#kind of untrue when you hear that

[theoretical-tactician]

They’ve done it. They’ve made a sequel that I like less than the original all by adding a cool new mechanic.

[nochepsicodelica]

Toji who got really drunk after a misunderstanding you left him to ponder upon one morning when you left for work. You missed a part of your routinely goodbye to him and at first it didn't bother him. He understood that you were running late, but once he started chugging the cold drinks and he sat with the sentiment, he realized it did strike him.

He hated the entire process of getting drunk, hated that drinking was unbearable unless it was chased with sweet kisses from you, but there he was, downing bottle after bottle. He was starting to feel liquid full but even in this intoxicated state he didn't want to put down the bottles. At some point he starting feeling uncomfortable being by himself and didn't want to feel that way anymore, so he called and texted you. Multiple times. You finally picked up after the eighth call.

-Hi, baby! Sorry, I missed your calls. I just left work and i'm heading home.-

-Baby? Who are you calling baby?- He scoffs, a roll of his eyes following.

-You... Toji. It's you. Who else would I be calling baby?-

-Honestly, I...- He laughs, the sound not coming off as one of joy with the next words he speaks. -I didn't think you even loved me enough to give me stupid pet names. I feel very unloved by you and... mhm, just want you to know that.-

Now, that's just entirely untrue and it hurts to hear. You prove your love for him every day. What is this sudden false claim against you?

-Toji, love, what are you saying? I'm coming home, already. Maybe we should talk in person. This is hard to discuss over the phone.-

-Uh-huh, you do that.- He sighs, heavily, his eyes lidding with sluggishness. -Can't win a verbal argument, s-so you're gonna come over here and try to seduce me with your pretty face. I'm just gonna say no when you try to touch me. Just no.-

-I'll see you in a bit, Toji.- you say, before abruptly hanging up.

He sounded off. You knew something was up the second you saw his eight missed calls and a stack of messages just saying 'hey'.

Your keys jingled as you pulled them out of your bag to unlock the front door. The house was steady, no sign of Toji watching TV in the living room or of the shower running. You walked further in, calling his name. It was kind of eery walking through your silent house. You also knew of Toji's tendency of scaring you, so you were on guard for that as you paced around the house. You had one more room to check and it was the bedroom. You dragged your feet over to the room, knocking when you noticed the door was closed. There was no answer after two more knocks so you just opened the door.

The sound startled Toji who was lying against the headboard of the bed, almost falling asleep. The second he saw you his demeanor changed. He perked up like a dog when their owner comes home, before melting back to the stoic state he had been sitting in.

"Hey," you say, almost tentatively, as you walk towards your shared bed, sitting down on the edge. You're met with an acknowledging hum of a response. "What's wrong, baby?"

"There you go calling me baby again. Baby is for people who love each other, so stop it."

You look over the bed, spotting the evidence that led to the bite in his attitude towards you— those bottles that spill the remaining drops of their content and Toji's backwash onto the bed, making the sheets reek of alcohol.

"Well, I love you, so no, i'm not gonna stop calling you baby."

He crosses his arms over his chest, huffing like a child. "That so? It didn't seem that way this morning. I've never felt so forgotten about by you."

"I told you I was gonna be late for work, but you insisted on keeping me trapped beneath you. Bring that part to light, handsome." You can see the corners of his lips twitching. He's holding back the most wicked smirk at the short burst of memories from the morning. "Plus, I still gave you your goodbye kiss, so what are you on about?"

"You didn't say 'I love you'. That's part of goodbye with you, so you can't blame me for feeling this way." His eyes express something of hurt. Maybe it's enhanced by the drinks he had, but you can't leave him that way.

"You're loved, baby. Very much so. Me not saying it this one time doesn't diminish the actual feeling." He's been reduced to a cub over this, so as his lover, you step in to mend the feelings that were grazed.

"Can you..." he rasps, patting his thigh, signaling for you to sit. You drag yourself towards him, and plop yourself onto his lap. You can smell the alcohol on his breath as he rambles on about how you can't forget to say 'I love you' to him ever again, even if it's a blurted, rushed one that he doesn't get a chance to respond to as you rush out the door.

The look he reserves for you is entirely soft, his hands are hot against your clothed back as they feel the warm body he's missed for hours. "I still..." he pauses to sigh, tiredness imbued into the sound. "Still want you to call me baby," he starts again. "I was just bummed. Don't stop calling me baby. Don't ever do that." He's letting his hands roam all over you. Your back, your waist, your hips—everything.

"Are you gonna let me touch you or are you gonna say 'no'?" You grin, remembering his words, verbatim, just incase he tries to tell you he never said them.

"Why aren't you touching me? Why would I not want you to touch me?" He looks insulted by the question and you have half a mind to remind him of what he said to you on the phone, but the heat in his eyes dies out as quickly as it appeared. "Really need a hug, mama. Please, hug," he says, the last part muffled by your chest as he keeps his face buried into it.

You held him tight and murmured 'I love you' countless times, while he hummed in response and groaned quietly as you ran your fingers through his hair.

[blujayonthewing]

IN MY FEELINGS. ABOUT AUBREE.

[moonstruckme]

Oh! Oh! I’m not the anon who asked about Jily x reader but your response made something spark in my brain. So picture a super cosy, soft scene where one of them comes home from a long and draining day of work to one of their loves in the kitchen baking, and then the third comes home with dinner and it’s all just soft and domestic. My heart! I think I can see the Jily x reader appeal

Thank you for requesting lovely! I feel like I'm still getting my sea legs under me with them but so far I'm really enjoying writing for them :)

poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

The front door opens, and you say “Hi,” with a question in your voice, unsure who’s made it home first. 

The answer comes in the quiet scrape of a chair being pulled out. Only one of your partners is given to actually sitting down to take their shoes off, rather than toeing them off and being shocked when the backs get scuffed. “Hi, love,” Lily replies. 

“Hi,” you say again, warmer now. “Hey, could you help me with something when you’re done?” 

“Yeah, with what?” 

“My hair won’t stop getting in my face.” You blow a strand away from your eye. It comes right back. “And my hands have dough on them.”

“Just a second.” You hear the chair being pushed back under your table, the quiet padding of socked feet as your girlfriend comes up behind you. As usual, she’s come prepared, a hair tie already on her wrist. Gentle fingers sweep strands away from your face and draw it all back into a loose ponytail. Lily presses a kiss to your nape once she’s done. 

“Thank you,” you say, and she hums, settling her arms around your waist. “How was your day?” 

Lily sighs and rests her chin on your shoulder. “Long.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, lovely. Anything in particular?” 

“Not really. Just one thing after another, you know.” She toys with the loose knit of your sweater, sticking her finger through a hole. “I’m happy to be home.” 

The fondness that bleeds through you feels warm and sticky. “I’m happy you’re home, too,” you say with a smile.

You feel her lips curve in kind as she kisses your shoulder. “What’re you making?” 

“Cinnamon roll cookies. They’re more complicated than I thought, but I figure even if I mess them up they’ll at least smell nice when they’re baking.” 

“Good thinking. You won’t mess them up, though.” 

You both hear a key being fitted into the lock outside, and Lily calls out, “It’s open!”

“What?” The voice is muffled through the door. The key retracts, the handle twists. “Why is it open?” James asks as he comes inside. “I could be a murderer.” 

“Because I knew you’d be right on my tail,” says Lily, at the same time as you say, “What makes you think someone would want to murder us?” 

“Well, I’d rather you not find out,” James replies. He toes off his shoes and sets a large paper bag on the table. “Especially when I’m not home.” 

“Oh, because surely we need a man to protect us? We could do just as well in a fight whether you were here or not.” 

Looking at your tall, muscled boyfriend, you have to admit privately that this may be factually untrue. By the look Lily gives you as she goes to give him a kiss, she also disagrees with your argument even if she respects it. 

“Let’s just keep the door locked and that way none of us ever have to fight,” James says as she steps into his arms. He smiles. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” Lily pecks him on the lips. “What’s in the bag?” 

“Dinner. I know I was meant to cook tonight, but I decided on the way home to pick up instead.” 

“Oh no,” you say mournfully. “Did you have a bad day, too?” 

“No.” James looks at you, confused. “Who had a bad day?” 

“Lily did.” 

“It wasn’t bad, it was just draining,” your girlfriend qualifies, though this doesn’t stop James from cooing and folding her into a hug. “I’m really fine.” Her voice is muffled against his chest. 

“I must’ve had a sixth sense, then.” James kisses her hair. “I got your favorite.” 

“No, did you really?” You can hear Lily perk up. She doesn’t completely remove herself from his embrace but frees one arm and cranes her neck to look inside the bag. “Thank you, love.” 

“Don’t thank me, thank my telepathy,” he says, letting her go so she can start grabbing forks and napkins for you all to eat with. 

James makes his way over to you, leaning against the counter so he can see your face while you work. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows, his hair fluffy like he’s been running his fingers through it or he rolled down the window on the drive home.

“And how was your day?” he asks you. 

“My day was good.” You grin at him. He returns it with twice the enthusiasm. “I finished my book, and I found this recipe for cinnamon roll cookies.” 

James’ gaze doesn’t dip to where you’re folding the cinnamon mixture into your dough. He nods as he keeps looking at your face, eyes warm. He’s still smiling. 

“What?” 

“Did you know you have a little bit of flour on your cheek?” 

“Oh, why’d you ruin it?” Lily asks, bustling through the kitchen to get you water for dinner. “I wasn’t going to tell her.” 

“What?” You look over your shoulder in betrayal. “Is it a lot? Why wouldn’t you tell me?” 

Lily turns off the tap, giving you a sheepish smile and a lift of her shoulders as she passes by you again. “It’s cute.” 

“It’s very cute,” James agrees. “Want me to get it for you?” 

“Yes.” You roll your eyes at your girlfriend. “Please.” 

James uses his thumb to brush off your cheek, holding your face in his hand while he does. His smile is still firmly in place, soft around the edges with a sweet fondness. He keeps rubbing until you’re sure the flour has to be long gone, until warmth kisses your cheeks and it’s just touching.

“Love you,” you say softly. 

James’ cheeks dimple. “Love you, sweetheart.” 

“Will you turn the tap on for me?” 

He does, and you wash your hands in the sink, leaving the rest of the baking for after dinner. 

“Oh, good.” Lily comes back into the kitchen. “Are you ready to eat? I’m worried it’s going to get cold.” 

“We’re ready,” James answers for you. “Just washing up.” 

“Jamie.” Lily smiles at you as you step away from the sink to let him have his turn. “You didn’t get it all.” 

“I got distracted,” says James. “Anyway, I thought you liked it there.” 

She beckons you closer. “I do, but if you’re going to get it, you may as well finish the job.” She brushes a fingertip over your cheek, pretty eyes crinkling. “There. Perfect.” 

“She’s always perfect.” James dries his hands on a towel. He kisses you when you smile bashfully. 

“The food’s getting cold,” you remind them. 

“Excuses, excuses.” 

[bokuroar]

12:17 — few years later | 🛬❤️‍🩹🎇 iwaizumi h.

“you’ll be there, right? right? right?!”

if it’s anotamically possible to cut your ear off without passing out because of oikawa’s incessant nagging, you would’ve done it the first few seconds he begged you to accept kuroo’s reunion dinner invite before the all-star game. you were seijoh’s babysitter manager after all so, according to kuroo, it’s just right you’re there, in which you only replied with a i’ll think about it.

“haji’s gonna be there.” oikawa says in his annoying singsong voice and you swear you could hear his smirk right through your phone.

you bite your lip as if oikawa could see you blushing and smiling through the call. after years of graduating from high school, you wouldn’t have thought just hearing his name will elicit the same effect on you.

“and?” you reply nonchalantly because you would rather crawl under the earth and bury yourself alive than let oikawa confirm your cutesy, little high school crush on iwaizumi never really went away.

oikawa being your best friend saw through your reply and snorted, “pft, if i know you’ve been looking at his instagram every night before you sleep just because you’re too much of a scaredy cat to hit him up. don’t act as if you don’t zoom in on his shirtless pi—“

“oh my god, fine! i’ll go to this freaking dinner so please for the love god shut the hell up! ” you exasperatedly sigh wanting to tolerate oikawa’s teasing no longer not because it’s untrue but because you felt like you were caught committing a crime. it’s a curse and a gift you have a best friend that knows everything about you.

you hear oikawa shriek through your phone in celebration and about being there at 6, so you mutter a good bye before he lays out a plan that involves dragging you wherever into the night.

as if on cue, your phone lights up with a notification from your old group chat when the call ended,

✉️ t. oikawa: see you all on saturday!!!! no backsies!!!!!! :p

you roll your eyes knowing he’s talking about you. you were about to hit send on a message something about being him still being an annoying ass when another bubble popped in your screen that made you rewrite everything you were about to say.

✉️ h. iwaizumi: im back too 🇯🇵 see you guys :)

✉️ you: i’ll be there ☺️

come saturday, you’re standing in front of the restaurant which every nook and cranny you’re familiar with as this was a popular go-to after-school-dinner-place during your younger years with the team. you try your best not to look frantic while you check your phone at least every 10 seconds to tell oikawa “wru >:(”

you were about to hit the call button when you hear somebody clear their throat. as a reaction, you step away from where you were standing thinking you were probably blocking the entryway.

“sorry i was just w— oh. haji?” you take these few seconds to take him in—the way his shirt hugged his biceps, the watch that also somehow added to his attractiveness, his skin that’s more tanned, his freshly cut hair, and his smile. god, that smile. so many things have changed about him since he last visited home but his kind, subtly giddy smile still reached his eyes.

“been awhile, hasn’t it?” iwaizumi sheepishly say and you hold back a gasp when he scratches the back of his head that flexed his arm.

“it’s been.. yeah? yeah, it has. i mean. yes..” you nervously laugh, mentally kicking yourself for tripping over your words.

you feel your cheeks redden, not from the cold air of the darkening day but because of the manly, handsome laugh that bubbles from iwa’s chest. “watcha doin’ out here, though? waiting for a someone or..” he drags his sentence hoping you don’t hear his silent prayer that you are romantically available.

you snort before you could even think about it, “no, c’mon it’s not like that.” you laugh and went on to tell the tale of oikawa begging you to come, “i’m waiting for that idiot tooru who went several measures to make sure i’m here.”

“you two were thick as thieves, weren’t ya? i’m glad you stayed in touch even if that shithead went abroad.” iwaizumi smiles and you can’t resist staring at how he threw his head back when he laughed at oikawa’s typical antics.

“wish we did too, y’know. i missed ya.” iwaizumi suddenly confesses, “i just found myself wanting to talk to you when i was out there.”

to say your heart felt like it dropped on your feet was an understatement. it’s like everything froze—the leaves halted midair, the world went silent and the only sound you could hear was the loud thump of your heart. all what you manage to let out is, “o-oh? you did? really?”

iwaizumi looks at you like you just asked the most ridiculous question, “‘course i did. we talked every day then! remember how i used to walk you home after our trainings then stop by that dang old ramen place that was there since forever? missed hanging ‘round with you and the team ‘tis all.”

you smile as you look at the ground, shyly but fondly recollecting all the simple but sweetest moments with iwaizumi you cherish so much. with his sudden reminiscing, you recall the sort-of debate you had with him because he kept on insisting he should always walk you home.

“r-right. the team. yeah, i missed them too.” you say as you shake your head along with the thought of having a chance of romance with your longtime friend.

“we should go inside. fuck that tardy tooru i think a lot’s of them here.” you casually laugh and walk towards the door until you felt a hand on your wrist.

iwaizumi shoots you a grin, “what do you say the two of us go grab that ramen? for old time’s sake?”

a/n: so .. uh … im back ! hope everyone’s still here 😅🫣 anw this was supposed to be just a drabble but i got a lil carried away & im alr thinking of writing a pt 2 .. wdyt hehe

[aniqua]

error: v1r2ous | yandere!qimir x reader

✧content: 18+ mdni, y/n not used, everything that comes with yandere tendencies, a prequel to [f13nd] that can stand on its own

✧anon says: "im super curious to perhaps see flashbacks of reader and qimirs relationship before their death but whatever u choose to do w the plot im sure itll be great!!!💓"

✧note: anonie, my self-control is laughable. this originally was a couple of bullet points until it wasn't. I even foreshadowed it when I said, "I keep pretty much be convinced of a lot of things if it's in the form feedback."

✧word count: 1.4K

✧series masterlist

Qimir and you originally met when you entered his shop to buy something for an illness you were experiencing.

From his perspective, a pretty customer--wide-eyed, slightly frazzled, but sincere--comes in walking in like a blown-in dandelion, and his brain halts at a blank. All of his senses were taking you in except for sound. He was picking up on your scent, taking in your appearance, trying to taste your fragrance like a madman, all the while he couldn’t hear a thing coming out of your rosy lips.

There are no quippy jokes, clever back and forths, or sarcastic upselling. He just saw someone with shining eyes and an unintentional constant pout to their lips as they explained their problem and he was just staring.

Through what he heard when he finally checked back in, you chose to entrust him with your health because of what you heard through grapevines and gossip which led him to take on a deep sense of responsibility to get what he was making down to the right gram.

From your perspective, you didn’t expect the apothecary to be so breathtaking. You expected to meet the face of an age-old man who you’d have to convince to take your symptoms seriously. So when you had materialized at the first jingle of the door and you saw Qimir look up, you’d almost waited for his master to come walking out of a room. Even as you spoke, you sort of hoped it would still happen since his sharp features but kind eyes were too overwhelming for your sensitive self to stomach. If he was to be your saving grace, you feared that your timidness to his aura would have you killed before a progression in your condition did.

Through nervous small talk from you and shaking hands that only Qimir could feel, he works on something as you watch with a look that could only have him describe you as a rabbit. In the end, he fervently insists that you return for weekly refills since swore he could only make so much with the supplies that he had. This was untrue. But you were so dazzled by the way parts of his warm hand ghosted yours when he passed the medication that you didn’t even think twice about it.

By a few months, you both had established an unspoken comfort that resided between each of your meetings. 

You were expected to call ahead so that Qimir could ensure it was just him and you in the shop. Your appreciation for the gesture made you believe that he was entirely selfless but let Qimir tell it and it would be the most selfish thing he did once a week. The days would meander as he spent time forgetting faces until he’d get a call in which in that moment, the time ran like a jackrabbit. 

There was a night when you called so late that the sun had already set and he was already in bed. He picked it up without a second thought and felt his spine turn into water when he heard you on the other end profusely apologizing. The name of the game was reassurance and patience as he tried to keep you talking. He so effortlessly did it that you would almost believe him when he said he didn’t mind the call if you didn’t feel immense guilt.

Qimir spent the time listening to you ramble about the series of unfortunate events that had led you to break your medicine vials and lose your travel ticket. The way your weak voice spoke and the shaking in your cadence made it clear to anyone who cared--so Qimir--that you had just been crying. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” you heard from the other end. He waited for you to come down from your panic while twistedly picturing how beautiful you must have looked when you cried. Red eyes, clinging lashes, and swollen lips flashed across his mind just for him to say “I know a guy who can get you a much sooner ticket and when you come here tomorrow I’ll make you more. Free of charge. How does that sound?”

Another good amount of back and forth was spent with you refusing his generosity until his persistent rejection of your rejection caved you. Sure, you felt unworthy of the offer but you also were terrible at resisting the way he sounded over the phone. 

It was in that moment that Qimir determined to make you his permanent problem. From his perspective, he couldn’t stay just your good friend, but he wanted you to see him as the lighthouse that you were a permanent resident of. He was transfixed on the image of you and him together.

Did Qimir actually know a guy? No, but he wasn’t going to find a guy since he knew how to be both hell and high water.

On another one of your later visits, you made some remarks about your uncomfortable trip to his store as his hair curtain his face while he worked. 

Qimir saw this as a rare window of opportunity to take advantage of the trust between the both of you.

“You know, long trips are taxing on the body,” he said as he was dicing a specific plant.

“How else do you expect me to get here?” you teased as you layed your head on the counter and watched him so focused. It was when you liked watching him most. 

This was now routine for the both of you. You would pretend like you weren’t watching the way his biceps flexed and his brows knitted together when he was focused. All the while, Qimir was trying to use every bit of his self-control not to drown in your fresh scent and the warmth that came from your close body. If he didn’t use every bit of the discipline he was taught, he would have devoured once for every time he looked up to find you desperately trying to look anywhere else out of shyness.

“You’d walk here if you just lived in the city,” he told you while peeking through his lashes.

You sighed as you waited for another lecture from him that he practically had memorized but it never came which surprised you. He was playing offensive this time.

“The city is expensive,” you said.

“Hm” he quirked a brow in acknowledgment as he kept dicing. Although he was calculating, he loved the way your voice sounded when you were passionate.

“And who knows if I’ll find somewhere to live on such short notice.”

“So stay here.” he dropped so casually as he went to grab something off of a high shelf.

“Huh?” That was new.

Qimir didn’t say anything until he came back. He made his way back to the counter and leaned over it. You felt so scattered as you watched his striking features get closer as you swallowed. He was intentionally playing dirty.

“Stay here and you can work in the shop in exchange.” When he shrug so nonchalantly, strands of his hair framed his face so well.

“Qi-Qimir,” you manage to get out. “You don’t want me here,” you joked trying to get out of his intense soul-eating eyes. However, he took your hands as you tried to lean back into the chair you were sitting in.

“What makes you say that?” You almost lost your breath at the way he lifted his brow.

“You really want to become roommates with a customer?” you said only half teasing.

The way his expression shifted like a cloud had gone over him. You wondered if you had said something wrong. With his thumb, he made circles in your hands as he straightened out the fabric of your shirt. He was still silent as you held your breath until he said, “Did you really think I’d empty out a store on a weekly basis for just some customer?” His voice was steady as he practically loomed over you from across the table.

You had no response to his words but you were getting hot in the face.

“I don’t even answer Osha’s calls in the middle night,” he laughed. The way that he went back to his light demeanor and the smile that eclipsed his eyes gave you enough whiplash to say stupidly vomit “alright” without any clue as to what you were signing up for.

leave a comment, send an ask, or reblog. i might write a whole fic because of it or maybe send a meme, but I always respond.

[goodnightmemes]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ Duty is sacrifice. It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honor must pay its price.

❛ War is coming, to the whole of the realm.❜

❛ I am indebted to you. ❜

❛ I'm afraid. ❜

❛ We should've just killed her when we had the chance. ❜

❛ When the king speaks, Your Grace, all hear it. ❜

❛ I find myself wondering...do we pursue the same end? ❜

❛ You must accept that the path to victory now is one of violence. ❜

❛ Did you think I would wither in your absence? ❜

❛ You only blame me because your true enemies are out of reach. ❜

❛ She holds love for our enemy. That makes her a fool. ❜

❛ I promise you, you will have all the vengeance that you seek, but you must keep a grip on your impulses. ❜

❛ Do anything but what I ask, and I'll bleed the whole lot of ya. ❜

❛ The gods punish us. They punish me. ❜

❛ This is not the time for blind accusations. We'll know who did this soon enough. ❜

❛ I will not be seen as weak. ❜

❛ Sometimes, we have to pretend. ❜

❛ I cannot trust you. I've never trusted you, wholly, much though I wished to, willed myself to. But now I have seen that your heart belongs only to you. ❜

❛ You think me some kind of monster. ❜

❛ You're pathetic. ❜

❛ We can afford no further mistakes. ❜

❛ You are mad. Mad! You cannot think that I did this! ❜

❛ You would send me to my death. ❜

❛ I would remind you only that when princes lose their temper, it is often others who suffer. ❜

❛ I see all your great adventures have done nothing for your looks. ❜

❛ For too long, I made it my aim to be of consequence. But now, I see that was the wish of a child. ❜

❛ I wish to spill blood, not ink! ❜

❛ Instead of judgment, you display impetuousness, and diminish us in the eyes of our enemy! ❜

❛ Fuck dignity! I want revenge. ❜

❛ They wish now not for the good of the realm, but for the petty satisfaction of vengeance. ❜

❛ Soon they will not even remember what it was that began the war in the first place. ❜

❛ There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin. ❜

❛ I'm as fearsome as any of them. ❜

❛ You showed me grace when you could have withheld it. I'm not often surprised. ❜

❛ I cannot promise to make you happy. But I ask you: make this sacrifice willingly, for all of us. ❜

❛ If you've not yet surmised, you are welcome here. ❜

❛ Sin begets sin begets sin. ❜

❛ If dragons begin fighting dragons, we invite our own destruction. ❜

❛ Do not coddle me. Grant me at least that dignity. ❜

❛ Sadness is a condition of motherhood. ❜

❛ You have as much claim to grief as anyone. ❜

❛ Tales take on a life of their own, like weeds. Unless they are tended. ❜

❛ Always coming and going, aren't you? And I have to clean up afterwards. ❜

❛ You will die in this place. ❜

❛ I have been, at times, unkind, but never untrue. ❜

❛ You must go before you are discovered. ❜

❛ Your mother must've been very beautiful. ❜

❛ You should've burned them when you had the chance. ❜

❛ Is there no honor left in this world? ❜

❛ This is a better death than a traitor deserves. You should thank me for it. ❜

❛ I will not be made to look a fool in front of my allies and enemies. ❜

❛ I believe it is a sin to deny your appetites. They are what make us fully alive as mortal men. ❜

❛ If I may be so bold, you have not seemed yourself of late. ❜

❛ I've barely had the hours to grieve one tragedy before suffering the next. ❜

❛ I've come to know the face of tortured rest well enough. ❜

❛ Do you think simply wearing the crown imbues you with wisdom? ❜

❛ You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne. ❜

❛ What would you have me do? ❜

❛ Do simply what is needed of you: nothing. ❜

❛ Where have you been, these last days? You vanished without so much as a word.❜

❛ There are those who have mistaken my caution for weakness. Let that be their undoing. ❜

❛ If you die, all is lost. ❜

❛ The horrors I have just loosed cannot be for a crown alone. ❜

❛ Do you take issue with me? ❜

❛ I can sit still no longer. I must act. ❜

❛ I did not think they would be so eager to die. ❜

❛ I need them alive. I came here to raise swords, not corpses. ❜

❛ Will you goad me? When your bread and shelter now depend on my pleasure? ❜

❛ I mislike feeling powerless. ❜

❛ I do not know my part. The path I walk has never been trod. ❜

❛ What you cannot do, let others do for you. ❜

❛ There is more than one way to fight a war. ❜

❛ I do not wish to stand alone. ❜

❛ Has your loyalty faded? Or does it flourish only at night and flee the sunrise like a moth? ❜

❛ What we must do now is... terrible. ❜

❛ This is not war. These are crimes against the innocent, that any upright man would repudiate. ❜

❛ And once again, in the name of power, it's the weak and the women who must endure. ❜

❛ Was it worth the price? ❜

❛ I caution you, boldness is one thing, but overconfidence… ❜

❛ You have the impetuousness of youth, and its arrogance, neither of which is to be desired in a king. ❜

❛ Have the indignities of your childhood not yet sufficiently been avenged? ❜

❛ To claim a dragon, you must also be prepared to die. ❜

❛ You can't possibly still be angry about this. ❜

❛ You weren't going to bid me farewell? ❜

❛ It is your way, is it not? When something does not please you, you run. ❜

❛ There are older things in this world than you or I, or living memory. ❜

❛ You are not the player, but a piece on the board. As am I, for that matter. ❜

❛ It is my fault, I think, that you have forgotten to fear me. ❜

❛ It was worth the risk, no matter the outcome. ❜

❛ The enemy without may be fought with swords. The enemy within is more insidious. ❜

❛ Do you take me for a fool? ❜

❛ Oh, you make an art of provoking me. ❜

❛ Stop wasting your life waiting for something that'll never come. ❜

❛ I'm sure you did your best. ❜

❛ They will underestimate you, and this will be your advantage. ❜

❛ If the gods call me to greater things, who am I to refuse them? ❜

❛ Nothing is clean here. ❜

❛ The order of things has changed. Why not embrace it? ❜

❛ It does seem to me that you've made rather a mess here. ❜

❛ I don't need their love. I need their swords. ❜

❛ Mind your tongue. ❜

❛ I mislike all of this. ❜

❛ It seems you need us more than we need you. ❜

❛ So, what was the fucking point in all this then? ❜

❛ It's best to live, I think. However you do it. ❜

❛ You are not alone. ❜

❛ Will you prepare to face such an enemy? Or will you stay here and make yourself easy? ❜

❛ If you hinder our efforts through sloth or unreadiness, I will see you hanged, and your body fed to the dogs in the street. ❜

❛ You've arrived just in time to see my new army. What do you think of it? ❜

❛ This place will have you barking at the moon. ❜

❛ We must all make our sacrifices. ❜

❛ 'Tis no longer our rule that is threatened, our very lives. ❜

❛ Perhaps all men are corrupt and true honor is a mist that melts in the morning. ❜

❛ The dragons dance, and men are like dust under their feet. ❜

❛ We march now toward our annihilation. ❜

❛ There will be time enough to see which one of us is a coward. ❜

❛ There are omens here for those who seek them. ❜

❛ It's all a story and you are but one part in it. You know your part. ❜

❛ I am meant to serve you, and all of these with me, until death or the end of our story. ❜

❛ Be strong. You know you are just. ❜

❛ History will paint you a villain. ❜

❛ I am at last myself, with no ambition greater than to walk where I please and to breathe the open air. To die unremarked and unnoticed and be free. ❜

❛ You speak as if from a distant dream. ❜

❛ Come with me. ❜

❛ My part is here, whether I will or no. It was decided for me long ago. ❜

[munsonsmixtapes]

hurt/comfort with benedict maybe? maybe reader sees benedict dancing with another girl and notices how happy he looked (him of course just being polite) and she ends up walking away overthinking their entire courtship.

Absolutely! I'm currently reading Benedict's book in the Bridgerton series and am feeling my hyperfixation over him making a comeback lol

cw: hurt/comfort, jealousy

The Danbury household was filled with people who were dancing, laughing, and just generally having a good time. You found yourself with Benedict over by one of the windows and the two of you were giggling about something.

You had been courting since the beginning of the season and had been nothing but happy throughout it, your parents and Lady Bridgerton were thrilled when you made the announcement. In fact, both of your families had been elated when the news broke.

It wasn't surprising considering that the two of you had been inseparable since your meeting all those years ago and everyone had been waiting to see if you would actually get together.

You sipped on your lemonade and watched Benedict stare down at your with that grin that was reserved for you. With him, you felt like the luckiest woman since you had managed to snag the most sought after man in Mayfair and he was just as into you aas you were into you.

Your entire life, you had developed feelings for many boys, but they all seemed to pay you no mind. But the second you crossed paths with Benedict, you knew that it would be different. You were the one who fell first, but he definitely fell harder.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?" He asked, resisting the urge to bring his hand up to your cheek. He didn't care if people saw but what he care about what them whispering about you. Rumors had spread about him, but he'd be damned if anyone said anything untrue about you. So he settled for linking his pinky with yours where no one could see.

"I'm just thinking about how lucky I am to have you," you told him with a smile.

"I'm the lucky one, darling, you know that," he smiled back.

"Why can't we both be lucky?" You asked and he nodded in agreement.

"I suppose you're right," he agreed, loving to see the bright smile on your face widen. He was so in love with you that he didn't know what to do with himself.

"I'm going to get some lemonade, would you like some?"

"I'd love some, but let me get it my love." That was the gentlemanly thing to do and he didn't want you to have to do it when he was perfectly capable.

"You always do it, let me this time." Before Benedict could protest, though, you were already heading towards the table. And he watched you, admiring how politely you spoke to the others that were standing around the table. You were so sweet and it always warmed his heart watching you interact with other people.

You spoke with Lady Danbury who was also by the table and she always seemed to have a lot to say and you didn't want to be rude so you just nodded and listened, only giving input when it was necessary. You wanted to get back to Benedict, not wanting to keep him waiting, but you simply couldn't just leave Lady Danbury in the middle of a conversation. That wasn't the kind of person you were.

"So how is it going with the Bridgerton boy?" She asked and that got your attention. You found any excuse to talk about him, just waiting for him to be brought up so you could gush about how lovely he was.

"He's good. We're happy." She couldn't help but notice the bright smile on your face, so happy that the two of you had finally gotten together.

"Oh, that is lovely to hear," her face lit up. "I have been waiting for this moment for a long time, but Ms. l/n, is that not Mr, Bridgerton dancing with Miss Ashbrook?"

You turned your head, and sure enough, Benedict was dancing with another woman. And she was beautiful and he was smiling. You couldn't watch for long because the whole thing made your stomach churn, a true stab to the back. Especially because they were engaging in your favorite dance.

"My, you are looking green," Lady Danbury pointed out. "Are you alright?"

You ignored her question and turned back to the dance floor, watching the man who you were courting dancing with another woman, twirling her around the room as if you had ceased to exist. You had to get out of there and fast.

"I'm fine, thank you, Lady Danbury," you curtsied before rushing towards the door, out into the garden.

Benedict continued to dance with Miss Ashbrook, completely unaware that you had fled at all. As far as he was concerned, you had still been talking to Lady Danbury. But when he turned in that direction, the woman had been alone. He frantically searched the entire room for you, not seeing your bright blue dress as all. Where could you have possibly gone?

"Tell me more about your lady," Miss Ashbrook spoke with a bright smile. "She sounds lovely."

The only reason why Benedict had been dancing with her was to be polite. And he had been gushing about you the whole time because he didn't want her to think that he was unattached. And she seemed to already know that, only asking him to dance because he was the closest and she didn't want a certain man to ask. It was just a favor and nothing else.

"My apologies, but I must go, Miss Ashbrook, but it was lovely to meet you and I'm sure that there's a suitor out there for you. Don't settle for less than what you deserve." He bowed as soon as the song was over and didn't even stay to hear her response because he was rushing over to Lady Danbury.

He slid across the floor, almost crashing into the refreshment table, but that was the least of his worries. He really needed to find you before you had gotten to far. He needed to know why you had left.

"Mr, Bridgerton, do be careful," Lady Danbury scolded and he was quick to bow before her, certainly not wanting to upset the host of the evening, especially not by breaking her table nor dishes.

"My apologies, Lady Danbury, but do you know where I could find Miss l/n?"

"She went to the garden," she responded then waved her hand, signaling that he should come closer so he bent down so that the two of them were eye level. "That is one of the most lovely women I have ever met and you should know better than anyone that she is beloved by everyone here so I suggest you not screw it up by dancing with women who you are not courting. Are we understood?"

"We are," Benedict nodded then raced towards the garden, searching every nook and cranny for you. His heart pounded in his chest as he realized that you were truly gone, that awful pit in his stomach forming.

But then he heard a loud scream that pit growing even larger as he hurried to where the sound had come from, another blood curdling scream tearing throughout the garden. Benedict ran as fast as he legs could carry him, feeling his chest tighten and his throat burn as his breathing picked up.

He got to where the noise had been coming from and felt a hoarse gasp leave his throat as he saw you on the grass, clutching your ankle with tears streaming down your cheeks. He rushed to you, crouching to sit on his knees in front of you, reaching for your hands, but you pulled them out of his grasp, looking at him as you hadn't wanted him to be there.

"What happened? Why did you leave?" There was hurt in his tone, but he was mostly just worried about you. And he hated seeing you in pain, both physically and emotionally.

"Oh, don't worry about me, Benedict," you snapped. "Perhaps you should just go back to Miss Ashbrook."

"Miss-darling, what on earth are you talk about?"

"I saw you dancing with her, Benedict. And you were smiling. It was almost like you forgot that were courting."

"Oh," he let out a chuckle that quickly turned into a fully belly laugh. How could you have possibly thought that he had been interested in anyone besides you? You had his whole entire heart and he wasn't going to give that to just anyone. It only beat for you so he supposed that you were the only one worthy of having it.

"I'm glad you think my pain is so funny," you reached up and swatted at his shoulder, but he was quick to grab your hand and press a kiss to your knuckles.

"My love, I was only dancing with her because she didn't want to dance with man who was going to ask her. And I was smiling because I was telling her about you." Your eyes widened and now you just felt like an idiot. Of course he would do something like that, because he was always trying his best to be polite. You couldn't believe you had let your insecurity get the best of you and almost ruined the best (only) romantic relationship you ever had.

"Benedict, I'm so sorry. I feel so stupid, I-"

"No," Benedict cut you off, his tone nothing but gentle as his hands cupped your cheeks, wiping your tears from your cheeks. "You're not stupid and have every right to be angry with me. I'm so sorry that I upset you and I hope you forgive me."

"Of course I do," you nodded, tears continuing to stream down your face that Benedict just wiped away.

"Good, because I have something for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring box, a gasp falling from your lips as he opened, a beautiful, glittering ring nestled inside. "Marry me?" He asked and you leapt into his arms, tackling him to the ground, your injured ankle completely forgotten.

Benedict was flat on the grass as you fell on top of him, your lips crashing to his, multiple yeses coming out of your both between each kiss. You pulled away long enough for him to put the ring on your finger and then you were back at it, lips slotted together as you both lied there in the garden, soaking up your alone time together before you went inside to make the announcement to everyone.

[ch0k3herwithaseaview]

@jegulus-microfic | june 1 pride | words: 896

“Have you heard that Amelia ran into Regulus Black and Dorcas Meadows on the Astronomy Tower last night?”

“What? Is he cheating on Pandora then?”

“He’s with Pandora? I swear I saw him snogging Lily Evans in the library the other day.”

“Bullshit, she’s muggleborn; his parents would kill him if they found out!”

“Yeah, but he’s still Sirius’ brother, so he’s probably just as rebellious as him.”

Such conversations were everything Regulus could hear lately, as if his dating life were any of other people's business. He knew it was all made up, and he ignored them, even if they became louder and louder every day.

It wouldn’t bother him that much if he was a casanova who craved such rumours about himself. But he was not a casanova; he didn’t even care about women in that way; he much rather preferred men.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? If he said it to anyone besides his friends, he would be eaten alive—first by his classmates, then by his family. Even if the wizarding world didn’t care about who was sleeping with whom, Regulus was still one of the heirs to The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black—of course, his coming out as gay would become the biggest scandal of the century.

All of this to say, he kept his mouth shut and let people talk shit about his love life so his everyday life was safe.

“You know,” James said one night, when they laid on Regulus’ bed cuddling. “If they’re bothering you, we could start some nasty rumour, like that you have chlamydia.” The younger boy chuckled at that.

“I think I’ll pass; I prefer them talking about me like I’m some kind of slag,” he replied softly, brushing hair from James’ forehead.

Regulus felt good and safe while with James. He wished he could feel like that all the time, but only the thought of holding his boyfriend’s hand in the corridor full of people made his guts turn.

So, he made peace with people talking about him. It might’ve been irritating, stupid, and untrue, but he preferred it over whatever would come after those people found out about his actual relationship.

It went on for most of his fifth year—in the daylight he would be presumed fuck boy who had every girl at Hogwarts in his bed; at night he became a little twink in love with the Gryffindor’s Golden Boy.

One day in June, during dinner, some older Slytherin girl waved at him to come to her.

“Go on, Reggie! I wonder what she would want from you,” Barty snickered, pushing Regulus in the girl’s direction. The funniest thing was that Barty knew about Regulus and James' relationship, but he still liked to put the younger boy in situations like this that only fueled the rumours.

He strode off, stopping when he reached her.

“Hello,” he said coldly, “can I help you with anything?”

“Hi, yes, actually,” she answered excitedly. “So, we were wondering which of Meadows, Rosier, and Evans you’re dating. Would you be a darling and clarify it for us?” She finished her question, obnoxiously batting her eyelashes. He didn’t even know her; why would he even want to clarify anything to her?

His eyes went to the other side of the room, spotting that lovely smile of his boyfriend’s. He wished he could point at James and say, ‘That one, I’m dating that one’. Oh, how he wished he could just—

A quiet voice in his head whispered, ‘The only one stopping you is yourself; just go’. He considered it for a second.

Ah, fuck it.

Regulus cleared his throat and looked at the girl with a mean smile. “Yes, actually, I could clarify it for you,” and with that, he turned on his heel and walked away in the direction of the Gryffindor’s tabel.

He could hear his heart pounding, feel his hand shaking a little, and his face turning red more and more with every step, but he wasn’t a coward; he wasn’t backing down now. When James turned his head in Regulus’ direction, his face went pale, like he was seeing a ghost. But Regulus still wasn’t backing down.

In no time, he reached the older boy and, without thinking, pulled him by the neck to kiss him thoroughly. And when their lips collided, it was like nothing else mattered. Even when James needed a second to register what was happening and relax, it was the best thing Regulus had ever felt. And when his boyfriend’s hand touched his cheek and the other one grabbed his thigh, the world around them collapsed, and there were only the two of them.

After another minute (or hour, who knows), they pulled away to get some air, and that’s when Regulus noticed it—James eyes were sparkling with so much love and pride that Regulus could only giggle like a lovesick eleven-year-old. In return, James chuckled softly, caressing the other’s cheek gently.

And then it got to Regulus what he just did. At first, he felt like he might be sick, but a second later, that quiet voice from earlier said, ‘Fuck it, you’re free now’.

And on that note, he looked up at the girl on the other side of the room and shouted, “Is it clear enough now?”

[watchmegetobsessed]

DECODE

A/N: okay wow, it's actually here, but let me say a ew things first: i am no it proessional so there are some made up stuff so don't come after me if there are untrue things in the story lmao. also, the ending... im not entirely in peace with it, but i've been sitting on this story for way too long so i just bit my tongue and finised it. don't come after me if you don't like it... but anyway! hope it didn't turn out as bad and you'll enjoy the story!

WORD COUNT: 13.7k

SUMMARY: You're up for the promotion you've always dreamt about, but right when you need to prove everything goes downhill. Lucky for you the cute, quiet IT guy, Harry, is there to help you out.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

There’s that feeling when you wake all by yourself, a moment of peace takes over you for not starting the day off with your one true enemy, the alarm, but then panic instantly stabs you in the chest when you realize it’s a weekday and there’s absolutely no way you just woke up before your alarm, feeling this rested. 

Your eyes pop open and you sit up in a frenzy looking around in the room, figuring out what happened and what should be done now. First you check the time on your phone and when you see that it reads 8:32 you almost start crying, but there’s no time for that, so you jump out of bed and sprint into the bathroom, stopping on the way when you spot Eric in the hallway, fully dressed, ready to leave.

“Eric?! Why didn’t you wake me up?!” you snap at him. He turns to you with innocence all over his face.

“I thought you were off today,” he simply says.

“Off?! We have the board meeting today, how could I be off!” you practically scream as you rush into the bathroom to get ready in less than two minutes hopefully.

“I’m sorry!” he calls out from outside. “I’ll see you in the office!”

And the next thing you hear is the front door opening and closing.

“Motherfu…” you mumble as you start washing your face like a crazy woman.

You leave in ten minutes, but you’re fifteen minutes late already, no matter how magically fast you got ready. You don’t have time to get a bagel for breakfast and you’re already halfway into the office when you realize you left your lunch at home too. You somehow shorten the route and win a few minutes on your way in, but you still arrive ten minutes late, looking like a hot mess, completely out of control as you make your way to the twentieth floor to your desk, pretending you haven’t just had the absolute worst morning of your life. 

The elevator almost closes right in front of you, but before you could smash against the sliding doors a hand sticks out and stops it, letting you slip in last minute.

“Ah, thank you,” you breathe out, your purse sliding off your shoulder and your folder almost falls from your hands.

“N-No problem,” a sweet and smooth voice answers, but your hair is such a mess, it covers your vision and you don’t see the kind man that saved you a few minutes with his move. The moment the elevator arrives to your floor you jump out and rush towards your desk.

“You alright, boss?” Zaya, your intern asks, who is more like a personal assistant at this point. She eyes you curiously from her desk as you gasp for air and try to soothe out the wrinkles on your blouse, though there’s absolutely no use in it. 

“Everything is perfectly fine,” you force a smile on your face as you start your computer, emails flowing in like crazy the moment you open your inbox. “Just had a rough morning.”

With Zaya’s help you go through everything at light speed, it’s one of your biggest strengths, being fast and productive, so in just about twenty minutes you reduce the thirty-seven unread emails to just two. 

You’ve cleared your schedule beforehand so you can have a practice run for your big presentation. Today’s board meeting is gonna be an important one. There’s a promotion at risk, one you’ve been working your ass off to get and now it’s so close, you can almost feel it between your fingertips. This presentation and what stands behind it all is what you’ve worked for night and day for the past month and you have never been more confident in yourself, though you can’t shake the general nervousness off.

You make your test run to Zaya who says her mind is blown and there’s no chance you won’t get the promotion. 

“You got it, boss,” she fist bumps you, something you’ve grown to like, it’s her form of appreciation. 

“I hope so,” you sigh. “Alright, I’ll grab a coffee quickly before the meeting.”

You head a few levels down to the main kitchen area that has the best coffee machine in the building. It’s already past the morning rush, so you’re delighted to see that there are just a few people lingering around. Including Eric.

“Hey!” you huff out a smile as you stand next to him at the coffee machine. He peeks at you, just a tiny smile on his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes like usual.

“Hey.”

“If you’re curious, I was only just a bit late this morning,” you chuckle to yourself, grabbing a cup while Eric waits for his own coffee to get ready. 

“Mm, great. Sorry about… the morning.”

“It’s okay, are you nervous? About the presentation?”

Funny enough you’re running for the promotion against Eric, the guy you’ve been hooking up for the past few months. It’s nothing serious, no strings attached, mostly just sex, though you believe that if you spend at least three nights together every week and spend time outside of bed as well, that has to mean more than just a regular hook up.

Right?

“Not really,” he shrugs, but it doesn’t sound genuine.

“It’s okay, you’ll do good,” you smile at him warmly as you place your hand on his arm and give it a squeeze, but you’re surprised when he moves out of your touch, shooting you a look.

“Not… in the office, Y/N,” he grits through his teeth, looking around to check if anyone saw the tiny gesture while you’re just blinking at him dumbly.

Yes, you usually keep your… whatever it is out of the office, but he hasn’t been this distant to you before. Before you could ask his phone starts ringing and he mumbles an apology before running off.

You write it off as nerves, you know Eric to be highly competitive, it must be a new field for him as well, running against someone he is involved with. 

Your heart is racing when you enter the boardroom, welcoming the people that will decide your future at the company, the CEO, the CFO, the head of marketing and a few others you’re not that familiar with, but you know they have power.

For the promotion you had to come up with a plan to boost the numbers on the website that hasn’t been doing much lately. You worked up a plan for a marketing strategy that would reach the target audience in a better way, it’s pretty awesome, you’re quite proud of it and you’re convinced you’ll kick ass with your presentation.

There are a few more minutes left until the meeting, you pour yourself some water and go ahead to open your slides on your computer so you have it all ready when it’s your turn.

“What… Oh no,” you whisper, when your computer starts lagging and the cursor freezes. “No, no, no!”

“Everything alright, Miss?” the CFO notices your panic.

“Yes!” you force a smile on your face. “Everything is… perfect.”

He nods and turns back to his previous conversation while your panic intensifies. You keep pushing buttons and trying to move the cursor, but it looks pretty dead, so you decide to shut it down and try to restart it, hopefully it will come back from the dead. 

Eric strides into the room, but as he takes his seat he doesn’t even look at you, just sets out his own laptop and paper notes and stares ahead of him. No matter how you try to catch his attention, he ignores you fully and it’s just another punch in your stomach.

What the hell is happening?

“Alright, everyone ready?” Daniel, the CEO claps his hands together. “Eric, you’re up first,” he gestures at him and while you’re still desperately trying to revive your computer. 

Eric sets up and when his presentation appears behind him your stomach drops instantly. 

The title, the topic, the colors… everything. You know all of it, because… because you made it. It’s yours.

You forget about your computer as Eric starts talking and he presents your idea, everything you came up with and worked hard on, he hasn’t changed a bit about it and now he is making it look like it’s his own. If you were panicking before now you’re about to set on fire.

That would be probably nice, because you wouldn’t have to go up there and most likely embarrass yourself. 

How did he get your presentation? Why did he steal it? You can’t blame him just out of the blue, you need proof and right now the only device that could have it is dead in front of you. 

You are so screwed. 

“ Holy fucking shit, oh my God!” you keep mumbling under your breath as you approach your desk, holding your dead computer to your chest, eyes wide from what you just went through.

“Boss? You alright?” Zaya’s eyes widen when she sees you all shocked and traumatized.

“No! I’m anything but alright!”

Luckily, the small meeting room near your desk is vacant so you’re quick to take it, Zaya following you right after, shutting the door closed so you can unleash fully.

“Oh my God I can’t fucking believe him! The asshole! How did he fucking do it?!” you snap, throwing everything to the table so you can anxiously start pacing the floor with your hands on your hips. “I cannot believe this, what the hell!”

“Y/N, what happened? You’re starting to scare me,” Zaya eyes you and she actually looks scared which is a new thing, the girl is fearless.

“Eric! He stole my… my whole fucking presentation!” you whisper-yell, throwing your hands up into the air. “Every slide! Every detail! It was all mine! And he sold it as his own!”

“W-what? But… how? And what did you present then?”

“I have no idea! He was up first, as we all knew ahead of time, he went up there, opened his presentation and it was mine! I thought I was about to fall off my seat, fucking hell,” you groan, rubbing your face with your hands. Thanks to your rushed morning you’re not wearing any makeup today so at least you can’t turn yourself into a panda bear. “My laptop died right before the meeting started so I could use it as an excuse and… fuck, I made up a whole other plan on the spot!” You’re about to start hyperventilating, maybe even crying which you’ve never ever done at work before.

“But… that’s good, right? That you came up with something new?” Zaya tries to see the bright side of it, but you shake your head violently.

“You know what I came up with? I said I’m planning to rebuild the whole fucking website! All of it!”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes! I basically set myself up for failure!”

Everyone knows a full makeover could easily be a death sentence, especially with such a short notice. You have no structure to it, no plan and most importantly no IT support to do the actual work. Because you can dream up any idea, but you cannot actually write the code for it. 

Zaya tries to cheer you up but you both know you’re not only knee high, but probably neck high in deep shit. She promises to take up extra hours to help you figure out what to do and though it’s nice, the situation still feels pretty much lost.

You’re on the verge of tears when you make your way to the IT department to have your computer checked out, which is still pretty much dead. You’re already dreading the interaction, Steven, the head of the IT department is a real pain in the ass, he never wants to actually help with anything so it’s always a fight to get things done with him. 

When you walk into their office he is the first one you see and you almost groan out loud, but manage to keep quiet as you approach him.

“Hi Steven, do you happen to have a moment?” you ask, as politely and nicely as you can in the light of what just happened, but apparently it’s not enough for him, because the look he gives you makes you want to turn around and run away.

“What’s the matter?” he grimaces, fixing his glasses as he leans back in his seat.

“My laptop just died,” you hold up the device. 

He stares at you, then at your laptop and then his eyes flicker back to you and he stays silent for what feels like forever before he speaks up.

“I have no time for this now,” he says, returning to his own computer and your shoulders fall forward in defeat, but then he speaks up again. “Go to the back and ask for Styles.”

“Thank you,” you breathe out and are already on your way away from his desk.

Maneuvering between the desks you’re trying to find out who’s Styles or who to even ask to tell you where to find him and you’re just about to stop at one of the desks when you see a big screen, a sticker on the back of it that says H. Styles, so you make your way over there.

As you’re approaching the desk a head full of chocolate curls appear and soon you spot the guy sitting behind the screen, peering up at you with curious, green eyes from behind his glasses.

“Are you… Styles?” you ask, feeling weird that you only know his family name. He stares at you for a second with wide eyes and you start to think you’ve got the wrong guy, but then he nods, the curls bouncing along with the movement.

“Y-yeah. I’m Harry Styles.”

“Great! Steven said you might be able to have a look at my computer, it’s completely dead.”

“Sure,” he clears his throat as he pushes back from the desk while you round it to give the laptop to him. “W-what happened?” he asks as he opens it up and tries to turn it on, but the screen remains black.

“Um, basically it froze right before the most important presentation of my life and then it died and hasn't turned on since then,” you summarize with a sad smile as you watch him grab some kind of cable to connect your laptop with his computer.

Harry hums as he opens some kind of program that has a long, complicated looking code running in front of him and he clicks and searches in it so easily as if he was reading a children’s book. 

“Is it fully dead?” you ask after a couple of minutes. 

“No, but you got a virus, it might take some time to restore everything and some files might not make it, I’m sorry.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling like crying again, but you manage to swallow them back as you lean against the edge of Harry’s desk. He looks up at you like a frightened kid.

“I-I can try to get everything back, I promise, it’s just that–”

“No, I know it’s not up to you. Thank you though. I’m just on the verge of… would it be weird if I started screaming right now?” you ask rhetorically as you pinch the bridge of your nose. 

“I can set up another one for you to use with all the access cloned from yours, but you won’t have the files in the meantime.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”

“Is there any file in particular you want me to try to recover?”

“There’s this folder that would be nice if I had it, here, this is the name,” you say as you grab a post-it and a pen and scribble the name down with all the files in it. 

“Okay, I will try to restore it. Give me a few minutes to set your replacement computer up.”

Nodding sadly you wait by Harry’s desk, watching him work on his computer like it’s an instrument and he is pretty much a professional. You know nothing about programming, but Harry seems like a wizard, you have no idea why Steven makes him deal with all the tiny things when he could pretty much redeem the world. 

“Here, this is the password, everything is set up,” he hands you the new computer.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll give you an email when I have something about your old one.”

“Okay, my address is–”

“I know, I just… I literally just logged you into your account,” he reminds me with a shy smile and you realize he’s right.

“Oh. I forgot. Well, thank you so much, Harry. And I’m sorry you have to deal with it now.”

“It’s fine, I’m the newest on the team, this is how it goes. Rookies get to deal with all the device issues,” he chuckles shortly.

You nod with a sympathetic smile and pay one last look to your savior. He looks young, around your age, but he’s sporting a slight stubble that adds some harshness to his otherwise boyish face. He’s got kind eyes behind his glasses, the prettiest pink lips you’ve ever seen on a man and his curls are screaming to be touched, though you’re not sure HR would take it well if you were just walking around the office, touching people’s hair. Oddly, it wouldn’t be the first time they would have to deal with a situation like this. Bobby DeMarco was a weird dude who worked in sales and he had an even weirder obsession with playing with women’s hair randomly. He didn’t last too long at the company, luckily.

When you return to your desk it takes everything in you to focus on working and A, not find Eric to claw his eyes out and B, not anxiously wait to hear anything from the board about today’s meeting. They are supposed to give feedback today and approve if you can continue working on your project and they can easily just kick you out of the whole thing as well. If that happened Eric would still have to prove himself to be a good fit for the role, but you’d have no chance to ever step up at the company.

You’re a mess, to say the least. You’re panicking over having to do a full website makeover in just a month, you have no idea where you stand with Eric and honestly, you’re torn between never wanting to talk to him and also screaming at him until your lungs give up.

God, your sister will be so mad, she was right! Jeanie warned you. She said it right at the beginning when you started hooking up with Eric that it’s not gonna end well, but you thought she was talking about being dumped eventually, not getting your promotion stolen from you!

When Zaya comes up to you with a question later in the day you’re still so shaken up you can barely make out an answer for her.

“I think you should report it,” she suggests, holding her notebook to her chest.

“And what do I have as proof? My computer is totally dead with all the evidence I made the presentation,” you groan, leaning back in your seat.

“Let’s hope the hot IT guy can restore everything.”

“Hot?” you chuckle. “How do you know he’s hot?”

“You said it’s Harry doing it, right? Curly hair, glasses?” You nod. “I know him, he is definitely hot,” she shrugs smirking, shifting her weight to one leg. “You know what would be nice? Hooking up with him to get revenge on Eric!”

“H-Hooking up? Why would Eric care about who I hook up with?” you clear your throat, pretending like you haven’t had a thing going on with Eric these past months. Zaya gives you a look that clearly says you shouldn’t think she’s stupid and blind.

“Please, Y/N.”

Sighing you roll your eyes as you give up the act.

“Judging from the betrayal Eric gives absolutely no shit about me.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” she shrugs just when your computer pings, signaling two new emails in your inbox.

One from the board and one from Harry.

“Oh shit,” you gasp as you lean forward so fast you almost fall off your seat and Zaya runs behind your desk to see what’s happening as you open the email from the board.

Your eyes skim over the lines several times before you finally process what was written in it.

They approved your plan. You’re still up for the promotion.

“Congrats! You made it!” Zaya cheers.

“Fuck,” you whisper under your breath.

“What’s wrong? I thought this was what you wanted.”

“The chance and the promotion? Yes. But now I have to do a full website makeover in a month which is practically impossible.”

You’re still moping and silently panicking when you’re approaching Harry’s desk for the second time today. When he sees you he jumps to his feet and you almost break a smile because he looks like a puppy for a second, but then you see that he has taken his sweatshirt off, wearing only a simple black t-shirt that puts his tattoo littered arms on display.

Fuck, Zaya was right. He really is kinda hot.

“Hey,” he waves at you when you finally reach his desk.

“Hi, how did it go?” you ask with a deep breath.

“Actually kinda good, I could save most of your stuff,” he says as he sits back and you walk behind his desk, seeing your laptop still wired to his computer. “I saved the files onto a harddrive, but I don’t recommend you to keep using the laptop, it’s… it’s pretty fried,” he chuckles, pushing the glasses further up on the bridge of his nose and for a moment you just stare at his side profile instead of focusing on what he’s showing you on his screen.

“Uh, that’s okay, I’ll be fine with the files,” you clear your throat.

“So um… I don’t know if it matters or not, but I-I thought you might want to know that you didn’t just get the virus because you clicked on something, it was… well, someone put it on your computer and it started attacking the firmware.”

You blink a few times as you process his words and then it all starts to make sense.

“What do you mean someone put it on my computer?”

“Well, there was a malware hidden on your computer that basically attacked the firmware which made it impossible for you to use the laptop and it also attacked the files saved, I found an implanted code that was giving access to–”

“Harry, I don’t really understand what you’re saying,” you remind him, his words sounding absolutely foreign to you.

“Sorry,” he breathes out with a nod. “So basically, the virus stopped your computer from working and it also gave access to a third party to reach your files.”

“So someone could use my files?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

You feel like fainting again, because now it all makes sense. And you’re starting to see red.

“Can you see what files they messed with?”

“Actually, I’m glad you asked,” he smiles proudly. “I was able to find everything they duplicated and there’s a folder they tried to get rid of, but I restored it.”

“Is it by any chance the folder I gave the name to you?”

“It is,” he nods, his fingers starting to type on his keyboard at lightspeed. “Here. See these lines?” he asks, pointing at a code you understand nothing of, but you nod. “It’s basically something they should have paid attention to if they wanted to leave no trace, but I found it so now we know what they were trying to put their hands on. I even have time stamps too. The virus was on your computer for a while and then it was activated to attack the firmware today.”

This is all like a movie, it feels like you’re in Mission Impossible or James Bond, except it’s not a great villain who is working against you but the guy you trusted to let into your bed. The guy you considered your friend and even something more than just that lately.

You made a mistake, you see it now and you want to dwell on it but you know you have no time for that, you have to keep moving forward.

“Do you know who did it?”

“Unfortunately, no. I could only get proof if I had access to the other person’s computer who was hacking yours. I’m sorry.”

Harry seems genuinely sad, as if he failed, but he did so much for you already.

“It’s okay. Thank you so much, can you… like, make a record of all these? So we have all this as proof at least.”

“Already done,” he nods. “Do you want me to file a report?”

“No. No need for that,” you shake your head. “But… I want to ask a favor from you. I know we barely know each other and you probably have a lot of work, so feel free to say no.”

“What is it?”

“Do you want to help me redesign our whole website?”

You’re anxiously chewing on your bottom lip as you wait for the Skype call to be answered, your sister’s name flashing on the screen until her pixelated face replaces it.

And she looks mad, just as you expected.

“Y/N, I told you so! I literally told you so!” she starts off, the voice cracks a bit as the call stabilizes.

“Can we skip the part where you tell me off like a child for hooking up with a coworker who ended up fucking me over?” you flash a smile, but she rolls her eyes at you, leaning back on her couch, her right side getting more illuminated by the lamp beside her couch. It’s past seven in the evening in Tokyo while it’s just six am for you. For the past six months this has been your usual, trying to call each other at a time that’s reasonable for the both of you with the insane thirteen hours of time difference. It’s definitely a hard task and sometimes you have to plan a call days, even weeks ahead.

“No, because I’m so mad!” she groans. “Mostly at the fucker, but you as well!”

“I really don’t need to hear how much I fucked up,” you mumble, looking down at your lap.

“Sorry,” she sighs, realizing she is making you feel even guiltier. “I’m just… you worked so hard for this and now he is ruining it.”

“I’m still up for the promotion,” you shrug.

“Yeah, but you said it’s almost impossible to do what you presented.”

“Well, things are looking a bit better now.”

She listens intently as you tell her about what Harry found on your computer and how you ended up asking him to help you out. You truly didn’t think he would say yes, but he didn’t even think about it before agreeing. So now you have the IT part covered by him, you just have to come up with all the rest.

“This Harry guy…” Sammy starts and you hold up your hand.

“Don’t give me the speech again, I learned my lesson.”

“No, actually I wanted to say that I like him.”

“For real?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. 

“I mean, he is willing to work an immense amount of extra time on your project and he basically has no benefit from it. I hope you do realize how big of a sacrifice he is making for your promotion.”

You knew how big of a deal it has been from Harry to help you out but now that Sammy said it out loud, realization hits. It’s not right he gets nothing out of it, so you note to yourself to go over it with him when you meet him in the morning for your first planning session.

“I’ll talk to him about it. Now let’s talk about something else.”

Harry was afraid he wouldn’t be able to wake up so early in the morning and make it into the office for the meeting with you, but it turns out his excitement to be working with you is kicking him out of bed even before his alarm goes off. 

He does his usual morning routine, shower, get dressed, breakfast and checking he has everything he needs in his backpack for the day and then he’s on his way. When he walks into the café that’s two blocks away from his apartment the bell gently chimes above his head, catching the attention of the owner, Frida. 

“Harry! You’re up early today!” she greets him with a beaming smile, her grey hair is in her signature low bun, her blue eyes twinkling at the sight of him.

“I have an early meeting,” he mumbles with a shy smile, the tip of his ears turning red and she doesn’t miss it, but she knows how closed off he is so she doesn’t even try to tease her about it. 

“The usual?”

“Um, yeah, but can you make it two?”

“Of course,” she nods with a knowing smile, her suspicion is getting proven that this early meeting is with someone special. 

The two chat lightly while Friday makes the coffees to go, handing the paper cups to Harry once they’re done.

“Have a lovely day, Harry,” she waves after him and he nods back, pushing the door open with his hips, a cup in each of his hands.

He can’t deny there’s a pep in his step as he enters the building that’s eerily empty so early in the morning. He did not expect his day to take such an unexpected turn yesterday. He’s seen you around the office a few times before but he knew nothing about you, just that your laughter is ridiculously contagious. Then you jumped into the elevator with him in the morning, looking a bit messy but very pretty nevertheless. He could only blink as the elevator sped up and moments later you were out of sight.

But then you strolled into the IT department with your ruined computer and he finally learned your name. While he wanted to help with your laptop as much and fast as possible, he was also dreading the moment you’d pick the harddrive up with all your files and then never talk to him again. He felt silly, crushing on a woman he only officially met just a few hours before, but he couldn’t help it. Even when you were visibly stressed and worried he thought you were enchanting. 

He was not expecting you to ask for his help, but luckily his brain clicked instantly and agreed without hesitation. For one, he’s been dealing with boring projects as the rookie on the team and this seems like a great challenge for him. 

On the other hand, he would have said yes to anything you asked him, literally. 

So now as he walks into the meeting room where you’re supposed to meet his excitement is mixed with some anxiety, because as much as he is curious about this project he is nervous to spend so much time with you all of a sudden. He can only hope he won’t seem like a freak to you.

Thanks to the early Skype session with Sammy you’re on time too, arriving to the office building just minutes after Harry. He’s setting his laptop up when you arrive, his head snapping up when you approach the desk and take the seat next to him.

“Morning,” you smile at him warmly.

“Good morning,” he smiles back, fixing his glasses to sit straight before reaching for the extra cup of coffee. “Um, I brought you this. Actually, I realized too late that I don’t know how you like your coffee, so y-you don’t have to drink it…”

“Oh! That’s very kind, thank you! I drink coffee however I can,” you chuckle. “I just need the caffeine.”

You see a small smile flash across his face before he returns to his computer while you settle next to him. 

“Before we start, I wanted to go over something with you.” Harry turns to you curiously as you try to figure out what to even say. “This is a huge thing and I know it needs a lot of time and work. I don’t feel comfortable letting you do it without getting anything for the work you do.”

“Oh, I-I don’t need anything, I’m glad to help.”

“That’s very kind, but it still doesn’t feel fair. If there is anything I can do for you, literally anything, just feel free to ask. I would feel better if I knew you’re getting your reward for your work.”

Harry thinks about it for a few seconds before nodding to himself.

“Do I have to come up with something now?”

“No,” you chuckle. “Just promise me you’ll think of some way I can pay you back.”

“Okay.”

In the next hour you learn two things. One, working with Harry is incredibly easy. He is efficient, communicates well and simply a great at teamwork, it’s like a breath of fresh air after some of the people you’ve previously worked with.

The other thing you learn is that he is incredibly smart and it makes him very… sexy.

God, you shouldn’t be having these thoughts after what happened with Eric, but you’re not immune to a good-looking man with so much knowledge, especially when it’s in IT. You know nothing about coding and when he pulls up his miles long codes, types quietly for a few minutes and then shows you what he did, explaining to you the science behind it… it’s making you feel things you shouldn’t be. It’s so attractive when someone knows so much about something and they’re passionate and devoted to the field. It’s clear that Harry’s field is programming and he is ridiculously good at it. 

You were afraid the task would turn out to be impossible and every time he spends just a little more time silently staring at his code you’re expecting him to give up and tell you he can’t do it.

But he comes up with something every time and by the time the meeting ends you feel oddly enthusiastic and optimistic about the whole makeover that was scaring you to death just yesterday.

“Harry, you are… truly a life saver,” you sigh contently as you lean back in your seat, a long list of tasks on your screen, but you can actually see the light at the end of the tunnel now. 

“I’m happy to help,” he smiles shyly, nodding to himself. 

“Do not forget about the payment, I really want to pay it all back to you.”

“I won’t, I promise,” he chuckles softly.

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Tomorrow,” he confirms before packing up his stuff and leaving.

You stay in your seat for a little longer, just having a break before starting your actual work day. Opening up your calendar you check what meetings you have today and that’s when you face what you’ve been religiously ignoring since yesterday’s ordeal.

The weekly marketing sync where most of the time it’s just you and Eric, because Dominik, the third person who should be present likes to cancel last minute. 

It’s ridiculous that you still haven’t gotten into contact with him. Part of you was expecting him to come to you, to give you any kind of explanation though there is nothing he could have said that would have explained why he did all of that.

It’s been radio silence on his part and now you have to face him and talk to him.

You’d rather throw up in the middle of the office than do it, but you have to suck it up and deal with him.

He is there in the meeting room when you walk in, typing away on his computer like nothing happened, like he didn’t just try to ruin your career.

“Eric?” you call out, your voice sounds a lot more confident than you were expecting luckily.

He looks up, his face remains completely blank and it just angers you even more.

“Hey,” he nods without batting an eye.

“Hey?” you chuckle, as you close the door behind you, shutting you away from the rest of the people outside. “Don’t you have something to say to me?”

“Y/N, do you really want to do this?” he sighs, as if it was tiring to even think about the situation.

“Eric, you stole my whole presentation and sold it as yours!”

“Are you sure about that?”

You’re seeing red. And you’ve never been this close to actually punching someone in the face. 

“Of course I’m sure about it! That was my presentation! Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Eric stands from his seat, taking his sweet time as he walks closer, trying to intimidate you with the height difference, which used to work, you even found it hot when he towered over you, but now it’s like his existence is giving you the ick.

“You have no proof, Y/N. And you didn’t say a word at the meeting. That ship has sailed, now it’s time to move on.”

“It was all just a joke to you?”

“I told you at the beginning I didn’t want anything serious, that wasn’t a lie.”

“But did you do it just to fuck my presentation up? We literally started hooking up when the open position was announced.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does!” you laugh in disbelief, tears stinging your eyes, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry because of him.

“Okay,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just wanted to get to know you and see what you’d come up with for the presentation, but then one thing followed the other and… I went with it.” He shrugs and then goes back to his computer like you just discussed the weather and not how he used you and then threw you away.

You can’t hold yourself together any longer, so you turn around and get as far from him as possible as you try not to start sobbing in the middle of the office. Fuck, this shouldn’t hurt this much, but you really trusted him, you thought you could have something serious, you were hoping Sammy wouldn’t be right about him, but she was. Unfortunately.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you approach your desk Zaya is not in today, so it’s pretty calm around your desk, but then you spot someone lingering there.

“Y/N?” Harry sees how shaken you look as you finally reach him at your desk. “A-Are you alright?”

“Hi Harry,” you force a smile out, but you can’t fool anyone with it. “Did we… Do we have a meeting or something?”

“No, I just wanted to show something… Y/N, are you about to cry?””

“N-No,” you shake your head, but your lips are already wobbling and you fail to prove your words right.

“Uh, come on, let’s have a break. Want to come up to the roof?” He gently circles an arm around your shoulders and you let him lead you back to the elevators.

“Roof? We can go out to the roof?” you ask, wiping your tears away.

He doesn’t reply, just makes sure to shield you from the curious eyes as you make your way up to the top of the building. You genuinely didn’t know the roof could be used and when you see Harry push the heavy door open that leads outside you’re guessing it’s not exactly a public spot, but you don’t question it.

It looks just like how a rooftop should look, it’s definitely not open for public use but when Harry leads you over the corner and you see a little bench there, facing the panoramic view, you know you have just found a secret spot.

“Is this where you hide from Steven?” you attempt to joke as you sit down with him. 

“Sometimes, yes,” he chuckles. “Not my spot though, I think the janitor comes up here to smoke, but I haven’t run into him yet.”

You sit in silence, Harry gives you time and space to pull yourself together, not rushing you to talk at all and you’re grateful for his patience. Staring ahead at the view you take a few deep breaths, telling yourself not to let Eric’s bullshit get to your head. 

“I’m sorry you had to… deal with my tantrum,” you chuckle sadly at last. 

“That wasn’t a tantrum,” he smiles softly. “And don’t be sorry, everyone could have a bad day. Want to talk about what happened?”

“I trusted the wrong person,” you purse your lips. “Um, the virus you found on my computer. Someone from the company put it there to fuck up my chances for a promotion I’ve been dreaming of for a long time.”

“What? Are you… are you serious?”

“Yeah and the worst part is that… god, don’t tell anyone, but I’ve been kind of… hooking up with him and he said it was all just to get closer to me.”

Harry opens his mouth to say something, but then ends up closing it, processing what you just told him. You don’t blame him for being lost and confused, it’s a shitshow, to say the least. 

“That’s… That’s awful, I’m sorry,” he clears his throat, gently shaking his head. 

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” you chuckle. “I trusted the wrong person. Learned my lesson,” you shrug, and you wish you could actually end it all in your head with that, but you know it will bother you for a while at least. 

“Can I ask who this person is?”

“Eric Sonders.”

“I think… I know him. Didn’t think he could be this… vile.”

“Me neither!” you laugh. 

“So… he stole your idea and presentation, so now you have to do something else? And that’s the makeover?”

Nodding you briefly tell him what happened at the meeting, he listens intently and then shakes his head in disapproval, probably just as upset and lost about Eric’s behavior as you are. 

“You should report him, this is incredibly unethical and unacceptable.”

“I have no proof. We can’t prove that he did it all to my computer, you said it yourself.”

“Shit, you’re right.”

While Harry is deep in his thoughts you just stare ahead of yourself, doing a short assessment of your current situation. This should have been an exciting, professionally challenging time in your life, working on something that would earn you your promotion, but now, you feel like it’s more out of your reach than ever.

“We’ll make it work,” Harry speaks up, as if he could read your mind. “We can do it.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah. It’s gonna be a tight stretch, but… It’s not impossible.”

“You are truly a life saver for agreeing to do it, Harry. I have no idea what I would do without you.”

He turns to you with a sheepish smile and you notice the slight pink shade on his cheeks as he nods.

“I’m happy to help.”

Part of you knew this would be deadly, but even after expecting the worst, it hits you like a train.

In the next two weeks you feel like you spend every waking moment working on the project with Harry. Sometimes you do it together, sharing ideas, discussing them, sometimes you’re together but work in silence and sometimes you do it apart. Whichever it is, you eat, drink and dream with the new website.

While Harry is taking care of the coding, you do everything else, that means content writing, planning, organizing and also designing. It’s been ages since the last time you designed anything, once upon a time you thought you’d end up in that field, but then somehow marketing came into the picture and now you have to combine your two passions. 

It’s destroying you absolutely, but slowly it’s starting to add up and you can see the progress. 

On a Friday evening you’re still in the office after seven, practically everyone has left by now, but you’re deep in work with Harry beside you. It's one of those quiet sessions, when you’re working together, but only speak when there’s an issue. Neither of you said anything for about an hour when the silence is interrupted by Harry’s ringing phone.

“Ah, sorry,” he mumbles, jumping in his seat at the sudden noise as he reaches for the phone, checking the caller ID before his eyes go wide. “Oh shit,” he mumbles and you look up at him as he answers the call. “Hey Mitch!”

You hear a voice from the phone, but it’s too muffled for you to make out what they are saying.

“Um, I’m kind of still at the office… No, I didn’t forget!” he protests, but the look on his face clearly tells you he did forget something. “I-I don’t know… Yeah, I’ve been just working with Y/N… No, I won’t– Mitch… No!... Uh, okay…”

He holds the phone away from his ear, covering the mic with a hand as he looks at you with anxious eyes, he looks like a reindeer caught in headlights. 

“Um, I forgot I was supposed to meet two of my friends for a few drinks. Is it okay if I leave now?”

“Oh God, of course! Harry, it’s so late, I shouldn’t have kept you here so long.”

“You didn’t keep me,” he chuckles, before the worried look returns to his face. “Actually, would you… I mean only if you want to–So do you maybe… want to come?”

It’s adorable how he stumbles over his own words and you see the familiar pink shade tinting his face again, it’s a color you’ve seen a lot lately and you’ve grown to quite like it. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your friends.”

“You wouldn’t intrude, I mean, I’m asking because I want you to join, obviously.”

“I-I’ll just go home and work some more, it’s fine–”

“Y/N, we’ve been working all day,” he chuckles. “You deserve some free time as well.”

You think of his words, these two weeks has been so busy you didn’t even do anything else than working and sleeping practically. Some off time would be actually amazing for your fried brain.

“Only if you truly don’t mind,” you say at last.

“Let’s pack then,” he beams with a smile as he shuts his computer down.

Twenty minutes later you’re walking into a bar you’ve never been to, joining Harry’s friends for drinks and though you can’t put your finger on it, but for some reason you feel a bit anxious. 

“Hey guys,” Harry waves at a couple sitting in a dimly lit booth. The woman is the first one to look at you with a beaming, bright smile as she slides out and holds her hand out for you.

“Hi! You must be Y/N! I’m Sarah and this is my husband, Mitch,”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you breathe out as you shake hands with Mitch as well.

You’re instantly bombarded with questions from Sarah as you slip into the booth and don’t even notice that Harry leaves and then returns with two drinks.

“Oh, thank you,” you smile at him as he sits beside you.

“So how is the project going?” Mitch speaks up, lazily draping an arm to the back of the seat behind Sarah.

“It’s going good,” Harry hums with a small nod, very humble about how much he has gotten done in just the first week.

“Mostly because of Harry’s hard work,” you add, praising him the way he deserves and it brings back that pink shade to his cheeks.

Sarah and Mitch are very easy to talk to, they seem curious about the projects the two of you are working on and just you in general. You’re having a great time hanging out with them and you feel like you’ve known them for a long time even though you literally just met.

You don’t even notice how time flies by, only when Sarah checks the time and lets Mitch know that they need to be heading home so the babysitter can leave.

“It was really nice meeting you, Y/N. I hope we can do this some other time,” Sarah hugs you.

“If Harry doesn’t mind me interrupting his time with his friends, then I’m in,” you chuckle, looking at the man in question who just shakes his head with a shy smile, letting you know he definitely does not mind.

“Alright, then it’s settled!”

They say their goodbye to Harry as well and suddenly it’s just the two of you in the booth and Harry is noticeably more nervous than before.

“Um, w-we don’t have to stay, if you want to go home, you co–”

“I’m happy to stay, Harry,” you smile at him without hesitation. He seems surprised, but excited at your answer.

You order another round of drinks and with the previous ones already consumed, it seems like Harry is slowly opening up, leaving his shyness behind and you get to have a peek behind his walls. The more you find out about him the more sure you get that he is truly an amazing, brilliant person and you wish you had met him earlier.

Maybe then you wouldn’t have fallen for Eric’s bullshit. Maybe then you would have fallen for him.

The drinks you’ve had don’t actually let it register, but you’re already developing a crush on him. How could you not? He is sweet, caring, smart, very thoughtful, basically the polar opposite of Eric. It’s making you question what you even saw in that asshole, you really put the bar too low.

“Oh shit, it’s already three in the morning,” you chuckle, when you finally check the time. “I should head home, I can’t sleep all day tomorrow,” you sigh, rubbing your face with your hands, realizing just how tired you feel. 

“I’ll call an Uber, is it okay if we share one?”

“It’s more than okay,” you smile at him lazily.

Minutes later you’re out in front of the bar, waiting for the ride to arrive. It has gotten significantly chillier, you did not dress for a night out so you’re holding your blazer jacket tight on yourself. When Harry notices he shrugs off his jean jacket without a word and drapes it over your shoulders.

“No, you’ll be cold!” you try to protest, but he shakes his head.

“I have a hoodie in my backpack,” he shrugs and pulls out a black hoodie, putting it on right when a car pulls up in front of you.

“Thank you for inviting me out tonight,” you quietly speak up on the backseat of the Uber, staring at Harry’s dimly lit handsome face. His glasses slid down on the bridge of his nose and you had enough drinks to have the courage to reach out and push them back gently. The gesture seemingly surprised him, but he doesn’t protest, just keeps his eyes focused on you.

“It was nice hanging out with you outside of the office.”

“Now we know we have things to talk about outside of the project,” you chuckle, making him grin as well. “We’re a great duo, Harry.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure about it at first, I have never had to work this closely together with an IT guy and I was afraid I might be too intense for you. But it all turned out so good, I like spending time with you.”

“Really?”

“Is it that surprising?” you chuckle, letting your head fall back and rest on the back of the seat. “You’re a cool guy, Harry Styles. And very handsome.”

The last comment rolls off your tongue before you could bite it back and though it’s too dark to see it, you just know he is all blushed. Before any of you could speak up, the car comes to a stop, you’ve arrived at your building. Harry gets out of the car with you and walks you up to the door. 

“See you on monday?” he shyly kicks the dust, hands in his pockets. 

“Yeah. Thanks for tonight,” you repeat yourself and there’s a heartbeat of silence where you feel that moment.

You probably should not be feeling this way, not after getting yourself burnt so bad, but you can’t help it. You want to kiss Harry and for a split second you believe he wants to do the same. His eyes flicker down to your lips and you move just a tiny bit closer to him, time stands still and just when you think he’ll do it, he clears his throat and steps back.

“Good night, Y/N,” he mumbles nodding before he walks back to the car. 

You stand there, feeling stupid as you blink after him before snapping out of your trance, forcing yourself to walk inside. As you take a quick shower and get ready to bed you get into a spiral. 

First of all you’re such a needy idiot for jumping from one man to the other. You should not be looking at men at all after Eric and yet here you are, crushing on yet another coworker of yours, what is wrong with you?! 

And second, why were you expecting him to kiss you? You’ve barely known each other for a few weeks and Harry is a reasonable man, he is probably not at all like you, he probably doesn’t want to get involved with a coworker especially not you. Some signs were giving you a feeling that he might have liked you more than just a friend, but you must have totally misread him. 

You have to control yourself and not scare him away, especially since he is doing you a huge favor, the last thing you want to do is to make him uncomfortable.

Harry hasn’t stopped thinking about you all weekend. Specifically about that moment in front of your apartment building where he would have sworn he felt you were expecting him to kiss you, but he couldn’t do it. Not when you were clearly intoxicated.

He didn’t want you to think he would ever take advantage of you like that.

The next week starts oddly. He gets some extra tasks and you get involved in another project as well, so you can’t work together like last week. Monday and then Tuesday rushes by without the two of you meeting. By Wednesday Harry is craving to see you again and it seems like it’s finally happening, because you don’t cancel your morning meeting. He arrives in a good mood with coffee for you and him, excited to show you everything he finished in the past days.

But then he can feel the change in you when you walk in.

You seem off, but at first he can’t tell why. You’re not your bubbly self, you seem very closed off and oddly professional compared to the times the two of you met earlier. Harry tries to tell himself it’s nothing serious, but the more time you spend together the more obvious it’s getting and he can’t take it anymore.

“Y/N?” he quietly asks at the end of the meeting. “Is everything alright?”

“Sure,” you nod, but it’s like as if you didn’t even believe it yourself.

“Did… Did I do something that upset you?”

“Nope, I just…” You sigh, giving up the facade you’ve been trying hard to keep up. “Listen, about Friday, I’m very sorry, Harry.”

“Sorry? For what?”

“I feel like I overstepped a line and made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry about that. If I made you uncomfortable. I want us to work well together and my unfiltered mouth was not at all professional that night, so I’m really sorry about that.”

Harry is blinking at you, confused and lost about what you truly meant by all that. He did not see this coming and now he has no idea how to react other than just looking at you with a startled expression.

“Can we just go back to where we were before that?”

“Where… I don’t-I mean, um…”

“Let’s just forget about when we parted ways, please?”

“So… Uh, yeah,” he at last nods, trying his best to mask his disappointment. He thought there might be something more between the two of you, but this conversation is proof that you just had too many drinks and you didn’t mean any of it. 

“Thank you so much,” you breathe out in relief. “I wouldn’t want to ruin our work together.”

Harry nods silently and doesn’t ask more about it. 

He is trying hard to hide his disappointment and part of home wants to know if you felt even the slightest spark on Friday or it was all just the alcohol, but he is not one to dig into things that might end him up in an awkward situation. He just swallows it all down and pulls his walls up again.

You can feel a bitter taste in your mouth as well after your talk with Harry. Something felt off, but you can’t put your finger on it and soon you have something else to worry about. 

You’re surprised to see Eric chatting with Zaya when you return to your desk. Your intern, bless her heart, is trying to keep a straight and professional face but you can tell she wants to scream at the man who definitely thinks he is charming the young girl with his small talk. 

“Eric? What are you doing here?” you ask, biting your tongue so you don’t tell him to leave and fuck himself.

“Hey, can we talk? Privately?” 

You look at Zaya and her eyes tell you what she thinks: it’s the literal worst idea ever. And you want to say no to him, but judging from his antics lately he would somehow use it against you so you don’t have much of a choice.

“Sure,” you mumble and the two of you take an empty meeting room. “So?” 

“Look, I want to apologize.”

What? Is he for real? That was unexpected.

“My behavior was uncalled for and very unprofessional.”

“Do you mean the way you stole my idea and presentation or the way you talked to me when I confronted you about it?”

“Can you not attack me, please?” he gives you a look that would have put you in place before, but now it just annoys you. He is trying to make you be the one in the wrong and you want to snap at him for still being such an ass, but you want to be the bigger person and stay professional. No matter how much you hate him, you’re still colleagues. 

“Go on,” you sigh, folding your arms over your chest.

“I know I can’t change the past but I think it's best if we deal with it in a decent way.”

How noble of him, pulling the rug from underneath you and then acting like he is this decent, peaceful man who just wants to work together. You want to throw up, but you swallow it back and force a smile onto your face.

“Sure, of course,” you tell him.

Seemingly Eric is satisfied with the work he did, but he is so tone deaf it hurts. He smiles nodding and heads out of the room with you behind him.

“Great talk!” he enthuses before walking away.

Zaya turns to you with wide eyes and you just shake your head.

“He wanted to apologize, though he didn’t really succeed, but I feel like it doesn’t matter to him,” you shrug as you sit behind your desk.

“You’re not forgiving him, right?”

“Of course not,” you scoff. “But we’re still colleagues, I can’t keep up the beef, it’s too tiring. I’ll just ignore his existence.”

You don’t think much of Eric’s ridiculous attempt to make peace, you keep your focus on your own project. 

There’s a bit of awkwardness between you and Harry after your little talk, but you feel like with time it eases and you write it off as just him not fond of situations like the one you put him into on Friday. 

Thursday afternoon the two of you are having another session together, working on some details he’s been trying to figure out himself, but he needs your input to finish them as well. It turns into brainstorming which results in a bunch of new things you want to include, but it will also add more work to your plate.

“I’m really sorry I always just keep adding new stuff to your load,” you sigh, truly feeling like you’re constantly overstepping boundaries, but Harry just shakes his head.

“I’m excited about these all. These are great functions and I’m looking forward to writing the code.”

“That sounded so nerdy,” you chuckle, but notice that Harry’s smile has disappeared.

“Sorry.”

“Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that! It’s great, I love it when someone is so passionate about something. I love it when you get deep into the tech talk. I think it’s amazing how much you know about these stuff.”

“But you can always just tell me to shut up, I know a lot of people don’t like it when I talk like that,” he mumbles, noticeably avoiding looking you in the eyes.

“Has… someone told you not to talk about programming?”

“Um…” He shifts uncomfortably and you’re about to tell him he doesn’t need to answer, but then he speaks up. “My ex girlfriend hated it when I talked about IT stuff,” he shrugs, but you can tell it’s something he struggled with. 

You can’t imagine ever telling him to stop talking about something that brings him this much joy. It’s clear this is his element and any woman that would try to restrain it is an idiot and can’t appreciate how wonderful this man is. 

You watch him quietly finish up on his computer before he starts to shut it down and you know you have to say something.

“She did not deserve you.”

He blinks at you surprised so you continue.

“Anyone who wants you to stop talking about something that makes you happy is not a person you want in your life, Harry, I hope you know that.”

“Uh… thank you,” he mumbles, that lovely pink shade taking over his face once again.

“You can always talk tech with me. I like listening to it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. It amazes me, because I know nothing about it.” And it’s really hot, you want to add, but then bite your tongue. 

There’s a tiny smile on his pink lips and you can tell this moment matters to him more than you could imagine and you’re glad you could make him happy like that.

“D-Do you want to grab something to eat?” he suggests as the two of you head out of the meeting room.

“That sounds great! I’m starving!” you groan. “Let me just grab my bag from my desk.

Harry nods and follows you, he already has his backpack with him. You’re musing about what you should have and Harry is telling you about this amazing bagel place he loves when you spot the familiar figure near your desk. 

“Eric, what are you doing here?” you ask, but you’re tempted to phrase your words differently, because it’s quite obvious he was snooping around your desk, not expecting you to show up after office hours.

“Y/N, hi! I was just… I thought I left some papers here the other day,” he clears his throat, stepping away from your desk. 

“You had no papers with you,” you simply say, knowing well something is off with him.

“Maybe I remembered wrong,” he chuckles. “Alright, see you later,” he waves and then leaves quickly before you could ask any more questions. 

“What was that about?” Harry asks as you launch at your desk, checking what might have changed.

“He was looking for something. He is trying to play me again,” you hiss through your teeth, frantically examining what he could have put his hands on, but you see nothing out of place. But then you realize that he must have thought you left your laptop, that’s what he was looking for. “Oh my God,” you gasp, quickly starting your laptop to see if there is anything wrong with it. 

“What? What’s going on?”

“Harry, can you, uhh—Can you check if there is anything wrong with my laptop?” you plead as he rounds your desk and sits nodding, though he is a tad bit lost about what’s happening.

“Like, check if there’s another virus, or something?”

“Yes. I think he was trying to tamper with it again, I can’t know for sure if he hasn’t touched it earlier.”

You knew his half-assed apology was tactic, but you didn’t think he would do it all over again. Eric really isn’t the person you thought him to be.

You watch Harry type away on your computer, anxiously waiting for him to say anything and in the meanwhile you’re planning how you’ll get rid of Eric the moment you finally get your well-deserved promotion. There’s no way you’re letting a snake like him work at the company. 

“I don’t see anything,” Harry finally leans back and you exhale in relief.

“I can’t let it out of my sight from now on,” you grumble, shaking your head. 

In this moment you feel like you’re running out of energy, all because you trusted the wrong person. Feeling defeated you collapse into Zaya’s chair, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Harry softly says, as if he could read your mind.

“I’m in this situation because I made all the worst choices. I can’t blame anyone else but myself.”

“You couldn’t have known this is how it would turn out to be.”

“I know, but…”

“No but. Just… You know what? I’ll install an extra security program on your laptop so only you can access it, alright?”

“Really?” you sit up straight.

“Yeah, just give me a few moments.”

He gets down to work, works his magic and a minute later he is explaining to you what he got set up on your laptop to secure it.

“Harry, I owe you so much at this point,” you sigh in relief when it sinks in that Eric will not get his hands on your things again. “I have no idea how I will be able to pay you back.”

You notice a slight shift in him as he clears his throat, looking at you nervously.

“About that… I-I think I know h-how–I mean I thought about what… you could…”

“You know what you want in return?” you perk up, happy to do something for Harry after everything he did for you. 

“Y-you can say no, it’s okay, I just–Um…”

“Harry, whatever it is, my answer is gonna be yes,” you chuckle, placing a gentle hand on his arm. He looks at your hand and then up to your eyes before finally speaking up.

“Go on a date… with me?”

Harry has been working up the courage to ask you all day, but he didn’t think he would have the balls to say it out loud. Sarah and Mitch urged him to shoot his shot, even after the kind of awkward conversation you had earlier. His friends were convinced you were into him regardless, but he’s been struggling to believe it himself.

It was kind of random he blurted it out, but now it’s been said and he is about to faint, waiting for your response. You’re staring back at him, eyebrows slightly raised, lips parted, but no words have left your mouth since his question.

“Y-You don’t have to, I-I understand–I mean, it’s–”

“Harry,” you cut him off. “I would love to go on a date with you,” you finally tell him and it feels like a stone has been lifted off his shoulders, his heart is about to jump out of his chest any moment.

“But I won’t take it as your payment,” you add and now it’s his turn to be surprised. 

“What?” he breathes out, not sure what to make of your words.

“I would never take it as a payment, because I would go on a date with you regardless, Harry. Think of something else and we will have the date as well.”

“Really?” 

“Of course,” you chuckle. 

“Okay, alright, um… then… it’s a date!”

Harry is late.

He promised to be there at the meeting room on time to support you and answer any tech related questions that might come up in connection with your presentation. Eric is now presenting his (your) idea, he has added some features to it since he stole the whole thing, but it’s still mainly yours. 

“Thank you very much for your attention,” he nods as he finishes his talk and the board claps shortly before it’s your turn to stand in front of them. 

You’re plugging your laptop together with the projector when the door of the meeting room opens and Harry’s head pops inside. Relief washes over you as you watch him apologize for his late arrival and take a seat. Your gaze meets his and he smiles at you sweetly, holding his thumb up for you as you load the presentation. Now you feel braver, knowing he is here to support you.

You desperately wish you could read minds as you go on with your presentation. You’re met with mostly blank faces, but they were the same during Eric’s presentation as well, so you can’t tell what they are thinking about. It’s going smoothly, you rehearsed it a million times instead of sleeping in the past few days and when it’s time for questions you ace all of them, even the few tech ones. You’ve spent so much time with Harry that you can easily give an answer to everything at this point.

“Thank you for your attention,” you nod smiling at the end and disconnect your laptop from the projector, walking back to Harry.

“You did amazing,” he smiles at you proudly and his approval means the most to you. 

“Thanks.”

“I’m sorry I was late, I had to take care of something.”

“It’s okay. I’m just happy you’re here.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have missed it.” The CEO stands up and all heads turn in his direction.

“Thank you for the presentations, I would like to ask the candidates to leave the room so we can vote.”

You gather all your stuff and head out with Harry by your side. Eric ignores your existence, as if he didn’t lie and cheat his way to this moment, but you’re not stressing yourself anymore about it. 

You definitely believe in karma.

“You’ve got this,” Harry smiles at you softly and your heart melts at his expression. 

You’re planning to have your date tonight. It’s gonna be either a ‘you’ve got the promotion, now let’s celebrate with our date’ occasion or ‘you didn’t get the promotion so let’s cheer you up with a date’, you’re fine with both, truly. You know you put everything you had into this promotion and if they still decide not to choose you, that’s their loss and your sign to move on. 

You’re beyond excited about your date. There’s been an obvious change in your dynamic since Harry has asked you out, there are more glances, little touches, compliments and some very apparent sexual tension that’s still within the lines of comfort, it’s not too hard to control yourself, but you keep noticing more and more things about him that are pulling you towards him.

“I will miss our little work session,” you smile back at him shyly.

“Little? They usually lasted hours,” he chuckles, making you laugh too.

“Loved them all,” you shrug and the look on his face tells you he did too. 

The board takes some time to make their decision and when the door opens fifteen minutes later your heart skips a beat. The CEO asks you all to return to the room and you take your previous seat, Harry sitting next to you. His hand brushes against your knee shortly and you look at him, your gaze meeting his as he gives you an encouraging smile.

“Thank you all for these amazing presentations, we were very pleased with the plans and projects,” the CEO starts as he stands at the head of the table. “We had no doubt you two are the best applicants for the position and it’s been hard to decide who to choose, but at last we made a decision.”

Oh God, you’re about to throw up. Is it you? Is it Eric? You hope you won’t cry. That could happen in either case, but you really don’t want to cry in front of all these people. 

“The person we chose to fulfill the position is…” His eyes scan over the both of you as you hold your breath and then it finally lands on you. “Y/N Y/L/N. Congratulations.”

And just like that, your lungs fill with air again and it feels like a rock has been lifted off your shoulders. 

“I told you,” you hear Harry beside you and when you look at him you see pride all over his face and you can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around his neck to hug him.

“Thank you, it wouldn’t have happened without you,” you mumble as you squeeze him tight before letting go of him, going up to the board to shake hands. 

At first you don’t even process it, but then Eric’s voice hits your ear and you realize he is turning red across the table, complaining nonstop about the outcome.

“...The whole thing was so fucking out of the blue! Redesigning the whole website? That’s like suicide!...”

You don’t even have the chance to react to his comments, the CEO speaks up for everyone.

“Y/N’s idea is daring, innovative and brave, just what we need. We don’t want to play it safe and your idea was definitely in the safe zone.”

“His idea,” you scoff under your breath.

“Actually, there is something I would like to show you, if you have a few more minutes,” Harry speaks up as he starts his laptop and moves over to where the board is. You’re watching him completely puzzled.

“There’s been an unfortunate incident about the presentations. Y/N’s original idea was stolen, a virus has been planted on her computer to cover up the deed, but I could not recover enough information about the perpetrator to make accusations, that was until a few days ago.”

What?!

You see Eric’s red face turn completely white as Harry types away on his computer and then shows something to the board. They curiously eye the alleged proof as Harry continues.

“Proof could be only found on the perpetrator’s device and a few days ago I had access to Eric’s computer when he brought it in for a check up, since it’s been working too slow. As expected and told, I make a full check on every device in these cases and found unquestionable proof that Eric stole Y/N’s presentation through the virus.”

Oh lord. 

You watch as everyone on the board processes what they see on Harry’s computer and you can feel the switch in them towards Eric.

“Eric, let’s have a chat in my office. Now,” the CEO says and it’s definitely an order and Eric doesn’t try to go against it, just nods and follows him out of the room.

“Harry, why didn’t you tell me you were planning to do this?!” you ask as you rush up to him. The board members are leaving the meeting room, leaving the two of you alone. 

“I uh– I wanted it to be a surprise. Eric showed up at the IT department the other day and I got his case without him knowing so I could snoop around. Found the evidence right away so I thought the board should know what he did.”

“Why did you wait until they announced who got the promotion? This could have kicked him out of the contest right away.”

“I knew you’d get it,” he smiles shyly. “I had no doubt they would choose you, I wanted you to experience defeating him after what he did to you.”

To say you’re touched is an understatement. He didn’t just help you immensely to get this promotion, but also went out of his way to serve you justice. He has done more for you than anyone ever. 

You just know you can’t let the moment pass and ignoring the fact that you’re still at work, though no one is around to see, you close the distance between the two of you and press your lips against his.

This kiss has been hanging there for a while and you’d be lying if you said you have never fantasized about what it would be like to kiss Harry, but reality is a thousand times more magical. His lips are soft and warm, go so well with yours and once his first wave of shock passes he finally returns it and you melt in his arms. 

You had a feeling Harry was a great kisser, but the way he claims your lips just blows your mind. He is sweet and gentle but also demanding at the same time and if only you weren’t in the office you’d pretty much jump into his arms and let him do whatever he wants to you. 

Somewhere in the distance a phone rings and it breaks the spell, making you realize that you shouldn’t get carried away. 

“Sorry,” you smile, your lips barely just an inch away from his still. “I got… I just–Thank you. For everything you did for me.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he returns your smile and pecks your lips shortly one more time. “And I will always be here to support you.”

You might look like a lunatic as you watch the guy on the other side of the glass door of your office finish up the sign on the door.

Y/N Y/L/N, Head Of Digital Marketing.

God, you still can’t have enough of the sound of it even though you got the promotion two months ago. Okay, the first month you spent in your old job, teaching the ropes for your successor before you could start your transition into your new position.

Now it’s official and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Checking the time you sit back to your computer to finish up work for the day. It’s been one hell of a week, you’ve worked overtime three times so it’s great that today is finally Friday. You answer some more emails and check your calendar for the next week, making sure everything is settled.

There’s a soft knock on the door and when you look up your heart skips a beat, seeing Harry walk in, his backpack on one shoulder.

“Hey. Are you done?”

“Just one moment,” you smile and he nods, walking over to the window, patiently waiting for you to finish everything up. 

When you turn the computer off and look up at him, you notice that he is staring at you already.

“What?” you ask, packing up.

“Nothing, just… you look so pretty.”

You still haven’t gotten used to his compliments, though they always just keep on coming and coming. You love them.

And you love him.

Walking over to him you wrap your arms around his waist as you steal a kiss. Usually you try to keep the PDA out of the office, but sometimes he is just too hard to resist. Like now.

You’ve been officially a couple for two months, your first date after your big presentation was like a dream, Harry took you to all of his favorite spots in the city and then you just spent hours stargazing on the roof of his apartment’s building, he had a whole setup with a mattress, blankets and pillows, it was the sweetest thing ever, the best way to celebrate your win. Since then, it’s been endless dates, movie nights, trips on the weekend, you’ve been kind of inseparable. Well, outside of the office, because you try your best to stay professional at work. 

“What was that for?” he chuckles softly, his cheeks have that soft pink shade on them that you just want to kiss all over. 

“I’m just happy. That’s it.” Reaching up you fix his glasses before taking a step back and heading out.

Usually you just walk side by side to the elevator, but today you feel extra upbeat, so when you step into the elevator you gently take his hand and lace it together with yours and you can’t help but smile every time you’re in here with Harry.

Because he told you this is where he saw you for the very first time that day you overslept before your disastrous presentation. He was the one who held the elevator’s door for you. You were so disoriented that you didn’t notice him then and he likes to tease you about it, saying that he knew that moment he was into you, all while you didn’t even look at him. In return, you always bring up how you were the one kissing him for the first time. 

It’s crazy to think how much has happened between those two things or even between that morning and today. He was the quiet IT genius who you dragged into your madness. He is still a genius, but you’ve gotten to know the sides of him others can’t see and you love all of them, it just took you some time to open him up. To decode him.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[redheadspark]

may i have Benedict x reader from bridgerton with prompt #25

A/N - So cute for Benedict! Thanks for the request, anon!

Overflowed

Summary - Benedict knows how to make you smile

Warnings - Angst and fluff rolled into one :)

If there was one thing you loved about your life being a Bridgerton, it was how it was never boring or mundane.

It all started when you met your future husband, Benedict.  You both were attending art class at one of the most prestigious schools in the area, sitting side by side during one of the night classes and going through one of the lectures.  Benedict came from a wealthy family, prestigious family, which that had a major reputation for being well-loved and compassionate in charities and amongst other families.  You heard about his family for some time, though your family was not part of that circle since you were not well off.  In fact, you were attending the art school on a full-ride scholarship, not wanting to take it for granted and keeping your nose in your books and canvas.  But that night as Benedict plopped down next to you with his laptop out and ready to try, he looked over at you as you were handwriting your notes instead of typing it out.

He smiled, leaning over and saying in a low tone, “I like your handwriting.  It’s lovely,”

It was safe to say you are smitten with him from then on out.

You both sat together for the rest of the semester, learning about each other and becoming friends.  All of those rumors and stories that you hear about his family both seemed true and untrue.  He was kind, and humble in his upbringing and just wishing to be a better artist but not afraid to talk about his family and all of their endeavors.  He showed interest in you and what you liked about art, which pieces you liked and hated.  Although you were hesitant and wanted to keep your guard up when it came to letting in someone new in your life, Benedict snuck in always. 

Your first date was actually at the local county fair, Benedict asked you out after several months of building a friendship. It was surprising that he took you to a county fair, some of your other friends were already spewing theories about him taking you to a luxury restaurant or even on a yacht since his older brother Anthony did that with his now wife Kate. But not with Benedict, he would prefer to laugh with you and eat fried fair food and look at the street vendors.  

He made you laugh while attempting to win you a stuffed animal at the games, though you tried to warn him that they were rigged.  Benedict threw one baseball a bit too hard and almost broke the tent wall behind the plate that he was attempting to smash.  You laughed, the vendor scowling at him as Benedict took your hand and you both bolted before you were caught.  Benedict loved the sound of your laugh, he mentally would remember that moment for the rest of his life.  Throughout the night, you felt your walls coming down slowly with him and how he made you smile and giggle without you realizing what he was doing. Benedict was more down to earth than anything that night, then taking you to the local art show that was placed in the back of the fair.  

“I thought you would rather see something like this than at a fancy gallery,” He explained, you grinning from ear to ear as you both were gazing at the paintings and sketches from local painters and artist that were selling their art.  To think that he had all the money he would ever need, the reputation to be put in the pockets of people with power, but he simply wanted to be with you.

You shared your first kiss that night, his lips tasting of popcorn and soda pop.

Dating Benedict was both thrilling and intimidating at the same time. You were taken into his world, filled with wealthy relatives and charities that would sell dinner seats for thousands of dollars.  You barely had 1000 dollars to your name, let alone in your savings, but Benedict never minded it.  His own family was insanely sweet and kind to you, seeing how you made the artist in the family so happy and filled with joy.  Of course, they would tease you about his aloofness and his quirky nature, but you saw the same compassion and authenticity that was in Benedict in each of his siblings and his kind mother.  

However, you were a fish out of water with those dinners and events that you attended on Benedict’s arm.  The small talk with the fellow guests seemed forced and almost dry, Most of them were grilling you with questions about your own life, if you came from a rich family, or if you had any investments.  The pressure was a bit much at times, Benedict sensing it when you sat side by side during the dinners.  But the great thing about Benedict was that he would attempt to make you laugh during those tense moments, by any means necessary.  Comments under his breath, jokes that he knew were not great dinner conversation, his sense of humor was once again winning and making you come out of your shell a bit more.

Anthony could have sworn he saw you giggling and hiding your smile behind your napkin as Benedict whispered in your ear.  Anthony knew it then, you two were meant to be together.

Not everything was happy and positive with you two when it came to your love for one another. Because of your more humbled upbringing, your family bought of Benedict as dragging you along to use you.  It was hard to hear that from them, they all thought it was some kind of ruse and not real.  No matter how many times you defended your love for Benedict and told them constantly that you both were insanely happy together.  Even your ex was spewing hate on your relationship, which hurt a bit more since you and your ex were a bit sour together.  

But in the end, Benedict always came through by comforting you and making you feel safe.  He would constantly hug you and remind you that you were strong and adored, that you’d come so far in earning your degree and working at a gallery, fighting tooth and nail with your advantages and no leg up.  He admired you for that, and to see you feel defeated by others and their words broke his heart.  Plenty of nights were shared holding each other and talking through those bitter moments, it felt better to talk to him about it and get it off your chest than to hold it in.

And every time, Benedict would end up making you laugh and bringing you joy.  

“I think I found mummy!”  You looked up from your spot on the loveseat, holding an important letter in your fingers as your husband waltzed into the room with your 3-year-old daughter on his back and squealing in joy.  You beamed, watching your husband act like a horse and neighing as he was galloping around the small living room and your daughter laughing her head off with her ringlets dancing behind her.  

“Look, mummy!  Daddy’s a horsey!” She shrieked as Benedict was going in circles around your loveseat, you placing the letter on the coffee table and standing up with your hands on your hips.

“Quite the handsome horse too!” You teased, Benedict, slowing down and laughing as he stood in front of you.  Your daughter, Emma Violet Bridgerton, poked her head over his shoulder and you saw the same shade of green that her father had in her eyes.  She reached out to you with grabby hands, to which you scooped her in your arms to hug her tight, breathing in her sweet scent and feeling her arms around you.

5 years of marriage was no easy feat, but it was rewarding.  You both got married in the spring, then found a decent apartment in the downtown area that was close to the gallery you were now running and Benedict sold some of his work to get some money in your pockets. He would rather make money not by his name but by his art, using an alias with his art and not giving out his true identity.  It worked in his favor, his work being sold globally and making his alias a household name.  Your net worth grew, though tedious at times, but it grew nonetheless.  

So the news that you were pregnant two years into your marriage was a surprise, but the best kind since Benedict was over the moon at the thought of being a father.  Sure, he never thought about being a father so soon, but he didn't despise the thought of it.   Yet you were the one who was afraid of parenthood, mostly because of your own experience with your parents and how they were with you.  They were harsh, far too realistic, and at times brutal.  Did you want to inflict that on your own child?

“You are not your mum and dad,” Benedict reminded you one night as you two were lying in bed, you telling him what was festering in your mind and what you were fearing.  He had one arm around your shoulders, and his other hand was resting on your lower stomach while he was staring at you lovingly, “We are gonna love this baby and make sure that there is nothing but happiness in this home.  Plus, I bet you we’ll make mistakes here and there.  Especially me, I bet you I’m gonna put the diaper on the wrong way,”

You smiled softly, “More than once?” You asked to ask sheepishly, Benedict’s smile got wide.

“Are you kidding, over a dozen times at least!” He explained, you laughing as he went on, “And I’ll be singing to our baby with my horrible singing voice, you’re gonna hate it!”

As soon as Emma Violet Bridgerton was born, Benedict was over the moon in love with her.

“We were looking for you in hopes you were wanting to come get ice cream with us!” Benedict explained to you as Emma perked up and looked at you with her father’s eyes she inherited.

“Can we, mum?” She asked with hope in her voice, you eyeing her and then her father.

“Before dinner?” You asked in a joking tone, Emma giggling glee as you tickled her sides, “The scandal of it all!  What will the neighbors say!  We must get ice cream then since I have been craving chocolate!”

“Hooray!” Emma said in victory, the there of you walking out of the living room together as a happy family.  You left the letter behind, another disappointing letter from your parents who were reprimanding you for shielding your daughter from her grandparents.  But you were having none of it, you may have before when things were still tender with them. Yet not now, not with this life that was overflowing with happiness.  

The overflowing will never end, not if Benedict had anything to do with it.

The End.

May Prompt Session

[delirious-donna]

The Oral Lesson

an: the amount of time I spend thinking about these two men and how badly they might share a lover would probably see me on some kind of watch list… it’s more than time I put pen to paper, so to speak. This could be a series, maybe? Perhaps..? Depends on engagement (and I don’t mean likes alone!)

premise: It was meant to be a forbidden fantasy, one that would never become reality, but when you open your eyes to find the Hokage’s loyal guard dog on his knees before you, you know things have changed. However, it would be some time before you realise the enormity of this moment…

pairing: Hokage Kakashi x female reader x ANBU Obito

warnings: canon divergent (Obito always lives in my fics), NSFW throughout, without spoiling everything - its reader receiving oral, power play between the men, reader is married to Kakashi, reader is assumed curvy, touch starved is not the potential name of the series for no reason

There were no two ways about it, this had to be a dream.

The pinnacle of wet dreams that you would reminisce about for months, perhaps years, to come. Except the hand curled lightly around the column of your throat was all too realistic to be fantasy. Too familiar with roughened callouses covering the fingertips and edging the broad palm.

Kakashi Hatake—your husband.

His unique scent of oak-smoked wood chips, and that subtly sweet hint that you had never been able to give a name, filled your nose. At times, you would swear his scent reminded you of the scorched earth after a lightning strike, and it was true right now.

Your eyes flickered open, audibly gasping to see an ANBU shinobi sitting on his haunches before you. The mask was one you were all too familiar with, the painted whorls of the Hokage’s personal guard and you were privileged to know his true name… Obito Uchiha.

This couldn’t be happening. The teasing from moments ago felt like a lifetime passed and you squirmed atop Kakashi’s lap but were unable to escape. Do you really wish to? A small voice in your head said that you should, that what was being suggested was wrong but how badly you had desired this very outcome blew away those prim and proper reservations.

“Her pulse shot through the roof when you looked at her, Obito. I told you that she wanted this…”

You gasped to hear your husband speak about you like this, though the words were not untrue. The hollows of the eye holes shifted from deep midnight pits to blazing crimson orbs that seared your skin with tantalising warm fire without so much as touching you. His breathing was becoming laboured as he sat there, hands laying flat on his thighs in a position of submission.

Obito was only this composed and subservient for one man—your man—and it aroused you to see that there was a strain in his posture to maintain his stance. The threads of his compliance frayed beneath the weight of his desire.

“Kashi,” you breathed, voice barely more than a whisper though your gaze never left Obito’s. Your tongue felt thick and heavy in your mouth, the thin cotton of your dress smothering despite being lightweight and flimsy on your body. The heat of Kakashi’s body beneath you certainly didn’t help matters, nor did the intense fiery blaze you were captivated by.

He hummed in response. “Hm? Something to say, sweetheart? Weren’t you just finishing telling me that you’d let him put his hands and mouth on you if I agreed?”

With an embarrassed moan, you tried to hide your face in the crook of his neck. Mortified beyond belief that Kakashi would so openly admit the hushed words of your most forbidden fantasies, ones you never thought would come to fruition.

“Don’t be shy, my love. Obito feels the same way, although I guess you didn’t know that,” Kakashi drawled with such measured control that you were reminded exactly how he reached this position of power. Not many could act so calmly in high-pressure situations, but Kakashi excelled where others failed. Simply another reason to love him as much as you did.

Obito hadn’t said a word up to this point, not even the smallest sound escaped his mouth and you marvelled at his self-control. The metal arm guards that normally covered his forearms were nowhere to be seen, the same for the grey flak jacket you were accustomed to.

Now, he knelt on the floor in only the standard ANBU dark pants, a black sleeveless compression shirt that covered up to his throat and equally black gloves that ended halfway up his biceps.

You were endlessly fascinated by those biceps.

The way they bulged when his hands curled into fists only to flatten back into some semblance of submission seconds later. Your breathing became harsh watching the action be repeated in an endless loop. Without realising, you pushed yourself upright on Kakashi’s lap, your fingers curling into his forearm each time Obito made his own fists until you made indents with the edges of his nails.

Behind you, Kakashi smiled. “You’ve been rather quiet, Obito… don’t you have anything to say to my wife?”

“I… don’t know if that would be wise, Lord Sixth,” Obito muttered after a long drawn-out moment of silence. His voice was deeper than Kakashi, rougher around the edges and you could hear the forced formality enough to know it grated down his spine to speak this way.

The three of you had shared many casual moments, it was a given since the two men were friends and rivals from years gone past. Heavens, you had cooked for this man. Shared stories of their youth over bottles of wine. Patched rips in his uniform.

Kakashi clicked his tongue. “Lose the airs and graces, you’re not here as my guard. Speak freely and tell my wife how much you covet her.”

You gasped, turning your head to meet charcoal eyes filled with humour, but while you stared, you could make out a darkness that spoke of something else. A power play? It should make you feel vulnerable… used, yet it was quite the opposite.

To be desired by two powerful men, one the Hokage and the other the current highest-ranking ANBU captain in Konoha. Your beloved husband and his best friend, though both would try to deny such a claim. You were damp between your thighs, arousal pooling into the seat of your underwear and it warmed your cheeks until you were certain it was obvious.

“It’s true. I’ve wanted a taste of what you have for some time now. Not that I would have ever done anything about it!” He asserted, eyes never leaving your face whilst he spoke to the man at your back. “But if she is willing and you… are willing to share—”

“Under my supervision and guidance only. Take off the mask, let our pretty girl see you without the guise of an animal,” Kakashi interjected whilst pressing a kiss to your neck.

The animal mask fell to the side, skittering across the floor and out of sight. It left only the man. The scars on his face from years gone by did nothing to detract from how handsome he was. His lips were pleasingly plump, nose nice and straight and those eyes—those beautiful expressive eyes—were easy to fall into and lose yourself entirely. Even without the Sharingan activated, you were drawn to those dark, all-seeing eyes.

“May he touch you, sweetheart? Shall I teach him how to please you? Let us see if he can make you mewl as I can,” he hummed, nipping at your ear and drawing his hands higher to paw lightly at your breasts.

A nod was all you could manage, followed by yet another gasp of alarm when Obito leaned close and kissed the outside of your knee. He’d moved so swiftly that following the movement was impossible.

His touch was delicate, careful as if he worried you’d break if he were to show his true colours. With his assistance, you spread your legs until they bracketed the outside of Kakashi’s beneath you. The man in question gripped at your dress and bunched it higher until your underwear came into view.

Obito appeared transfixed and a vein popped in his temple from tightly he held his jaw. The muscles of his biceps bulged against the snug hold of his long gloves and when he raised a hand to touch your pubic mound through the cotton fabric, you sighed breathily and shifted your hips.

“Is she wet?”

His crimson eyes shot up to yours, searching for permission to reply, and you smiled kindly, a wave of affection forming in your chest. “Y-yes. Right here…” Obito stroked his gloved fingertip over the small damp patch.

“I’m not surprised, she’s been squirming ever since you came in. Perhaps, I should have arranged this sooner,” Kakashi mused quietly whilst leaning back in his chair so your butt was in the air. “Take them off her, please.”

“Kashi, I can…” You tried to free your arms to help shimmy out of the troublesome underwear but a bite to your collarbone silenced you. The sting of sharp canines elicited a slow pant from your throat, your sight growing hazy and before you knew it, a cool breeze played across your bare pussy.

The chill wind didn’t last, it was replaced by warm lips on the inside of your thigh, thick black hair obscuring your view and you clung to Kakashi at the shiver that rippled down your spine. His breathing was steady in your ear, the feel of a smile on your skin whilst Obito pressed kisses, which started gentle, to your plush flesh until they were messy and open-mouthed.

“You can be a little rough with her, she likes it… don’t you, my precious girl?”

Despite his continued presence and hold on your throat and breasts, you jerked in alarm when Kakashi spoke. The implication of the statement had you clenching around air and you heard Obito’s muffled groan when he too noticed.

“Mhm. Please. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something,” you managed after licking your parched lips.

Obito wasted no time in nudging his nose along your labia, smelling you until he couldn’t stand it any longer, and parted your folds with two thick fingers. You could feel all the blood in your body zero in on your core, skin becoming puffy in anticipation. Scintillating wet warmth sent a hiss through your clenched teeth, the path of his tongue along the full length of your slit arching your spine and forcing your heaving breasts further into your husband’s grasp.

The man on his knees glanced up at you through his eyelashes, careful to judge your every movement and noise for possible signs of distress but he found none. The strong muscle created wave-like patterns over your achingly empty hole and passed it to just below your pert clit. It was a sensation you were unaccustomed to, but it scratched an itch you didn’t even know you had.

Your eyes flickered shut, bottom lip caught between your teeth. You were ready to absorb every stroke and touch, every wet-sounding kiss and the melody of three people breathing in tandem, but Kakashi had other ideas. How he even knew your eyes had fallen closed, you weren’t sure, but he withdrew his hand from your chest to click his fingers. It was a soft click, enough to cause your eyes to spring wide and you tilted your head back to meet his hooded gaze.

“You really should watch whilst our guest eats you out, dear, it’s only polite. How is he doing? Make sure he knows what you want.”

His voice was a whole octave lower and you could feel the rigid length of his erection pressed firmly into your lower back. He was turned on by the act he was witnessing and that only served to stoke your fires higher.

As if to prove a point before you could speak, Obito licked across the surface of your clit for the first time. It was barely a kitten lick but it was more than ample to short-circuit your brain. Your brows knitted together, mouth falling into a deep oval of enthralment at being teased like this. In response, your hips undulated only to be trapped in two gloved palms.

“So good… I-I want more,” you admitted with your shuttered stare being met with a blazing inferno that looked more than ready to blow.

Kakashi licked over a fresh mark he’d not long finished sucking into your neck, the act of possession was not lost on anyone in the room and he chuckled softly. “Mhm, give the lady what she wants, Obito. I want to hear how she sounds coming apart by your hand and mouth.”

Obito sat back for a moment, his lips swelling steadily from his actions and skin coated in a thin sheen of your slick. Strands of his black hair stuck to his forehead and you reached forward to brush them back, warmed when he nuzzled into the heart of your palm. You missed the heat of his mouth on you, squirming around to find a position that would alleviate the ache growing rapidly in the pit of your belly.

“Lo—Kakashi, I want to fuck her with my fingers. Is that… uh, is that okay?”

The furious flush that washed over his cheeks was downright adorable, as was how he refused to meet your eye while your husband pretended to ponder. You knew he’d allow it, it was something you had discussed before this even beginning, back when you were certain it would remain a fantasy.

“Who do you wish to fuck with your fingers?” Kakashi prompted, the smile evident in his words and you whined in protest. It earned you a pinch to your nipple, enough to silence you.

Obito cleared his throat, swallowing down his pride in search of what he wanted above all else. “Your wife. I want to fuck your wife with my fingers. Please.” The nicety was forced, his nostrils flaring as if ready for a verbal argument but none came.

“My wife, that’s right. Do as you please, just make her cum nice and loud.”

This side of Kakashi rarely came out—the cool demeanour which spoke of calculating control. It made you weak at the knees, heart in your throat whenever he set those predatory eyes on you and you could well understand Obito’s reaction to the pulse of dominant power. He too was used to being an alpha presence given his line of work, and especially since he chose to become the Hokage’s personal guard. A decision he would never have made for anyone other than Kakashi.

The power play ignited the room with dense tension that felt like swimming through honey, and to realise that you were the object of affection, the reason this was even happening in the first place… you didn’t feel worthy.

However, you had no time to process these thoughts as the man on the floor took his permission with a sharp nod of his head and lunged for you. The poor little mouse was trapped by the jaws of a lion, but this feline was far from going to harm you. Instead, he was gentle despite how eagerly he moved.

His tongue bathed your tender pearl in his spit, lapping it incessantly until he changed directions and suckled you between his lips. You cried out, only to be blindsided by the intrusion of two thick fingers. Whilst you had focused on the mouth set to wring you dry of your bliss, you hadn’t noticed the dance of his fingers which collected your nectar to coat his gloves.

The warm leather rubbed soft friction into your velvet walls, stretching you just right. It felt wonderful, but you couldn’t help but wonder if it would feel more so without the gloves in the way. A small voice in the back of your head boldly decided that you would request his bare hands the next time.

Next time… Would there even be a next time to speak of? You didn’t know, but you could hope.

Kakashi’s breath fanned your wildly beating pulse, smearing open-mouthed kisses in between words of encouragement. His voice was your guide when you couldn’t keep your eyes open. When you did finally find the resolve to pry them apart, you found your hand tangled at the roots of Obito’s midnight black hair.

He was working you closer and closer to the point of no return, wet slurps mingled with your moans of more and the steady rhythm of his fingers fucking into you. His wrist rotated suddenly, fingertips brushing that deep area of sensitive tissue that your own fingers could never reach.

“Oh. Fuck… right there. Obito, don’t stop.”

Both men jolted at your keening declarations; Obito glanced up with his chin shiny with the gloss of your making, cheeks flushed from where your thighs had crushed around his head, and Kakashi groaned deep in his throat.

His slender fingers lowered the neck of your dress and repeated the action with the cups of your bra. He licked his thumb and finger and rolled your nipple between, drawing it out taut until you whimpered and struggled. “Ah ah, don’t thrash. Look down and see how well my guard dog is eating you out, beloved.”

You tightened instinctively, squeezing around Obito’s fingers, who doubled down on the pace he stroked you to. His nose ground at the hood of your clit, tongue swiping left and right then up and down. He was losing his restraint, pushing into you only to be met by the force of you rutting your cunt into him. A growl rumbled in his chest at being called a guard dog, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

Gods, you wanted to be full. To cum around more than just fingers and feel how they would react to you orgasming on their cock. Did you want your husband or Obito or… both? The thought alone tripped your orgasm into effect. You were barely aware of Obito pulling his wet fingers from your cunt to press his tongue into your fluttering hole instead, intent on catching every drop of your nectar and swallowing it greedily.

Kakashi cooed soft words in your ear, coaxing you through your high and stroking over your hair whilst you sobbed from the overwhelming and continued stimulation from the plush muscle digging into you in search of your slick. Those wet gloved hands gripped into the meat of your thighs, keeping you open and forcing you to endure what he wanted to give.

“Obito, enough. Let our little flower catch her breath.” You heard the command distantly, twitching and still seeking out grounding from your high.

Dazedly, you blinked and moaned anew at the expression written across Obito’s face. His cheeks were ruddy, lips swollen with blood and the lower half of his face streaked with a mixture of your arousal and his spit. His chest heaved with the struggle of retreating, every muscle in his body tense and straining and how badly you wanted to reach out and comfort him.

“Kashi, sweetheart, let me go to him?” You asked softly, turning so your words were in his ear, your lips on his neck. He regarded you with a look of unconditional love, eyes softened with affection and a smile decorating his lips which was a far cry from the cool power play of earlier.

He kissed you on the forehead, fixing your dress to cover your exposed breasts and lowering the hem. A lone finger traced the curve of your jaw, moving to brush over your lips and you caught him by surprise by pressing them to his and savouring the warmth of his mouth.

Kakashi was familiar with being touch-starved, as were you. It was something that helped to bind you together in those early days and you both recognised that Obito was also touch-starved and in need of a demonstration of how welcoming love and affection could be. He nodded, his nose nudging along yours and embracing you with delicate care.

“Show him how amazing it can feel. I trust you, both of you.” Kakashi added those final words loud enough for Obito to hear. His eyebrows pinched in confusion, but he had no time to assess the meaning when you slid from your husband’s lap only to be caught by Obito.

You wound your arms around his neck and settled your head right there in the crook. Twisting your fingers into the hairs at his nape, you pressed kisses to his shoulder until he finally placed his hands on your waist. His touch was unsure, body rigid with nerves and you could understand.

“Thank you, Obito… you made me feel more alive than I thought possible. Let me hold you, it’s okay.”

His chin dipped until his cheek rested on your shoulder and some of the tension drained from his body. It had meant to be a fantasy scenario of being shared but it would be so much more than that in time and you would discover this in the months to come.

For now, you calmed your racing heart and gave the man held in your arms a piece of you that was worth more than any orgasm. All under the watchful and loving eye of your husband, the master strategist…

Taglist: @angelic-muse @actuallysaiyan @angel-teeth @adharadotcom @whatshernameis @rookie98writes @basementqueercock @valleyxdoodles @snapemalfoy @fiestynatureweeb @mel-star636 @karleequinn @he-art-pulp @half-baked-biscuit

[wires-and-hellfires]

Hi could you do Alastor x Vox's sister that's staying at the hotel. Vox didn't know they were in hell and they are not a tech demon like him if this makes any sense.

Vox only realized it was his sister because unlike her brother who's good with tech she opposite like the best equivalent comparison I can think of is someone who's so bad at cooking that they could burn water.

Sorry for the long request you dont have to do it if you don't want to

look at how well you took care of me

Pairing: Alastor & fem! reader (queer-platonic), Vox & sister! reader

Description: Vox comes to the realization that he may have made a mistake... he can only hope it's not too late.

Warnings: The battle in episode 8, violence, murder, injuries, alcohol, Alastor as a warning in itself, Rosie being Rosie,

Author note: Hi hi! Thanks so much for the request!!! I don't write romantic relationships for Alastor, but I loved this idea so I hope a QPR is okay! The title is from "Whispers of Your Brother's Blood" btw. This was tons of fun to write and it kinda got away from me but hopefully it's okay.

Part 2 with a reunion coming soon!

Meeting Alastor was likely the best thing that happened in your entire life, including your time on Earth and in hell.

You weren't stupid. You knew how Alastor treated people, hell, how he used to treat you, and yet, somewhere along the way he showed you more kindness than anyone else.

You met through Rosie, which was likely the best way to come face-to-face with the radio demon.

Rosie found you when you first arrived in hell, and despite very obviously considering eating you, she saw potential of some sort. Perhaps it was your steady gaze or the way you gripped the broken glass in your bloody hand like a knife, but she took you in and showed you life in hell, even if you didn't share her... dietary choices.

When Alastor came for their weekly gossip session meeting, she introduced you two. At first, he seemed to disregard you. You didn't mind.

You did your best work behind the scenes anyhow.

Alastor mentioned a man from the Weapons District who had been speaking badly of Rosie, laughing that he was practically volunteering to be a guest on his broadcast. You could hear the static in his voice from your spot in an armchair across the room. He wasn't joking.

Which meant you had to act first.

Later that night, you bid farewell to Rosie with a smile, claiming you had errands to run, which to be fair, wasn't entirely untrue.

The man was easy to find thanks to Alastor's description. He reeked of cheap booze and tobacco, already drunk in the bar you tracked him to.

Sliding up to him with promises of "a good time" and more booze, he stumbled out of the bar after you, straight into the back alley.

He was dead within 10 minutes. A mugging gone wrong, they'd say.

How tragic.

During the next meeting between Alastor and Rosie, Alastor invited you to sit with them, much to Rosie's delight. And if his smile seemed a bit too knowing and he made a few jokes about drunks in dark alleys? Well, that could stay between the two of you.

And that's where it started.

Every visit, regardless of what you were doing, Alastor would ask if you'd like to join them. You three would chat over tea, sharing gossip and talking shit. You couldn't tell if he genuinely enjoyed your company or if he just found you entertaining, though you suspected those two things weren't too different with Alastor.

And when someone was a bit too careless with their opinion about Alastor in the bar you frequented one night? The radio demon didn't need to make an appearance, you would destroy that scum yourself-

The next day, Alastor paid you a visit personally.

In the parlour, he expressed an interest in your... skillset, laughing about how you worked in the darkness.

He offered you a deal for your soul.

Whatever care he had developed for you likely saved your life when you refused.

"Partners or nothing," you had offered. When his grin sharpened, you knew he was intrigued.

He was the flashy showman, broadcasting the screams of overlords and inspiring fear across all of hell.

And you?

You were the shadow on the wall, charming those who would be too stubborn or too afraid to usually talk, convincing them to give away the information you needed to build your empire further.

Those who knew of your existence understood the consequences of speaking out. The radio demon didn't take well to those who threatened you.

In a dangerously comforting way, it all felt far too close to your life on earth. Sure, you weren't killing nearly as much back then, but flirting for information, gathering secrets and destroying those who opposed you or those close to you?

Yeah, that was familiar.

Your brother would be proud, you thought.

Or maybe he'd be just as unappreciative as he was in life.

Half a decade at Alastor's side, the two of you taking the phrase "partners in crime" very literally.

As a show of trust, he once allowed you to help with a broadcast, as long as you promised to keep quiet. Admittedly, he quickly discovered your... less-than-ideal skills with technology, but you appreciated the thought nonetheless.

You relied on one another. You leaned on him and he would lean back.

And then he disappeared.

No goodbye, no warning at all, not even a body.

Just... gone.

After five years, you moved into an apartment in Cannibal Town, further isolating yourself. Finding work wasn't difficult, but you refused to use your skills for just anyone, and there were few people you trusted more than Rosie.

You arrived late one night, two years into working with Rosie. Setting the keys down on the counter, the dull buzz of static spread through the room.

Alastor was holding you before you even hit the ground, legs giving out in relief.

And yes, he wasn't the most physically affectionate demon, but for you?

For you, he could make an exception.

The hotel could wait until tomorrow. Tonight, he had apologies to make and a partner to comfort.

The next day, after Alastor pitched his ideal to the princess of hell, he brought in Niffty, Husk and you as help, and if everyone thought you were a soul under his command, well, it was easier that way.

However much you didn't want to admit it, you grew to care for everyone. Losing at cards with Husk, cooking lessons with Angel, sparing with Vaggie, watching musicals with Charlie, crafts with Niffty, failing at inventing with Sir Pentious...

And doing absolutely everything with Alastor. After his reappearance, you were reluctant to let him out of your sight, and the radio demon was all too willing to keep you close, even if Husk seemed concerned over it.

Which was probably why when Alastor tried to get you to leave during the night before the battle, you refused.

You could tell his desperation to keep you safe drive you out of the hotel by the static in his voice, his subtle requests turning to false threats and finally a plea that neither of you would admit to leaving his mouth.

"I'm a lot of terrible things, Alastor, but I am not disloyal. I will stand tomorrow with you and everyone else. You're not leaving me again."

And for the first time that you've met him, he lets it go. No further bargaining or attempts to trap you, just a sigh and "Whatever you want, my dear," with a tighter smile than usual.

The next day, everything goes to shit.

Alastor and Adam are fighting, with Alastor firmly kicking his ass.

Then Sir General Pentious yells to unjam a cannon near you, and while pushing random buttons and gesturing angrily, you scream, "I don't know how to use this shit!"

You don't see the VoxTech drone nearby recording everything for the Vee's future entertainment.

With your back turned, you cry out at the feeling of a spear slicing across your back.

The pain of the blow sends you stumbling forward into the side of the cannon, causing it to finally go off, turning the angel behind you into pieces.

The force behind the machine sent you crashing into the wall of the hotel next to Angel, who turned to you in shock.

At the sound of your pain, Alastor's focus breaks for only a second.

It's enough for Adam to gain the upper hand, breaking his staff in two and sending him to the ground.

As he fades into the shadows, he focuses on your energy signature and pulls you into the darkness alongside him.

Across hell, at the top of V Tower, Vox swore wildly at the screen.

What a fucking coward!

Alastor running away to die off camera had to be the biggest disappointment in his entire afterlife.

Scratch that, second biggest disappointment. Still a pretty big bummer though.

Saving the other views of the battle for later inspection, he and the other Vee's watched as Lucifer slammed Adam into the dirt in delight.

It was 3 hours after the extermination was cancelled that he found the footage of you and the cannon. Of you hitting the wall and disappearing, but you're not dead, you can't be dead oh please not again-

How long have you been in hell? He assumed that you had been killed permanently before he arrived in hell after you, or maybe you'd even been sent to heaven, despite your sins. If anyone deserved to be forgiven, it was you.

But no, no no- You'd been here, the whole time, in that stupid hotel with fucking Alastor-

Vox's fans speed up in an attempt to keep his whole system from crashing.

Your appearance had changed, sure, but he would recognize the sight of you cussing out technology anywhere.

He would recognize his little sister anywhere, even in death.

This was all his fault.

You and Vox grew up close. Always the two of you, there could be no one else, the sheltering of your parents ensured that.

Over time, Vox's mastery of technology grew, and so did his influence. When he needed someone he could trust to keep things clean and running in the background, you were the obvious choice.

He took you for granted, Vox knew that now. You had argued about something stupid before a job one night, he couldn't even remember what he said, only that he went too far. When you left to go do some "clean up" for a previous situation, he resolved to properly apologize for once when you got home. And to say thank you. He wouldn't forget this time.

But you never came back.

You were found shot dead in an alleyway by a couple of employees from a nearby bar later that night.

Did Vox send you on a job that was too much for you? Were you distracted from the argument?

Either way, it was his fault you were dead. His fault the one person he loved, his baby sister, lay in a casket.

It didn't take long for him to get put into the ground himself.

Arriving in hell felt like a second chance. He would find you and everything would be alright again.

And yet, you were nowhere to be seen.

The drones around the hotel (or what was left of it) circled, scanning for a sign that you were there. That his ignorance hadn't killed you for a second time.

On the screens, the clean-up of the rubble continued.

Vox twitched.

Vox hadn't prayed since he was a child in the front pews of the neighbourhood church. Back when purity was still an option and repentance was unnecessary.

Now, he didn't know who he was pleading to. Does God listen when demons pray?

Please. Please, let her live. Let Alastor have saved her. Let me make this right.

Please.

[relaxxattack]

can you rant abt hiveswap and how it changes the per-established alternian lore and not in a good way. i hold no stake in this topic but i love to hear about worldbuilding differences and people complaining

oh my god i would loveeee too. well first of all the obvious stuff with how they seem to think the beta trolls were the stereotypes for their caste (NOT TRUE... very very untrue but ESPECIALLY untrue with like. jadebloods goldbloods and purplebloods who seem to get this the worst somehow)

i hateeee how they made jades preppy THATS KANAYAS THING.. AND SHES EXPLICITLY *WEIRD* FOR THAT. they literally mention it like over 20 times how kanaya is sooooo weird for liking fashion and dressing well and then. oh no i guess every jade does that actually whoops sorry! ToT and god do i even need to go into the terrible prevalence of the idea that "jadebloods are typically/instinctively nurturing" when that is textually not the case?

goldbloods all having double horns is not that big of a deal tbh but its really funny to me that they made that assumption when sollux is like. actively called a mutant for most of the comic. "oh yeah hes mutated and weird and fucked up and some of his body parts are doubled (cue dick jokes here)". like that was a thing for sollux but they just decided to say "well actually. thats just how all goldbloods are"

most purplebloods having a "clowny aesthetic" is fine with me honestly since theres an actual Profession of being a subjuggalator and presumably lots of purples are going to be wanting to go into that? but alllll of them being full on juggalo cultists goes directly against canon. its like. the difference between american lawmaking and christianity. yes the separation of church and state is like nonexistent here. but just because american lawmaking is an enterprise controlled by christianity doesnt mean that All Politicians/Cops are automatically christian. and definitely not the same kind of christian?? there are probably agnostic clowns, or clowns who are only into cultism for the aesthetic. even reformist vs. orthodox clowns. they may all be upholding the same systemic white christian status quo, but they doesn't mean they all fit into that niche themselves. if that makes sense?

and of course i've already made a whole post about how i hate the idea that olivebloods are all feral little rogues, since that makes very little sense in canon.

i would really love to do that full stream of the hiveswap and friendsim games just. going through all of their alternian stuff and explaining my thoughts on it and how it relates to canon... i could go on and on about this stuff for ages and get into way more than just caste stereotypes. i think i would need to reread all of homestuck first to make sure i wasnt just pulling shit out of my ass and was truly studied up though, lmao

[miniwheat77]

Wild. (Rudy x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, MINORS DNI! unprotected p in v sex, (sorry if I missed any.)

*not edited*

When people think of Rudy they think of him as a kind, gentle, loving man. And they’re not wrong, not at all. He’s gentle, he’s a good problem solver. He’s good at soothing people when they’re upset in any way. He’s good at de-escalating situations, and he’s a phenomenal getaway driver.

Everyone knows Rudy is a family man, but he doesn’t talk much about his wife. Alejandro has only met her a couple of times and knows that she’s quiet and reserved.

But everything was about to change, because you were coming to work on base as a bookkeeper for Alejandro.

—

When people met you, they were surprised. You were stunning which made sense because of course, Rudy was good looking. But than, talk started around the base.

Alejandro had overheard very gross conversations between a few of his men, making them do push ups and handing out suspensions like candy on Halloween. He didn’t expect Rudy’s wife of all people to be such a big topic. You got plenty of glances from the men on base and it made you uncomfortable and Alejandro was furious obviously. They looked like a pack of hungry wolves and it was absolutely ridiculous behavior.

After about a month or so, everything finally calmed down. Everything slowly started going back to normal, but you were still getting cat called. They would say gross things to you, stare you down. They were ridiculous.

You were sitting in the mess hall, figuring out a spreadsheet and drinking coffee. Rudy and Alejandro were getting coffee, and you were getting frustrated with the conversations you were overhearing from the table near you. “Yeah, I’d hit that. There’s no way Rudolfo is satisfying that.”

That was your last straw. You let out a very exaggerated sigh, standing up and pushing your chair in. Which gathers a few glances from those around you. You stand there with the spreadsheets in your hand. Leaning up against the table with your arms crossed. “You know I’m sitting 5 feet away from you, I can hear absolutely everything you’re saying.” You say. This catches the attention of everyone, including Rudy and Alejandro who are waiting for coffee. “Yeah? So what. Nothing I said was untrue.” He shrugs. He smiles.

You send him a very fake smile.

“Listen.. Sergeant Ramirez right? There’s a reason that none of the women on this base interact with you. Because you’re a total creep who keeps talking about having sex with a married woman.” You laugh. “I don’t know why my sex life is sooooo interesting to you, but since you must know, it’s great. Rudy is satisfying me just fine, I’m a VERY happy wife. But thanks for your.. weirdly obsessive concern.” You step closer, your face only a few inches from his. “If I hear you say “I’d hit that.” One more fucking time, I’m going to hit you right in the jaw with my fist. Am I clear?” You narrow your eyes at him. He’s clearly embarrassed, nodding his head. “Great!” You say. Walking away from your table, down the hall. “Jesus Christ.” Alejandro laughs. “Didn’t realize she had such a fire in her.” Rudy laughs, bringing his coffee up to his lips. “Oh, no tienes idea del tipo de actitud que domino en el dormitorio.” He takes a drink of his coffee, trying not to smile when Alejandro nearly chokes on his. “Jesus Rudy!” He laughs.

“I’m gonna go check on her.” Rudy laughs. He’s not wearing his normal gear yet, still just wearing black jeans and a white t-shirt. Wearing that signature comfortable grey jacket he has. He opens the door to your room, seeing you looking over something. “Hey. You alright, amor?” He breathes. You nod your head. Turning to look at him. “Don’t let them get to you.. they’re just.. immature.”

“They don’t get to me, I just hate that they think you’re so soft.” You narrow your eyes, an evil grin playing at your lips. “The Rudy I know is far more devilish than they know.” You roll your eyes. “Yeah? That’s cause I have to do something to combat that fucking attitude of yours.” He crosses his arms. You roll your eyes. “Fuck you Rudy.” You laugh. “Sí, te gustaría eso, ¿no?” He smirks. “Quizás lo haría.” You reply. He snorts, locking the door behind himself. He pushes his jacket off, discarding it on the floor as he makes his way toward you. He cups your face, kissing you hard. Helping you pull your clothes off, only stopping to tug your shirt off. He reaches for his belt but you stop his hand. “Keep it on.” You breath.

He rolls his eyes.

He grasps your wrist, tugging you until your back is to him. His lips ghosting by your ear. “I forgot..” he chuckles. The fabric of his shirt burns your bare skin. “You like the way it rattles when I fuck you.” He whispers. “I hope you think about the way I fuck you anytime you hear something rattling.” He growls, pushing you down onto the bed. You whine as he pulls your hands behind your back, lining his cock up with your aching hole. When he sinks into you, you’re gasping out. Trying to take in a breath. Turning to look at him. He pushes your hips into the mattress, rutting his hips into you. “Fuck Rudy-“ you gasp. He’s breathing hard as he fucks into you, gritting his teeth. No matter how many times he was inside of you, he’d never get used to it.

He tries to keep you quiet as he rocks his hips into yours but he doesn’t really care who hears at this point anymore. You push your hips back into him, and he smiles as he moves away. “I wanna ride you.” You breathe. He smiles. He sees your chair, sitting down in it and you move quickly sit in his lap, lining him up with your entrance again, moaning as you sink down onto him. He rests his hands on your hips, looking up at you as you start to rock your hips into him. “Fuck..” he sighs. “You’re so fucking good at this.” He breathes. “Siéntete tan jodidamente bien mi amor.” He breathes, looking up at you through his eyelashes. His eyes are dark and loving as he looks up at you. “God, no wonder they think you’re so sweet, stop looking at me like that.” You breath, pushing down on his chest and rocking into him, raising up off of him more, taking more of him down. “Ah-“ he moans, a smile still on his face. “I’m not doing anything.” He mutters. “Yeah you are, you keep looking at me like you love me or something.” You giggle, a gasp leaving your lips as he thrusts up into you. “Maybe that’s just because I love you. Love that attitude, love your personality.” He breathes. “Love this perfect body you have, love the way you make me feel. And god do I love watching you put people in their fucking place.” He gasps. Thrusting up into you faster. You clutch onto the chair for dear life. “Me vuelves loca de mierda.” He gasps, tilting his head back.

You cup his cheeks, kissing him as he holds your hips, thrusting up into you. He can feel you getting tighter around him, and he’s fucked you enough to know that you’re close, so he stands up with you, lays you back on your bed, and hammers his hips into yours until your crying out his name. “Yeah, that’s it. Cum for me.” He breathes. “Muéstrame lo buena chica que eres.” He growls. You reach your peak with a gasp, eyes screwing shut and he pins your hips to the bed so that you can’t squirm away from him as he rides out your high. He grits his teeth, letting out a cry when he reaches his own orgasm. Not pulling out of you even when he knows he should.

He takes a deep breath. Pulling away from you with a sigh, moving himself to lay next to you.

When you make eye contact, he’s got that same look in his eye that makes you laugh. “What?” He rolls his eyes. “Nothing, I love you.” You breathe. “I love you too. Now Cmere.” He breathes, pulling you into him.

A knock at the door has you both going stiff.

“I think you’ve made your point, hermano.”

[sunnie-angel]

Hello! Can I ask Jason to be a reader who has difficulty expressing himself (Jason thinks they don't like him anymore)? And who is also an artist, who has Jason as his muse? and the reader is secretly painting Jason. Sorry, I got excited because your writing is really cool, but it's just an idea and English is not my first language, sorry again.

please don't feel like you have to apologize, your idea is so lovely and you've communicated it so clearly. i hope this is what you were looking for

falling in love with jason todd is one of the most incredible things to have ever happened to you. it also regularly leaves you tongue tied and so overwhelmed with emotion that you forget how to make the words travel from your brain to your tongue

jason does something kind for you and you get so tied up with all the ways your heart squeezes with joy and how much it means to you that you barely manage to get out a clipped thank you

jason says he loves you, that he'd like to spend the rest of his life with you and all you can manage is that's nice. and it's true, you can't think of a nicer way to grow old than by his side but you can tell from the way his face falls that it isn't the answer he wanted

he gets quieter after that, doesn't ask so many questions, doesn't go fishing for reassurance anymore. you can tell that he's worried, that he thinks that there may be something wrong between you. you just don't have the words to tell him how untrue all of that is.

but words have never really been your preferred method of expressing yourself. you bleed your feelings onto canvas, through paint and pencil. create pictures that words could never capture. you've never had a muse like jason, one that inspires so many feelings that you barely have time to get them all down onto paper. you've got sketchbooks full of him, not counting the many canvases you have.

it's difficult to let someone else see such a clear image of your soul, but you want jason to understand you. to see how much love there is when you look at him. so you let him into your studio. let him flip through all the notebooks and shuffle through all of your paintings. your fingers twist with nerves because this time its jason that isn't speaking.

if i loved you less i could speak of it more, you tell him, still borrowing from someone else's words because your own just don't feel good enough. but he knows now, how the love you have for him is still shouted out for the world to hear, he just needed to listen a little more closely

you can request more head canons as part of sunnie's soft autumn