.” He wasn’t used to women acting this way and he’d have been lying if he said he didn’t like it. He actually thought it was kind of hot. 

He was right behind you when you stopped abruptly at Gareth’s station. Eddie had been so busy staring that ran right into you and had to grab onto your shoulders to stop the both of you from falling to the floor. 

He let out a chuckle but you just ignored him, keeping your attention on Gareth. His face lit up when he saw you and he couldn’t help but smile as well. You hadn’t forgotten your flirty consultation and the way he looked at you from across the desk. Like he had wanted to take you right there and you would have let him. 

You had imagined running your hands through his curly hair, pressing your lips to his roughly, sticking your tongue into his mouth. Hearing his moans when you touched him in just the right spots. 

Eddie looked between the two of you and he didn’t like what he saw. The way you were smiling at each other, the flirty glint in your eyes. Whatever was going on had to be nipped right in the bud. If he couldn’t have you, no could. Not even Gareth. Especially not Gareth. 

“Hey, cutie,” you greeted, resting your hands on his table and Gareth just blushed. He wasn’t used to getting attention from people, at least not romantically. And when you had showed up and openly flirted with him, he could have sworn it was a joke. But seeing you then, he realized that you hadn’t been joking at all. 

“Hey,” he responded, a small smile forming on his lips. “How are you?”

“I’m great. And you?”

“I’m fantastic. Especially now that you’re here.” You giggled at his words, causing his blush to get pinker. Eddie watched the two of you for a bit longer then looked around the room for a trash can he could throw up in. 

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” You leaned closer and Eddie quickly turned away. No way in hell he was subjecting himself to seeing the two of you kiss. 

“Well, I’m ready when you are,” Gareth smiled and sat down in his chair, rolling it closer to the bench. 

“I’m ready now,” you nodded, sitting on the bench and Eddie took that as a sign to actually do his tasks that he had been putting off for far too long. 

———

“Gareth,” you gasped as you looked at your fresh ink in the mirror. It was a Sting from Lord of the rings and it was exactly what you wanted. He was somehow able to get it exactly how you imagined it. “This is fucking amazing.” 

“Really? You like it?” He had a sheepish smile on his face that you could see perfectly in the reflection. He was just so cute. And sweet. The complete opposite of the other guys you had been with. The complete opposite of Eddie. 

“I love it.” You turned around to face him and before you could stop yourself, you were throwing yourself into his arms. They were quick to wrap around your waist tightly. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he smiled, making no move to let go of you. “I’m glad it was what you wanted.” 

“It’s perfect. Really.” Gareth had never gotten that kind of reaction from one of his clients. They usually just thanked him and paid before leaving. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, pulling away from him. “That was totally inappropriate.” 

“No,” he assured you. “It’s okay. I…liked it.” 

“Well, good.”

“C‘mon,” he nodded his head towards the front of the shop. “Let’s get your care instructions.”

You followed him to the front desk where Steve was still typing away on the computer. Eddie was beside him, going through some envelopes. He looked up at you and Gareth and didn’t miss your close proximity, your shoulders touching. He supposed that if you ended up with anyone, it should have been Gareth. He would have treated you right and wouldn’t have just wanted to fuck you like Eddie did. 

Eddie didn’t do relationships. He just liked to get laid and have no other connection to the people. That was the only way he could do it. Thinking about being romantic with someone made him feel gross. It made him want to laugh. He only had enough love in his life for his few friends and Wayne. 

You didn’t do relationships either, but you felt like if you played your cards right, you’d be able to start something with Gareth. He was sweet and he liked you and you didn’t get that weird feeling in your gut when you were around him. That feeling that always told you that the person was bad news. And it was always right. Maybe Gareth would end up being the right guy for you. Or maybe he wouldn’t, but you were willing to find out. 

“Well, let me see!” Steve exclaimed and you turned around, stepping closer to the desk. He leaned over it to get a better look, a wide smile spreading over his face. “That’s sick…what is it?”

“C’mon, Steve. It’s from Lord of the Rings,” Eddie replied. 

“That’s what it’s from?” Gareth asked, turning to you. “I thought it was just a dagger.”

“It’s Sting. It was an Elven short-sword made in Gondolin during the First Age,” you told them. 

“Bilbo discovered it in the year TA2941 in a Troll-hoard, and used it during the Quest of Erebor,” Eddie finished, a smirk forming on his lips. He had met many women who like Lord of the Rings and had even done a few tattoos, but he liked the fact that you were so passionate about it. 

“God, you guys are such fucking nerds,” Steve scoffed. “How do you know that from memory?”

“How do you not?” You and Eddie asked in unison, causing you both to laugh. 

“Alright,” Steve turned to you. “Your total is going to be-“

“Actually, it’s on the house, right Stevie?” Gareth asked and Steve just let out a sigh. 

“Sure, I uh, I guess it’s on the house.” With how many times Eddie had done the same thing, the company had surely lost a lot of money, but Steve supposed he could make an exception. Gareth had been shot down so many times that Steve thought he at least deserved to let one girl get her tattoo for free. 

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you shook your head vigorously. You always wanted to make sure that people were getting paid properly for their work. Especially tattoo artists because that kind of thing took a lot of time and patience. “I think Gareth should be compensated for his hard work.” 

“I can be compensated in other ways,” Gareth winked at you and Eddie feigned throwing up while Steve smiled. He was just happy that the guy was finally getting some attention. He always seemed to fade into the background when Eddie was around. People always seemed to care about him and Steve felt bad for Gareth. That he was always stuck in his best friend’s shadow. He hated it for him. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you winked back. “Maybe I could repay you tonight.” Gareth liked that idea. He liked that idea a lot.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Eddie put his hand over his mouth and disappeared behind the door that was behind him. 

“I’d like that,” Gareth nodded, stepping towards you, the two of you completely ignoring Eddie. He was just jealous that he wasn’t on the receiving end of the flirting this time. He was always a sore loser even though he frequently tried to deny it. He loved Gareth. Like a brother, even. But he couldn’t help but feel jealous that the guy was getting your attention. He didn’t know why, but the fact that you didn’t seem to be interested in him only made him want to try harder. He wanted to prove himself that he could get you into bed. 

You grabbed a blank piece of paper and pen from the desk and scribbled down your phone number and address before handing it to him. He took it from you and quickly took his cell phone out of his pocket, quickly typing in the numbers and saving it under a cutesy nickname. 

“So you’ll come over after you get done here?”

“I definitely will,” he nodded.

“Great,” you smiled and Gareth could have sworn that he was feeling his knees giving out. You then leaned closer to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you tonight, Emerson.”

After you were all set, you pulled Gareth into a lingering hug then exited the shop, the man watching you through the glass as you headed down the street. He had only had a few conversations with you and was already down bad. Why did he have to always fall so easily? He knew that you’d drop him for Eddie with one bat of his lashes so he didn’t even know why he was trying. 

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe you really did like him. Maybe this wasn’t all just an elaborate plan for you to get to Eddie like he had thought. He couldn’t even keep track of how many times that had happened to him and he was sick of it. What was wrong with him? Cleary something since he was never anyone’s first choice. But for once, he was yours. He was your first choice and he couldn’t have been more elated about it. 

You got to your car and was shocked to find Eddie leaning against it. He was smoking a cigarette and you hated how you kind of found it hot. But only kind of. He was leaning against the driver’s seat door, preventing you from getting in it and he looked like he had no intention of leaving any time soon. He gave you his signature smile and you smiled back, not wanting to show just how much he was getting to you. 

“So,” he spoke, blowing the smoke from his mouth and it wafted right into your face, causing you to cough. “You and Emerson, huh?” He used his cigarette to point to the building. 

“Yes,” you nodded, waving the smoke away from your face. “But I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You crossed your arms over your chest, wondering why he cared so much. He could have anyone he wanted from what you had heard so you weren’t sure why he was so set on hitting on an almost taken woman.

“It’s my business because Gareth is my best friend and I’ll be damned if anyone hurts him.” He pushed off of the car and stood directly in front of you, attempting to look intimidating, but fell flat. You weren’t scared of anything, especially not Eddie Munson. 

Eddie really didn’t care who Gareth spent his time with, especially not romantically, but you weren’t one of the soft, innocent looking girls that the guy usually went for. Eddie just wanted to make sure that you were good for him. And maybe the way of seeing whether or not that was true was sleeping with you, but that was going to take a lot more effort than usual. But Eddie always liked a challenge. 

Usually, showing a woman just what she was missing after the initial shut down wasn’t a problem. He turned on the charm and was as nice as possible until he got what he wanted. He didn’t know why you wouldn’t just give in. He was sure that he could make you feel much more than Gareth ever could and he’d do it so much better. Gareth was less experienced than him and was seriously lacking in flirting skills so stealing you away would have been a breeze. It wouldn’t be long before you were racing into his arms, telling him that you had been wrong all along. And he couldn’t wait. 

“If anyone’s hurting Gareth, it’s you,” you crossed your arms over your chest. Those words stung Eddie more than they should have, but he wasn’t going to show it. “You just can’t stand the fact that someone prefers him over you. Gareth is sweet and caring and guess what? He’s also much more of a man than you will ever be. So fuck off and go find someone else to screw with because it sure as hell won’t be me.” You pushed him out of the way and got into your car before pulling out of your parking space and heading down the road. 

Eddie watched in shock as you drove away. No one had even spoken to him like that and he’d have been lying if he said that if didn’t make his dick hard. What was wrong with him? He hadn’t always been a pig. Once upon a time, he was actually a nice guy, but then he got just a sliver of fame in the tattoo industry and thought he could treat everyone any way he wanted. He had quickly become the kind of guy that he had usually despised and didn’t even care that his friends were getting tired of him. 

It was like an addiction. He had slept with one person and then another and then another and it was like he couldn’t stop. Now he couldn’t go a couple weeks without having someone between his sheets. It was getting to the point that he didn’t even really enjoy it, but he was so desperate for attention that he’d take home anyone that he could just so he wouldn’t have to sleep by himself and be alone with his thoughts. 

Eddie hung his head and reluctantly headed back inside. Gareth was still at the front desk and Eddie gave him a glare before heading to his office for some much needed alone time. He couldn’t let Gareth know that he had gotten to him. That would have just been embarrassing. Eddie thought that he was better than him in every way and didn’t like that he had gotten the girl for once. He had lost and hated the way the rejection felt. It was like a stab to the heart and he finally knew how his best friend had felt watching him leave with all of those different people. It was torture, but that still didn’t mean that he was just going to let him have you. He still had a point to prove, no matter what it took.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I don't have any headcanons to drop but instead a question.

What do you think Killer is even experimenting on or for? For what purpose? I need ideas 😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

I just need to an excuse to draw Killer in a lab coat so bad

Probably things to do with Determination, strange souls, and of course; codes. He will probably try to find a way to see if any other monster can naturally develop levels of Determination by placing them in scenarios that directly mirror his experiences; aka he will probably torture them psychologically.

He could try to convince them to do something that goes against their beliefs and self concept. If someone deeply values loyalty, he will experiment with what it takes to make them do something to betray whoever or whatever they’re loyal to, or the other way around.

If someone values kindness, he will tempt them into doing or saying unkind things—or anything that makes them believe others are being unkind to them to provoke paranoia. (Drug use? To induce hallucinations and then make them believe certain things are true?)

A lot of this is curiosity, and fulfillment of sadism and power. But a lot of it may be reenactment to either make sense of what happened to him, or to see if it can be replicated, or simply to prove that there’s truly nothing he could’ve done to change anything—like. If even weaker lesser things like the test subjects fell for what he fell for, then it’s proof he was weak before and therefore couldn’t have done anything, but he’s stronger now because he wouldn’t fall for such easy cheap tricks.

The next most obvious may be messing around with fusion, soul fusion. Taking and mixing and matching, seeing what could or couldn’t result from it. And if it’s possible to force a fusion.

Uh. When it comes things like humans, he will definitely try to understand their anatomy—and he will also probably experiment with pain and death. How much can a human or monster body and soul take before death? He might carefully time and measure these things. He will probably come up with various creative methods and ways to kill—what is the easiest, the fastest, the slowest, the most painful.

He will probably take advantage of his Reset, Load and Save here too. Will they be able to recognize that they have died before? Will they feel deju vu? Will they just think they’ve been drugged or gone insane? Will they not notice at all?

He will likely test a lot of these things on himself as well. How much can this body and soul take before it collapses. He might be fascinated to realize that his tolerance for death and pain far exceeds most normal people, and if this remains true while he experiments on other versions of himself as well, perhaps this would only fuel his sense of superiority.

He may mock and criticize victims for crying and being dramatic—either because he’s being an asshole, or because he’s genuinely so far removed from these concepts that it doesn’t get why they’re all screaming and blubbering. They aren’t dead yet, and they’ll be fine by the next Reset.

Or alternatively, he may be curious and fascinated by their reactions—and deliberately do and say things to gain reactions and responses. If he’s experimenting on someone he’s found himself kinda sort liking, such as Color for example, perhaps he’d do the traditionally comforting actions—petting their head, kissing their forehead, gently rubbing or patting limbs while dissecting, praising them, telling them how pretty and beautiful they are bloody/crying/tied down/being good for him/etc, perhaps promising itll be over soon and they’ll feel better soon.

I think it’d be cool if he somehow finds a way to dissect a soul like it’s a heart.

And those are all the ideas I have right now. Im not a scientist person, so everyone feel free to chime in!

{ @toffeebrew }

[sunshine-zenith]

(Different anon) one of ANW's writers talked on twitter about how the crew was thinking of bringing Timmy back in S1 (as the founder of the Galax Institute! neato), and that's a fascinating what-if, but I'm glad that the writers ultimately elected to hold off. I kinda agree with the other anon -- Timmy's doing a good job of haunting the narrative, right now. All the parts of ANW that he's (in)directly impacted fascinate me. And yet... I'd also love to see him again? The writers withholding him while they figure out how/where they want him to show up makes me hopeful that whenever he *does* debut in ANW, it'll be good.

I remember hearing that — it could’ve really worked with the episode, especially with how Crocker was specifically reminded of Timmy because of Hazel’s outfit (if Timmy had been the Galax Institute’s founder, this would’ve gone from a reference to actually pretty neat foreshadowing). Still, I’m glad that they didn’t go that route — I watched an Awestruck Vox video on the topic of Timmy a couple weeks ago and he pointed out that Timmy opening the Galax Institute could easily turn into a Crocker 2.0 situation, which I kinda agree with — I want Cosmo and Wanda to matter to him, and him spending his adult dedication to studying the supernatural is kinda cool, but I don’t want to see him derailed completely due to obsession

The more I think about it, the pickier I realize I am when it comes to adult Timmy lol — I definitely don’t want him to be miserable, otherwise it feels like Cosmo and Wanda’s love and efforts did nothing to help him in the end and the irl decade+ the OG series ran for was a waste; I don’t want to see him be a stick-at-home-in-denial-about-growing-up adult (which is why I avoided the live action movies as a kid, even if I knew he’d get character development); I’m torn on him becoming a fairy — if it happened during the OG series and he spent his life from childhood onward as a fairy, I’d be super down with that, because he’d officially be able to grow up with Cosmo and Wanda and never lose them because they’d be his actual adoptive parents, BUT learning the timeline where he became a fairy in canon is the timeline where he grew up, got in a serious relationship, and then died trying to save his loved ones is a little… why tho??; and overall I love that ANW is generally compliant with Channel Chasers, because seeing Timmy grow up to be a genuinely average, seemingly well adjusted adult with a loving family who, even if he doesn’t remember Cosmo and Wanda, still has positive feeling associated with them — it amazing to see as a kid… until it was revealed that his kids had their own awful babysitter and needed fairies. It was less a the story goes on moment and more a slap in the face, especially as a third grader

That said, I 100% trust the crew working on ANW. They did a great job with references to him in season 1, and if they want to bring him back in a potential season 2, I know they’ll do something wonderful. Plus, ANW has Infinity Train alumni working on it — if there’s any series that mastered balancing bringing character back and knowing when to leave characters behind, it’s that series

[sonicstalker123]

Genshin characters and how they’d make up with you after a fight (repost from my TikTok)

✨They/Them pronouns used. Slight angst to fluff. Probably out of character.✨

Nicknames used: dear, beloved, darling

Inspired to make this by @yumikk101 on TikTok!!

Kaeya Alberich

Kaeya would reach his arm out to you in hopes that he’d get you to stop. He eventually stops you by gently holding your wrist.

“Wait, darling, we need to talk about this, please just—“

You ignore him and yank your hand away, leaving. Kaeya watches you leave, but he eventually cools down and respectfully gives you the space that you need.

Kaeya thinks deeply about your argument for a while and then wonders what he could do to make things right. He gets concerned when you don’t come home for a while, immediately thinking about the ‘what ifs’.

“What if they were hurt? Or worse, what if they got lost somewhere?”

He starts to think about where you could’ve gone and immediately thinks of a place that you always go to if you’ve got a lot on your mind and it’s one of your favorite places in all of Mondstadt. Starsnatch Cliff.

“There’s a chance that they might be at Starsnatch Cliff, it’s a very special place to us both. It’s where I asked them to be my partner. Ah, what a pleasant night that was.”

Kaeya blushes slightly and leaves your shared home, determined to find you and make sure you’re okay. He eventually makes it to Starsnatch Cliff where he spots you, crying softly and tears rolling down your face, watching the sunset.

Once Kaeya spots you, he watches you from a distance and looks like this for a bit, it shatters his heart to see you cry.

He then spots a nearby tree with Sunsettias and uses his sword to cut one down for you and one for him.

Kaeya then walks towards you cautiously and has a playful smirk.

“I had a feeling you’d be here, dear Y/N, since this place is special to us both. Turns out I was right, hm?” He asks.

His voice catches you off guard and you flinch a little bit. You cross your arms, still bitter from your argument.

“Kae?! What the fuck are you doing here? And how in Teyvat did you know I was here?” You ask curiously.

“Beloved, I know this place is your go-to place when things are on your mind. It’s like a safe space for you. May I sit next to you?” Kaeya asks, hoping that you agree to let him sit next to you.

After thinking about it, you nod and Kaeya sits next to you and eventually pulls you into his lap, putting his coat on you.

“Are you alright, Y/N? Are you ready to talk?” He gently asks. You nod.

“That’s excellent to hear, but before we talk about our argument, I’d love to show you something. May I?”

You look at him curiously and before you can say “Sure”, Kaeya uses his cryo vision to create different kinds of snowflakes and is literally like this:

Totally didn’t get inspired from the Kaeya as Elsa memes on HoYoLab, nope

Your eyes sparkle in fascination and then he looks down at you with a proud look in his eyes.

“These snowflakes are beautiful, just like you, love. Here, I got a Sunsettia, just for you.” He places the fruit in your hands, causing you to blush a little.

You and Kaeya both have an open and honest conversation about your fight and you both apologize. He then rests his head on your shoulder, kissing your cheek as you watch the sunset together.

This one might be bad, I tried my best and I’ve never written an x reader in a hot minute and I’ve never done one for Genshin. I hope you like it 😌

[dykedvonte]

I find the line "I have to believe our worst moments don't make us monsters." Fascinating because it comes from Anya, and I feel she really proves it the best.

For obvious reasons most people are in the "Anya did nothing wrong" camp and for good reason but there is a single action that I don't think she did well and it was her suicide. Specifically her method.

Realizing that Anya took Curly's painkillers was horrifying to me. As a Nurse I have no doubt that she'd know how terrible dying from overdose is. She had access to a gun which is well known for having a far more instant and far less painful death. And despite everything falling apart around her, knowing how bad Jimmy was, she still left Curly alive.

I don't think I thought about it much like that at first but the longer this game has sat with me the more horrified I am by the action. Curly is man who has been horribly disabled and is completely unable to help himself and he is very much a human being who does not deserve to be anywhere close to that amount of pain. Those painkillers were one that the few things that could give him any amount of relief and Anya took them.

She could have shot herself and left the painkillers for whoever was left to help Curly. She could've shot Curly and then taken the painkillers. She could've shot them both and quickly put an end to their misery, yet she didn't. Anya had a great amount of her agency stripped away from her, to the point that she didn't deem life to be worth it anymore and ended it, right next to a man who couldn't make that choice for himself even if he wanted to.

It is easily her most horrific choice and yet, she's still an angel.

(Please don't take this as Anya slander, I genuinely love her so much. I just find this to be an incredibly interesting thing)

I do subscribe to the idea that Anya realized that Jimmy was hitting Curly when giving him his medicine but didn’t intervene. I also don’t think her taking the pills from Curly as monstrous mainly because (while she knew he suffered worse with out them) she likely also knew they were basically bandaids on a bullet wound.

I have this sort of belief that that statement can only really apply to Jimmy in the inverse. Like some statements in the games aren’t meant to apply to all characters and not in every context of every action they do. It’s the idea that no one should be responsible for Jimmy’s actions but himself but they are forced to by him or the environment. Everyone is experiencing their worst moments but no one is a monster outside of Jimmy due to his inability to take responsibility and how he escalates the severity of the situation through his bad choices. Even then it’s not one moment that makes Jimmy a monster it’s the culmination of every moment that prove his inability to be anything but in this scenario.

With Anya you must remember she did have the code to the gun. Yeah, she could’ve broken it open but who’s to say how easy or how long it would’ve taken. Not to mention, there’s this misconception that she wanted the gun to kill Jimmy which isn’t true. She wanted the gun to defend herself in the case he got aggressive which is an important note of Anya being the only proactive person on the ship vs reactive. Locking the door, knowing there was no way in was likely a duel mercy for them both. A person in his state would die relatively soon without constant care and she has ample time to pass. It’s a hard decision to make for herself and someone else but it was the easiest even if it caused more damage than it was ever meant to cause.

It’s a sort of parallel to how Curly made choices he thought would help Anya and everyone but ultimately doomed them all further. Jimmy got what he wanted in both scenarios of crashing the ship and wanting Anya gone. What happened on the Tulpar will go down as a tragedy if they are ever found, a mystery if not but certainly not in a way that Jimmy wanted. Anya and the pregnancy are effectively gone but he’s still facing the repercussions for it.

There’s this idea that it’s controversial to say that Anya was anything but perfect and while I don’t think she did anything wrong, she certainly didn’t make the best choice in telling Jimmy but that again was because of the situation and environment she was in. We don’t know why she didn’t wait on Curly after their conversation in the cockpit, we know that was the plan and we know Jimmy finding out through her alone was the catalyst to the crash within like the next hour, yet you can’t really blame her. We don’t know why Jimmy came to medical nor what anyone else was doing. It can be considered her one mistake but then again we can’t blame a reasonable action on someone’s unreasonable response.

I think that’s a big aspect a lot of people look over in the characters actions. Most of them are normal, reasonable, human. But the systematic responses to them and Jimmy’s are unreasonably harsh and punishing.

This has gone off in a tangent from what you originally posed but I genuinely think of what might do happened if that confrontation happened with Curly there and away from the cock pit. I assume it’d happen in medical or even utility, hell, an area away from anything sensitive but what if? If the ability to do something awful wasn’t at Jimmy’s finger tips, if there was more than one voice in Curly’s head during that moment, what would’ve changed?

When I look at Anya I see her as having the best responses to anything happening during the events of the game but the environment, systems against her and even the other crew mates to an extent made it so it would inevitably backfire on them and mostly her hard.

[meowtus]

Project Meridian yap sesh 😭 spoilers (obviously) ahead !!

This was one of those things where I was like “yeah….I had a feeling this could’ve been the ending Project Meridian’s leaning towards,” but I wasn’t expecting the EXTENT of just how little we really know about the real versions of these characters.

A part of me kind of wishes that we did keep the robot-sci-fi thing, and having an android listener was cool but I can understand why the other route was gone. Though I could see how the storyline could’ve been fit into the main storyline—it would get a little complicated. But Project Meridian was a CRAZY ride. Had my brain turning and I was second guessing everything. Like the Marcus Code, the Asset being a test of the waters in the Meridian, THE DREAM ITSELF & THE SEPARATION OF REALITYY ??? 10/10 would like to experience for the first time again.

But I think the distinct moment when magic started getting vaguely involved within Project Meridian now is like—SUPER different contextually than before (when I inevitably go to relisten). Like the real-world experiences with magic within Asset’s memory bleeding into something that should’ve remained a disconnected reality. And Marcus…Mark? Marc??? Lord knows anyway

His character just got like A MILLION times more interesting knowing he’s a dreamwalker. And that he had control over the dream for a while, before things got out of control. Did at what point did he realize that the dream was out of his hands?? URGHH it’s fascinating. Also the loneliness and still seeking it through a person who 1. Does NOT remember jack about doing any of this 2. Genuinely believes they’re a robot and is programmed to like you is SO messed up, and even though he’s lost that grip on the Asset’s dream—he didn’t want to leave or stop the dream from getting to the extent it did. And they FREAKED IT IN THE DREAMM?? Vro. I hope we get more of him later because that’s a crazy bag of worms. He’s a looser…what a guy amirite 😭

But hands down I think the coolest part about all this is James. Well, both James versions, and how the Asset’s views on them distorted him in the dream. James turning out to be some guy™️ working for the department in contrast to the cold, calculated, put-together variant is amazing and I’ll think about it forever.

Peak Cinema…thank you Mr. Redacted for the meal 🙏🏽🙏🏽

[noxiousr0se]

Shared Body AU

Totally decided my little idea from yesterday shall now be titled this. 2/10 for Creativity unfortunately.

Either way, this one’s a bit more self-indulgent, but bear with me if you can.

I’d like to think that Dan Feng is the kind of guy to tease Dan Heng about his friends, so what if we went one step further and had Dan Feng try to get involved in Dan Heng’s love life? Like Dan Feng sees that Dan Heng’s relationship with his lover isn’t going anywhere and is rather dull. When Dan Heng insists there’s nothing there, Dan Feng assumes the poor lad is being bashful and sets out to improve the relationship whenever he’s in control.

Even more amusing to me would be that Dan Feng completely missed the mark. Like turns out that Dan Heng and his “lover” are just really close friends and shit just devolves from there. I’d like to imagine that this person quickly becomes adept at figuring out the difference between Dan Heng and Dan Feng simply to try and avoid Dan Feng’s flirting.

Here’s the vision, as well as a brief introduction to my oc, Amara Esmeray.

‘Here we go again.’ Dan Heng sighed as his best friend once again tried to hit him with a dagger. Well, hit his past self with a dagger. He and Amara had simply been updating the data bank when his other self took over. Within seconds of the shift Amara had gone from looking over his shoulder to standing on the other side of the room glaring.

One would think Dan Feng would take this as a sign to give her space, but her blatant animosity towards the previous high elder was like catnip to him. After realizing that there was nothing going on between the young woman and his reincarnation Dan Feng continued his flirtatious advances simply to watch her reactions.

“Now, now, there’s no need for that sort of violence, my dear I simply asked for a hug.”

“Go hug a cactus.”

“A cactus would be far less prickly than you, wouldn’t it?” Dan Feng smiled. Amara was such an amusing young woman, like a stray cat that refused to be domesticated. Sure, she would accept company and camaraderie, but the moment you attempted to initiate anything more than that she practically turned feral.

“Bring him back.”

“You know as well as I do that it doesn’t work like that.”

“Then stay still and let me hit you.”

“Aren’t you afraid of hurting him? I mean, this is technically his body.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Amara replies unsheathing her second dagger and lunging at him. Dan Feng simply chuckled and proceeded to soak the young woman with powerful torrent of water that sent her flailing into the wall.

‘Leave her be you’ve had your fun.’ Dan Heng sighs, worried Dan Feng was about to antagonize her more than he already had. To his surprise Dan Feng didn’t move, in fact he didn’t even seem to be thinking much, as if he was focused on something.

Dan Feng watched as Amara pushed her now soaked silver hair from her face, and glared at him. It was fascinating really, the way the gunmetal blue in her eyes seemed to overpower the ice green making her stare all the more chilling. He watched as water rolled down her skin, past her collar bone, and disappeared in the valley between her brea—

‘Stop staring at her like that!’ Dan Heng’s sudden shout snapped Dan Feng from his thoughts and made him turn away from the sight before him.

‘I wasn’t staring, I was simply… noting how terrible her reflexes are. She could’ve dodged that attack with proper training.’ Dan Feng replied back. It was a flimsy excuse, he was aware, but he wasn’t going to admit to anything. The woman was entertainment to him. He found her animosity amusing and nothing more. She wasn’t growing on him, he didn’t find himself looking forward to their little spats. Certainly not….

[gilly-moon]

For the ask prompt:

Introducing them to their special interests/hyperfixations

And/or

Pure genuine laughter, because these two would go really well hand in hand I think!

~harley

I only now realized that I don't think I've ever done little one-off drabbles like this before, so it was harder than expected to keep it short! Super fun exercise in little character moments tho ♡

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Jack’s first mistake was mentioning he had only seen a handful of horror movies.

His second was letting Pitch sit him down for a marathon of his favorites.

They’d gone through the trouble of tracking down a local rec center, ensuring it was empty for the night before dragging out the old box TV on its cart and getting comfy on a couch that could’ve been older than the building itself. Pitch brought the movies, and Jack reluctantly brought himself.

He wasn’t a scaredy-cat, or so he’d insisted to Pitch. The few horror movies he’d seen might’ve caught him off guard with a jump scare or two, but he’d never left them scared.

Turns out he’d just been watching the wrong ones.

Really, he should’ve expected it. Why would he ever think that asking the King of Nightmares to show him some horror movies would be a breeze? A little gore, a little suspense, no big deal, right? Instead, he’d found himself halfway into a psychological hellscape of a movie and realized exactly what he’d gotten himself into.

When the credits rolled on the first film, Jack turned to Pitch with wide eyes and asked him flat-out if he’d been doused with Nightmare sand and if - pretty please - he could wake up now. Pitch just grinned evilly and stood up to put the next movie in. But then Jack made some throwaway comment about horror movies being gratuitous fear-fests, and something shifted in Pitch’s expression. Remote still in hand, he stood with his arms crossed and sternly said, “Now listen here, Frost,” before launching into a lecture about the complex and difficult art of instilling fear in an audience.

And the more Pitch talked, the more of Jack’s fear slipped away. So even after Pitch sank back onto the couch to start the movie and fear filled the air again, Jack scooted a little closer and found every opportunity to poke him with questions.

Without fail, Pitch always had an answer. He talked at length about when and where it was most effective to use violence or gore, how best to use a character’s fears against them, or the intent of a scene in creating psychological unease in both the protagonist and the audience. By the time the third film was playing, he began pointing things out unprompted, and had entirely forgotten that his initial intent was seemingly to watch Jack drown in his own fears.

Jack was utterly captivated. He’d never seen Pitch speak so passionately about anything, aside from the occasional rant about the Guardians and Manny. A scene that might’ve had Jack tucking into his sweatshirt and staying there til morning shifted from frightening to fascinating as Pitch broke down piece-by-piece how the film had foreshadowed everything without ever allowing the audience to suspect the horror to come.

Metallic eyes locked on the screen, Pitch didn’t seem to notice that Jack had been watching him instead of the movie by the time the last film was coming to an end. He was too busy rambling about the plot, rising from the couch to retrieve the disc.

“Humans are surprisingly adept at supplying inspiration for their own worst nightmares,” Pitch said, turning just so to make his irises gleam from the blue TV screen. “Though I prefer to think their inspirations are a product of my own meddling while they sleep. Don’t you?”

Jack blinked, considering the films they’d just watched and trying to imagine all their horrors coming directly from Pitch himself. It was a far easier task than he should’ve been comfortable with.

“I almost forgot for a sec there,” he said with a faint laugh, “you’re like…insane, insane. Like, cult leaders and torturers would be begging you for ideas if they could.”

Pitch raised an eyebrow, looking over Jack curiously from where he stood. “And yet you still choose to spend time with me.”

Jack shrugged, crossing his legs underneath him. “Look, I’m the fun Guardian, not the smart Guardian.”

And the laugh that escaped Pitch then made Jack light up like the moon. It was brief, but it was real. Jack could sense it, that pure sound that welled up in the tall shadow of a man and escaped him before it could be stopped. Jack reveled in it, and how rarely he heard that laugh unless it was darkened by cynicism or mischievous intent.

“Well, I appreciate you indulging me,” Pitch said after clearing his throat. He strode back to the couch, looming over Jack as the first beams of dawn began breaking through the curtain. “Though I must admit, I was hoping to taste more of your fears tonight. Shall I leave you with a Nightmare instead to remember me by?”

Jack shot to his knees, startling Pitch just enough for Jack to grip the front of his robe and successfully tug him down into a quick kiss.

“Not a chance in hell, Boogeyman,” he murmured against those scalding lips.

Before Pitch could recover, the winds where whisking Jack out the door, escaping from the shadows with a laugh.

[yanban-san]

You said that demon au boys have pads on their hands? Like, toe beans? :D

They have all sorts of hands, Anon! That said, I usually picture them with monstrous footpads- Emmet has more “regular” hands, whereas Ingo does have pads on his hands- Soft, voidal pools dripping with a shifting absence of light and existence that you can certainly try to touch, but... your hand may phase through it, feeling something best described as... cold, airy water? A hydrophobic liquid, simultaneously drenching you and yet leaving your hand as dry as it was before you touched him. But still, they are pads upon his hands. Call them “toe beans” to Ingo’s face directly. Do it. He hates that you are right- But looking at how you snicker at your own joke- Well, okay. Maybe you can be allowed to call them toe beans.  They feel strange when he holds you- Oobleck-ish? You cannot describe it. You can feel the physical aspects of his hands, but the pads leave a distinct cold feeling- Like a ghost- Against your skin. Emmet’s feet have toe beans- Though they’re much more difficult to see because his feet are bright, and very fluffy.  If you can find them, they’re smooth and silky, not unlike Ingo’s scales. You ponder if you squeeze them hard enough, would Emmet have retractable claws-? “Hmm. Daarling.” He coos, watching your fascination with the pads on his feet- Mostly useless. He has no need to walk anywhere on his feet. “What are you doing?” He asks, tilting his head, body shifting and neck extending to bend over to look at you better. His darling beloved. If you asked to inspect every inch of him, he would have happily obliged until the end of time itself- But this? Why his foot? “Hold on a minute,” You ask, still focused on the toe beans. “Angelic” be damned. He has toe beans. He purrs when you pet him. He’s a cat.  And you grab one bean. And press.  “What are you-” He hisses, and out of the soft, feathery mess of his foot emerges a claw. He looks at it in confusion, as though he were not expecting it to happen. You pause for a second, a smile growing on your face. “PERSIAN!” You loudly declare, pointing at him. His feathery-fur stands on end as your word sinks in. Silence. Every single voice of his has ceased humming, the light from his eyes gone. Moments pass by, every second extending to minutes. “Well, If I am a Persian,” He begins, shifting his entire body around. In an instant, you’re swept off your feet, wrapped in the confines of his tail as he settles his body around you, his head in your lap, eyes shining brightly as he looks up at you. “-Then I should be as much of a nuisance as possible... and lounge in your lap allll day. Like a Persian, of course. Right?”  And as you struggled against the confining binds of your beloved’s unending tail and extraneous claws holding you down, you could’ve sworn his permanent smile grew even bigger.

[thecozykirin]

DWC Day 5 - Mistake

@daily-writing-challenge

“Keep still, Kimiko.” Yasashi hissed lowly at the squirming cub, who whined in protest as he pressed the wet cloth against the slice in her paw. “You should be more careful in here, if I were less diligent with how I keep my tools this could’ve gotten infected.” Kimiko has recently developed a fascination with her father’s work area. The hanging tools and roaring fire of his forge an alluring song that could have quickly turned deadly, had she not fallen off the stool she climbed onto and alerted him.

“You’re old enough to know better.” Yasashi’s heart had jumped into his throat once he found her, sniffling and holding onto her bleeding paw. “What were you thinking?”

Kimiko’s chin tucked against her chest, ears pressed flat against her head as she responded in a low voice. “I’m sorry, baba. I like your forge. It’s warm and smells like you when you’re gone.”

I’m sorry, baba.

Yasashi paused, her words bouncing about his skull and stirring memories to the surface. There were many times he had been in his daughter’s position, and all times his father had reacted with clawed ears, a bamboo stick to the knuckles, and even a swift paw across the face on occasion. Yasashi breathed, blinking the memories away. “You…made a mistake.” A large paw reached out to his daughter’s face, sliding beneath her chin and angling her head upwards so their eyes would meet. “Mistakes are…good, they teach us.” His eye dropped back down to her bloody paw. “Now, you know not to come in here alone anymore, mh?”

Kimiko’s trembling bottom lip had lessened, and she sniffled. “R-right.” With a warm chuff, Yasashi brought his daughter into his arms, giving her a hug. “How about this, you can be in here whenever I’m working, and I can get around to giving you a few tasks to help me.” Kimiko perked up right away upon hearing that. “R-really?”

Yasashi nodded. “Really, I promise.” The delight in her eyes warmed his heart, and Yasashi resumed his work on tending to her little paw.

[tytarax]

Aight imma rant about grape gusher man Zamasu/j

Basically; platonic yan corrupted Zamasu, except he’s so delusional he genuinely believes reader is related by blood to him (more of a long-lost younger sibling thing tho since I doubt he could make up a whole story to legitimize them being his kid).

Zamasu can and will come up with a whole delusion of having a baby sibling that was taken by mortals and wished on the dragon to look human and raised to act like them (none of this is true, but Zamasu won’t listen to reader’s logic because ‘they were too young to remember’ and ‘the mortals just told you that to keep you for themselves!’). The obsession could’ve started out small with unfused Zamasu and Goku Black, and then slowly became more and more broken until it became corrupted Zamasu’s delusion of reader being his biological sibling.

Oh yeah, his personality is also all sorts of messed up too. I’m talking corrupted Zamasu who has fallen off of the end of his rope and has actually gone insane after he won the fight against Trunks, Goku and co. He has destroyed every remnant of the resistance and is now blindly calling (read: screaming) out for his “sibling” to “come out of hiding” because “the human threat is gone and now they are safe” while he searches up and down the rubble remains of the world looking for them (see, I feel like yan Zamasu would be insane, no matter how you spin it, but corrupted Zamasu is that and also somehow even crazier and more delusional).

He could probably regenerate his body over time to no longer be distorted if his immortality still regenerates his body, or he could wish for it by using the time rings to access the dragon balls, but that won’t change a thing about how he acts. He is not calm and collected like regular Fused or unfused Zamasu, and somehow he’s even more unhinged and overprotective than Goku Black ever was (he can and will ensure reader is within his range of sight at all times if he feels like he has to, and might even resort to moving their bed into his room or even forcing them to use his bed platonically just so he knows they are safe). I’d imagine he’d be prone to mood swings, going between his more calm and collected demeanor and his broken and insane one.

Corrupted Zamasu would be more prone to forcing reader into his affection (he gives me hugging reader in the corner of a room energy), and often this more forceful affection would be shown when Zamasu is leaning towards his more broken demeanor (he’d also be the Zamasu most likely to drug reader up to keep them compliant). Zamasu will try and force his delusions upon reader, insisting that they are true and that reader shouldn’t doubt them.

Corrupted Zamasu will get what he wants, even if he has to tear apart the entire world to get it. Poor reader is just so confused and horrified and trying to escape the ruined city before Zamasu can catch them in their game of cat and mouse, and Zamasu won’t ever stop chasing because he wants his ‘younger sibling’ to be by his side for all eternity. There is absolutely nowhere reader can go to escape him, but they won’t know that until they are cornered and there is nowhere else to run.

(lol this one is a bit long, but I enjoyed writing this concept! Originally I was gonna use this idea for unfused Zamasu and Goku Black, but I felt that it worked with corrupted Zamasu better. Poor reader better be very good at evading him, because he probably already wished them immortal so he could ensure they wouldn’t die while he searched for them).

I love the "grape gusher man" nickname for Zamasu

Your take on platonic yandere corrupted Zamasu is so wild, I love it! Him being so delusional that he believes the reader is his long-lost sibling is both creepy and fascinating. I can totally see him coming up with that whole story about the baby sibling being taken and disguised by mortals. His refusal to listen to logic because "they were too young to remember" is peak yandere insanity.