#lets be honest if sexuality was a choice no one would choose to date them

[velvetsssapphic]

Im so gay that the thought of a man and a woman kissing immediately repulses me. Like honestly cannot see what the hell people see in them at all. whenever I see a straight couple the woman is always a walking statue of perfection and the man is just this.

[holybibly]

If there's anything in this world that can inspire me more than MATZ, let me know.

In the meantime, unholy thoughts of the day - Luxurious married alpha-couple MATZ are seeking a pretty virgin omega to date.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa had been together for a long time—powerful, hot, filthy rich—they were an incredibly sexy and powerful couple. It was clear to anyone who had ever been in front of them that they were madly in love with each other. But in their perfect world, there was one big but: they couldn't fuck each other. Because they were both alphas, their animal's natural instincts would go into overdrive every time things started to get hot and heavy. Kissing, touching, fucking—it didn't matter; they were ready to rip each other's throats out. So they were always on the lookout for the perfect little Omega they could fuck at the same time and keep around like a little sugar thing.

Omega matchmaking services have become very popular recently, so they decided to try their luck with one of the new luxury agencies. They look at over a hundred Omegas but still can't find one that meets their high standards and exquisite tastes. Seonghwa has always been very fussy, especially when it comes to the slime of his Omega. He loves getting drunk on pussy, and when he sticks his face in someone's pussy, he wants nothing but the best on his tongue.

Whether it was your uncharacteristic Omega taste of strawberry liqueur or your complete inexperience with sex, you didn't know, but either way, you weren't the Alphas' first choice. That was until the MATZs set their sights on you.

You found it hard to believe that such a strong and sexy pair would choose you for a date; it was both intriguing and unnerving.

Like all the Omegas before you, you have been invited to a private viewing at their luxurious nightclub. It's a very private and intimate place, and the room you've been taken to is velvet-lined and dimly lit, creating a highly sexual atmosphere, and to be honest, it bothers you a little, but not as much as the gorgeous couple in front of you.

The taller Alpha, Seonghwa, is sitting comfortably on the lap of the second Alpha, who is smiling predatorily and looking at you with dark eyes. As you can see from the profile the agency provided you, it is Hongjoong. A godlike, refined Alpha lazily caresses his partner's bare chest as he gives you seductive siren eyes, while the tip of his tongue slowly slides between his sensually parted lips.

They're both dressed in expensive fur coats and designer clothes, and you're wearing a simple dress and plain cotton panties, and as you watch, you can't help but wonder why they chose you. You hear the door lock behind you, leaving you alone with MATZ.

You don't know what to do, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other, clutching the hem of your dress.

Seonghwa gets up from Hongjoong's lap and slowly walks towards you like a huge cat of prey, circling you and devouring you with his eyes. He's so amazing, and you can clearly feel his dominating and sexual energy.

You squeal loudly as his lips press against your ear and his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You almost drown in the softest, most luxurious fur of his furcoat as your back is pressed against his chest.

"This is what's going to happen, sweetheart; I'm going to kneel in front of you, lift up that ugly dress, and run my tongue all over your cunt and if I don't like the taste of you, you're going to get the hell out of here. I like pussy, I like to lick and suck tight, sweet holes, and I only want to fuck the sweetest, stickiest, slipperiest cunt. Do you understand me?"

You nod shyly, afraid to say a word. Your condition amuses the other Alpha, who is currently lounging on the velvet couch like a king.

"Don't make that sweet expression, angel; it only makes me want to fuck your pretty throat. And honestly, I hope you will fulfil Hwa's wishes so that I can do that.".

[vivisviolets]

HIIIIII!!! omg I hope I’m not too late but I would really like to participate in your game if you’ll allow me😭 thank you in advance if you choose to respond to my ask, have a nice rest of your day <33

-m.a.🪲 (she/her)

sexuality: heterosexual; attracted to males

3 of my fav things: dancing, going to the movies, chipotle :)

MA🧀⭐️🍥

☆ The Emperor, The Hanged Man, Ten of Swords, Ten of Cups (bottom of deck) ☆ 20 (age/significant date), 2020, 666, Aries/Leo/Sagittarius placements (Sun, Venus, degrees, etc), Taurus/Gemini placements (Moon, rising, 4th/7th house, etc), channeled song I Gotta Feeling - Black Eyed Peas

☆ you're all good my dear!!!! so funny bc i was just wishing to see a film, we're def synced rn lolz. the first image I got is brown hair- something about this person's appearance is very attractive to you,- obviously, circumstances can change so I don't typically give specific physical details, but yea- there will be something about this person's coloring or something about their face that will make you go a little goo-goo eyed I'm ngl BAHAH (I'm also getting birthmarks/moles, and hazel/green eyes)- it's giving first love/crush with the boy-next-door type of energy, because he'll have an average appearance, but there will be some sort of sparkle in him that will trigger this "love at first sight".

the movie theater is coming through heavily- I think this will actually be significant, either you will meet this person during a visit there and you'll randomly strike up a conversation with him and swap contact info- or this will be a date you two will go on- either way, you will meet via you going out somewhere (maybe you've already met them!), and putting yourself out there w/out expectation but just for the thrill of the ride of socializing!- some details regarding this person's personality are that they are cool with talking with anyone (fire sun sign energy), he's considered extroverted, driven- but he may be a little "loose" when it comes to his goals, or his ability to empathize and think of others might be a bit flawed I'm ngl (he's maybe an ESTP/ENTP if either of you are interested in mbti types). I'm hearing people describe him as being a "player" and "difficult to read"- but those opinions are coming from intensely emotional people who burned themselves- maybe by trying to "fix" this person into being who they wanted- instead of seeing him as he is and letting him be him… and I think what will be different with you is that while you have feelings for him and interest, you're also wanting to get to know him, and just be around him- he finds you so cozy to be with~

he is the type to be "guarded" but also makes connections wherever he goes, "he's just chill like that"- because he likes a good time (like that Owl City song- but I also got that I Gotta Feeling song from 2009 lol- you guys might bond over early 2010s music because of how youthful this connection feels)- which is why some may have the impression/judgment that he doesn't have any commitment/substance to him- and to be very honest, they have a point… those two versions of self are not a good path to be on, and he needs to feel a re-connection to his emotions/emotional development.. and that's where you come in- DO NOT get the impression that you are here to "fix" this guy because that is not the intention- you are here to give this person the choice to become better. and I mean choice- because Spirit is telling me you are good at communicating in relationships, in fact this may be a divine test to help you to grow your strength in relationship communication!! I'm hearing this will become a "functional relationship", as in you both will gain help from the other mutually (with all the added bonuses of being in a cute relationship 🎀✨)

there will come a time when you will face this person and go "Look, this is what I am looking for and what I am interested in." and you'll leave it at that, and from then on, this person will be the one to initiate dates, "how was your day" texts, etc- this will be a test for him! but I believe he will choose you over and lean away from his habits. (btw Spirit is just reminding you to not hold your breath for anyone btw, all choices you make are the right ones regarding this situation~!). because you are giving him a door, an entrance into something that he's never had before. it's peaceful, not manipulative or emotional- it's a choice he has to make. it will trigger his inner desire to stick to something, instead of spreading himself thin/everywhere. he's gonna love you, truly, funny enough I think the same things you find physically attractive about him- he'll find the same things attractive on you- he loves your hair (regardless of what it looks like he finds it so "shiny" like a little fairy- and how it seems to absorb all the colors in the light on the edges of each strand),- he also loves the way your eyes look when you smile, your forehead, your cheeks- he loves your face a lot- I kept spelling "look" lol- but what he'll ADORE most is how you carry yourself, how capable and stable you are towards yourself and others- even when you're going through hard things ❤️⭐️. he values the friendship he has with you above so much, he you to say what you want to say, and will do what he needs to do to build stability with you ♡. *i hope this was helpful my darling ♡~ consider leaving a tip on my Patreon if you enjoyed, or follow and become a violet~ doesnt matter to me tho :>~ sending you on your wayyyy, bye bye!!*

[cevansbrat0007]

That One Time You Were Not Okay

Summary: Our Reader is always used to being a bad ass, but what happens when she encounters something that’s simply too painful and overwhelming to deal with on her own? Will she lean on her Man? Andy Barber x Black! Reader

Please Heed These Warnings: Creepy Asshole, Protective/Angry Andrew Barber, Traumatized Reader, Workplace Sexual Harassment, Attempted Sexual Assault, Cursing, Drug Use (mentioned), Strippers (mentioned), Violence, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt courtesy of @writer84​. Please read the warnings for this one. It leans towards the dark end of things. I don’t want to inadvertantly trigger anyone. Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. As always, feedback is welcome and encouraged. All mistakes are my own. Thanks for reading.

___

“I don’t think I can handle even one more day of this.” You mumble to yourself as you exit your vehicle and head into a nearby office building. “If he tries one more thing, just one more thing, I’m going to staple these documents to his face.” 

Yep, that’s right. It was pep talk time.

You clutch your laptop and folders to your chest as you enter the elevator and press the appropriate floor number. 

See, over the course of the last month, you’d been doing some freelance work for one of your boyfriend’s longtime friends and colleagues. At first, things had been fine. But little by little, the atmosphere had begun to...shift.

It had started with light touches, like his large body standing too close to your own. Or, a brush of his fingers against your bare knee. Perhaps it was his large hands resting just a second too long on your shoulders. His hot breath whispering in your ear in what you assumed he thought was a seductive manner. Or the seemingly innocent comments he made about your hair, your body, your outfit choices. 

He always seemed to choose his words carefully so that they couldn’t readily be...misconstrued. But you knew. Deep in your gut, you knew. 

Each time, you had politely shrugged off his advances, thinking them mostly innocent. He knew you were engaged to Andy Barber. In fact, Andrew was the one who had reccommended that Sylvester reach out to you in the first place!

But then, he’d grown bolder. He had started suggesting that you two work late. Or, burn the midnight oil as he put it.

“You know, a true professional would stay as long as necessary to ensure the job was done right.” He’d said to you just last Friday.”Let’s order in. I’m thinking a little Dim sum, hmm? And then we can put our heads together and come up with the perfect concept.”

You had declined, of course, not liking the way the hairs on the back of your neck had stood up. 

“I could’ve sworn that the client was always right, little dumpling.” He’d winked at you then.

“That’s an outdated saying, Sylvester. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with my loving fiance. I’ll see you next week.” 

And then you’d left.

To be honest, the man gave you the creeps. But how could you tell Andrew that without upsetting him? So, you decided to put up with it for as long as you could. And maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to see this project through.

Head held high, you confidently stride through the front door of his business, only to find it...empty.

That was..odd.

“Well, hey there, Y/N!” Sylvester’s voice booms from the entryway of his office. “Good to see you!”

“Um,” your teeth go to nibble your lower lip. “Where is everyone?”

Warning bells were going off in your brain.

“Oh! I gave everyone the day off, sweetheart. It’s just you, me, and our work.” You can tell that he’s pitching voice to arouse. “This way, we won’t be interrupted.”

Yeah, no, you smarmy bastard.

“You know what? Maybe I should come back tomorrow. And then we can -”

“Nonsense!” He waves away your concerns, before gently gripping your arm and guiding you inside his office. He motions for you to settle in and then sinks into his chair. “I have the feeling we’re going to be here for quite a while, so I took the liberty of pulling together a few takeout menus.” He flashes his pearly white teeth. 

“But before we get started, I feel like we should lay everything out on the table, Sugar.”

“Uh, in regards to the project? Because I thought that we had already established a pretty clear direction.” 

“No, no, no.” He dismisses you. “I meant in regards to us.”

You visibly blanch at his words, feeling your spine stiffen. “Sylvester, there is no us.”

“Well, not yet, but I’m thinking there could be. You have to know by now that I’m...let’s just say, interested.” 

“That’s great, but I’m not. So let’s get back to work, shall we?”

“Oh, darling.” He purrs. “You don’t have to be like that. Not with good ol’ Sylvester here.” The man in front of you leans forward. “Baby, I could take you to places you’ve never been before. I could send you to heaven and back.” He tries to take your small hand in his own, making you jerk away. 

“Dude. I’m engaged to Andy. To your friend, goddamnit!” You could not believe the audacity of this man!

“Oh my God, Y/N, honey.” His tone is laced with a hint of mockery. “Andrew. Won’t. Give. A. Shit.”

You feel your eyes go wide. What?

“He used to pass me his girls all the time back in the day. Did I ever tell you about that one time we shared a stripper in Tijuana? Granted it was like fifteen some-odd years ago, but still. He had just passed the Bar Exam, I had just launched my first successful business. So we bought some blow and -”

Feeling sick, you stand up. “I don’t want to hear anymore.” You tell him, working hard to keep your voice steady. 

Sylvester leans back in his chair, his arms going to rest behind his head. 

“You can take the ring off, if it helps. But I’m ready to sample all of that brown sugar you’ve been hiding under those tight pants and flimsy skirts.” He openly leers at you, not trying to hide all of the salacious thoughts running through his head. “I’m telling you, Andrew won’t care.”

“Well, I would like to think that he would. But even if he didn’t, I do.” You nod at him. “And that’s all that matters.”

He laughs then, a deep belly laugh. “Why on earth do you think I even hired you? Yeah, your work is good. But I wanted that ass, baby. I’ve wanted it for a while actually, and you’re going to give it to me. And after we’re through I’m going to order us some dinner.”

You shake your head “no”. Just back away, girl. Slowly.

“Y/N, if you want to add this body of work to your portfolio and, oh I don’t know, collect the damned check, you’re going to sit back down.” 

“Fuck you, and fuck this whole goddamned thing!” You spit back. Shit, you were going to throw up.

Sylvester rises from his seat and strides around his desk towards you. 

“Stay back!” You warn him. “I mean it!” You drop your things into another chair and pick up a paperweight. “Do not come any closer.”

“So, you like it rough, huh? Makes sense.” He shrugs. “You prude bitches always do.” 

You raise the hand clutching the paperweight high as fear, real fear, courses through your veins. Seconds later, he’s on you, grabbing at your arms, your waist. Squeezing roughly. And then you hit him as hard as you can.

“Ahh! You fucking cunt!” He cries out in pain as you grab your stuff and take off running out the door. You don’t stop running until you reach your car, before engaging the keyless ignition and bolting out of the parking lot.

You remain numb the entire drive home.

___

Twenty Minutes Later...

You don’t allow yourself to cry, at least not at first. You gingerly set your things on the counter and fetch yourself a glass of water. Which you proceed to stare at.

Then you walk to your office, where you shut and lock the door. And then you call your best friend.

And that’s when the sobs start.

___

“Oh my fucking God! Y/N, sweetheart! What the fuck, baby? I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Do you need me to come over? Because I will.”

“No, no. It’s okay.” You sniffle, scrubbing at your eyes. “I’m okay.”

But were you? Were you really?

“Honey, I know this is the last thing that you want to hear, but you need to tell Andy.” She tells you, her voice soft with compassion.

“But how? Sylvester is his friend! And -” You jump when you hear the sound of a door slam. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Andy was home early. Why today of all days did he have to come home early?

“He’s here!” You hiss into the phone.

“Who?!” She screeches. “That fuck, Sylvester? That’s it, I’m coming right now, Y/N. Let me find my shoes...”

“No, no. I mean Andy. Andy’s home early. And he’s going to know I’ve been crying. I can’t ever hide that shit from him!” You jump again when you hear him call your name. 

Fuck!

“Talk to him, Y/N. Just talk to him. Explain what happened. He’ll understand. And then he’ll go beat that prick’s ass. And if he doesn’t, then I will.”

There’s a knock at your door.

“I - I gotta go, babe.” You whisper.

“I love you.” She tells you.

“I love you, too.” You reply before ending the call.

“Y/N, baby. Are you in there?” He tries the handle, and even without seeing his face, you know he’s surprised to find it locked. 

“Uh, yeah. Hi - hi, Andy. I’m, um, just wrapping up some work.” You blot your eyes with yet another tissue. 

“Okay, fine. But why the hell is the door locked?” 

“Oh, uh, because it’s a super important project and I couldn’t risk being disturbed.” You bite your fist. That lie sounded, well, very much like a lie. 

“But your laptop and notebook are sitting in the kitchen...” Andrew Barber’s attorney voice was starting to make an appearance. “You know what? Do me a favor and open the door for a minute.”

“Sorry.” You call out. “Super busy, baby.” 

“Either open this goddamned door or I’ll take it off the hinges. It’ll take me ten minutes flat, and then you and I will have an even bigger problem.” He growls.

“Can you please just leave me alone for a little bit? I - I need to finish this thought, alright?”

Oh, why wouldn’t your Big Man just go away? Why did he always have to care so fucking much? And it was like he always picked the worst times to do it too. 

“You have five seconds to get your pretty ass up and open this door. After that, I’m going to get my drill. And baby, once I take this thing off, it’s not going back on.” He informs you, his deep voice dripping with authority.

“Five.”

Oh shit.

“Four.”

Holy fuck.

“Three.”

Your man never bluffed.

“Two.”

You launch yourself towards the door, wrenching it open before he gets to one. 

“It’s about goddamned time, little girl. What kind of game are you playing...” Andy trails off mid-sentence when he gets a good look at your puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You had yet to look in a mirror, but you were pretty sure that you could pass for Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer right about now.

“I’m having an allergy attack.” You tell him with a shrug. “I’m o- I’m o-” Fuck, why couldn’t you get the words out? Oh screw it.

“Andy, I’m not okay.” You throw yourself against his big solid chest and just give in. Your bewildered fiance picks you up and carries you into the living room where he nestles you on his lap, but not before snagging another box of tissues.

“I’m so sorry!” You sob.

“Y/N, baby girl. What happened?” His voice is hard and firm. “Tell me what happened. I need to know. Now.” He gently dabs your eyes with a tissue before holding it to your nose. “Blow.” Your man instructs you.

“Good girl.” He murmurs when you do as he asks. “Now, can you talk to me? Please? Talk to me so I can figure out how to help.” Andy snuggles you close and patiently waits for you to spill your guts.

“I don’t want you to hate me.” You whisper as another set of hot tears make their way down your cheeks. 

“Bullshit.” Your Big Man snarls. “That is impossible. Don’t you ever let me hear you say that again.”

“It’s...it’s Sylvester.” You murmur, staring down at your lap.

“Okay, and what happened with Sylvester? Did you hit a snag with the project or -”

You cut him off, forcing yourself to get the words out. “I think - I think. No, I know. He tried to hurt me today. In his office.” Andy’s body stiffens underneath you. To be honest, you weren’t sure he was even breathing. 

“He gave all his staff the day off -” you hiccup “- so it would just be me and him. And then he told me that the only reason he even hired me was because he wanted to fuck me. And that you wouldn’t care. He told me it was going to happen one way or another. And then he told me about Tijuana, and the stripper, and the cocaine. But I said no. And then he grabbed me. So, I hit him with a paperweight, one that was on his desk, and then I ran. I ran ,Andy.”

“And I know he’s your friend, and I’m sorry, but he’s been doing little shit for weeks. Little touches, comments about what I’m wearing, trying to get me to stay late...” You start crying all over again.

“Shhh, baby. Shhh.” He runs his big hand through your curls in an attempt to soothe you. “This is not your fault, okay? Not at all. While I wish you would have said something to me sooner, I get it. I’m not mad at you. I don’t hate you. If anything, I’m proud of you for getting yourself the fuck out of there.”

Andy pulls away slightly so that he can lift your chin and look you in the eyes. “Tijuana happened, sure. But the only one enjoying blow and strippers was Sylvester. I’ve never been a fan of cheap pussy.” 

You nod. “He told me to take off my ring. He told me it might make things easier.” The sound of your man’s deep growl reverberates through your entire body.   

“You had better not ever take that ring off. You hear me? Try it and I’ll superglue it to your finger.” He pecks your lips. “Now, let’s get you upstairs and into a bubble bath. And then we’re going to order some sushi. And tomorrow...tomorrow I’ll deal with my sad excuse for a fucking friend.”

“Will you join me?” You ask him softly. “I don’t wanna be alone right now.”

“Absolutely, baby. Plus, I need to check you for bruises anyway.” Rising from the couch he carts you up the stairs and makes good on every single promise.

Afterall, your Big Man never bluffed.

___

The Next Day...

Andy strolls through front doors of his former friend’s business. He bypasses the man’s secretary without so much as a glance and walks right into his office. 

He was apparently in a meeting with two other men. “Andrew Barber!” Sylvester stands up, his hand outstretched. Andrew just stares at it, prompting the other man to awkwardly pull it back. 

“So good to see you, man. Look, I wish I could talk, but I’m kind of in the middle of something so...” He gestures toward the two men sitting on the other side of his desk. 

Instead, Andy turns to face the two no-names. “Your meeting is over. Get out. Now.” Despite the rage boiling inside him, his voice remains relatively calm. 

Knowing better than to protest, they both pack up their things and head towards the door. Satisfied with their exit, Andy shuts it before turning the lock so it clicks into place.

“Look, my guy, if this is about your girl’s contract...” He raises his palms in the air. “I’m sorry, but she just wasn’t turning out good work. I’m sure she knows what she’s doing and that she’s probably just a little off her game.It can happen to the best of us.” Sylvester offers him a placating smile.

“Yeah? Is that why my girl has bruises up and down her arms? Is that why her hips are tender and you’re sporting that impressive looking nugget on your head?”

“Oh, this?” He points at the raised lump on his forehead. “Man, I had a little too much to drink last night and took a tumble into a door. I’m a clumsy fuck sometimes. But, as for your girl, I’m sorry to hear that she, uh, got hurt.”

The man was starting to sweat. This made a homicidal Andy happy.

“Yeah, well, apparently she got hurt because she refused to let you sample some of her ‘brown sugar’.” Andy saunters around the desk and leans over his former friend who is beginning to tremble. “You told her to take off her ring. That I wouldn’t care about sharing her. That you were going to fuck her, regardless of what she wanted.” His voice lowers to a menacing whisper. “Even after she told you “no”. Many, many times. I’ve got real problem with all of that, my guy.”

“Look, Andrew, that - that bitch came on to me and -” Andy grabs the mans head and slams it against his desk with all his might, enjoying the sound of the sickening crunch his nose made as it collided with the wood, as well as his muffled screams of pain.

“You tried to hurt, no, not just hurt. You sent everyone here home so you could try to rape my girl.” Grabbing him by the head once again, he slams the man’s head against the desk again. And then again. 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t care, Sylvester? Come on, you cannot be that stupid.” A sinister grin graces his lips at the sound of the injured man’s tears. Good. Fucking pussy.

Using one muscled leg, he knocks Sylvester’s chair over so that he’s sprawled on the ground. And then he levels the man with a hard kick to the stomach, followed by a solid kick to his groin.

His howls of pain sounded so sweet.

Andy crouches down next to him. “Let me make something very clear. If you even so much as look at my woman again, if you even breathe in her direction, I will do my damndest to make sure that that is last breath you take. And if I find out that you that you tried this with some other poor woman, I will make your life a fucking living hell.”

Pulling a cloth out of his pocket, he tosses it at the whimpering man. 

“Now clean yourself up. Pathetic bitch.”

And with that, Andy turns and walks out the door. All while whistling a jaunty little tune. 

END  

[rainboq]

Is it true that dontnod had their hands tied when it comes to the sexuality of their characters?

It's pretty blatantly obvious. 2015 was a very different time for writing queer characters in games, you have to remember what happened with FOX news and the first Mass Effect game. Games publishers weren't exactly in a hurry to court that kind of press attention again, and from what DONTNOD have said, Square was basically the only publisher who would let them keep Max a girl in the first place. Since I don't work at DN, and I don't crawl through their old interviews, I have to use the text itself to draw this conclusion.

When you look at the game as a text, it's very clear that it's a sapphic love story. Chloe's dialogue makes it very clear that she was romantically entangled, if not actually dating, Rachel, and her room is plastered with pictures of women in sexual or revealing poses, but she never states her sexuality. I don't know if you ever spent any time around queer people, but, uh... that doesn't really happen. The choice to kiss Chloe is also presented as a major choice, something that will alter the trajectory of Max's life, while Warren is... there. Literally the first time the player sees him, Max makes it clear that she doesn't want any physical contact (meanwhile she's constantly touching Chloe). His asking Max to the movies is presented with no special framing and doesn't even happen in the text, Max's time with him is extremely limited while we spend most of our time with Chloe, and the option to kiss him is only a standard dialogue option. You may not even get it.

Go back and watch the morning scene in episode 3 and pay attention to the framing, it's very clearly presented with the cinematic language of a morning after scene, Chloe even smokes in bed after Max gets up. Hell, go play the pool scene and choose the "bro killer" line. Hannah's delivery is perfect for a Max who is utterly smitten with Chloe, and is literally Max saying that she finds Chloe attractive, plus Chloe's disgust at Max's implication that she'd have an easy time dating a guy is very explicit. The entire central thesis of the story is Max and Chloe's relationship, framed around the search for Chloe's missing lover.

And yet... the only time we hear that Chloe loved Rachel is when she finds her corpse, and one of the deleted lines from the sacrifice Chloe ending is Chloe confessing her love for Max. Here's where we hit the "their hands were tied" problem. Editorially, they're only allowed to use that language and framing when there's grief involved. The only acceptable queer love story to a cishet audience is a tragic one, that's where the bury your gays tropes comes from. We never once get a frank discussion of sexuality, or even a flirtatious one like Alex and Steph have while playing foosball.

You can also see shades of this in Before the Storm, especially surrounding Steph. Pay attention to the language Chloe uses to talk about Steph being a lesbian. She never outright says the word, only that Steph kisses girls and that's cool. Honestly, I wish we could have gotten a whole scene of Steph and Chloe talking about how confusing sexuality is, and Chloe trying to parse her feelings with how empty her relationships with boys have been vs what she's feeling for Rachel. Instead we got... *sigh*.

I have to wonder what Life is Strange would have looked like if they had been able to write about the sexuality of their characters in an open and honest manner. As it stands, all we have is a bunch of very blatant queer coding that gets confirmed very quickly but nobody actually says the word gay. Max and Chloe walked so Sean and Alex could run, and I can't wait to see where the franchise goes next.

Maybe we might even get a trans protagonist. A girl can dream.

[xxx-wounded-angel-xxx]

Thank you so much for answering my "Poly!Lost Boys x Male!Reader with anger issues." Request, I appreciate it! I like the headcannons so I was wondering if you were okay in writing a fic about it? It doesn't have to be super long, or anything and I don't want to stress, or force you into writing something you're not wanting to do. I was just wondering if you were okay with it! I really like your posts btw.<3 🍃anon

Thanks! I wrote quite quickly your Hcs this morning in the hospital waiting room as my doctor was late, so I wasn't entierly satisfied with it. I hope you enjoy this longer fic I based on it! It was nice to take a break from the Eddie in Santa Carla fic I'm currently working and kinda stuck on. I hope you enjoy this 🍃anon

Looking through the thrift store, you were on a hunt for a leather jacket. Your old one was too used, and to be honest with yourself it was also gifted to you by someone in your family you did not likes and it was getting hard to stand this jacket because of it.  You saw a nice brown one, but after trying it, it happened to be too big. You looked at a dark one just to notice how it was ripped on a sleeve. Putting it down, you were getting ready to give up, and wanted to leave the choice of your future beloved jacket to your dear boyfriends. With the good sense of style they had, you were sure your boys would choose something really cool for you, and it would be a nice memory tied to the piece of clothing.

The boys were the greatest thing that happened to you in a while. You met them, one night on the boardwalk. You had already heard of them, of course, the four bikers terrorizing the boardwalk, always touching each other, exchanging sloppy kisses between milkshakes and cigs. You were admiring them. They were hot, and so confident in their sexuality… you wished you were like them. And one night, they noticed you. They came to you, and flirted, and somehow at the end of the night you had four very hot boyfriends. You were proud to call them yours, and were even more to be theirs.  “Yeah, you thought, I’m gonna let them chose my jacket.”

But as you were turning to leave the shop, a surf nazi bumped archly in your shoulder, and started to talk to you as if it was your fault. You saw red, and in a burst of anger your fist collided with his face. It was over, your self-control had left the picture. You saw yourself launching punch after punch at him, and dodging the surfer’s attack the best you could. But as one of his friends joined the fight, you saw from the corner of your eyes blond curly hair joining on your side. You could always count on Marko to have your back when it came to fight.  The fight turned into general fight, Lost Boys against Surf Nazis, until you were separated and kicked out of the boardwalk by security guards.

Now calmed down, you knew that you could say goodbye to the boardwalk, at least for the night. You silently followed your boyfriends where they were heading to, feeling bad to have completely ruined the night with your impulsive behavior.

As you sat on the sand close to your boyfriends, by the bonfire they had gotten by making its precedent owner scram, you saw your Paulie turn to you. “You okay Sugar? You’ve been quite silent. They didn’t hurt you too bad, did they?” Worried, Paul started to look you up and down, looking for an injury.

“No babe, I’m okay. It’s just… I’m sorry for ruining the night” you blurted. It was now Dwayne’s turn to be worried. “What do you mean, love? I don’t get it”

“If I didn’t start this stupid fight with this scumbag, you guys would not have to join in and we would not have been kicked out of the boardwalk for the night. If it wasn’t for me and my fucking anger issues, we would be having a fun shopping date…”

You did not get to finish your sentence as David interrupted you. “We’re not mad, you know? And we would certainly not love you less for what you did. So, what, you have anger issues? Have you seen Marko? The babe starting so many fights despite his height…” This time, it was Marko who cut David, by an outraged loud “HEY!”, hitting the platinium blond in the shoulder. “See?” David said with one of his usual smirks. “Marko has a short temper yet we still love him. Don’t worry about that kitten. But we sure would be less worried if you were like us…” “Not yet, David. But one day…”

Feeling better about yourself, you let yourself go in Paul’s embrace, and fully relax as he sloppily kissed you. Your boys knew about your anger issues, and yet they still loved you no matter what. Finally, it wasn’t that bad of an evening.

Read on AO3

[ohheyitsokay]

trials

this takes place in my ‘poly frontier’ universe

pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco “Catfish Morales, Ben “Benny” Miller and a female reader

wordcount: 2.1k

warnings: all fics in this series are 18+, poly relationship, domestic, romantic, and sexual intimacy. strong language, angst with a happy ending

summary: this one is a Santi story - he tries to bring another girl into the relationship, and learns instead how much he loves you

it wont be everyone's cup of tea but I felt like it was an important part of the story

note: don’t hate Santi! I think this is a pretty normal, and the best sunsets come after rain

>>

Santi was the first to branch out. He didn’t mean to – hated himself for it a little, but he did.

This – whatever this is, it’s a ticking time bomb, he told Will. One of has to do something before it breaks all of our hearts.

It was a lie.

They both knew it. But he had the money and the looks and the confidence and he was just hurt enough by the sight of you asleep in Ben’s lap one afternoon that he just… let it get to him.

Brooded and boiled until he was overcome with false righteousness and pure selfishness.

He didn’t look you in the eyes when he told you he was going to try to get another girl. It wasn’t that he was leaving what you all had, just that he deserved a chance at whatever he called balance. His gaze in the other men’s eyes was too bold – the look of a desperate man, terrified of being hurt so causing it on his own terms.

You nodded numbly, shocked in spite of yourself, scolding and scathing voices in your mind telling you not to be selfish. Not to be greedy.

He deserves more than sharing.

Tucking yourself into Frankie’s arms, you tried not to glare or cry and only failed at the latter. Because it’s not the dating another girl that hurt, really it’s not. Polyamory is hard, and it was always an open option. What hurts is his blatant choice to ignore the relationship his has with you, specifically, that he’s ignoring everything you and him have worked for, built with love and time and care.

Rubbing gentle hands over your skin, Will and Frankie and Ben shared looks as Santi stalks away.

Frankie corners him in the garage the next morning. You had slept between him and Will the night before, but they had all felt you toss and turn, all spent a fair amount of time staring at the ceiling themselves. His dark eyes are an insecure that shoots into Frankie’s core – it’s a look he knows, has spent months overcoming. He swallows hard, his words dying in his throat, and he simply shakes his head.

It almost breaks Santi in two, the first moment one of his loves betrays the damage he’s done, but he tells himself there’s no going back.

“Better now than later, when our parents hate her or –”

Frankie’s look stops him and he flinches away.

Will is at the bar he chooses without an invite, knowing where he’d be without having to even ask and they both try not to think of you at home with Ben, probably dripping flames. Santi wonders if it hurts more to watch him flirt, or to do it, but neither of them say a word to each other. In spite of it all, the respect his judgement, respect his choice, and that hurts too.

It feels strange to have others looking him up and down and to look back, smile with lust void of love and soak in the attention.

Before he succumbs to it, Santi wishes Will would come over, slide his hand around his neck and… stop respecting him so much. It would pull him back, but since he doesn’t, the thought dies under the burn of cheap alcohol.

-

She’s lovely, really, graceful like a cat.

Santi has kept her from you all for a few weeks now, keeping his dignity with distance. But now she’s here, in your home, and you should be jealous but instead you just smile sadly at her, and slip off to the kitchen.

He likes… coffee, dark roast, with just a clump of raw sugar. You’re stirring it when you realize they followed you, hovering at the door. The ache of it is less than it was before and they’re happy together, so for his sake, you sit down across from her.

She’s kind, friendly. Knows the gist of the situation, tells you she’ll go at your pace.

And it crashes into you, how he’s pinned you at a time when know one else is home, offering her up to you like a plea, a child who used the superglue to make a gift, never mind the fact that his hands are both stuck to it and burning.

It feels reasonable to have another woman around, to make the numbers less absurd, to – to help you. Her smile is a little shy and she takes you hand and she looks at Santi with such adoration that a knot loosens in your chest involuntarily.

She doesn’t joke about it, any of it, and you almost wish she would. It would be so much easier to hate her if she was shallow, or stupid, or something but she’s not, and when she smiles you almost think you could be friends. You wonder if you could make it work, like they do for you.

Ben and Will come home early, stepping in like the angels they are, planting themselves solid at your side like trees with roots deeper than they are tall. When Frankie comes home, he takes the spot of the two of them as their eyes draw Santi into another room.

“What the fuck, Garcia,” Benny is as hurt as you are by it all, maybe more.

“Shut up Miller.” He’s glaring, filled with venomous satisfaction at how well the two of you have been talking.

“Cant you see it’s for the better?”

There’s silence – neither of them agree, too confused by him to respond.

“Don’t you ever wonder,” Santi tries again, knowing they’re listening because they love him too.

“No.” They spoke in unison, which makes Will roll his eyes. Neither of them hesitate, and something in Santi cracks.

-

You poke holes in the bottom of a styrofoam container with a plastic fork. She’s long gone now, but the date still lingers as you poke at your leftovers and try to unwind each moment of the date like strings of spaghetti.

On the surface it had gone well, you had thought you had fun until you felt a burn of tears under your eyelids.

Closing them you sigh, breathing like you practiced, gentle tides of love and logic washing over a feelings you tell yourself are selfish.

When you open your eyes, your Santi is standing behind her chair, and you almost cant breathe.

He went away for two weeks to help with a mission, and he’s here, one side of his mouth higher than the other. You want to kiss it, but you smile instead, and say, “You missed her by a couple minutes, sorry,” and actually mean it.

“I caught her in the parking lot,” he sits slowly, carefully, and when he reaches for your hands it’s almost tentative. It makes you blink again, how his eyebrows are bending. For the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t understand what it means, cant predict at all what he says next.

“I broke it off,” his eyes are in yours.

“I don’t understand,” you hear yourself say.

Santi searches for the words, like he had them but cant make them come out of his mouth.

“She’s not you,” he says. “I want you.”

You realize with a start that his hand is trembling, and he says your name in a way you’ve never heard before – like he’s terrified. That’s how badly he wants this, wants.. you. There’s no question in your mind, your eyes answer him.

It’s messy, not like a movie, the way he tugs you up and up and into his arms, the shudder of his broad shoulders and he buries himself into you as much as he can.

Like a hazy, blurry dream, your arms find their way around him, holding him like he’s fragile, another first.

He doesn’t say You’re enough for me, or You deserve the world, or anything dramatic.

Instead he says, “Can I buy you dinner?” And, “I’m sorry,” and “It’s been too long.”

And he says “I love you.”

-

He already asked the others, calling them each on his drive to you. Asked like he was young, if it was okay. Santi knew none of them had fallen in love with her, because even he hadn’t. But he had to ask for their permission as much as yours, to try to win you back.

They were more guarded than you, wary of his passion.

It takes time, and work.

He stays up later than he should talking with Benny about everything and nothing, hands nervously putting together snacks. When the younger man holds you, Santi teaches himself to join, to be held and hold you both. It feels good, which feels like guilt.

He works on that, too.

Frankie and him never talk about it. For weeks he thought his oldest friend had understood, more of less forgiven him without a word. One day they’re out for lunch, and his eyes flicker at the waitress, tucking her hair behind her ear. When he returns his gaze to the man across him, his blood runs cold. It’s been years since he’s seen furious determination brewing in Frankie’s dark, caring eyes, but it’s there now and he hates it. It takes discipline, to watch how he’s perceived as closely as he watched his intentions, but he does it.

It was easier than winning Will back.

“How long has your logic been shit?” Has your heart been in the wrong place this whole damn time?

“I just got on the wrong path, Ironhead.”

“Like hell you did,” his eyes were ice. “You let that happen.”

It would’ve been easier if he punched him. This wasn’t a kiss and make up moment either. The work ended up being long talks while you forced them to drive to pick you up when your car broke down the town over. Forcing words out being so honest it hurt, until has heart and throat felt raw. Making Will understand it was out of his own fears. Showing him how he was fixing it.

And weeks of letting with watch him again, eyes not missing a single touch or flinch or moment between you all. Actions to reinforce his words.

It hurt, but infinitely less than feeling distant from you all to begin with.

-

Will and your Catfish bring it up with you, one sunday afternoon as you tuck yourself between them and let their hands trace your skin.

“How are you doing?”

“I don’t know, Will. Better, I think. I missed him.”

Frankie places a row of warm kisses down the side of your neck.

“He missed you too. It’s Pope, he’s... he’s scared, love.”

“I don’t know if I believe that, yet.”

Ironhead grumbles at your confession, his big fingers squeezing the meat of your thigh.

“You gave him another chance, but you’re holding back. What does your gut say?”

“Unreliable - I’m in love with him.”

His head pops up and he kisses you before half-smiling. Frankie’s hand finds one of his, and they share a look.

“Can we tell you, querida? What we’ve seen.”

“Some objective evidence,” Will kisses you again.

“He loves us.” Another kiss. 

“You.”

-

It’s quiet as Santi flips through his latest files. The evening air is cool, and he should be getting ready for bed but you’re not home yet, and they’re all milling about waiting. You texted them how tired you were, what an awful evening you had.

“It should just be another couple of minutes,” Will says, and Frankie checks his watch. Ben wanders to the kitchen and they can hear him mixing hot chocolate.

When you walk through the front door, they fold you in their arms. Santi holds back, doubt still nagging at his mind. You let him back in, let him take you don't dates, but you didn’t fit together any more. He was running out of ways to communicate with you.

But you slump over, gently pushing aside his files and placing his laptop away before replacing it with yourself. Molding into him you sigh, and almost instantly fall asleep.

You’re small and vulnerable in his arms and the weight on his legs feels like trust.

The air in the room shifts, lighter, more breathable than it’s been in months. Adoring, proud eyes watch, and he wants to cry.

For the first time maybe ever, he’s sure that everything is going to be okay.

-

The bar was mercifully quite that evening, and if made it easy for you to find your love. A small, familiar feeling tugged in your gut as you made your way over to him, eyes on the waitress who was leaning over him with unwholesome intentions.

Then the feeling settled, and was replace with a warmer feeling. She was putting down a tray that had your order on it, and Santi was thanking her, distracted checking your message on his phone.

“Hey, handsome,” you said, the warm feeling spreading throughout your chest. “Can we actually get out of here?”

His brown eyes were big, dark lashes catching the low lights as he stared at you. Somewhere in his mind, he thought too protest because your drink just got there, but the words stuck on his tongue. 

“Yeah... yeah of course, baby,” He signaled for the check before standing to draw you in his arms. Saying no to you had never really been an option. 

The two of you barely made it to his truck before your hands were all over each other. You liked the feel of him, pinning you against the metal frame, the desperate way he kissed you.

Pope was saying something about how you looked so fucking sexy, needing him so badly you couldn’t wait. You couldn’t concentrate on them. 

“Pope,” you said against his skin, sliding your hands under his shirt. In response, he only made a soft groaning noise and increases his urgency.

"Santi," you tried again, before your own gasp cut you off.

"Santi - fuck - Santiago!"

The look he gave you was that of a dog, when you held the treat just out of reach.

"I'm yours," you said, pulling his head in to press against your forehead. "And you," you kissed him, hard, fingers gripping his beautiful curls. "Are mine."

"Fuck," you could feel his heartbeat, his pulse, he was pressing into you so hard, like he wanted to blur where he ended and you began. You knew he understood.

"I am," he said into your skin again and again that evening. Not selfish position, a promise and a proclamation: "I'm yours."

"I'm yours."

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @pbeatriz

poly frontier taglist:

@grogusmum

[nextdoor-neighbors]

Sweet Revenge

Request: hi babes! ur writing is amazing! i was wondering if i could request a fred x reader where reader and fred get into a fight over fred being flirty with other girls and the next morning reader is in a very revealing outfit and makes all the boys (harry ron george neville and even draco if you’d like) jealous all day and ignores fred and u can choose how it ends!

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Some sexual content near the end

“Nice one, Y/N!”

“Yeah, that was awesome!”

You smile proudly at your patronus. It was the first time, after hours upon hours of trying both during and after Dumbledore’s Army meetings, that you were able to successfully produce your patronus. You stand with Ginny and Hermione, who are as excited as you are. You turn to see if Fred, your boyfriend, had seen your success. After all, he was the one you’d been complaining to about not being able to do it, so you hope that he saw you finally succeed.

Instead, you’re met with Fred standing across the room, surrounded by the Gryffindor Chasers and a few other girls, who are all giggling at something he said. You watch, your heart dropping, as he sends a wink in Angelina Johnson’s direction before going back to whatever story he was animatedly telling them.

You can’t believe him. There’s no way you’re going to be able to produce your patronus again - at least not now, with anger building in your chest. Fred is a very friendly, very flirty person, and you’ve known that, since before you started dating. And it’s not that you ever expect his attention all the time, but to flirt openly with other girls with you in the same room?

You turn back to Hermione and Ginny, who noticed, too. Both girls have a scowl on their faces.

“That git,” Ginny grumbles, “I’ll hex him, if you want. Actually, I don’t care if you want me to or not. I’ll do it anyway.”

“No, no, Gin, it’s fine,” you say, “I’ll talk to him after the meeting.”

“Let me know when you’re done. I still want to hex him for being an idiot.”

Ginny’s protectiveness of you, despite you being a year older than her, makes you laugh a little. The two of you were friends before Fred and you started dating, so naturally, the relationship came with lots of threats and warnings from Ginny to Fred about what she’d do to him if he ever hurt you. But still, you want to approach this situation on your own.

The meeting ends soon afterwards, and you go to leave the room without waiting for Fred, the image of him flirting with the group of girls burned in your memory.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!”

You keep walking, your stomach twisting as you hear his footsteps growing closer.

“Hey,” Fred repeats as he reaches you, his tone breathy after his run down the hall. You don’t even look over at him.

“Hi,” you say shortly.

“Are you upset?” he asks, “Were you not able to produce your patronus again? You’ll get it one of these days, I know-“

“No, I did it,” you interrupt, your tone still flat and uninterested.

“Y/N, that’s great! Then why are you-“

“You were just too busy flirting with other girls to notice,” you finish, cutting him off again.

He goes silent, and you risk a glance over at him. You know that he knows exactly what he was doing, and that’s what makes you so upset. But now, he looks slightly dumbfounded, as if he didn’t think it would affect you.

“And so what?” he finally says, turning to look at you, a hard look in his eyes. “It’s not like... It’s not like I was doing anything wrong, y’know, like, like... like cheating-“

“Really?” you ask, stopping in your tracks in the middle of the hallway. The two of you took the longer path back to Gryffindor Tower, so you really hoped that nobody was going to come down this way, too.

“We are in a relationship, Fred, in case you forgot!” you continue, your voice growing louder as your anger spills out, both at the initial flirting and now, at his horrible response. “You can’t just flirt with other girls! It’s still shitty to do!”

Fred just looks at you for a minute, his face mirroring your anger, before turning to walk away.

“I was just telling them a story,” he says, defensively, “And I’m sorry I missed your patronus, but I can’t be paying attention to you every second, okay? I have other friends to talk to.”

“I’m aware, Fred. I’m glad you have plenty of friends to talk to, but talking to them is different than openly flirting with them! And with me in the same room? Why would you do that?”

He doesn’t respond as you approach the common room. He grumbles the password to the Fat Lady, and you follow him silently into the common room. It’s mostly quiet besides a few younger girls sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace and giggling to each other.

“Look,” Fred says, quietly, turning around to face you. “I’m sorry I made you upset. I just think that you overreacted-“

“No, Fred,” you reply, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible so that the girls on the couch don’t overhear, but in your anger, it’s extremely hard. “You should’ve thought about what you were doing first. Now, I’m tired, so I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

You walk past him, up to your room, not bothering to stay and hear him say goodnight in return or turn around to look at him over your shoulder. You’re too frustrated with him right now, and you already have a plan for tomorrow to get back at him. You know you shouldn’t, and that it’s petty, but if you’re completely honest with yourself, you think it’ll be a little fun.

Once you’re up to your room, you give a very short rundown of the situation to Hermione before going to bed. It takes you a while to fall asleep as you toss and turn, thoughts of Fred flirting with the other girls and then defending himself with that firey look in his eyes filling your head as you drift off

-

You wake up early the next morning to properly choose your outfit. Unfortunately, it’s a schoolday, but you can work with that.

You choose your shortest skirt and tighest shirt, making sure to leave the top few buttons undone. You’ll fix yourself up before class, but you have all of breakfast to work on your plan. Next, you sit yourself down on your bed, pulling up your knee-high socks. You then let your undone tie rest over your shoulders and pull on your robe, letting it hang open to display your outfit choice. You actually look pretty good, if you do say so yourself. You’re normally so careful to wear your uniform properly at all times, and even on weekends, you usually still wear outfits that cover you up a good amount, so you’re sure to catch some eyes today.

“Good mor-... Oh. Wow.”

Hermione looks you up and down a few times before meeting your eyes with a slight smirk.

“You’re trying to get a reaction out of Fred, aren’t you?”

You smile. “Do you think it’ll work?”

“Absolutely.” Hermione looks you over once again. “You’re going to drive him mad. Let me get ready and I’ll walk down to breakfast with you. I want to see this.”

You know that most of the boys would be down at breakfast by the time you and Hermione got there, because that’s how it usually goes, which works perfectly for your plan.

Once Hermione is dressed and ready, books tucked under her arm per usual, the two of you head down to the common room. Ginny sits, perched on the armrest of one of the chairs, waiting. When she sees you and Hermione approaching, she hops off the armrest. Her eyes widen at you and she whistles.

“Something tells me this new look has to do with Fred? I’m not complaining at all, but you better fill me in.”

You explain the situation to Ginny as the three of you make your way to the Great Hall.

“Hermione’s right,” she says, “Fred’s gonna go crazy with all the boys who are gonna be checking you out today. Girls, too.” She winks at you, which makes both you and Hermione laugh.

Your eyes go right to the Gryffindor table as you walk into the Great Hall, where you see Fred, sitting between George and Ron, with Harry next to Ron, and Lee Jordan next to George. It’s a perfect setup, because there’s three spots waiting across from them for you, Hermione, and Ginny, between Neville and Dean Thomas.

The only one from that group who looks up as you walk in is Harry. His eyes widen as he looks at you, and some water drips down his chin from the goblet he was drinking from. You can’t help but laugh.

“Might have to take a few notes from you to get Harry’s attention like that,” Ginny teases quietly as the three of you approach the table. You take the middle seat, across from Fred, and Hermione and Ginny take the seats on either side of you.

“Good morning, boys,” Ginny says, loudly, interrupting their conversation.

All eyes turn to Ginny, but immediately drift over to you. You watch as Ron’s eyes drop to your chest, and he blushes deeply before looking up to your face again.

“Lookin’ good, Y/N,” Lee says, loudly, to which George elbows him, probably because he can already feel the anger radiating off of his twin.

You look at Fred, finally, who has his jaw set as he looks you over, but he stays silent.

“Thank you, Lee.” You smile sweetly at him before dropping your eyes to grab some food.

As you bite into a muffin, you look back up to George, who’s already looking at you. He raises his eyebrows at you when Fred isn’t looking, as if to say, what the hell are you doing?

You simply wink at him in return, just as Fred glances over at you. But you avoid Fred’s eyes, looking back down to your breakfast.

Once you finish eating, you stand up.

“I have to head back to my room to get my things before class. I’ll see you guys later.” You smile at everyone, again avoiding looking at Fred. You know that you’re pissing him off, especially by ignoring him, but it’s almost like a game now.

“Y/L/N-“

You turn towards the voice as you leave the Gryffindor table to see Draco Malfoy walking towards you. Now that’s a surprise, and if there’s anything that’s going to make Fred completely lose it, it’s Malfoy talking to you.

Draco looks you up and down as he approaches, and you keep walking out of the Great Hall, nonverbally telling him that if he wants to talk to you, he’ll have to follow, which is exactly what he does.

“You still dating Weasley?” he asks, a smirk on his face. You roll your eyes.

“Yes, I am, and if you’ve just come to insult my boyfriend to me, I’ll hex you. Again.”

Panic flits across Draco’s face momentarily as he, no doubt, remembers an incident between the two of you a few months prior. Soon enough, it’s gone, and his smirk is back as he shoves his hands into his pants pockets.

“No, I just came to say that when you inevitably get sick of him and all of his equally annoying siblings, you can come find me.”

“You just insulted him. Not only him, but his siblings, who happen to be some of my best friends,” you point out, more annoyed than anything. You’re not actually going to hex him (this time), but it’s fun to see his reaction when you threaten it.

Draco scoffs. “Considering what I could say about them, annoying is practically a compliment. I’m just saying-“ He looks you up and down once again- “I’m sure I could show you a much better time than Weasley.”

You roll your eyes again as you approach the stairs that will lead you up to your common room. “Keep dreaming, Malfoy.”

You part ways from him, heading back to your room and grabbing your books for your first few classes. You look at yourself in the mirror as you fix up your uniform. As much fun as you’re having, you also don’t want house points taken away.

When you head back down to the common room, you’re surprised to see that Fred isn’t there. You’d been expecting him to follow you and give you some sort of reaction, and you were slightly disappointed that he didn’t. Although, that’s probably because Ginny is chewing him out at the breakfast table. You wouldn’t put it past her to call him out in front of everyone, which was something you’d always admired about your best friend.

You know you won’t see Fred again really until lunch, so the morning drags by. You sit by Neville in Transfiguration, and he gets slightly flustered when you strike up a conversation with him.

Surprisingly, Fred isn’t at lunch, which worries you a bit. You ask George where he is, and he just shrugs and says he had something to do, which is completely unlike him.

The afternoon drags by just as the morning did, and instead of going straight to dinner after last period, you make a beeline for the common room, hoping to catch Fred. After not talking to him all day and getting attention from every boy except for him, your anger at him has subsided for the most part, and now, you just miss him. Of course, you’re not going to let his actions from yesterday slide, but you want to talk it through with him.

Thankfully, he’s in the common room with George. They’re on the couch, talking amongst themselves about products for their shop. Fred looks up at you as you walk over, but you can’t read his expression very well past the furrow of his eyebrows. George glances up and quickly closes up the suitcase they’d been holding between them, whispering something to Fred before leaving.

“Hi,” you say - the first thing you’ve said directly to him all day.

“Hey.” He looks extremely good: he’s in his school shirt still, the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, displaying his freckled forearms. His hair is messy, just like it always is after he runs his fingers through it when he’s stressed. He chews on his lip as his eyes scan your body. Your robe hangs over your arm, so you’re left in your tight shirt and short skirt.

“I know what you were doing today. It’s because of what I did yesterday, right?”

He doesn’t sound defensive, as you expected him to. Instead, he sounds... defeated, almost. You walk around the couch to sit next to him, taking the spot where George was. Fred immediately reaches out, resting his hand on your knee.

“Yeah,” you admit, “I wanted to make you jealous.”

He waits to respond as a group of fourth year boys walks through the common room to leave. Once they’re gone, he says,

“Well, it definitely worked. Nobody could keep their eyes off of you. And it made me realize...” He lets out a deep sigh. “How stupid I was yesterday. You were right. You, and George, and Ginny, and everyone else who called me out on it. I’m really sorry, princess. I hope you can forgive me.”

You know Fred well enough to know that he really means it. And while you forgive him, you can’t help but want to rile him up again, just for fun.

“I forgive you,” you reply. “Does this mean you’re not mad about Malfoy flirting with me and telling me that he can show me a better time than you can?”

Fred reacts instantly, sitting up straighter and his hand tightening on your knee. There’s a glint in his eye that you recognize very well.

“He did what now? That little-“

He cuts himself off, and instead, a smirk forms on his lips as he grabs you, and in one swift movement, pulls you on to his lap. Once you’re on his lap, your skirt hiking up your thighs, he grabs your hips tightly and leans towards you, lips against your ear.

“As if he - or anyone who was checking you out today - could make you feel better than I do.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words and at his body pressed against yours. He may piss you off sometimes, and you may piss him off in return, but at the end of the day, he’s yours and you’re his. And you wouldn’t want it to be any other way.

“Oh yeah?” You grind down against his growing bulge, and he lets out a low groan. Everyone else is definitely at dinner by this time, so the two of you are safe with the common room to yourselves. You smirk at him.

“Then show me.”

[aftokrvteira]

night out (m)

pairing: eren yaeger/jaeger x fem!reader warnings: nsfw, drugs, cheating, sexual intercourse. word count: 2.8k

summary: you and eren go out as friends because your boyfriend is out of town. it’s all pretty innocent but there’s some unresolved sexual tension between you too. why not solve it?

“You look nice” he says when you close the car door. You smile, putting the seatbelt on, feeling proud of your wardrobe choice. It’s the first time he’d said something nice to you since you met him.

“Thanks, it’s a new dress” you say, getting your phone out of your bag to text your boyfriend and tell him you’re about to go to bed. You feel guilty for lying to him, but you know how he is. He would’ve lost it if you knew you were going out with Eren, even if it was an innocent outing because you two were just friends. You were bored and wanted to do something new with your saturday night. It wasn’t like you didn’t like to text with your boyfriend while he was away visiting his family but you were always the kind of girl who liked to keep her weekends to party. That’s why you texted Eren and you were pleased to see that he delivered a positive answer.

“Oh, so I’m the first who gets to see you in it?” he had that shit-eating grin you despised so much. It makes him look an asshole. Like a very attractive asshole. You roll your eyes and he laughs “I’m sure he’ll like it.”

“So, what do you want to do?” you ask, putting your phone away “I was thinking of having a couple beers at the bar that’s near the school and then go to a club that I’ve dying to go to” Eren says that anything would be fine and he starts driving to your first destination. He lets you choose the music and you immediately play your party playlist, feeling excited about it. It’s been almost a month since the last time you had the chance to go out. Having a boyfriend was kind of restraining.

“So... for how long will he be away?” Eren ask. You’re busy moving your shoulders to the rhythm of the music and didn’t bother to stop to answer.

“He’ll be back next friday” you say “He asked me if I wanted to go with him but... I don’t know, I don’t think I’m ready to meet his family” Eren raised his eyebrows “What? We’ve been dating for like six months” he laughs again and shakes his head.

“I was really surprised when you texted me, to be honest” he shrugs “I’ve heard that you’ve been quite unavailable these days, last time I ran into your friends and they told me that you weren’t feeling okay”

“Oh, so you ask about me?” you smile, wiggling your eyebrows at him “It was movie night. I had my period. Jean always stays at my apartment to take care of me”

“I see” Eren stays quiet for a second and then just turns up the volume of the music. This doesn’t bother you because your playlist is pure fire and you have this feeling of freedom that seemed dormant inside of you. You just want to go out and have some fun. It will be your secret.

When you two walk into the bar you feel like you’re home. You’ve always loved that saturday night feeling, where everyone is relaxed and excited for what’s to come. You grab Eren’s wrist to guide him to your favorite spot: right next to the terrace window. It has a nice view, it’s closer to the bathroom and to the bar and waiters have to walk by that spot quite often. It had everything. You sit down and immediately ask for a round of beers.

“So, Eren... tell me about your life. I haven’t see you around lately.”

“We’re close to finals week, I’ve been trying to save my ass from spending another summer at school” he answers, taking out his lighter to open his beer. It’s a trick that amuses you, almost as much as the way the neon lighting makes Eren’s inked forearms look so enticing. Without a word he takes your beer and opens it too, with the same trick “Not all of us can be ass-kissers.”

“Fuck you” you say, rolling your eyes, taking a long shot from your beer. It tastes bitter and it’s amazing. You realize how long has been since you had a beer. Eren smiles and clinks his bottle with yours.

You like hanging out whit him. Eren’s funny and is always on board with your ideas. He’s also a jerk and a fuckboy but that was the reason you kept you distance from him when you met him in high school. He was your crush at the time and you were not the only one. You decided it was best to just be his friend and avoid being hurt. Maybe that’s why your friendship has lasted up until now.

The more beers you drink you start to feel more and more relaxed. The music is fire and you have that tingly feeling on your skin that warns you that you’re on the verge of being tipsy. You even dare to share a smoke with Eren, passing the cigarrette over the table in between sentences. The conversation is interesting and fun, Eren knows exactly what to say to make you laugh and you’re enjoying yourself to the fullest.

“I’m ready to go to the club” you say “I’m drunk enough to dance.”

This time, when you’re walking out of the bar you feel Eren closer to you, you feel his warm hand on the lower part of your back, guiding you through the groups of people at the bar. You like the sensation so you just let him be. it’s fine. He’s your friend, he’s trying to keep you from falling or tripping.

When you get to the club you touch up your make up and decide to leave your jacket in his car. You feel the cold night air against your warm skin and the sensation causes chills to run down through your body. You wrap your hands around Eren’s arm while you two wait to get inside and can’t help but notice the muscles and the tattoos. His sun-kissed skin is smooth and by being close to him you get a hint of his musky scent, a mixture of smoke and cologne that you find quite intoxicating. His tattoos are dark and mysterious, all of them designed by himself.

Eren’s POV

While we wait I’m trying not to think inappropriate things about her. Since she took her jacket off the first thing i noticed was that she wasn’t wearing a bra, judging by the way her nipples perked up through the fabric of her white dress. It was a cold night, it was normal, but she was being so...tempting. And I knew it wasn’t because she wanted to be, it was just the way she was. Always a temptation, always forbidden and out of my reach. She was right there next to me, attracting the gazed of almost every guy we walked by and completely unaware of it. She just wanted to go to a club and dance and I was the one she chose to do that.

It was the first time I was actually grateful for Jean’s decision to go the fuck away for so long. That motherfucker was and idiot but he was also very, very lucky.

I place my hand on her back again and I lick my lips when I give her a gentle push to make her walk inside the club when our turn came.

We’re suddenly surrounded by colorful lights , loud music and a sea of people dancing and drinking. I look at her and her eyes lit up. She grabs my hand once again and immediately drags me to the dance floor. She quickly catches the attention of a waiter and asks him for a round of shots for both of us. He came back and he have me the tiny glass with a smile.

“Let’s have a good night” she says and drinking all of it in one go. I did the same and as the burning liquid went down my throat an idea came to my mind.

“Have you ever tried ecstasy?” I ask, leaning down to speak in her ear. I can smell her sweet perfume. She shakes her head but she doesn’t seem disgusted by the idea. I can’t help but smile “You wanna try?”

“What?”

“I have some” I say, taking out the pack of cigarettes and shaking it in front of her. She keeps quiet for a few minutes. I know she’s thinking about it, that she’s thinking about him and what he would say. I narrow my eyes and, to encourage her, I take out one of the pills and show it to her. It’s small and discrete. I place it on my tongue and swallow it. “To have a good night.”

She doubts it for a moment but then just sighs and smiles at me, extending her hand. I take the pill on my hand.

“Say ‘ah’“ I murmur. She blushes but still, sticks out her tongue for me and the sight of it gives me enough to think about the million sinful things I want to do to her. I put the pill on her wet pink tongue and she swallows it.

“Let’s do this.”

***

I don’t know how much time has passed. Everything seems blurry and distant for me. My attention is reserved just for her and the way she’s dancing. Her skin is glistening due to the sweat. The straps of her dress hang loose on her shoulders. It’s like the music is adapting to her and her moves and I’m hypnotized by the way she moves her hips, how her hands caress her torso and her legs, going up and down.

I place my hands on her hips and it’s like my fingers are burning the fabric of her dress under my touch. I would kill to feel her skin against mine. She seems to like the contact and I go ahead, caressing her waist and abdomen, adapting to her rhythm. I couldn’t help but sigh when she starts to rub her ass against my crotch. She’s getting closer, dancing against me, placing her hands over mine, guiding my fingers all over her body. She lets me touch her breasts over her dress and I squeeze them. I hear her moan and I can’t help it anymore. I make her turn around and as soon as our eyes meet, I kiss her.

Your POV

You know that this is wrong...Isn’t it? Eren’s lips feel amazing and taste amazing. His tongue is soft against yours and you can feel how his hand is in your ass, reaching down until he grabs the hem of your dress and just lifts it and gives you a spank. It’s dark enough and you like it. You like the way he’s touching you, as if he was desperate. You can’t think of anything else but him.

When he pulls apart from the kiss his eyes have a dark spark and you shudder, realizing how wet you are all of a sudden. He takes your hand and this time he’s the one dragging you through the sea of drunk people to the back of the club. He ignores the people in the bathroom and just shoves you inside on of the stalls, locking the door behind him. Almost immediately he kisses you again, pressing you against the plastic division. He bites your lip and you moan, loving the roughness of his touches. You’ve always loved it rough. 

“Suck my dick” he whispers in your ear, before licking your neck. You don’t ask questions. You manage to kneel in front of him and he’s already unzipping his pants and pulling them down. Soon enough his erection is right in front of your face and your mouth water from the sight of it. It’s long and hard when you take it in your hand. The tip is red and swollen and it’s already shining, covered in pre cum. You sigh as if you were falling in love with his cock before giving it a lick from the base to the tip. Eren groans, leaning back and you smile. You give him a couple of strokes before taking it in your mouth. It tastes sweet for some reason and you giggle because of it. Some tears start to accumulate in your eyes when his dick reaches the back of your throat. Saliva drips down from your lips and your chin as you suck his cock. Your eyes meet his and you just love the sight of his face. He’s biting his lip and some loose strands of brown hair are framing his features. Eren looks hot and filled with desire and it’s an image you want to keep in your brain.

“Do you like it?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. You nod and feel his hand caressing your cheek. Suddenly he tugs your hair to keep your head still and starts to fuck your mouth, thrusting harder every time. You tremble when his glans hits the back of your throat and tears run down your face, mixing with your saliva. You place your hands on his ass as you close your eyes “Oh, god you’re amazing... Such a cock-hungry slut... I could fuck your little face forever.”

He pulls away to let you breathe and you smile at him. His words are turning you on to a level you didn’t know you could. He tells you to stand up and pushes you against the wall once again.

“Turn around” he commands and you obey, immediately bending over because you know whats coming and your pussy throbs just with the thought. He lifts your dress to your waist and pulls down your panties. He gives you a spank and another, making you moan. He pulls apart your folds and you hear him make an amused sound. You turn to look at him over your shoulder and he smiles at you. “You’re really wet... Is it okay if I fuck you like this?” You nod, biting your lip. You don’t care about anything in that moment. You just want Eren to fuck you.

No warnings beforehand, he shoves his cock inside of you, filling you all the way up. You gasp. His hands are holding your hips firmly as he thrusts in and out of you, only letting go to spank you or to pull your hair. You barely have time to adjust to his dick and you can’t help but moan.

“Eren...Eren, fuck, go faster!” you plea, placing one hand on the wall to support yourself from falling. You bring the other one to your neglected clit, letting out a soft purr when you start stimulating it. It’s so swollen that you shiver every time you move your fingers against it. Your walls clench around Eren’s dick and he groans, moving faster and deeper. “Oh, fuck, I want you to cum inside!”

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” he asks, out of breath “You want me to fill you up, slut?”

“Yes! Yes!” you moan, your fingers moving frenetically over your clit, bringing you closer to the edge “I’m yours, Eren!”

He gasped and dug his nails into your skin, giving you a last thrust. You feel how his hot seed fills your insides and the feeling alone makes you cum loud and clear. He pulls out and you feel semen dripping from your cunt to your leg. You keep massaging your clitoris, smearing his cum all over your pussy, still riding your orgasm. Eren pulls up your panties and gives you a little kiss on you lower back. You sigh and turn around, leaning against the wall. You can’t help but smile, even though you’re coming down from your high and guilt’s starting to build up.

Eren comes closer and gives you a kiss, a deep kiss but you pull away, ashamed. He sighs and rubs the back of his neck.

“So...”

“This can’t happen again” you say and he nods. Its the first time you see him act this awkward. “We won’t talk about it, okay? This never happened.”

“Sure. It’ll be... our secret”

You kept quiet for a few moments, standing in front of each other. You wanted to blame it on the drugs and on the alcohol but...to be honest, you were into it. You enjoyed it. You’ve never orgasmed like that before, not even with Jean. You tried to compare them but it was impossible. Jean was nice and gentle, he tried to show you how much he loved you every time you had sex. Eren was like a predator, rough, dominant. Did you really had to choose?

“Do you want to go back to my place?” you ask. Eren gives you a confused look. “It’s still early. I have beers. I don’t like to be alone.” you notice that he’s thinking about it. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah”

“Let’s go then.”

[lubdubsworld]

Better Man .

~~~~~~~~~~I wish I could forget, when it was magic~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung x Oc 

Rated 18 +

Post Divorce, Getting Back Together, Second chances, Angst.

 Chapter 1    Chapter 2   Chapter 3 

Chapter 4

How do you know you’re ready for kids? 

Is it after you’re financially stable enough? After you’ve partied enough? Got all the wildness inside you tamed? After you’ve grown sick of the freedom that comes with youth and what it implies ?  after you’ve grown tired of empty conversations that lead nowhere? sharing ubers with people you barely like because you’re too drunk to drive? When you just crave the comfort of people you truly love instead of strangers who grind up on you ? Or perhaps   when you start preferring silence in the evenings to the thrumming bass in some dingy nightclub? 

None of these really. 

The truth is you’re never ready. 

Hoshi had been planned. Taehyung and I had done our homework, studied everything from my ovulation cycle to the entire catalogue of some expensive breast pump , new in the market . Everything had been researched and planned and perfected : the wood the crib would be made of, the color he wallpaper in the nursery would be and the kind of diapers and wipes we would use. 

But it still threw us for a loop....how unpredictable he was.

How unpredictable the pregnancy was. 

What I wanted : Home birth. Mid wife . Taehyung by my side holding my hand.

What i got : Preeclampsia, a baby born six weeks early, Taehyung frantic on the phone in the middle of the night as he took his private jet from Japan where he was shooting a commercial. The pain of being induced into a labor that lasted for 16 hours only for my body to give up half way through. 

A c section that left a scar and numbness that hadn’t faded even now , after four whole years. three weeks in the NICU....tears and terror after learning that the  baby in the incubator right next to Hoshi’s didn’t make it. Aching to hold my son but being forced to stare at him through the glass, wires and tubes wrapped around his tiny torso. 

And through it all, Taehyung. 

Stronger than I had ever seen him. Calm and collected as he watched me pump milk for our baby, barely managing a few measly drops of it after thirty minutes of trying . His arms around me, holding me up as I tried to fight the sheer agony that came from my stitches, tried to stay conscious for the baby. Watching him carefully pour the milk into a sterile bottle to take down to the NICU . 

Falling in love with him, over and over and over again throughout the day as he did  everything for me. 

Hoshi was loved and cherished , not just because he was an expression of our love for each other. 

But a reminder of Taehyung’s love for  me. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ He’s growing out of all his clothes. I’m going to take him shopping tomorrow.”  Taehyung commented, watching Hoshi get on his tippy toes to point out the pastry he wanted from the display case, while a star struck cashier stared at Taehyung . 

Taehyung’s body guards were right near the table and while a crowd of people stood outside, none of them came too close. I was used to the attention that came with Taehyung and his celebrity status. 

“That’s a good idea. I have a couple of meetings tomorrow regarding the Christmas campaign and I may not be able to make it on the weekedn either. Is it okay if I pick him on monday evening?” I asked, cutting into the blueberry scon on my plate.

“How about I drop him off at your office. Save you the trip.” 

I hesitated, before nodding. 

“I spoke to the lawyer....she told me the papers should be processed by the end of next month. My company will make a formal announcement from both of us and we’ll say we don’t intend to answer any other media questions.”

I stared at him, watching his face carefully for something different. A sign that would explain what had changed between us because something had. I was sure of it. 

“ Why now, Taehyung?” I asked softly. 

He held my gaze for a second, eyes warm and honest. Taehyung could hide his emotions well, but his eyes always told the truth. 

“Because I’ve strung you along long enough. You deserve to be free.” He said finally.

I swallowed, looking down. 

“I ....you didn’t string me along.” I shook my head.

“I think you deserve to be loved right, without the shadow of my failures hanging over you. I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life in a limbo because of one wrong choice.”

Wrong choice. 

Whose ?

His? When he chose to drink That night?

Or mine? When I chose to walk out?

Or the both of us? For handling the fallout so badly? 

I had so many questions but I didn’t say anything. 

They were question that had no answers. 

“So we move on.” I stared at him intently.

“I will always love you. I will always be there for you.” He smiled, eyes glinting a little. 

i watched him, the familiar body. He had been my first. My best. Taehyung’s body was as familiar to me as my own and I wanted to hug him, hold him close and press kisses to his lips again. It wasn’t emotional or even sexual it was just...this urge to let him know that he was loved too. that he was adored. That he would always be loved.

“But, “ he went on, “  yes. Its been two years.... so.... we should move on. Meet other people. ” 

“Fall in love again ?” I didn’t mean to sound bitter but my tone certainly was. He gave me a very tired smile and I felt guilt bubble up inside me. 

“I’m not going to be that greedy, Mia.  I will settle for just feeling a little less alone.” He looked away and my throat closed up. 

He stood up, moving to the counter to pay for the treats that Hoshi had chosen. 

And that was it. 

I watched the small tendrils of warmth, rising up from my coffee, gossamer strips of smoke mingling in the cold air and melting into nothingness. 

Here one second gone the next.

Just like my marriage. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a little past seven when I reached my apartment, my phone ringing just as I dropped my coat and unwrapped the scarf from around my neck. I moved quickly to the bedroom, pulling my phone out of my handbag. 

I picked the call, switching it to speaker before tossing my phone on the bed. 

“Hello?”

“Jang Mi...its Jungkook. You ready?”

I swore, stripping out of my clothes quickly, fumbling with my bra and yanking my panties down.

“I’m just about to shower.  Five me ten minutes!” 

He didn’t reply and I frowned.

“Jungkook??” i called opening the closet to grab a hairband and shower cap. 

“When you say you’re just about to shower...are you actually in the shower?” His voice  sounded a little deeper than usual. Weird. 

“What?” I was completely confused.

“Like are you naked in-”

Oh Christ. 

I rolled my eyes, hanging up quickly. Sleeping with Jungkook, while extremely pleasurable had definitely been a little too much too soon. It made him take too many liberties, ones I wasn’t particularly comfortable giving him yet. 

But I liked him. 

He was, at the end of the day a nice guy. 

A nice guy who had an actual interest in me. Those were rare to come by. 

It was another fifteen minutes before I was ready, choosing a plain black jumpsuit in a flowy georgette material. It had nice flowy sleeves and i added gold jewelry at my wrists and earrings, just for a little bling. I stared at the dress at all angles. It definitely hugged my curves right but was also impossibly hard to take off. 

So even if I got swayed by his good looks and made bad choices ,  by the time Jungkook undressed me , i would be able to come to my senses and stop myself from having sex with him again. 

Groaning at myself, I grabbed the small black jeweled clutch from inside my dresser, slipping my phone in.

I steered clear of make up, choosing just a deep red lipstick. 

The knock on the door came just as i finished slipping into black pumps . 

I opened the door , only to have a dozen red roses thrust into my hands. 

“Wow.” I whispered, glancing at him. He looked extra handsome, a blood red shirt clinging to his torso, a think black tie knotted at his neck. He gave me a devilish wink, eyes flitting all over me , licking his lips. 

i tamped down the urge to back away, reminding myself that I was supposed to be moving on. Even if it wasn’t with Jungkook, he had asked me out on a date and I had agreed. I would enjoy myself tonight. 

“Gorgeous. Ready?”

“Let me just put these in water...” I smiled at him, placing the stems into the cut glass decanter on the nearest table. I emptied the small bottle of water nearby into it , bending over to fix the petals when I felt him press right up against me. 

Startling, i nearly spilled the water all over the floor, breath catching when his chest met my back . I felt myself trembling a bit because of how warm he felt, even with the inches between us and I could smell him, the subtle cologne that handsome men wear , just to drive women crazy. 

The urge to lean into his body was so strong I had to clench my fists. Apparently,  my body was  very much on board with moving on even if my heart wasn’t. Jungkook made things worse by moaning into my ear, chin resting on my shoulder as he lightly gripped my waist, before reaching over with other hand, plucking one scarlet bloom from the bunch  

I swallowed as he wrapped both arms around me in a backhug , holding the bloom up in front of my face. 

“Do you like the scent of it?” His lips brushed my ear and I grinned. I hadn’t been flirted with , like this in years. I bent my head to lightly breath in the air near the bloom, enjoying the subtle scent. “It’s lovely.” I said honestly. 

He  casually broke the stem off, a couple of inches from the where the petals began. 

“Turn around for me “ Jungkook whispered in my ear again. I turned around quickly, my lips inches from his, refusing to back away, staring right at him. He smirked, bringing the flower up to the small upknot on the side of my head. 

I stayed still as he carefully pulled a single bobby pin out, sticking the stem into my hair before casually using his teeth to pry open the pin again and slotting it into my hair, pinning the flower in place. 

Apparently, watching Jungkook pin a rose into my hair was winning brownie points for him in my brain, because my entire body went warm , my heart beating faster. 

“I’m scared to ask why you’re so good at this...” I smiled and he raised an eyebrow.

“I have a daughter remember? Its a lot of ribbons and bows and pins.” He grinned. 

The idea that Jungkook did his daughter’s hair for her, with ribbons and flowers was so ridiculously endearing I wanted to coo. 

“There. Now we match.... A little.” he smiled. 

I stared at him, the black tie on his red shirt and the red rose against my black dress. 

“Smart. “ I nodded. 

“Shall we leave?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I had fun tonight.” Jungkook hesitated . 

The night had been so much more fun than I’d anticipated. Jungkook somehow convincing me to party crash someone’s engagement party near the pool with an open bar and ridiculous ninety’s party music. But I’d danced to my heart’s content, my hair coming undone half way through and I was only a little upset that I’d lost the red rose in the middle of people.

“I had a lot of fun too Jungkook’ah..” I smiled, honest . 

“We should do this again. Since we never got to actually talk. It was just you getting progressively drunk and dancing like you wanted to pee.” He teased and I pouted. 

I reached out and pressed a palm to his face...his skin smooth under my skin and I felt myself swaying just a little, lethargic and a little aroused from the scent of him.

“Wanna get another drink?” And then because I was completely gone and had no filter, “ If you come inside....maybe I’ll let you cum inside. if you know what I mean.....” I drawled, waggling my eyebrows. 

Jungkook’s face morphed into one of absolute shock, lips parted and then he laughed so hard he choked, coughing. 

“Wow. You  are  drunk.” He shook his head, looking amused. “ How about this.... I’ll come in and tuck you into bed and if you drink a couple of glasses of water for me, I will not tease you about this tomorrow.” He offered. 

I pouted. 

“You don’t wanna come inside...?”

“Oh baby , you have no idea how bad I wanna come inside.....but not like this” He brushed the hair off my brow, kissing my forehead...” Ask me again when you’re sober and we’ll work something out. Now let’s get you into bed.” 

I groaned as he dragged me into the bedroom. 

The moment my head hit the pillow, I fell asleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~!~

Author’s note : Not me falling in love with the second lead in my own story ugh.  He’s gonna get a separate story. I’m gonna write a whole entire fic for CFO! Jungkook , adorable single dad of cute little girl. 

I don’t have a tag list for this fic so please do let me know if you want to be tagged !!! 

[rason-rodd]

Do You Know Your Alphabet?

NSFW Edition feat Jason Todd

(I tried not to give a sexual orientation to Jason in this NSFW Alphabet and make his partner as gender neutral as possible to please all sorts of readers. Apologies if some part doesn’t include all genders. I honestly did my best and I will happily modify them if you tell me how.)

A – Anal:         When he is dating someone with a vagina, Jason rarely asks for anal sex. He prefers pussy to ass but if his partner wants him to use the back door he will happily do so.             However, his partner has to keep in mind that Jason always needs to be very testosterone-y and in full-dominant mode to fuck them in the ass.           In a relationship with someone with a penis, Jason will usually be the one who fucks in the ass rather than the one who is fucked in the ass though he can accept to swap roles from time to time.

B – BDSM:     That will be a non-negotiable “NO”. Even though he is fully aware that BDSM doesn’t only rhyme with pain but also with consent and pleasure, Jason is not a fan of it as hinted and stated many times in Red Hood and The Outlaws.             We can suppose that it is because BDSM can let some poorly buried trauma surface by reminding Jason of bad memories that includes ropes and a crowbar.    

C- Condom:   Only when needed. Like most men, Jason doesn’t like the lack of sensation that wearing a condom involves but he is smart and responsible enough to know there are moments when you need to wear one.       At a beginning of a relationship, he will always choose to wear one until he is sure that there are no risks to transmit any sort of STD. But once he knows everything is safe he will gladly ask his partner to either stop using protection and/or take contraception like a pill if said partner can get pregnant. Being a father is not in his plans and it actually scares him.            

D- Dominance:           Jason is a caring and highly protective boyfriend with fear of abandonment issues and those traits ultimately makes him a very possessive lover.         And it shows in bed. His possessiveness coupled with his passion and devotion to his SO makes him the type of man that permanently tries to assert his dominance. But this so-called dominance is not a way to show who’s the man in this relationship or who’s wearing the pants. It is just a clumsy way to show that he is a fully committed and devoted lover who is always struggling to please his partner out of fear of not being good enough and eventually abandoned. (Who said men were not complicated sometimes?)       Moreover, Jason fucks according to his mood and so his dominance always varies. Sometimes dominance can simply mean him on top and sometimes it can be synonymous of hard deep pounding from behind. Jason can indeed be a rough lover but he will never be the type to lay a hand on his SO. So you can forget any sort of slap or strangulation. He is a fighter in the streets but a lover under the sheets.       But submission is very rarely his thing. Sure he will adore making love with a partner as passionate as he is and will forever be turned on by someone who can match his strength and therefore who will not mind standing up to him. But if you think you can tame him forever you’re so wrong.         Jason will occasionally let you lead the way in the bedroom and he will be happy to let you do so as he will see your sudden dominance the same manner he sees his (meaning a symbol of love and devotion). But any relationship in which the place of alpha male is permanently refused to him will leave him unsatisfied and frustrated.

E- Ejaculation:             One thing is sure; Jason can’t cum in a condom. When wearing one, he will always make sure to remove it to spurt his semen on his partner. Most of the time it is on their ass, chest or pussy. He will generally never cum on someone’s face though but will see no problem in cumming in someone’s mouth for as long as they swallow that load.           But what he loves the most is to cum inside his partner (which is also another reason why he is not a fan of condoms). He finds a certain pleasure in doing so, finding the act rather intimate and weirdly romantic. He would never cum inside someone he doesn’t love or barely know.

F- Foreplay:     Jason never forgets foreplay even if his body begs him to just fuck his partner and get it over with. To him, foreplay is necessary when you do the deed. Without that Jason will feel like something is missing and view the sexual act as botched.         But to Jason Todd foreplay doesn’t only revolve around handjobs, fingering, oral sex or any other physical display. Of course he will happily do all of that but Jason is an intellectual and so he will definitely consider words as a form of foreplay. And sometimes they even arouse him more than the rest. Few naughty text messages telling him how much you miss him and his cock inside of you and the man will run back to you as fast as The Flash, his penis as hard as a stone pillar. And when that happens, you might get yourself prepared, as he won’t take much time to kiss or cuddle.

G- Gear and tool:       Mother Nature blessed Jason Todd and gave him one hell of a cock that matches his broad physique! It is veiny and circumcised, long, way longer than average actually, and its girth is going to stretch and fill any hole perfectly.           But this beautiful gear is not always a blessing. Indeed, you cannot take Jason’s whole cock in your mouth without gagging or chocking (though some people don’t mind that) and if you’re not lubed enough penetration can definitely hurt. So playing with that amazing tool demands patience and time.     His testicles are even and rather large when you think about it but they suit the P.  

H- Hairs:         Jason is a hard-worker but he is extremely lazy when it comes to taking care of himself. Plus, that laziness is also coupled with the fact that he doesn’t have much time to really mind his appearance. When he is monopolized by his vigilante work, he can spend days without shaving (and sometimes showering) and not really realise that he is in an urgent need of a razor. A chance that he is not a man that tends to be very hairy!           But to be honest, Jason doesn’t mind hairs in general and there are actually places he refuses to shave like his legs, his arms and the sexy line of dark hairs he has under his bellybutton.     But when he actually takes time to clean and shave, he always makes sure that his armpits are not bushy, that there are no hairs on his chest and his face and that his pubic hairs are nicely trimmed (He hates shaving them.)     When it comes to his partner, Jason can tolerate some hairs but he prefers when they are either fully-shaven or well-trimmed. He doesn’t like eating hairs when eating his SO out.

I- Intimacy:     Jason is very ambiguous and difficult to understand when it comes to intimacy.   As a possessive lover, he will always refuse to share his partner with another ‘alpha male’. He needs to be the centre of attention and the only person craved and praised in the bedroom. So when dating Jason you can forget any sort of threesome or orgy.           But if his partner is interested in welcoming a person that might not overshadow Jason and let him keep his dominant place between the sheets (for example a woman) then he may accept. Single, he will happily mingle with a couple but he will somewhat see this as a competition or an opportunity to show who’s the best.           But there’s definitely something that he will prefer to threesomes and that’s being watched or heard while having sex.           No, he won’t drag you to some swinger’s club and allow dozens of people watch you two having sex (he is a romantic) but you need to keep in mind that Jason is a man that doesn’t limit his sexual intercourses to his bedroom.             He actually loves fucking outside and/or in public places as the risks of getting caught or being heard have the tendency to get him highly turned on and have his juices flow. But he is not stupid enough to risk everything for a quick romp in front of others.             Weirdly, he prefers getting caught/ being heard by people he knows - and in that case he will not stop fucking his partner and show what an amazing lay he is – than by someone he doesn’t know. It boosts his ego and he can’t help it.       The only time getting caught traumatized him was when Alfred accidentally spotted him having sex in the manor. He didn’t dare catch his eye for days.    

J- Jerking off:   Jason can sometimes jerk off when he feels like he needs to release some stress and tension. But this solitary act requires a moment of intimacy he doesn’t often get because of his vigilantism that takes up all of his nights and energy. After a long night of patrol, given the choice, he will mostly choose sleeping over masturbation. But when he does jerk off, he always makes sure that no one is going to bother him (though he has fantasise about his crush watching him quite a few times) and he tends to think about situations rather than persons. The only times he will think about someone while masturbating will be when he has a crush on someone. Then he will imagine fucking this person and probably whisper their name.

K – Kink:         Jason can be kinky but he is not the kinkiest of the bat-family. There are things he will stubbornly never try or even consider (BDSM for example) but things he will gladly do on occasion (see Intimacy + Roleplay). As said before he won’t mix violence and love.   But the kinky side of Jason is just another way to spice up his relationship and show he is not a boring partner. Moreover, he is a boyfriend that takes consent and respect very seriously. He will never do anything that might hurt his SO in any way or anything they might not be confortable with.   That’s why he believes he and his partner have to talk about any sort of kinks before trying to experiment them. But he will prefer doing it through text messages than face to face. He is weirdly shy when talking about sex.

L - Love:           Jason has had a few one night stands but he will admit that sex is better when you’re in love. Plus, “sex gets better with time” would define Jason’s skills as a lover as he is the type of man that needs (and loves) taking his time to discover his partner’s body and desires. He is an enthusiastic learner that hasn’t yet discovered all the things he can know about sex. And that’s because he hasn’t had so many partners over the years.     Though don’t think that means your first time together is going to be bad. It won’t. On the contrary, it will be great but not as great as it can become.       Therefore we can jump to the conclusion that the persons that will only have Jason for one night will definitely miss something truly amazing.

M - Massage:     Jason has many qualities but giving massage is not a talent he can brag about. He is honestly not that bad at it but since he believes he sucks, he will not initiate in any sort of massage session. However, he loves getting one since he loves being touched and caressed especially on his chest and back. Actually, Jason believes that caresses and cuddles cannot be dissociated from the deed and views them as necessary before, during and after the act.         Also, he is the kind of men that will display his affection anytime he can though preferably in private. The rare PDA will occur if he feels jealous, threatened or worse, neglected (Don’t ever do that or the entire city will hear his wrath!).

N – Nudity:     When he is in a relationship Jason is not ashamed of his body but that doesn’t make him a body-confident man in general. Don’t expect seeing him walking around fully naked!     Indeed, Jason is modest and never sees his body as sexy. I mean, he knows he is muscular and well-built and all but as it is in his nature to focus on the negative, he will always be a bit hung up about the scars on his body and he will never let a one-night partner touch them or ask any sort of question about them. Only his SO will be allowed to do so and that shows how much trust and love Jason places in his relationships.

O – Oral sex:               To Jason, there’s nothing sexier than his partner sucking out his cock on their knees. It gives him satisfaction and boosts his ego like nothing else because he views this act as a symbol of submission and worship, two things he deeply cares about when having sex.           Fortunately he loves to reciprocate and he will not hesitate dropping on his knees to do the same. But don’t view it as him submitting to you. If that gorgeous man goes down, he goes down to make you scream his name, not to be your pet.           Also, it may be seen as an asshole move but if you refuse to suck his cock, do not expect him to give you oral sex. As terrible as it sounds and even though he puts his partner’s pleasure before his own, the man gives if only you give in return.

P – Position.   Jason is a romantic that craves touching and being touched and so he will always favours positions that allows him to feel his SO’s body against his or to roam their bodies with his strong hands or his lips. That’s why he will not appreciate being tied up and submitted.         Jason loves positions that allow him to go deep in his partner and to see himself do so. Plus, he likes sex to be a confortable experience for both his partner and himself. Therefore do not expect acrobatic positions that will leave you tired and aching for days. He doesn’t need that to make you feel that way. His top positions are: missionary, doggy, (reverse or not) cowgirl and spooning as they will all permit his hands and/or lips to wander your body.

Q – Quickie:   Jason is not really a fan of quickies as he want sex with him to be a memorable experience as well as a memento of his skills as a lover. Therefore, he strongly believes a 5 or 10 minutes sexual experience cannot show his partner what a good lay he is. And so, he will favour long nights of sweaty sex plus some good morning sex if the experience was highly pleasant.

R – Role Play: Jason is a good actor. He loves wearing disguise and impersonating different persons as we saw it quite regularly throughout RHATO. So if you want to role play, you bet he will be up for it and it will be a fun time. His favourite scenarios: the ones where he is in charge of course since they are the ones that allow him to display the little confidence he has without any sort of shyness or fear.     Do you like men with a moustache? Cause Malone Jr. is on his way.

S – Stamina:   Jason is kind, caring and generous out and under the sheets. He will always make sure to respect and please his partner, placing their pleasure before his own. But that doesn’t make him any less hungry than he is.           He is rather insatiable when having sex and that’s probably because he doesn’t have sex often even when in a relationship (damn patrols!). Therefore, that man can sometimes get carried away, be rather quick on the mount and become a bit of a jackhammer if his partner does not refrain him. And he won’t stop until he … you know.       Fortunately, his romantic side as well as his generosity will always remind him not to leave his partner unsatisfied at the end of the deed which miraculously doesn’t happen as quickly as one would expect given his frenetic pace.       Because he is athletic, Jason has a very good stamina. Plus, he is the kind of lover that can recuperate rather quickly and so he can go for a round two and even a round three if his partner is up for it.            

T – Talking:     Jason doesn’t consider himself a dirty-talker. Sure he will let out some naughty sentences while having sex but they will never be disrespectful. He won’t call his partner a whore or any other insulting words. On the contrary he will give compliments and make praises rain and he will happily accept the same from his partner in return.       He will also ask a lot of questions to reassure himself like “Do you like that?” or “Do you like my cock inside of you?” and he will also demand to be complimented (“Tell me how much you like it”) especially if his partner is silent (which is something he hates by the way).     He is not a very noisy lover. He never screams or moans loudly. He grunts and growls but those noises usually are very guttural as if he is fighting to keep them to himself. Don’t do the same though. Scream, talk and let the whole neighborhood he’s fucking you good!

U – Underwear:         Trunks or boxers but never briefs. Something that can hold his prominent package while he is running after criminals in Gotham City but that isn’t too tight around his thunder thighs. His underwear is generally unicolor and has no patterns. Dick bought him a pair of bat-briefs for fun once but he never wore them. Actually he probably threw them away. He likes his female partners to wear sexy fancy lingerie but he doesn’t see it as a necessary tool to be aroused. Simple underwear doesn’t turn him off but if there are some unicorns or rainbows on them … well … he might feel very uncomfortable and perplexed.          

V – Virginity:               He was around 16 or 17, living among the All-Caste and it was with Essence, Ducra’s daughter. Essence was Jason’s almost every first-times. Though she is not the first person he fell in love with, she was the first girl he kissed, the first girl he touched and the first girl he had sex with. Before that he had never really made out with anyone, as young Jason was the kind of boy more interested in books than in people. But Essence wasn’t just anyone. She was mysterious, fascinating and hard to get and those two traits are still something that Jason digs in a partner. If you ask Jason about his first time, he will tell you that even if he and Essence are not on best terms today, he doesn’t regret one bit of what happened with her. He truly loved her and she was here for him when no one else was.

W – Worship If you don’t know how to be complimentary then you might not be the right person for Jason. This man craves compliments and affection as much as one craves food and water.           Jason cannot thrive in a relationship with a selfish partner who doesn’t flatter him as he always feels the need to be worshipped. It’s not arrogance. It’s because he is permanently scared of not being good enough. See him as an unconfident little boy who needs recognition to be happy in a way.       But once you start demonstrating your admiration and affection for him, get ready to be showered with loving compliments. Worship goes in both ways in Jason’s mind. The more complimentary and loving you will be the more he will. And that works in the bedroom as well. Worship the man! Show him (and tell him!) how much you love him and how much you love what he is doing and you will be the most sexually satisfied person in the world. To make it short, worship is Jason’s fuel.   To finish, If he could worship one part of his lover’s body it would be their eyes. (Told you he was a romantic!). He loves to keep eye contact with his partner while having sex and see them sparkle with lust, pleasure and happiness.           

X- Xenophilia:             If you look at Jason’s list of love interests, you can spot some recurring characteristics. Physically, most of them have light hair. They are often blonds or red-heads and they often have got green or blue eyes. But that doesn’t mean he won’t be interested in brunettes (Talia, Donna) and reject anyone with dark eyes (Essence’s eyes were completely black!). Because what matters the most to him is chemistry. Jason wants someone he can trust, someone he can talk to and that will understand him but that also will call him on his bullshit and stand up to him when needed. In a word, be strong and be there for him.

Y – Yearn:       Unlike someone else in the bat-family (cough Dick cough), Jason will not drop his pants in a heartbeat and he doesn’t really fancy eager persons as well (Those persons are only good for one night). He loves the chase and he loves when the people he is interested in are playing hard to get. That will arouse him a lot and make him crave them even more.           When he wants to have sex, Jason will drop occasional hints to show his (potential) partner that he wants them. Usually, they will be caresses, kisses and/or languorous looks. He will never clearly say out loud that he wants to have sex. But he doesn’t mind when his partner drags him to the bedroom and initiate the deed. He finds that terribly sexy even, and super complimentary.

Z – Zzzzz:         Jason likes to sleep after sex with his naked partner huddled against him. Rest your head over his chest and hold him tight and he will be the happiest man in the world as, to him, it will mean ‘Stay. I feel safe with you’. But don’t expect to sleep all night especially if your relationship is brand new. You wanted Todd in your bed? You have him and he will not hesitate waking you up slowly if he wants to get in between your legs one more time. Hope you don’t mind.     Plus, Jason is not the “hump and go” type of man and he will always be there in the morning with his body probably pressed against yours. Though, if you’re a night stand there are risks he might never call you again.

[alexiaugustin]

okay okay okay so let's talk about kieu my and her internalized biphobia since nobody can tell me that this is just my hEaDcOn i made up to comfort myself anymore. im sorry if this post is gonna be messy but i just have lots of thoughts abt this clip and im emo af right now

i just wanna thank druck so much for giving us bi rep with kieu my that didn't focus on kieu my realizing that she's bi or her struggling to come out (there's nothing wrong with that rep and those definitely are important storys to tell but it's also damn important to have representation that goes beyond that process). i think what a lot of cishets always fail to understand is that even though you personally are completely at peace with yourself and your identity and might even have told your friends, family etc about it, does not mean that you aren't struggling to accept your sexuality when you are outside of your comfort zone, when you are confronted with the expectations this society has for you and sometimes even the expectations within your own community. you can be out to your friends, be comfortable talking about your sexuality, speak up against homophobia and be very sure of yourself but when you actually find yourself in a situation where you actively have to make a choice and decide whether you are ready to be in a relationship and be one hundred percent serious about this you are struggling.

there are various reasons for that; you might be a afraid of what other students and maybe even teachers would think and say at school, you might be afraid of verbal and violent homophobia when you're in public and some more struggles specifically bi people might have; not wanting to disappointed people that don't accept your bisexuality because by choosing to date a girl you are disappointing them because the possibility of you ending up in a "straight relationship" was there, feeling like that by dating someone you are picking one side, feeling like you are disappointing the lgbt community if you date a boy so you're letting them down by not being "gay enough".

and after spending so much of your time figuring out who you are, coming out to other people, coming to terms with your sexuality, falling in love with someone and being sure that you want to be in a relationship with them- suddenly feeling so insecure about this when shit gets real and there's an actual possibility for you two to be in a relationship feels like a massive setback. in a way it feels like you are betraying yourself and all of the development you went through when you suddenly r afraid to actually be in a relationship. it's something you just cannot understand at first so you're trying to withdraw from the situation again, starting to question yourself all over again. and this is exactly what happened to kieu my after she kissed fatou on nye.

in one moment she was so sure about her feelings and just took the opportunity to shoot her shot and in the next she started being insecure n felt like that if she wanted to be with fatou she would have to pick a side (and from what she said last friday it's very likely that she in a way felt like that she was picking the wrong side because of her own expectations that probably made her feel like that she should date a boy). so she started ghosting fatou because talking to fatou would have meant that she would have had to be honest about her struggles to not only fatou but also herself and it's likely that she didn't know how to talk about what she was going through nor how to explain it, not even to herself. when her friends confronted her with the fact that she kissed fatou she didn't know how to explain it to them either so she just chose the easy way out, called her a dumb bye kiss and wanted to escape a conversation about this. this is not to excuse what she did- of course it's not okay to ghost someone you kissed just the night before, of course it's not cool to call said person just a dumb nye kiss especially if that person actually means a whole lot to you. but it's a reason and a reason that i can understand and relate to very much (i am kieu my and kieu my is me lol)

when kieu my realized how much she hurt fatou and when she was sure that she would lose her she realized that she could not longer run from her issues but needed to confront herself with the situation and desperately wanted to talk to fatou again. i think that my favorite part of this storyline is that when kieu my explained it to fatou, fatou just understood her because she knows what it feels like when you feel like you r letting people down by not being with a boy, when you've never been in a same sex relationship and are afraid of what might change in your life if you were.

of course there are situations in life where the internalized biphobia of others might have hurt you too much to be able to forgive them but i love that in this case they made clear that fatou understood what kieu my went through and that the understanding was enough to forgive her and let her walls down again, to tell kieu my "you are good" last friday and to be in a relationship with her now without having the narrative villainize and make kieu my feel more miserable about herself if fatou would have just told her that she cannot forgive her and let the friday clip end with that.

[miraculousladybugandconsent]

Am I in a Healthy Relationship?

It Feels Like Love — But Is It?

It's totally normal to look at the world through rose-colored glasses in the early stages of a relationship. But for some people, those rose-colored glasses turn into blinders that keep them from seeing that a relationship isn't as healthy as it should be.

What Makes a Healthy Relationship?

Hopefully, you and your significant other are treating each other well. Not sure if that's the case? Take a step back from the dizzying sensation of being swept off your feet and think about whether your relationship has these qualities:

Mutual respect. 

Does he or she get how great you are and why? Make sure your BF or GF is into you for who you are.

Does your partner listen when you say you're not comfortable doing something and then back off right away, without trying to get you to change your mind?

Respect in a relationship means that each person values the other and understands — and would never challenge — the other person's boundaries.

Trust.

You're talking with a guy from French class and your boyfriend walks by. Does he completely lose his cool, or keep walking because he knows you'd never cheat on him?

It's okay to get a little jealous sometimes — jealousy is a natural emotion. But how a person reacts when feeling jealous is what matters.

There's no way you can have a healthy relationship if you don't trust each other.

Honesty.

This one goes hand-in-hand with trust, because it's tough to trust someone when one of you isn't being honest.

Have you ever caught your girlfriend in a major lie?

Like she told you that she had to work on Friday night but it turned out she was at the movies with her friends?

The next time she says she has to work, you'll have a lot more trouble believing her, and the trust will be on shaky ground.

Support.

It's not just in bad times that your partner should support you.

Some people are great when your whole world is falling apart, but not that interested in hearing about the good things in your life.

In a healthy relationship, your significant other is there with a shoulder to cry on when you find out your parents are getting divorced and to celebrate with you when you get the lead in a play.

Fairness/equality.

You need to have give-and-take in your relationship.

Do you take turns choosing which new movie to see?

As a couple, do you hang out with your partner's friends as often as they hang out with yours?

You'll know if it isn't a pretty fair balance.

Things get bad really fast when a relationship turns into a power struggle, with one person fighting to get their way all the time.

Separate identities.

In a healthy relationship, everyone needs to make compromises, but that doesn't mean you should feel like you're losing out on being yourself.

When you started going out, you both had your own lives (families, friends, interests, hobbies, etc.) and that shouldn't change.

Neither of you should have to pretend to like something you don't, or give up seeing your friends, or drop out of activities you love.

And you also should feel free to keep developing new talents or interests, making new friends, and moving forward.

Good communication.

Can you talk to each other and share feelings that are important to you?

Don't keep feelings bottled up because you're afraid it's not what your partner wants to hear.

And if you need some time to think something through before you're ready to talk about it, the right person will give you some space to do that.

What's an Unhealthy Relationship?

A relationship is unhealthy when it involves mean, disrespectful, controlling, or abusive behavior.

Some people live in homes with parents who fight a lot or abuse each other — emotionally, verbally, or physically. For some people who have grown up around this kind of behavior it can almost seem normal or okay, but it's not!

Many of us learn from watching and imitating the people close to us. So someone who has lived around violent or disrespectful behavior may not have learned how to treat others with kindness and respect, or how to expect the same treatment. This does not make it okay to disrespect you!

Qualities like kindness and respect are absolute requirements for a healthy relationship.

Someone who doesn't yet have this part down may need to work on it with a trained therapist before he or she is ready for a relationship.

Meanwhile, even though you might feel bad or feel for someone who's been mistreated, you need to take care of yourself — it's not healthy to stay in a relationship that involves abusive behavior of any kind.

Even if your partner was or is being abused, it is never okay for them to abuse you, and you aren’t a bad person for keeping yourself safe.

Warning Signs

When a boyfriend or girlfriend uses verbal insults, mean language, nasty putdowns, gets physical by hitting or slapping, or forces someone into sexual activity, it's a sign of verbal, emotional, or physical abuse.

Ask yourself, does my partner:

get angry when I don't drop everything for them?

criticize the way I look or dress, and say I'll never be able to find anyone else who would date me?

keep me from seeing friends or from talking to other guys or girls?

want me to quit an activity, even though I love it?

ever raise a hand when angry, like they were about to hit me?

try to force me to go further sexually than I want to?

These aren't the only questions you can ask yourself. If you can think of any way in which your partner is trying to control you, make you feel bad about yourself, isolate you from the rest of your world, or — this is a big one — harm you physically or sexually, then it's time to get out, fast.

Let a trusted friend or family member know what's going on, and make sure you're safe.

It can be tempting to make excuses or misinterpret violence, possessiveness, or anger as an expression of love.But even if you know that the person hurting you loves you, it is not healthy.

No one deserves to be hit, shoved, or forced into anything they don't want to do.

Why Are Some Relationships So Difficult?

Ever heard about how it's hard for someone to love you when you don't love yourself? It's a big relationship roadblock when one or both people struggle with self-esteem problems.

Your partner isn't there to make you feel good about yourself if you can't do that on your own.

Focus on being happy with yourself, and don't take on the responsibility of worrying about someone else's happiness.

What if you feel that your girlfriend or boyfriend needs too much from you? If the relationship feels like a burden or a drag instead of a joy, it might be time to think about whether it's a healthy match for you.

Even if your partner is mentally ill, or struggling with something in their personal life, it doesn’t mean you have to stay with them. A relationship is supposed to benefit both sides and make you both happy. If all it’s doing is making you miserable, it’s okay to end it.

You are never obligated to stay in a relationship, no matter your reasons for ending it. 

If your partner ever threatens you with hurting themselves if you leave them, tell a trusted adult immediately, and end the relationship. Even if someone is mentally ill, it is never okay to threaten self-harm or suicide to keep someone in a relationship, and you are not responsible for their actions, even if they try to blame you. Tell a trusted adult that your partner was threatening to hurt themselves, and end the relationship.

Manipulating someone with the threat of self-harm or suicide is abusive, and it is never okay.

If you are struggling with suicidal ideation or thought of self-harm, talk to a trusted adult or call a helpline. You can talk to your partner about the way you feel, but it is not okay for you to use your mental illness as a threat or a manipulation tactic.

Feeling suicidal doesn’t always mean you want to die, wishing you didn’t exist or were never born is another common symptom. Click here to find out how you can get help if you’re feeling suicidal or want to hurt yourself.

Another reason relationships might seem so difficult is because intense relationships can be hard for teens.

Some are so focused on their own developing feelings and responsibilities that they don't have the emotional energy it takes to respond to someone else's feelings and needs in a close relationship.

Don't worry if you're just not ready yet. You can take all the time you need, even if you decide you never want to date at all.

Ever notice that some teen relationships don't last very long? It's no wonder — you're both still growing and changing every day. You might seem perfect for each other at first, but that can change. If you try to hold on to the relationship anyway, there's a good chance it will turn sour. Better to part as friends than to stay in something that you've outgrown or that no longer feels right for one or both of you.

And before you go looking for amour from that hottie from French class, respect your current beau by breaking things off before you make your move. Cheating isn’t okay, no matter your reasons.

Relationships can be full of fun, romance, excitement, intense feelings, and occasional heartache, too.

Whether you're single or in a relationship, remember that it's good to be choosy about who you get close to. If you're still waiting, take your time and get to know plenty of people, and know that no choice needs to be permanent.

Think about the qualities you value in a friendship, and see how they match up with the ingredients of a healthy relationship.

Work on developing those good qualities in yourself — they make you a lot more attractive to others.

And if you're already part of a pair, make sure the relationship you're in brings out the best in both of you.

source

[sunflowerstache]

the one where you’re Harry’s tailor

@theasstour​ and I have been stewing in this idea for nearly a year and it’s finally come together.. we hope you enjoy x.

Word Count: 25.6k | Warning(s): explicit language, alcohol, sexual content

NORA’S MASTERLIST  |  SARAH’S MASTERLIST

There were few moments in life that would equate to being backstage at a fashion show, simply because it was impossible to string together the specific words needed to describe the feeling. Journalists tried, quickly scribbling down thoughts and plans for their future articles in small notepads, while the professionals around them danced about in unspoken, yet somehow synchronized, movements. How would they be able to accurately depict the feeling of fabrics rubbing together between your fingers, in the most comforting way? The almost deafening sound of sewing pins carelessly being dropped on the table, after fixing a foot sized hole in a pair of trousers moments before showtime. Or how, with the amount of people crammed into the room, mixed with the humid Roman air seeping through the open windows, had sweat continuously dripped from your forehead. Yet, there was still a constant shiver running up your spine with nerves. No matter how valiant of an attempt, unless they were watching their own tailored outfits walk down the runway, their written words would never be exactly right.

Even after four years working for Gucci, perfecting hundreds of articles of clothing, clothing that was held on such a high pedestal in the fashion industry, the nerves never settled. Not when Alessandro immediately hired you at the end of your University placement, or when you were asked to accompany him in the closing walk during last year’s Cruise Show. But all of those monumental achievements paled in comparison to the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach when you were crouched in front of your current canvas, Gucci’s newest runway model for the 2020 Cruise Fashion Show; Harry Styles.

He was making his runway debut wearing Look 51, something you’d taken notice was not too far away from his new wardrobe when you first opened his folder. The wide legged pants were crafted from fine dots patterned blue wool, a single red pin stripe running from the hip, all the way down to the ankle. They were finished with minor details, ones not many people would take notice to, but ones that made your heart race with excitement; hidden horn buttons, front slash pockets, viscose inner lining, and an interior silk belt, all of which were hidden by his coat. Green, red, and blue stripes defined the knee length coat, appearing to crease where the four pockets sat; two at his groin and two more just at the breasts, the left pocket holding Lyre ‘Pas de Rumeur’ crest patch. Barely visible under the wool coat, peaked out a blazer identically matching the pants, only the buttons and red piping could be seen, but you knew what would be hidden to onlookers; an orange lion embroidered onto the upper left breast pocket, the hand stitched word ‘Gucci’ sitting under it’s paws in black thread, and a baby blue silk inside - a fabric that no doubt felt great against Harry’s white tank top covered torso. The rest of his look consisted of minor accessories that brought the look together; a red barrie that had the signature double G’s embroidered in green thread, a pair of crocheted black fingerless gloves, and maroon quilted leather slide sandals, complete with the interlocking G horsebit. The subtle jewelry on his body was a stark contrast to his usual ring clad fingers, now only having a few delicate necklaces rest against his bare chest. He was a sight to be seen, someone who would surely grab attention as he made his way through the dark museum runway.

“Quit moving, or you’ll end up with a pin in your bum.” you mumbled, on your knees behind Harry and quickly fixing a tear in the rear left pants pocket before he was ushered out onto the runway.

The two of you were in the farthest corner of the back dressing room, away from most of the hustle and bustle of all other models, so that you could grab the emergency sewing kit, filled with all colors of thread, baby scissors, hundreds of pins, and even super glue, from your bag. Out of the corner of your eye, Alessandro could be seen weaving through the room, triple checking that each and every outfit was completed in the exact way he had envisioned. There wasn’t much time before all models were set to step foot on the Musei Capitolini floor, and the last minute nerves were finally setting in.

“Sorry, can’t help it. Never done this before, you know.” his voice was muffled by not only the chatter of the room, but also the constant picking of his lip.

“Still can’t believe you’re actually doing it, if I’m honest.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” you chuckled, giving the bum pocket a couple tugs to make sure it wouldn’t come undone again, before moving to stand directly in front of him. “You cut yourself the first time we met, ripped your trousers at the first shoot, and fell off a stone wall in the new campaign. You’re not exactly the most graceful lad at times.”

“In my defense, no one told me not to get on that wall.” Harry paused a moment, holding his hand out for you to place the pin cushion while you reorganized your bag,  “Can’t believe we only met a few years ago. Feel like I’ve known you forever.”

Without any hesitation, you nodded in agreement.

You couldn’t really remember the exact date you first met Harry. All you remember is it had been February 2018 and raining - very hard at that - and when you entered the Gucci store on Bond Street in London, your umbrella had been torn to shreds because of the wind, and your hands felt like ice after having been attacked by the raging storm outside. Alessandro had been upstairs in one of the offices, three huge white boards before him with the different campaigns he was planning at the time. Humming along to Malafemmena by Roberto Murolo playing from the speakers on his desk, Alessandro traced a finger over the fabric hanging from the wall beside the boards. You knew those were the fabrics you were going to be using today, your boss having hung them forth so it would be easier for you to work.

“Morning.” You had said, taking your jacket off and placing it on the hanger. “Absolutely horrendous outside.”

“Hmm,” mused Alessandro, tilting his head to take the grey fabric in before he looked over at you making your way over. “Always like that in England.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, looking at the different colours, materials and patterns you were going to use for the new looks. “You’re not wrong.”

Alessandro giggled, looking over his shoulder for a single second.

“Either pouring rain or it’s drizzling.” You said, studying the different designs of each of the suits you would be making over the next few months. “Right annoying when you don’t even want to be here.”

He laughed again, turning around to look at the boards you assumed.

“I’m being serious.” You reached for the fabric your boss had been checking out when you arrived. “Who would choose to live in a country where it constantly rains?”

“Didn’t really have a choice most of my life,” came a voice from behind you and you instantly stopped dead in your tracks. “Can’t really control where we are born, can we?”

Slowly, you turned to see one of Alessandro’s dearest friends: Harry Styles. He was sitting in the brown leather sofa right behind you, a sofa you knew was there from having been in Alessandro’s London office multiple times before, but hadn’t thought to give a second look. You would assume Harry would have someone there with him, like some assistant or manager or… anyone, but Harry was sitting there all alone, looking over at you with this cheeky grin on his face that had your cheeks heat up. It wasn’t a shock for him to be here alone, you thought after a second, as Harry and Alessandro spent loads of time together usually so this was just another normal hang-out for them. You, on the other hand, had never met Harry Styles before. This was your first time being in his company. And so far – you had to be honest with yourself – you weren’t looking very good. Grumpy, soaked through, and with a dash of dishevelled everything, you no doubt looked like a person no one wanted anything to do with. Harry clearly found it very amusing how little you liked being in England. Also most definitely found it funny how startled you were at his sudden utterance. You watched as he got up from the sofa, walking over to you as Alessandro also came to sight again.

“Il mio amore,” Alessandro said. “This is Harry.”

You zoned out entirely, the whole situation too surreal. Though you had been born and brought up in England, there was just something about the constant rain that made not only your mood drop, but your skin sticky and hands clammy. So when Harry reached a hand out to shake yours after Alessandro had told Harry your name and introduced you, red lights and a loud alarm started going off in your head. He would have to feel just how bad the effect of the bloody terrible English weather had on you. But not shaking his hand would be weird and impolite. His hand was between the two of you, open and ready for yours. It stood there for a few seconds. And you just looked at it. Quickly realising that not shaking his hand would probably be more awkward than doing so with a sweaty palm, you took his. A breathy giggle left Harry’s lips as your hands met. You let his go, looking over at Alessandro who was giving you a weird look while you heard the slap of Harry’s hand against his thigh in the background.

“Measurements.” Alessandro said, trying to move on from the awkward situation you had just caused. All the blood in your body rushed to the surface of your skin, instantly heating you up. You glanced to the ground, hoping Harry didn’t notice how flustered you just got. Walking to your bag, you took out your notebook and measurement tape. “Glorious, mio caro.”

Getting your pen, you walked over to the board for the Gucci Autumn/Winter Campaign. There were five different suits for this one, a couple of more for the next, and then three for the last one. From the way Alessandro had left some space at the bottom of the last board, it was clear he would be working even more with Harry in the future, they just did not know exactly what or when yet. Someone cleared their throat beside you and you whipped your head to your left to see Alessandro pointing to the different suits on the board.

“These today.” He said, pointing to the specific details he wanted and instructions on where they would be loose and not. “I need to go to a meeting, but you two will be fine on your own. You have a lot in common.”

You frowned, watching as Alessandro walked toward his desk, picking up a huge binder and resting it under his arm. “Have a lot in common?”

“Yes,” he grinned. “You do.”

“Like…?”

Alessandro only gestured with his hands for the two of you to get talking, and then he disappeared out the door, shutting it behind him. Dettagli - Detalhes by Ornella Vanoni played lowly as the quiet between the two of you filled the room and made it troublesome to breathe properly. A great stream of anxiety suddenly took over and you suddenly felt very awkward. Obvious from the way Alessandro had left in such a hurry and the way he had left with that grin, you knew there was underlying expectations to this encounter. There were multiple reasons why Alessandro had called you to come help him. You didn’t want to think about that, though, because that only made absolutely everything ten times more embarrassing.

“Lovely,” Harry looked over at you from staring at the door Alessandro had kicked closed, standing confidently in his green and white striped tee shirt over his loose light denim jeans. “Likes a dramatic entrance and exit, that one.”

You huffed through your nose, walking over to the board to look at the details once more. Harry only watched you, a bit unsure of what to do next. The rain fell against the windows, creating a lulling sound to go with the Italian music still swaying through the room. The white walls, tall ceiling, and Victorian look of the room only made it feel like you two were actually in Italy. His phone vibrated from the sofa with an incoming text, only giving it a quick look over his shoulder until you wandered over to your bag again. Whipping your glasses out, you hung them from the collar of your white tee shirt before walking back over to Harry.

Quickly, and maybe a bit too loudly, you cleared your throat. “Are you ticklish?”

Taken a bit off guard, Harry blinked twice. “Only armpits and backs of my knees.”

“Right.” You nodded your head, hooking your measurement tape around your neck. “Stand still, back straight.”

Harry listened to you, biting the side of his lip as you pressed your ring and index finger to your sternum in concentration. Eyes following you as you started walking around his figure, getting a good look at everything before you stood before him again.

“Clothes too loose?” He asked, genuinely concerned.

“No, it’s fine.” You said, taking your tape back in your hands again. An instrumental version of ‘O Sole Mio by Jack Jezzro started playing just as the rain outside threw itself more forcefully against the windows, but you tried not to pay notice to anything but what was going on before you. You had no idea why you were nervous. Plenty of times before, you had worked with other celebrities; tailoring their suits, dresses and whatnots. For some reason, however, this felt different. Harry was so close to Alessandro, so the notion that the two of you would get along just as well filled you with anxiety, and a hint of awkwardness. Bringing your tape up you took a step closer to Harry as you lifted it above his head and around his neck. Before doing anything else, you put your glasses on, wanting to actually be able to see what the measurements were. Resting the tape on the tops of his shoulders, you put your finger between the tape and his neck to allow for some room for Harry to breathe in his suits. You felt him swallow against your finger. Her heart skipped a quick beat.

“So…” he said, dragging it out. “Where are you from?”

Instantly, your eyes whipped up in the direction of his, staring at you patiently. You glanced down at the measurements again, whispering them to yourself under your breath and doing so continuously till you wrote his numbers behind the ‘neck’ in your notebook.

“You can tell I’m from England?” you asked, knowing your parents had made it very apparent to you how much of your accent you had lost over the four years you had spent constantly traveling.

“Know a Brit when I hear one.”

You huffed through your nose, walking back to him. “Lift your arms, please.”

He did.

You sneaked the measurement tape from where it hung from his shoulders and wrapped it around the widest point of his chest. “Worcestershire, you?”

“Cheshire,” he answered. “Right outside Manchester.”

“Stand in a relaxed posture if you can,” you ordered. “You can let your arms fall to your sides.” Harry did as you told him to. “Now breathe in.” Breathed in, you noted the numbers in your head. “Breathe out.” You did the same again. Muttering them under your breath, you dragged the tape with you while writing everything down.

“And you?” Harry asked, clearly eager to get to know you better while you were this close to him. He didn’t want any awkward tension between the two of you as this almost felt like an intimate moment; you studying him so closely and touching his entire body on your first meeting. Though he was good at knowing when to be professional and when it was okay not to be - and though he knew this was work - he couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t. You were a good friend of Alessandro, just as he was, and so it felt more like two acquaintances hanging out than anything work related.

“Evesham.” You answered, enclosing the tape around Harry’s waist this time. You leaned into him, nose almost touching his chest. You breathed in through your nose, and as discreetly as possible, breathed out through your mouth. Why were you acting up? What was it with Harry Styles that suddenly made it hard for you to function? This never happened. Bending your index finger, you started feeling around for Harry’s belly button to make sure you were on the right spot.

“Never really been to Worcestershire, if I’m- Oh!” Harry looked down at you as you poked his belly button a little too hard.

“Sorry, just needed to know I was directly on your waist.” You leaned down, asking him to breathe in and out again.

Harry watched you write the numbers down. “How long have you been doing this?”

“What?” you asked, putting one end of the tape at the mid side of his neck, following it all the way down to where you knew Alessandro wanted the shirt to end. Which was a little too close to his crotch. “You mean working for Gucci or tailoring people?” You felt the spot where his abdomen ended and his leg began. No, no, no, don’t go there, be professional, you thought to yourself.

“Both.”

You hunched down, getting the right measurements, writing them down, and then going to stand at his back. “Since I was twenty. Alessandro thought I had some talent, took me under his wing, and I’ve been working for Gucci since, tailoring people.” Placing your finger near his armpit, and tracing a line upward, Harry jerked.

“Absolutely not.” He glanced at you now that you were face to face, protecting his armpit while he continued on, “Want me to elbow you in the throat?”

“Preferably not.”

“Then don’t tickle my armpit.” He was so serious it took everything in you not to laugh.

“Well,” you couldn’t help your smile now. “I kind of have to know where your armpit is to do your shoulders.”

Conflict ran across Harry’s face, as if he was debating everything that could go wrong if he let you do it. Slowly, he turned back around, shoulders incredibly tense this time.

“Try to relax.”

“I know I’m about to have a finger jammed up my armpit, I’m unable to.”

The urge to laugh was so immense, but you bit your lips together and quickly ran your finger from his armpit and directly up his shoulder. Harry only winced a little, sighing under his breath as you took the measurements and then went to write them down.

“Sorry,” Harry said as you turned back around to him. “Didn’t mean to turn into a dickhead, but I just hate when people touch my armpits.”

You smiled. “It’s fine. I’m the same with my neck.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded.

“Ever had someone tailor you?”

You huffed, shaking your head. “Nope. I’ll do that myself unless I need someone to do my back.”

“Let me know next time you need help and I’ll do your back.” Harry said. “Maybe wiggle my fingers along your neck or summat to that effect.”

You laughed. “You have free time on your hands now? Aren’t you a busy bloke?”

“Count me in after July.”

“Oh?”

“World tour is over; I get to relax.” He informed, watching as you did his arm. “Going to Italy to relax with some mates and family.”

“How nice.” You said, doing his wrist. “I’m going to Italy as well. Always spend March ‘till August in Florence, then September ‘till February in London.”

“Really?” Harry almost looked a little impressed by your lifestyle, as if his own wasn’t just as adventurous. “Travel a lot?”

You couldn’t help a tiny smile, knowing that no matter how many countries you’d travelled to, Harry had probably done double the amount. But regardless of how well-travelled he himself was, in the low yet curious tone of his voice, you could hear the sincerity of his question. “Mostly between Italy and England, but I do tag along on some of Alessandro’s visits to the States, France, and some other countries.”

“Wicked.” Harry smiled as he noticed the corners of your mouth tip a little upward. “What’s been your favourite so far?”

The eye contact was intense. He didn’t look away, focusing entirely and altogether on you. There was a friendliness to his glance that had you relaxing, which was odd considering how anxious you had been earlier. You were sure that, by this point, Harry had completely forgotten the entire reason why he was here or why it was raining outside. And, to be fair, so had you. This felt like catching up with a friend, the easy chatter you had with one of your mates after months apart.

“I feel like I’m somewhat biased, but Italy. I love my little flat in Florence and that city too much for my own good.” You said, finding the way Harry’s head moved slightly with his huff, endearing. “You expected that?”

“What's not to love about Italy?” he asked, head cocked to the side. “I’m going there this summer, remember? Taking my whole family and meeting some mates.”

“Where abouts are you going?”

“Modena.” He put his hands in his jean pockets, nodding his head as he spoke. “Not really anywhere close to a big city or anything, but I just want to rest once I’m there to be fair. I’m teaching myself Italian at the moment, Alessandro is teaching me some as well.”

“Really?” Your smile grew bigger.

Harry’s smile mirrored yours. “Yeah.”

“Would you understand if I spoke some to you?” The four years you had lived in Italy had made you fluent in their first language. It had been a challenge at first, but you now understood the frustrated Florentine drivers shouting out from their open driver side windows, the old couple owning the bakery near you who loved to mumble, and even the slang some of the interns at Gucci used when they talked to one another. Harry seemed to be able to tell that you mastered this language he had just barely started to learn, but he nodded nevertheless.

“Right then.” He said. “Hit me.”

“Shit.” You mumbled to yourself, getting the measurement tape from the table behind you, completely having forgotten about the fact that you were here for work.

“Is that Italian for ‘oh no’?” Harry teased, making you both laugh, but you quickly shut up as you saw what was next on the list. Hip and seat. Clearing your throat, you turned back to Harry, biting your lip as you hunched down before him. You could tell that he too was a bit taken aback by the completely new position you two found yourself in. He quickly looked away.

“Is it okay if you…” your eyes met. “If you lift your shirt slightly and lower your jeans a tad? I need to measure directly onto your body.”

“Alright,” Harry took a grip of his jeans, shimmying them along with his boxers a bit down his hip. “Yeah.” Taking his shirt up next, the bare skin of his abdomen was there right in front of you.

“Modena,” you started, leaning in as you brought the measurement tape around him. Harry felt your breath brush against his abdominal hair. “Non è troppo lontana da Firenze.”

“What?” he said, eyes glued to the wall right in front of him, hands gripping his shirt hard in concentration. “Didn’t catch that.”

You memorised his number, then said a quick, “You can pull your jeans up and shirt down now.”

Harry did so, watching you stroll back to note his hip. He noticed he was panting slightly, like he had run up a set of stairs. Closing his mouth, he shook his head and willed himself to act normal, to be respectful. It was a little hard, however, when he had been single for so long and a pretty lass stood right in front of his crotch. As you came back and stood in front of him the exact same way as the time before, Harry settled his eyes on the white boards again. This time around, you brought the book with you, wanting the crotch and leg area to be done with as quickly as possible.

“Modena non è troppo lontana da Firenze.” You said again, measuring around the widest point of his seat.

He didn’t respond.

“Harry?”

“Huh?”

You giggled, writing down the measurements before inhaling hugely. Inseam next. “Did you catch what I was saying?”

“No, I-“ He stopped himself as your hand came up to the inside of his upper thigh, not having seen it coming. “Sorry.”

“No, that’s okay.” You said quickly, doing his inseam, knuckles softly gracing that spot between his thighs.

“I, uhh, I didn’t understand what you were saying.” He admitted quickly, hands on his hips and gaze faraway.

You wrote down the inseam, and got up, taking the book with you. His eyes instantly fell on you as you stood face to face again; him biting his lips together and your eyes big. Turning around, you placed the book down on the table again, running your finger over all the measurements so far.

“Could you come here, please?” You asked, hearing Harry walk towards you, hands on his back and ready for the next steps. You had been a bit scared to command him earlier, but now that you had talked and been between his legs, you felt it almost got a little easier to be around him. As if the awkwardness had gone away. Now you didn’t have to go far to write his measurements because the table and book and pen were right beside you. You walked over to the white board, mentally jotting down how and where Alessandro wanted the shirt to end and how it was supposed to sit on Harry. Meanwhile, Harry craned his neck to watch you. Still wearing your glasses, he watched your lips move as you mumbled to yourself, the dark blue of the rainstorm from the window beside you, made what Harry looked like seem like a painting. The calmness of you against the raging madness outside. He glanced back at the book, then at the soft fabric hanging beside him, mind wandering to the different places these campaigns would take him. He read over his measurements, about to turn the pages to see some of his other lengths and widths, when he felt a sharp pain in his finger.

He hissed.

You glanced over at him. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” Harry was fast to answer, putting his index finger in his mouth to get some of the blood off his finger.

Walking back over to him, you didn’t pay much attention to how he was quick to put his hand behind his back again where it had been earlier. “Modena isn’t too far from Florence.”

Harry’s brows met above his nose, feeling a little lost at first, but as he slowly started putting two and two together, his grimace evaporated. “Modena non è troppo lontana da Firenze.”

You nodded your head twice, giving him a little smile. “Esattamente.”

“Exactly.” Harry translated.

You raised your hand, offering Harry a high five which he happily answered. What he forgot in that second however, was his minor accident just a minute earlier. Right before your hands met, you noticed his finger, and your eyes went immediately to his.

“What happened to your bleeding finger, mate?”

“Oh-” Harry looked at it, looking unsure for a second before he huffed. “Oh that,” he huffed. “That’s nothing.”

You crossed your arms. “You’re bleeding.”

“And you’re a tailor.”

“What…” You shook your head. “What’s that got to do with this?”

“Thought we were stating the obvious.” He shrugged. “Just a papercut. I’ll survive.”

“Of course you’ll survive, just wondered how you were able to start bleeding out of nowhere.”

Harry chuckled. “Not to worry, I’ll be able to use my hand as normal in no time.”

“Knob.” You mumbled automatically, immediately regretting it. That was not at all professional. And you were in a very professional setting. You were at work. You couldn’t call your client a knob right to his face. Oh my god oh my god oh my god, you thought to yourself trying to row yourself back to safe territory. You scrunched your nose up as you inhaled sharply. “Can’t even remember the last time I got a papercut, to be frank.”

“Speaking frankly now, are you?” He joked. You looked up at him again, and a second after your eyes met, you both started laughing. You put your hand to your heart, shaking your head at how silly the two of you were when you were under strict orders from Alessandro to get Harry’s measurements. But the fact that he hadn’t taken you calling him a knob seriously, the fact that he was able to joke about it and take the piss, it made it impossible for you not to laugh with him.

Your eyes met, both teary eyed from laughter.

“What’s knob in Italian, anyway?” Harry asked, making you laugh even harder.

And that launched the two of you into easy conversation. Almost a little too easy for the two of you to just have met. The fact that you were in a work environment didn’t seem to face you at all, which was incredibly refreshing for both. The seriousness of the meetings you had to endure most of the time so unnecessarily boring and dry that this was like a breath of fresh air. Alessandro had been right when he said you had loads in common, which you figured out in between you taking his measurements. There didn’t seem to be a topic untouched at the end of Harry’s session, and though he was done with his measurements and such, he stuck around. You two stood by the table you stood at earlier, you still holding onto the tape like once you stopped, Harry would immediately leave. Neither of you noticed how the door opened slightly. Didn’t notice Alessandro looking through the crack and at the two of you, having heard voices from behind the door when he came back from his meeting. He smiled to himself, seeing Harry laugh at something you said before he closed the door again, leaving you two to it.

You became fast friends. Though you could go a week without texting, or a day without thinking about one another, you still knew that when you next met up, you would pick up where you left off. You had formed an easy friendship like that, one which you both appreciated and knew you could come back to without problem. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you would befriend someone as high profile as Harry Styles when working as a tailor. You hadn’t really thought you would befriend any celebrity when working as a tailor, actually. But here you were, friends with Harry Styles, and not at all thinking of him as someone who made hit singles or who was the new face of Gucci. Someone who made a living off of singing and who had a huge bloody fanbase supporting him. That part of his life felt surreal, but yours and Harry’s friendship was so genuine, so effortless, that you didn’t really care about the other aspects of his life as long as he was a good person.

The second time you met was at the chip shop, The Camp, in St Albans, Hertfordshire, where the photoshoot and commercial would take place. It was cloudy, the skies a dull grey that threatened with rain, but you knew would just fly right by without interrupting the film crew. The wind was annoying however, bitter at the touch, but you knew Harry was a warm blooded person and would have no problems exposing his chest and hands to it. You strolled up to the Camp School parking lot that was littered with cars and a huge white truck where you knew Harry would be, getting ready. Alessandro had other business to attend to and most of the people on set worked for Gucci, but you were there to see that the suits you had made were okay and that they properly fit. For the first fitting some weeks ago, you had been busy with another client, so Alessandro had done that himself. But he still wanted someone on sight in case something happened, because no way in hell were anyone but him or you allowed to repair a pair of torn trousers or a ruined shirt.

You knocked on the door of the truck, heard a “Come in”, and stepped inside. Harry was sitting in a makeup chair, a woman doing his hair and make-up, readying him for his first ever Gucci shoot. He opened his eyes, meeting yours in the mirror before him. Your smiles were identical when you realised who you were looking at.

“Knob.” You said, standing by the wall behind Harry.

“Wanker.” He answered, grinning at you. “You alright?”

It was something the two of you had fallen into the habit of calling one another ever since the ‘knob’ incident of your first meeting. No one really understood why, especially not the people around you. Alessandro, who thought he had been the mastermind behind a match made in heaven, was surprised to see just how good friends the two of you were. Seeing you two hit it off in his office at first, he had immediately thought he had done it, found each his friends a potential partner, but after months of nothing romantic happening, he had given up. It was clear the two of you just looked at each other as friends and nothing more. Very good friends at that.

“Yeah,” you pointed your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing out beyond the door you had just walked through. “Looks like it’s about to rain.”

Harry chuckled. “Worried about that, are you?” He thanked the make-up artist before he got up, gesturing for you to walk out first.

“Yes.” You answered, stepping out of the van. “You’ll look like a maniac if you get wet in that.”

“A maniac?!” Harry sounded appalled. “You might have to elaborate on why.”

“Wet hair, wearing a suit with no shirt, striking orange necklace, and holding a chicken?”

“No, that’s art, babe.”

You laughed. The two of you started strolling towards the chip shop.

“If anything, I’ll look irresistible wearing this and being soaked.” Harry said, saying a quick ‘hi’ to someone walking by. “You won’t be able to resist me.”

You huffed. “If I saw someone walking down the street looking like that, being soaked through, I’d have my pepper spray ready and already dialling 999.”

“Admit it, you’d not be able to keep your hands off me.”

“Why are you so obsessed with me thinking you’re fit?” You laughed. A short silence followed. Your knuckles brushed against one another. Something warm lit up your chest for a single second. Harry just looked at you for a moment, as if seriously contemplating the question. But before you got the chance to look to your left and at your mate, to make sure he was fine, someone interrupted.

“Harry,” one of Glen Luchford’s assistants walked toward the two of you. “We’re ready for you.”

The photographer stood beside the art director – Christopher Simmonds - further down the street, just outside the chip shop, talking amongst themselves about something. A slight breeze blew past you, Harry’s cologne graced you for two lovely seconds as you watched the man himself follow the main photographer’s assistant. You were a couple of steps behind them, standing by yourself and watching the whole commercial unfold. Harry was handed the chicken, who flapped its wings upon being in Harry’s grasp. The look on Harry’s face had you laughing, and Harry immediately looked over at you, giving you a stern look. However, you were laughing, so it was hard for him not to crack a smile as well. Your phone vibrated in your pocket some minutes later, and you walked a distance away as not to be in the way.

“Lallo, hiya.” You greeted, scrunching your nose up as you felt the first droplet of rain hit it.

“Il mio amore,” Alessandro greeted, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. “How’s the photoshoot?”

“Not really done much yet, but everything’s fine so far.”

He sighed again. “I am glad to hear. Did the suit fit nice like it’s supposed to?”

You glanced at Harry over your shoulder, standing on the pavement further down, ready to film. He ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the white sky with big eyes. It was almost as if you could see the peaceful green of his irises. His neck was stretched as he bowed his head back, closing his eyes and letting a few raindrops fall into his face. He looked almost dreamy; peaceful for a few moments as he collected himself. Someone shouted something and Harry blinked his eyes open, looking at the director. Suddenly, his eyes went to you, but they flickered away just as quickly. You looked away.

“It fits.”

“Nothing bad’s happened?”

You kicked at a stone on the ground. “What does that mean?”

“Harry ruining the suit.”

You huffed out a small laugh through your nose. “Do you have that little faith in him?”

“He gets clumsy when he’s nervous.”

You frowned. “Harry isn’t nervous.”

“Are you sure?” Alessandro asked, you could tell he was narrowing his eyes and putting his hand on his hip. He was challenging you. “Really sure?”

“Look,” you started walking towards the make-up van, aware that you most likely had to go get the make-up artist and hairdresser out if it was going to start raining. “Everything’s okay. There’s nothing to worry about. If you were worried this was going to be a fail, why didn’t you prioritise this event?”

“Fine, fine. It’s not you I’m worried about, no? It’s that…” Alessandro paused for some seconds. “It’s Harry’s first Gucci shoot and I’m not there. What if something goes wrong?”

“Then I’m there to fix it. Why I’m here, remember?” You spotted the van. “I’m your eyes, ears, and hands today.”

Alessandro laughed. “Il mio amore, what would I do without you?”

“Do not know. I really don’t.”

He laughed again and you two hung up just as you knocked on the door to the make-up van. Informing them that it was drizzling out and that they might have to come do a touch-up if it got worse, you walked in as they got everything they needed. A selection of suits hung on a rack on one end of the van, some twins in case something were to happen, and others were lone ones. Regardless, you always found Alessandro’s ability to make clothes into a form of art so inspiring. It was what made you want to work with him in the first place. An abundance of colours and fabrics, of softness and roughness, of modern and rustic. The things he thought to make you’d never in your wildest dreams think of, which made doing anything for him so fascinating. Always something new, always something spellbinding.

You followed the crew out and in the direction of the shoot. It wasn’t drizzling as much anymore, but this was still England, something that meant it would happen anytime soon. The artists were chatting amongst themselves as you made your way over, you read over an email on your phone. Suddenly though, the heels that had walked right beside you stopped. You glanced up from your phone, over your shoulder at the three ladies you had gotten to help you. They stared straight ahead, and when you averted your eyes, letting them land on what they were seeing, you almost dropped your phone.

The hen Harry had been holding was flapping about, two crew members chasing it while a third one ran over to help. Someone was shouting “Stop recording” and someone else “Get the fucking chicken”. But the worst part of it all – at least for you – was Harry getting up from the asphalt. There was a furrow to his brows as he checked his suits for scratches, stopping when he saw the rip at his knee. Your brain immediately flashed back to what Alessandro had just told you.

Harry’s eyes shot up, hastily scanning the crowd around him, and you quickly realised he was looking for you. Stepping forward, you saw him relax some when his eyes landed on you. He jogged over, groaning through his teeth.

“I-“

“-Get to the bloody van, I need to take a look at the rest of your suit.”

“But there’s only the knee.” Harry said as you two started walking.

“I’m not taking your word for it.”

This seemed to become a theme for Harry’s shoots. His anxiety would get the better of him, though he did get more confident with each one that went by. It wasn’t something he was amazing at at first, but something that grew on him overtime. Just like the seasons changed from winter to spring to summer, Harry slowly got his feet off the slippery ice he seemed to have been on that first shoot in England.

However, a few months later, you were back in Italy, doing another shoot with Gucci. Harry was wearing one of the suits you had tailored for him; a checked one, a blue shirt, a silk bandana around his neck and another one in his hair. Since the last shoot, the two of you had talked over the phone, texted, and sent each other funny memes on Instagram. You hadn’t met up a whole lot, maybe the odd café trip or two with some friends, but nothing beyond that. So, meeting him in Italy, your second home, was incredibly special to you.

You were on the outside of Rome, Villa Lente, and you had spent most of your morning yawning and getting looks from Alessandro when you did so. Harry yawned with you when he caught you doing so, the two of you giggling at how ridiculous you were being. With raised eyebrows, Alessandro watched the two of you, giving you a slight flick to the arm when you distracted Harry.

But it was when Harry was perched on the stone wall, dragging some hair out of his face as he placed himself steadily on it, that was then it happened. The sun hit him just right, making the ruffle of his curls look like a golden halo around his head; green irises switching to the colour of autumn leaves where the light hit them. He looked ethereal. And in the middle of all of this, Harry reached for the lamb he was supposed to be perching on his shoulders. No one thought Harry would actually fall off the wall. No one thought he was that clumsy. But as he was hurtling towards the ground having lost his footing completely, the realisation that he was indeed that clumsy hit you just as Harry hit the stone staircase beneath the wall.

Alessandro exclaimed a few crude words in Italian, running to Harry’s aid. You stood there blinking, getting yourself back from the slight daydream you’d just had about the poor man that laid on the ground with a dozen people around him. One second he had looked like something straight out of a dream; like an angel that had come down to earth. He had looked too good and you simply had not been able to look away from him. You knew Harry was good looking, you weren’t blind, but something about the sun hitting him like that, when he smiled down at you watching him, how carefully he styled his hair when he at up on that stone wall. It did something to you.

But all of that disappeared right away when Harry hit the ground, exclaiming a grunt of pain. Alessandro was by his side in seconds, speaking so fast you had trouble understanding him. Harry held onto his knee, yet again having ripped the suit and once again bleeding, only this time it was his hand. Why was it always his knee and why did he always end up bleeding? It was only so clumsy a person could get, wasn’t it? And yet, Harry Styles seemed to be proving you very wrong. No one was as easily affected by their anxiety as him.

People crowded him, ready to be of help and to get him standing. It wasn’t like he had broken any bones, because he was able to get up onto his feet without trouble, but the fall had definitely hurt regardless. Your eyes locked as Harry’s arm came to rest around Alessandro’s shoulders, the designer helped him over to the van. Once again, Harry had to change trousers.

“How?” you simply asked, unsure what best way to even address the whole situation.

“Don’t,” Harry shook his head, not in the mood to have you take the mick out of him for this. “Hurts like a fucking cunt.”

Alessandro pinched Harry’s side, making him yelp and put more pressure on his knee than he wanted to, ultimately getting him to gasp. Harry glanced at the designer, an annoyed furrow forming between his brows.

“Why’d you do that?”

“You were being rude.”

“Pinching a wounded man is rude.” Harry removed his arm from around Alessandro, limping towards the van. “I’m getting changed.”

You glanced at Alessandro, both of you knowing that no matter what, Harry would be in a bad mood for a bit now. That always happened when something didn’t go according to plan; he’d get grumpy and need some time alone. One of the assistants was about to follow him, clearly having gotten some orders from the photographer, Glen Luchford, or art director, Christopher Simmonds. You put your hand out warning them from following the already irritated and hurting star of the photoshoot. He just needed 10 minutes to cool off, and then you’d be off after him to make sure he was alright.

Once 10 minutes had passed, you knocked on the door of the make-up van, hearing a grumble of sorts before stepping inside. Harry was standing unzipping his trousers and shimmying them down his hip. It reminded you a bit of the tailoring you had done at the beginning of the year, how he had pushed both his trousers and boxers down so you could get his measurements right. He glanced over his shoulder at you before he sat down, now only his boxers covering the top part of his thighs and crotch.

“Don’t stand there looking for too long,” he said, bending over to get the trousers completely off. “I might end up turning you on.”

You stepped inside, closing the door and walking over to the first-aid kit. You felt Harry’s eyes on you as he sat back, placing the ripped trousers on the chair beside him. Getting some cotton, you put a mild soap on it and poured it under water before walking back over to Harry. You sat down in a chair, getting closer to him, and taking his hand. As you turned it over to look at the scratch on his palm, you could tell that it wasn’t as bad as you’d thought it to be, but it still looked like it’d hurt. Carefully, you dabbed the wound, making sure to clean it up. Harry hissed through his teeth, watching as the cotton came out dirty. It hadn’t been the cleanest ground he’d landed on and you didn’t want him to get an infection.

Getting up, you got another piece of cotton and did the same, dragging the chair even closer to Harry now. Taking his hand this time around, your knuckles brushed his thigh, the dark downy hair you hadn’t noticed till now. How his boxers rested tightly around his thighs, and how far up they were, revealing more than you were intended to see. Your cheeks felt hot and you focused on his hand, lifting it from his leg so you didn’t have to feel his warm, bare thigh against your knuckles. There wasn’t really a trace of any dirt on it now, but you wanted to be sure you’d gotten everything before you let him outside again.

You were very aware Harry could rinse his own wound himself. He didn’t need people to do everything for him, he liked doing most things himself, in fact. And though both of you were sat there knowing you didn’t have to, neither stopped it. Slowly, Harry’s eyes came to rest at your face. They stayed there, just watching you tend to him so carefully. When people go out of their way to help you, to make sure you’re okay, those are the kind of people to hold onto for life. The kind of people who will buy you sweets when you need it on a bad day, who will force themselves to be in a cheery mood to better yours, who will kiss your eyelids when you go back to sleep after a nightmare. The kind of people who will rinse your wound when you get hurt when you’re perfectly capable of doing so yourself.

You didn’t know why you looked up, didn’t know what made you do it. Maybe it was your subconscious that knew if you did, you’d find something you’d been searching for your whole life. Maybe something inside you knew that glancing up, you’d see something you hadn’t before. Your eyes met Harry’s, and though you had stared into them on numerous occasions before, something shifted in that moment. With his hand in your hand, his bare knee resting against yours, eyes glancing intently into yours; it was like something bigger than yourselves took over. You felt it on your heart first, like a warm tingling that spread out to every single one of your limbs and cells. It felt like you were drunk; head hazy and feelings heightened. Everything about Harry before you was greater, brighter; more.

“You need to finish the shoot.” You said, knowing that Alessandro would undoubtedly not appreciate the two of you taking this long.

Harry didn’t answer. He just stared at you, like he was seeing something spectacular for the first time and he couldn’t look away. The look in his eyes softened as he gulped, his Adam’s apple moving with a lump in his throat he clearly had trouble swallowing. For a split second, you could swear you saw his eyes rest to your lips. Following the shape of them, savouring the colour of them. Neither of you realised you were moving in. It wasn’t till the sight of Harry started to blur and the room seem to fill with electricity that you realised just how close you were. You stopped, pulling a bit away till you saw him clearly, but a slight wrinkle to his brows told you he hadn’t appreciated that. Just as you were about to lean in again, to an unknown fate between the two of you, there was a loud knock on the door and a second later it flew open. You pushed away from him, barely even touching his hand as you finished rinsing the wound. Harry blinked, clearing his throat and looking over his shoulder at Alessandro who stood there glancing back at him.

“Well?” Alessandro asked, gesturing behind him at the shoot that had been momentarily stopped.

“Yeah,” Harry said, eyes meeting yours before he dragged his hand out of your grip. “Just a sec.”

Harry got up, walking over to the wardrobe to get changed. Instantly, you threw the cotton away and walked outside with Alessandro, ready to forget the whole moment and never think of it again. But it was easier said than done. The rest of that shoot, that day, that week, it was all you could think about.

Unfortunately, after that shoot, you and Harry hadn’t been able to see one another  It was finally that time of year when you had a bit of time off to relax, and this time it happened to fall in the middle of July. It gave you the perfect opportunity to do nothing more than wander the streets of your home, see some old friends, and fully enjoy the beauties that an Italian summer had to offer. But no matter how happy you were for the time off, it was bittersweet because although Harry had just finished his world tour and now had an abundance of free time on his hands, he was fully booked until you’d see him for your next shoot.

You didn’t fault him for how he spent his time off, he did just get home after a long year long world tour, and that did warrant some time alone. But you did have to admit that you missed seeing him. Somewhere in your mind, you recall him saying he was spending some time in Italy up north with his family, but the dates were jumbled and you didn’t want to disturb his peace. Instead, you settled for knowing you’d see him again in a few short months.

You had set out for the day in order to find some new houseplants, seeing as the young girl who kept yours tended to while you were away - Lilliana - always seemed to let them wilt. It was the most perfect day to stroll down to the market and see some of the florists you’d missed while you were away, what with the sun shining it’s brightest and only the tiniest breeze ghosting by your cheeks. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. This was your time to bask in the sunlight before heading back to dreary London for some time.

Sandals clapping against the cobblestone walkway echoed through the quiet street, the sound of faint music playing from a nearby open window was carried by the breeze, filling in any silence that would be there otherwise. This was the life you had dreamt about as a child, the kind of life that you only got to read about in books or watch in films, yet here you were. It was yet another reason you had to be thankful to Alessandro for.

“Mi scusi, signora.”

You often walked down the small side street with your eyes closed briefly, not only knowing it like the back of your hands, but also basking in the warmth of the sun, so it wasn’t anything new to have someone speak up to let you know they were near. But something about that voice was familiar. Like when you walk into your home for the first time in a while and you can smell you. Like you can’t exactly put a finger on it, but you know it’s familiar, so you investigate. Which you did, and it caused you to gasp.

“Harry?”

“In the flesh.” his smile could rival the brightness of the sun that was shining between in the tall buildings as he walked up the slight incline of the street towards you.

“What are you doing here?”

“Was in the neighborhood and through I’d stop by. See my favorite tailor.” Once he finally reached you, your arms were instantly wrapped around one another, squeezing like you hadn’t just been together weeks ago.

“Wha - how are yo-?”

“Don’t tell me you’re speechless. You? Of all people?” he laughed, pulling away after giving a few rubs to your back.

“I know you didn’t come all the way to Montaione to take the piss, Harry.” you took this time to really look at him after your surprise meet up. He looked remarkable, something that quite annoyed you considering he was dressed so casually. Then again, the man could pull off close to anything. He was wearing a pair of grey trousers; a single pleat running from his waist to ankles down the middle of the leg, a plain white t shirt that perfectly accentuated his dark tattoos, and a royal blue bandana that hung loosely from around his neck. The pair of sunglasses he had worn when walking up to you were now being hung from the bandana so that he could get a better look at you, and if you had to look at his sparkling green eyes for any second longer, you were sure you would combust.

“Despite how easy it is to get under your skin, I, surprisingly, didn’t come here to do anything other than see you for a few hours.”

“A few hours? You traveled down from Modena just to hangout for a few hours?”

“Knew I was in Modena then? Keeping tabs on me while we’re apart, are you?”

Your hand jut out and shoved him hard enough to make him lose a bit of balance while you two started walking down the street, just enough so that he had to take a few steps to the side to stabilize himself.

“Thought you weren’t here to take the piss, knob.”

He laughed, nodding his head and sliding his sunglasses back onto his face. “Alright alright. Truce. But to answer your question, yes I did. That a bad thing?”

“Uh, no it’s not. Just a bit surprising is all. That’s a bit of a journey just for lunch.”

“And I’d make it countless more times for you.”

Over the last two years, you grew to know Harry and when he was being serious or having a laugh, so you could instantly hear the sincerity behind his words. Despite the goofy grin playing at his lips, you knew that he was being truthful, and the thought made butterflies awaken in your belly.

“It’s good to see you, Harry.” the nod you gave was more towards yourself, but when you glanced up at Harry, you saw that he was already watching you, smiling as he took in your relaxed aura.

“You too, doll.”

“How’d you find me, anyway?” just as you did each time you met up, the two of you fell into easy conversation as you made your way towards the village square. Harry was one of those people that you could go months without talking to, yet somehow, the second you met back up again, you were able to pick up right where you left off.

“Alessandro may or may not have given it to me.” his voice was timid, like he didn’t fully want to admit he had asked your boss where you lived.

“Of course he did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s obsessed with you, you know?”

“He’s not.”

“Mhm. Says you’re his shining star. ‘M sure the man would create a whole collection surrounding you if you give him enough time.”

“Says the woman who he looks at like his next of kin.”

“Don’t make this into a pissing contest, Harry. You know he adores you.”

“Just him?”

It felt like spending time with a lifelong mate when with Harry, but when he said shit like that, when he made your tummy flutter with his mix of words and longing gazes, it made it hard for you to see him as just a friend.

“Didn’t you say that you only had a bit before having to get back?” you changed the subject quickly, not wanting to answer his question.

“Not get back, ‘m not headed back to Modena.” he shook his head when you sent him a soft, questioning ‘no?’ “Nope. Flying down to Sicily for a few days for Google Camp.”

“Google Camp?” your eyebrows shot up in question when he told you, “A sumit for the rich and famous to talk about climate change while flying in on private jets and yachts. How very unlike you mister Styles.”

“Oi, lay off. Got invited, didn’t I? Wasn’t going to turn it down. Besides,” he shrugged, “‘M flying commercial and carpooling. Being as eco friendly as possible.”

“Course, of course.”

“I have four hours until my flight, so just shut up and come get lunch with me.”

The room had gone totally dim during your trip down memory lane, indicating that it was time for everyone to begin getting in their places so that the show could begin. But even in the low lighting, it wasn’t hard to miss the look of fear and doubt flash through Harry’s eyes. The look was something that appeared before every shoot or campaign you had been present for, only lasting seconds, yet always intriguing to you. The man before you was a superstar, someone who pranced around on stage in front of tens of thousands of people every night, without a care in the world. Yet, as soon as your exquisitely tailored clothes touched his body, his shoulders would tense, and he looked like a scared child. You’d never understood why.

“You’re nervous.” It came out as more of a breathy statement than a question.

“‘M terrified.”

You heard those words regularly from your models, especially the new ones, but hearing it fall from between his lips made your stomach tighten. Harry was such a natural at all of this; the superstardom. It was easy to tell that he felt right at home while on stage, how perfectly natural his body reacted whenever the camera was on for a red carpet, how easy going he was when it came to hair and makeup and outlandish outfits. All of it came so easy to him and it blew you away every time you got to witness it. And while he was so good at adjusting quickly to new environments, his team and fans constantly cheering him on with every new endeavor, he was still just a normal twenty five year old guy. He still FaceTimed his mum to get her opinion on new looks, still went out and enjoyed his free time with mates, and still got anxious when trying something new. He never seemed to want to disappoint you or Alessandro when he was wearing the clothes you’d made for him specifically. That was what got to him, you thought, the prospect of ruining spectacular clothes you’d made from scratch. The moments in time you’d just thought back on was indicator enough.

“It’s gonna be great. We saw you during the runthrough yesterday.” you smiled, reminding him how well he had done during the practice show.

“But that’s different. This time it means somethin-” he was cut off by Alessandro yelling it was time for all models to officially line up for showtime. “What if I go too fast and I step on Mae’s shoe, fuck up her walk? Or too slow and clog up the entire runway? Or the hat fal-”

“Hey!” To stop his incessant worrying, your hands grabbed either side of his face, making him stop for a second and look directly at you. He blinked once. “Stop it. You’re going to do amazing. Alessandro wouldn’t have put you in this show if he didn’t have complete confidence in you. And you should know by now I wouldn’t have wasted my oh so precious time making any of this fit you perfectly if I didn’t believe in you.”

Harry’s breathing began calming down, going from almost hysterical to a gentle, rhythmic, intake, indicating that he was coming out of his panic bubble. His eyes never left your own, quite different from all the times they had openly roamed your figure.

“You can do this.” You whispered, nodding slightly and sending him a loving smile as your hands dropped back down to your sides,

Alessandro’s voice yelled over everyone, demanding everyone be in their place immediately, but Harry made no move to leave your side. He continued staring at you, taking a few deep breaths every few seconds and nodding to himself, seeming to give himself a pep talk in his head. The lights went out in the museum, leaving the audience in complete darkness, and you knew the intense sound of an alarm would soon be echoing through the building to start the show.

But none of that held your attention.

In what could have only been a second, Harry’s lips were pressed against yours. It was so quick that you didn’t have time to register what had happened before he was turning to run and join the other models, but it left you stunned. Like being in the warmth of your home during a snowy day and suddenly opening the door, letting the freezing wind hit you in the face.

And as much as the kiss had taken you off guard, it felt so very right that small second it happened. He hadn’t even given it a second thought, leaning in to kiss you like the two of you had been an item for years and it was part of your normal everyday routine. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, and the thought alone made your fingertips ache to be on his skin again. Shaking yourself out the haze that had formed around you mind, your focus and priorities flipped like a switch as soon as the siren began playing, looking around the room to make sure everyone and everything was where it needed to be.  

Just as the precession of models began exiting the dressing room, and The Shadows Die Twice by Br1002 ranging throughout the museum, you made your way up to stand beside Alessandro. There was never a time you saw him truly stressed; not when you first started working with him and you accidentally ruined an entire bundle of fabric, not when he was in charge of creating dozens of different looks for the Met Gala, and not even now, watching as his newest collection strutted down the runway, making its worldwide debut. He was the epitome of cool, calm, and collected.

“There she goes.” You admired, resting your head on your boss’ shoulder and watching all 217 of the looks he created and you helped bring to life, be released into the world.

The sense of pride that rushed through your veins each and every time you got to see the pieces you put your heart and soul into, was similar to what you could only imagine it was like for a parent to watch their child flourish. You could remember all the moments during the months leading up to the show that you wanted to quit, when you would get so frustrated with Alessandro and his brilliantly creative mind every time he brought you a new look idea, how badly you wanted to scream after pricking your fingers so much they started to bruise. You remembered all of those times when holding such an important job at Gucci felt like something you just weren’t ready for at the age of twenty four. But every hardship was worth it the moment your work came to a culmination. This moment of absolute pride and excitement.

“How are you feeling?”

Alessandro wrapped his right arm around your shoulder, pulling you so close to his body that it was most comfortable for you to wrap one arm around his back and one around his waist, your hands joining together at his hip. “I feel so much love.”

That was the only way to describe what the two of you were feeling as the show progressed through the museum. Even though the room was dark, tall lighting setups hung in every direction, and hundreds of guests were posted up in chairs, the beauty of the location still shined through. Black and white marble covered the floor throughout the entire building, the diamond pattern flowing easily from room to room, and sculptures of ancient men lined each side of the hallway, seemingly growing from the walls because of the similar colors. About halfway down the hallway, models made a left turn and entered the large area known as Palazzo Nuovo. The “New Palace” was constructed over 400 years ago and was an identical replica of the Palazzo dei Conservatori that Michaelangelo created. You had been to the location many times before since spending 6 months at a time in Italy, but you had never seen it as a place to hold a show. Not until Alessandro had brought you one day and explained his vision as you roamed the hallways.

The quick pass of a red beret on one of the monitors, set up for the backstage team to watch the show, caught your attention. He stayed on camera for a bit, and you wished you could watch his fans meltdown over it in real time because he looked exquisite. Despite the darkness of the room, Harry was glowing. The way the strobe lights would hit his face every few steps and accentuate his already angelic features made your stomach clench. You had spent countless hours up close and personal with Harry, while there was very little fabric covering his body; very intimate and unforgettable moments. Many a-second-too-long looks, smiles when the other wasn’t watching, and an intense almost kiss. And an actual kiss. A tiny kiss. A kiss you still felt on your lips. But now, you were getting hot and bothered thinking about his lips while he strutted down the runway in one of the most conservative outfits of the line.

There was something about the lapel rolls of the jacket flapping open slightly with each step, beautifully showcasing his sparrow tattoos and delicate pendant necklace under the dim lights, that excited you. But it was the faintest smile that graced his lips the second before he left frame that made your heart swell.

The overall look he was sporting was extremely similar to that of his first Men’s Tailoring campaign, with the long robe like jacket and exposed chest, but the glint of both happiness and confidence in his eyes reminded you of the moment you put him into the pink and red ensemble of his latest campaign. Something that still made something inside your tummy flutter and the corners of your mouth tip upward.

“Absolutely fucking not.” Harry said. “I will die. 100%.”

“Stop being so dramatic.” You rolled your eyes, holding the pink blazer up and letting him put both his arms through it. “It’s just pigs.”

“That will have my head if I get too close.”

“This is a Gucci shoot, you’re not on I’m a Celeb.”

Harry huffed, looking at himself in the mirror and adjusting the blazer over his shoulders properly. “Watch me go on I’m a Celeb and die when I get attacked by an exotic animal or summat.”

“A pig won’t be the death of you and it’s not an exotic animal, now shut up and sit down.” You wagged the red bandana at him. “I need to put this on you before we can get this started.”

“Alright then.” Harry shoved his wrists out for you. “Go on.”

You tried to give him a disappointed look, but you simply were not able to. Laughing, you shoved Harry into his seat, standing between his legs as you tied the bandana around his head. This time around, the shoot was mostly indoors, so there weren’t many ways Harry could fuck this one up. Alessandro was busying himself and so were other crew members, walking about you two and shouting orders at someone else, but neither of you noticed anyone but the person before you. Since the lunch in Florence, you had been incredibly busy, so you hadn’t really had much time to meet up. Harry, who was currently travelling and making his second album, hadn’t been available much either, but you were both over the moon that you got to spend this time together. You really missed each other the time you were away.

Since last time, Alessandro had gone out of his way to make rings for those he held dearest. Gold Gucci rings with each person’s initials, one for each letter, big and bold. It had taken you off guard, as you hadn’t thought yourself to be as important to Alessandro as he was to you, but he had insisted and showed you his own. He told you “Dear friends match” and that did it for you, you simply had to wear his rings without question. And since then, you had been wearing them every single day. You felt part of his little family. So when Harry showed up to your third shoot together, wearing matching rings to yours, you felt your heart skip a beat and Alessandro’s knowing eyes on both of you. He would never admit it out loud, but he knew how you both felt for one another, and he thought, by giving you these rings, you might realise how special you were to him and then see how special you were to one another as well.

“You’ll just have to forget about your fear of geese and be a professional.”

“I don’t have a bloody fear of geese.”

You shrugged your shoulders, tying the bandana properly.

“I don’t!”

“Alright, mate.”

Harry paused for a second. “Don’t ‘mate’ me.”

You shook your head, choosing to ignore the comment and how it made literally every inch of your body heat up. Taking a step back you studied him, giving him a thumbs up before you walked over to the other suits you had to check up on for the shoot. Harry watched you for a few seconds before he got up from the chair, going to check himself out in the mirror again. Your phone suddenly vibrated against the desk right in front of the mirror, and Harry’s eyes instantly fell to it. A furrow appeared between his brows.

“Who’s Jack?”

You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Harry read the text you just got. “Hey!”

“Who is he?” he asked again, looking over at you as you came rushing over. You took the phone, pressing it to your chest as if it was going to make Harry forget what he’d just read. He tried to add a playful undertone to his voice, a slight smile across his lips.

“None of your business.”

Harry looked away from you, nodding as he busied himself with trying to get some kind of lint off his coat. “You’re right.”

You put the phone back in your jean pocket and walked over to the suits again, hunching down to check the seam on the hem on the trousers. You felt your phone vibrate with another notification or vibrate as a reminder that she’d gotten a text two minutes prior. Getting up and about to reach back to check what Jack had wanted, she felt a breath against her neck.

“You’re seeing him then?”

You jumped, holding your hand to your chest as you turned around to face him. “None of your business!”

“Oh, come on!”

You shoved him out of the way, way too much to do to be distracted by Harry’s nosiness. Strolling over to the desk, you started looking through your calendar when Harry showed up beside you again. Leaning on his elbow on the desk, he looked up at you, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible considering how curious he actually was.

“Is he fit at least?”

“He’s not annoying.” You said, covering his face with your hand. You felt him smile into your palm. “Ever tried that?”

“Tried being annoying?” Harry asked. “Wouldn’t know where to start.”

You shoved him away, making him lose his balance some and lean both his elbows on the desk. He watched as you walked back to the suits, looking at which ones Alessandro said were to be used by Harry and which ones were to be used by someone else at another time. Just as Harry was about to ask another question about Jack – who was just a mate from back home you hadn’t ever talked to him about because he’d never come up in conversation -, there was a knock at the wardrobe door. Alessandro stood there, a raise to his eyebrows and a small smile on his lips that was almost hidden by his dark, thick, long beard. He’d stood there watching you two for a little while, you thought to yourself.

“Is Harry ready for the shoot?”

“Yes,” you glanced at Harry and pointed at Alessandro. “Go.”

Harry sighed but got up, walking over to Alessandro who was smiling, encouraging Harry to do the same. As he passed him, a small beam was on Harry’s lips, but as he walked through the door, you couldn’t tell if he was still smiling or if he just did it to Alessandro wouldn’t make him. The creative director looked over at you, crossing his arms but not losing his smile.

“What?”

Alessandro shrugged.

“No, what?”

“You could’ve at least told him who Jack was.” Alessandro chuckled.

You rolled your eyes.

“But I get that you want to watch him suffer. It’s funny seeing someone you like be jealous.”

“Harry isn’t jealous.” You said, closing the calendar and placing it neatly back on the desk. “He’s just nosy.”

Alessandro didn’t say anything in response, instead he just walked on over to the shoot, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You weren’t really sure why you hadn’t just told Harry who Jack was. It wasn’t like anything was going on between you and Jack, you were simply mates and he wanted to check up on you and see how things were going. You had absolutely nothing to hide. Especially nothing to the point of keeping your phone close to your chest so he wouldn’t reread the message you’d just gotten, holding no significance whatsoever.

Maybe Alessandro was right. Maybe you did want to see if he was jealous or not. But he didn’t seem jealous to you, just his nosy self. Sighing, you followed Alessandro, ready to be of service if something should go wrong. They hadn’t even started shooting when you walked into the room, they were still walking around, placing the different statues and other props around the place to get it to look exactly like the producer wanted it to. You stood watching for a bit, knowing that your phone was still in your back pocket, untouched since Harry had seen the innocent text from Jack.

Suddenly, you felt a presence behind you, saw a shadow mingle with yours, and you recognised the messy hair and the bandana you’d wrapped around his head earlier. Smiling, you continued to stare ahead, waiting a minute before Harry felt brave enough to answer.

“Did you answer Jack then?” You felt the breath of his words against your hair.

“He just wanted to know how I was, Harry.”

“I know.”

You bit your lip, not looking back at him.

“Guess he just wanted to talk. To feel close to you in a way.”

You huffed, standing your ground and not looking back at him like you knew he wanted you to. “And the point of this is…?”

“Being close to someone you love can calm you down.” Harry said, voice low so only the two of you could hear him. You felt a shiver run up your spine. “Like shelter in a storm; entering a small house and staying for tea before braving the terrible weather again, a little stronger this time with some motivation from those you… hold closest to your heart.”

Your breath hitched somewhere in your throat, feeling both Harry’s breath and eyes on you. It took everything in you not to look at him, to see his soft expression after uttering those equally soft words. “I’m not in love with Jack, Harry.”

Harry was quiet for a second before he said, with the hint of a smile in his voice, “Okay.”

You smiled yourself, wanting to say something in response but not knowing what would be appropriate. You weren’t even sure why you were feeling this much or why Harry being elated you weren’t seeing someone made you this happy. He stood right behind you, just as close, not wavering, till he had to go do the shoot. Walking backwards, he made sure to catch your eye, give you a small smile, before going to do his job. You hated how your cheeks felt hot, that every single time Harry’s dimples appeared you heard something inside your head scream and the every single one of your cells react to him. Glancing over at Alessandro, you caught the creative director watching you with a grin on his face. As soon as your eyes met, though, he turned away, forcing his smile away and pretending like he hadn’t seen a thing. You rolled your eyes, focusing all your attention on Harry, who didn’t let his anxiety get the better of him this time around.

“He’s doing very well.” Alessandro commented, his left hand resting on his chin in a pondering manner.

“He is.”

“Because you replaced his nerves before the show.” From under his hand, you could see a small smirk playing on his lips, his eyes never leaving the monitor.

“I - what?” Lifting away from his side, you stared at Alessandro’s face. And your wide eyes must have made you look like a deer in the headlights because he started chuckling.

You were positive that no one had seen your moment with Harry, considering how dark the little corner you were stood in was. Backstage at a fashion show was crazy enough, there’s no way anyone had been paying attention to the tailor in the back of the room. But the knowing look in your boss’s eyes told you otherwise.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you muttered, folding your arms across your chest.

“Eyes all over my head, il mio amore. I see everything.”

Alessandro had been like this from the moment he introduced you and Harry, almost two years ago at this point. Always motioning from across the room for you to stand just a bit closer to Harry, informing you whenever Harry was remotely near the office, and always leaving the two of you alone each time he was scheduled for a fitting. It was like he was making it his life’s mission to get his two prodigies together.

“Don’t laugh at me. This is your fault, you know?”

Feigning offence and his hand moved from his chin to his chest, Alessandro turned away from the monitor to finally look directly at you, “Mine? Why do you say that?”

“‘You have a lot in common.’ or how about, ‘look at my two loves together!’ or my personal favorite, ‘The two of you together, assolutamente da togliere il fiato!’”your impersonation of him had gotten extremely good over the last few years, bringing a soft smile to his lips. “Any of those ringing any bells?”

“Only encouraging what you both know to be true, cara.”

“You’re absurd.”

At this point, the first model had made his way back to the dressing room, immediately going to line up for the final walk through. It was scheduled to be a quick show, only about thirteen minutes from first walk to last, but you never imagined it would go by this fast. As the models began to line back up, both you and Alessandro separated, going to either side of the line to join the other tailor in making sure each outfit was still in its pristine condition. You you had a few loose threats to snip here, and a broken necklace to dispose of there, but overall, everyone was still looking perfect.

Especially Harry.

His head was craned, watching you as you made your way down the line behind him, and as soon as you stepped in front of him to quickly examine his apparel, he whispered your name.

“Haven’t tripped yet.” he smirked, adjusting the red glasses on his nose.

“I know, I was watching.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. We were talking about you. Turn around.” grabbing hold of his shoulder, you pulled forward, “Making him proud, you know.”

His shoulders relaxed under your palms, like hearing the news of making one of his idols happy set him free and he could now have the utmost fun with the final walk through.

“Alright. Good luck.”

But before you could get to the next model, his hand caught your arm. In any other situation, you’d be annoyed that you were being stopped from completing your job, but the look on Harry’s face made all worries about any other model fade from your mind.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you proud?”

The question took you off guard. Was really that concerned with what you thought of his performance? He was one of the most renowned superstars in the world, who danced his heart out on stage and did what made him happy no matter what others thought. But your opinion was the one who made his hands clam up? And had you ever made him feel like you weren’t proud? You always thought your quick jabs to one another were all in good fun, but maybe you had gone too far and made him doubt himself.

“Always proud of everything you do.”

It was the honest answer. Getting to watch him excel in every aspect of life he threw himself into, make decisions that helped so many people, putting his friends and family first, and making sure he was happy above all else, was inspiring to say the least. There was never a day that went by where you didn’t feel immense pride for even just getting the chance to know Harry. And in that moment, you promised yourself that you would make it more apparent to him from then on.

A large smile spread across his face, and even in the poor lighting, you could see the apples of his cheeks turn a rosey pink. He looked undeniably cute and following your heart as well as Alessandro’s previous encouragements, you decided to take a leap of faith.

“Come find me after the show. Gotta talk.”

The happiness faded from both his face and his eyes, and you instantly regretted the way you phrased your sentence. “Nothing bad, I promise! Just come find me, yeah?”

You had moved on to the next model, giving her a smile and a quick “Hello Mae” and began checking her dress as Harry was still processing your request. His hands were fidgeting with the fingerless gloves and he was undoubtedly about to break skin with how hard he was biting his lip. You felt like a proper idiot for making him nervous again after he was so happy.

“Calm down, would you? You’re starting to stress me out.” you laughed, giving Mae the okay and moving onto the next model. Sending him a wink, you nodded your head, making him well aware of how unserious this conversation was going to be.

A faster paced rendition of The Shadows Die Twice started playing, just as you finished checking over your designated models, indicating that it was time for the final walk through to begin. After these final few minutes, all the garments you had worked tirelessly on for months, would be totally completed. And usually, you would be filled with ease and comfort knowing you would have some time off before your next project. But this time was different.

This time, Alessandro had consulted you on many of the pieces making their way down the runway, showing just how much he valued and trusted your opinion. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would be where you are today, but because of the man standing next to you, believing in your talent and putting your passion to use, you were living out a dream that you never knew you had.

“Thank you.” You whispered

“For what?”

“For believing in me enough to hire me four years ago. For not letting me give up when I was confused. For always encouraging me. Just - thank you.”

“Never have to thank me for those things, tesoro. The potential and passion inside you needs to be explored! I’m honored I get to be the one to help you embrace them!” Alessandro pulled you into a tight hug, the two of you swaying as you watched the models capture the attention of each guest one last time.

Lifting to stand on your tiptoes you whispered in Alessandro’s ear, but even though your statement was barely loud enough to be heard over the booming music, apparently it was just loud enough for your boss to hear, because his head snapped back and he grabbed you by the shoulders, holding you at arms length.

“What?!”

“Mhm.”

“Together?”

“Mhm.” It was hard not to continue your giggles at his bewildered expression.

“How come?”

You shrugged, “I guess I just have a bloody persuasive boss.”

Once again, models began entering the dressing room, but this time, instead of staying in strict model mode, they were letting loose. Smiles were spread all over their faces, rushing to give each other hugs and words of encouragement. It was a beautiful sight to watch, the release of pressure the show brought to the models and the absolute joy they were now basking in.

“Il tuo tempo per brillare, rockstar.” your time to shine, rockstar. giving his shoulder a pat, you watched as he sucked in a deep breath, preparing himself to walk the runway and accept the congratulatory applause about to be thrown his way once the last model had arrived backstage.

It was during this part, for some reason, that you always saw a bit of his nerves pop out. Maybe it was because of all the wandering eyes and unknown opinions, but walking out to thank the guests for attending seemed to be the only thing that ever made Alessandro nervous. And you would never admit it to him, but you enjoyed seeing him a bit on edge, reminded you that he wasn’t just some fashion robot, but a man who just wanted to be accepted for his unique and creative mind.

Your position in the back room made it easy to be a part of both atmosphere’s; the juxtaposition between the loud, bustling back room and angelic, calming sound of Bach - St. John Passion BWV 245: Herr echoing off of the marble walls was like a metaphor for your life these last few months. How at times, everything around you was so busy and fast paced that it was sometimes hard to get a handle on what was happening. But then moments like this happened and none of failures or pricked fingers mattered. Because watching your boss, the man you admired with all your heart and were lucky to call a friend, walk down his own runway, accepting love he deserved, on pieces you had helped create, was the most heavenly feeling you could imagine.

You watched as he made his way through the museum quickly, stopping every so often to bow his head in gratitude and send kisses to everyone in the audience.

“I see why you like this so much.”

Harry stood next to you, hands buried deep in his pants pockets, the long overcoat pushed back behind his arms, just enough that you got a good view of the sparrow tattoos and the very tip of the bird cage on his rib peaking out from under the white tank top. He didn’t look at you, instead, his eyes were trained on the monitor, watching the man who gave you each the chance to flourish in a world you never expected.

“Hmm? Why’s that?”

“Fucking exihlerating walking down that runway.” he admitted, the sentance coming out in a breathy laugh like he couldn’t believe how much fun he had. “Can’t imagine what it’s like for the people that created it all.”

“Yeah, quite hard coming down from a high like this, so he usually takes a week or so off before jumping back into things.” you chuckled, thinking back to when you’d received an influx of text messages the last time Alessandro had gone off the grid, depicting how much he loved bees and would be incorporating them into the new collection after staying on a bee farm for a few days.

“Alessandro did a phenomenal job.” he paused, finally taking his eyes away from the screen and turning his entire body so that he was now facing you. “But so did you.”

If he hadn’t been staring directly at you, he would have missed the roll of your eyes. Of course, you were thankful to be a part of something so extraordinary, but this was all Alessandro. It was all his vision and even though you were asked to help finalize a few looks, this masterpiece was all thanks to him, and you wouldn’t take credit for any of it.

But before you could explain all of that to Harry, he said your name softly, moving a tad closer so your elbow was just barely touching his stomach. “‘M serious. These may have been his finalized pieces, but you quite literally put it all together. There would be no final product without your work.”

“Harry -”

“Don’t ‘Harry’ me, wanker, you’re bloody amazing at what you do. But you don’t need me to tell you that. Everyone walking around this room is example enough.”

Receiving compliments from Harry wasn’t anything new to you. For as long as you’d known him, he was always looking for the good in people and making sure they knew about it. If you had to guess, that was probably one of the his main qualities that initially drew fans in, because all anyone wanted in life was to feel good; appreciated. And that’s exactly what he had been doing for you since the day he walked through your office doors. It was the little things that made your stomach turn to mush; holding your pin cushion when he knew it would make a session easier for you, bringing you a smoothie when you’d told him you didn’t have time to eat before a shoot, sending you funny memes in the middle of the night, or even just seeing his dimpled smile appear when he finally got to see his immaculately executed wardrobe. No matter what the circumstance was, simply being around Harry made you feel happy, calm, and you didn’t want that feeling to ever go away.

“Just look around an-”

“Do you want to go on a date?” when you’d asked him earlier to find you after the show so you could chat, you didn’t exactly expect the conversation to start out so blunt, but he just looked so cute and sincere telling you in his own way how proud of you he was.

“Wh-“

“There’s, um, there’s this really great restaurant not too far from here. Most delicious pasta you’ll ever eat, not to mention the cutest old couple on the planet runs it and they’ll def-“

“I haven’t eaten since this morning, so if you’re going to keep talking, I’ll just go eat this amazing pasta by myself.”

“Yeah, no, you’re right, that was a dumb que-“ it wasn’t his words that made you stop mid sentence, but more the soft smile that spread across his face, his dimple popping out slightly beneath his growing facial hair. There was no hesitation in his acceptance to your dinner date, contrary to what you were expecting, and it made the tips of your ears warm up. “Oh! Um, perfect. Yeah, great. Okay.”

Never had you been so flustered by the man standing before you. This wouldn’t be the first time you grab a bite to eat with him, and definitely wouldn’t be the first time the two of you spent time alone, but the way he was looking at you, like none of what he just did mattered, was definitely a first.

“Okay, um, just get dressed and I’ll meet you outside?”

“‘M serious, hurry up. Might starve to death while you’re busy chatting.” Harry joked, slowly walking away while still facing you, his finger coming out to point right at you, “Then you’ll have to explain to everyone how your desperate need to talk to everyone you come in contact with, was the reason behind the death of the Harry Styles.”

“Oi, fuck off. Says the man who made sure to learn something about every single person setting up the show today. Go get dressed before I slap the Harry Styles.”

The slight shake of his head kept your attention as he weaved his way through the bustling room, back towards the vanity he had claimed as his own. You’d watched the scene in front of you play out many times before; models spread out throughout the room, some having changed immediately into their own comfortable clothes, some tossing their heads back in eased laughter, and some every sitting back with their feet up, enjoying a basket of chips. No matter how each of them decided to unwind after such a monumental show, it never got old. Because just as they did, you had your own post show ritual.

You didn’t divulge in unhealthy foods or put on your most comfortable pair of socks; you organized your kit one last time. From the moment Alessandro sits you down with his new vision until the last model walks off the runway, you know to keep millions of pins, thread of all colors, buttons of every shape and size, and even some super glue on you at all times. They would undoubtedly get used throughout the months of alterations and mishaps, if not by you, then by a member of your team. So, taking a moment to sit and go through everything once the night was officially over was a sort of release for you. A way for you to touch and feel just how much hard work had gone into your work. How the container holding your pins was considerably lighter, the spool of black thread had nearly vanished, and the pile of band aids in the lower pocket was down to three. All signs that you put your heart and soul into this collection.

There was never any guarantee when Alessandro would find inspiration next and when his next project would begin, meaning you never knew when the next time you’d be opening your kit was. But this time, that wasn’t the case. He had planned at least three more shoots before the years end, so you were only allotted a few weeks of laid back free time this time around.

“Packing up so soon?”

“You know how I like to close out a show.” You chuckled, not turning to look at your boss, but seeing his hand reach out and fingertips graze over the very top of your bag.

“How many this time?”

“28 buttons, nearly the entire tin of pins, 64 band aids, and two mini bottles of wine.”

“You should be proud, il mio amore, that’s two less bottles than last time! It’s about progress!”

“Two less because someone yelled at me less this time around.” Finally getting back to your feet, you turned to face him and noticed that he had thrown his hair up to get it away from his sweaty forehead. “No need to drink if you aren’t crying in the fabric closet.”

“Lo faccio solo con amore, Tesoro, lo sai.” I only do it with love honey, you know. His smile was contagious as he took your hands in his own, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Look at how far you’ve come. Such beautiful art comes from these hands.”

“Do you know what you’ll do until the fragrance shoot?”

“I will be taking Vanni to see my brother. A nice peaceful place to become one again. Where will you go?”

“My flat in Florence has been calling my name for weeks, Lallo.” He smiled fondly at the nickname. “Will probably do some redecorating while I’m there.”

“And some dates, no?”

“I really don’t know why I bother telling you anything. Like my father, you are.”

“Well I am the reason for this, am I not? Seems only right that I know all the details.”

“Details of what?”

“How I’m redecorating my flat in Florence.” Your response was quick, and you sent Alessandro a stern side glare so that he knew not to bring up anything of what you were just speaking of.

“Yes, I told her that I expect pictures.”

“Oh, add me to that list as well then! I’d love to see how you decorate. ‘M always looking for new inspiration.”

“Um, yeah sure. You ready?” if Harry could sense how awkward you felt when he joined you and Alessandro, he made no move to indicate it. Especially now, smiling at your agreement.

“Yup. Ready to enjoy some of Earth’s finest pasta.”

“Oh!” Alessandro brightened at Harry’s words, his back straightened, and eyes widened. “Are you taking him to Chiaro Di Luna?” you nodded, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Magnifico! A wonderful place you will love!”

“Well he won’t love it if we keep standing here so…”

“Have fun my prodigies!”

Both you and Harry laughed quietly as you finally walked away from the man of the hour. You may have known him in different ways, but each of you got the chance to see a side of Alessandro most people didn’t – parental type figure who wanted nothing but love and prosperity for you both.

“He’s like that with you all the time as well?”

“Hmm?”

You took a glance at him when pressing the button for the lift, just to be met with his warm eyes already looking at you. He looked handsome after the show – not that he wasn’t always handsome, but something about seeing him work so hard and then look so comfortable made your chest tingle. He was wearing a pair of dark yellow corduroy pants – the flare at the ankles not nearly as large as some of the flares he owns, but wide nonetheless – paired with a red and blue striped shirt, a tiny Mickey Mouse head embroidered into the upper left breast and a black bomber jacket.  He looked relaxed and everything that spending time in Italy embodied.

“Does he turn into dad mode on you as well?”

Harry laughed, “He means well.”

It was no surprise that Harry had brought along a plethora of fans, all eagerly awaiting his presence back outside after the show, so there was no way the two of you could casually stroll out of the front doors to get to your late dinner date. Instead, you were walking through the basement hallway so that you could make your speedy escape through the lower side exit, directly across from Cafe Capitolino.

“You think you’d do another?”

“You think I’d be asked to do another?”

Your hand found it’s way up to his forehead as the two of you strolled through Piazelle Caffarelli - the quaintest little park directly across from the museum. In the bright moonlight, the beds of flowers and statues almost appeared to glow, directing your path through the garden.

“What are you doing?”

“Just checking to see if you have a fever.”

“Huh?”

“You must be sick because I’m not seeing your ego anywhere.”

“Oh piss off.” he laughed, lifting his own arm so that he could slap yours - playfully - away from his face. “‘M serious.”

“So am I. You’re one of the most confident people I’ve ever met. I’ve seen you doing your music thing Harry. You’re good and you know it. Where’s that attitude here?”

He was quiet as the two of you finally made it out of the garden and crossed the main street, focusing on stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets and tugging it closer to his torso. His hair had grown quite a lot since the first time you’d met him years ago, and the curls, wild from being kept under a cap for hours, were blowing in the small breeze.

“‘Dunno. I was nervous when I did the film as well. Guess doing something new like this makes me question if I’m given the chance to do it because I’m genuinely good at it, or just because they want my name on it.”

That was a surprise to you. From the moment you met him, you could feel the confidence he emitted. In fact, it rubbed off on most who were working with him. He made the people around him feel confident in themselves and what they were doing, and always encouraged when someone was feeling down.

“You’re very much wanted on this team for what you bring to it, not your name. I’m sorry if you were made to feel anything less.”

“No!” he quickly rebutted, gaining the attention of the few people wandering the street late at night. But he paid no mind to them, only focused on looking at you to make sure you heard what he was saying cearly. “You haven’t, at all. None of you have. Just don’t want to be known as the guy who gets jobs because he was in a band.”

“Can promise you that Lallo wouldn’t have asked you to be a part of so many shoots and such an important show if he didn’t completely and wholeheartedly believe you were perfect for it.”

You watched him nod and mutter a quiet I guess, the moon peeking over the Gran Caffe Roma and highlighting his eyelashes and very tip of his nose so perfectly that he began to look like a statue.

“Lallo?”

“Yeah.” a quick chuckle left your mouth, a hand coming up to rub your cheek while you thought of your response. “After I finished my first collection for him, it was a small one so he could see if I was right for the position, he took me out for drinks to celebrate me getting the job. Long story short, we both had a few too many and I started calling him Lallo and it just stuck.”

“That’s cute.” his hand was wiggling about, trying to escape the confines of the jacket pocket, and when it finally did, it brushed against your own. You both looked down at the close proximity of your hands and you felt the air immediately get thicker. He must have felt the same because when you briefly look up at him over your lashes, he was staring straight ahead; very apparently trying not to make any sudden moves.

But the millisecond the warmth of skin left yours, you wanted it back. Maybe it was the tiny kiss you shared backstage just hours ago, or the built up tension between the two of you that had started during his second campaign shoot, whatever it was, you were done dancing around the obvious. Without giving it a second thought or looking anywhere but straight ahead, you lifted your pointer finger ever so slightly. Just enough so that it gently rubbed against his. You wanted to give him the option of pursuing anything further, so just as quickly as the contact began, it ended; your fingers settling by your side yet again.

However, the breeze working it’s way between your hands didn’t last long, because almost immediately after your little move, you felt his fingers slowly creep around your hand. He didn’t move fast, almost as if he was letting the calm Italian breeze join your hands together. And slower than you would have liked, your entire hand was enclosed by his, feather touches to make sure the other was comfortable with where things had gone.

You wanted to make sure Harry knew just how okay you were with his hand keeping yours warm, so you continued talking as if nothing had happened. “‘M the only one who gets to call him that though, so don’t go parading around saying it.”

“Loud and clear. Your secret's safe with me.” he laughed, his grip on your hand tightening when a strong gust of wind blew through the small alleyway you were walking down and you shivered, “Cold?”

“No, I’m alright.” you lied, the air outside always making you significantly colder after leaving the sauna that was a fashion show back room.

Instead of letting go of the idea of you being cold, Harry lightly tugged on your joined hands, stuffing them into his jacket pocket, which then forced you to move closer to his side. Italy in May wasn’t a time you would consider cold; the sun shone nearly every day, warming your cheeks, and there was no need for anything more than a light jumper, but the warmth radiating from Harry’s side made it feel as if you were strolling around on an August day. But you welcomed it, despite the race of your heart.

“Looking forward to having some time off?”

“Absolutely. I really do need to redecorate my place. ‘M sure Lilliana hasn’t been taking care of the plants as often as I’d like so I’ll have to make a stop and pick up some new ones.”  you were mostly speaking to yourself, so you elaborated when he didn’t respond. “Lilliana is a girl who lives across the street. She’s sixteen, and has been watching my place ever since I started with Gucci. Doesn’t want to get paid or anything, only wants me to get her a meeting with Alessandro when she turns eighteen. Told her I’d see what I can do, but he’s already seen some of her designs. She’s very talented.”

“You’re really wonderful, you know.”

The compliment made the tips of your ears warm, and you were worried that the palms of your hands would start to clam up if you thought about the way you could feel him looking at you, so you quickly changed the subject, your hand clumsily sliding out of his pocket to point at the tiny restaurant in front of you.

“Here we are!”

Nestled at the very end of the alley, was your destination. Only two tables were set up outside, the tiny patio was past picturesque; it was straight out of a movie. A metal fence was surrounding the seating area on two sides - the third wall was created by the muted terracotta building and the fourth was left open for easy access. Wrapped around the very tops of the fence were some fairy lights, not enough to cover the entire thing, but enough to give a bit of lighting on the otherwise dark road, and creating a pathway to the front door, sat a nice variety of potted plants. And with the green doors to the shop left open, the smell of freshly baked bread immediately hit you and Harry in the face.

“This is amazing.” his voice was full of wonder and you appreciated the fact that even he, someone who had been around the world and back many times, never took for granted the small beauties of the world.

“Just wait until you try the food.” you smiled, bringing your hand up to your mouth in a mock chef’s kiss. “Deliziosa!”

The boisterous laugh that fell from between his lips was enough to catch the attention of whoever was working inside. It didn’t take long for them to walk down the front steps, seeing as the inside of the establishment was also small. But the second his face lit up from the wall mounted lights, you smiled.

“Lorenzo! Così bello vederti di nuovo!” Lorenzo! It’s so good to see you again!

“Mio dolce! Mi sei mancato!” My sweet! I’ve missed you! His arms opened wide as he walked down the single step, instantaneously enveloping you in a hug. He smelled of pasta sauce and pizza dough, the evidence of his hard work sprinkled across his withered cheek.

“Mi dispiace! Sai quanto può essere intenso il lavoro! Soprattutto con un capo come il mio!” I’m sorry! You know how intense work can be! Especially with a boss like mine!

You watched Lorenzo’s face light up when he pulled away from you and heard your boss’ name. The two had met ages ago and he was the one who had introduced the two of you. “Ah! Alessandro! Confido che stia bene! E chi hai portato con te questa volta, cara?” Ah! Alessandro! I trust he is doing well! And who have you brought with you this time, dear?

Feeling bad for leaving Harry out of the brief conversation, you angled your body so that you were now facing him, moving your hand between the two men in front of you. “Lorenzo, this is Harry. Harry, Lorenzo.”

True to his nature, Harry immediately stuck his hand out and offered a ‘you alright?’ to the older gentleman, but Lorenzo was having none of that. Completely ignoring the waiting hand, and having to stand a bit on his toes in order to wrap his arms around the younger man’s upper back, he pulled Harry in for a tight hug.

“Any friend of hers is a friend of mine! Benvenuto!”

“Hai un… posto bellissimo qui!” Lorenzo’s smile grew as the two separated and Harry slowly racked his mind for the right words. “Was that right?”

“It was! Thank you, we do love it here!”

“Speaking of..” you cut in, “I know it’s late but do you think we could steal a plate or two?”

“For you, mio caro, anything.” he lifted his calloused hand to gently pat your cheek. “Why don’t the two of you sit down and I will bring you a few dishes. I’ve got some fettuccine alla carbonara if you’d like. I’m sure I can find something else if-”

“That sounds wonderful, Lorenzo, thank you.”

You watched as his frail figure made its way back into the shop, taking an extra second to carefully climb the single step. It was the perfect night to sit outside and enjoy one of your favorite meals, but even more perfect to turn around and see Harry holding a chair out, waiting for you to join him at the table.

“Thank you.” you hoped the smirk you were trying to hide wasn’t visible in the dimly lit back alley and he couldn’t tell how much the small gesture made your heart race.

“So tell me,” he sighed once he finally sat down next to you, his forearms leaning against the small wooden table so that he could look directly at you. “You really like the food here or do you just keep coming back because he adores you?”

“I take offense that you think I’d use my charming personality just to get a free plate of pasta.” the stare shared between you both was one of comedy - his eyebrow raised in question and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, “I use it for two.”

“I knew it.”

“It really is the best, swear it! Tried to get him to teach me the recipe once but he won’t budge. Says he won’t allow it to leave the family.”

“He always here this late? Seems to be a bit… old… to be here at quarter eleven.” he never broke eye contact while speaking to you, but his fingers began to roam around, slowly inching towards your own empty hands. There was no move to do anything more than brush his fingers against yours, but you longed for him to envelop your smaller ones in his.

“For as long as I’ve known him. Always comes in to prep for the people who come in at five the next morning.”

“Good bloke.” he nodded, craning his neck a bit so he could look around him, “You know, I’ve always wanted to have my own restaurant.”

A deep belly laugh spilled from your lips upon hearing his words, your body’s finally making contact when you lifted your hand and placed it on his forearm to ground yourself.

“What’s so funny about that?” his voice held a certain aura of feigned offence, but you knew not to take it too seriously by the bright smile covering his face. It was a different kind of smile than you were used to seeing him give, but you welcomed it and never wanted to see it end. It made the corners of his eyes crinkle a tad more than normal, mouth open a bit wider, and entire body lean forward.

“Harry, I’ve known you nearly three years. Never once have I heard you mention wanting to have your own restaurant. I’ve been told a lawyer, a florist, even a physiotherapist, but a chef? Can you even cook?”

“Now I'm offended! I’ll have you know that I used to cook for the band all the time!”

“Beans on toast doesn't count as cooking, Harry.”

“Leave off.” somewhere during your mock argument and Harry laughing at you, his hand had fully found its way to yours, wrapping around it carefully as not to disturb the perfect peace the two of you had going. “You’ll just have to come over so I can prove to you just how good I am.”

Obviously he didn’t mean it in any other way than a friend inviting another friend over for a nice meal, but the way his tongue jut out before speaking, leaving his lips shining and nearly begging for attention, made the sentence mean a lot more to you than he led on.

“Well, I’ll hold you to that, mate.”

“Don’t mate me while I’m holding your hand, mate.” you swear it was like Harry was trying to push every single last button you had. Not only was he smirking while giving your hand a squeeze, but with each word, he seemed to be gradually leaning closer to you.

Almost as if he was waiting for the most perfectly inopportune moment, Lorenzo made his presence known with the clink of two wine glasses that echoed through the small alley. The sound made you and Harry separate as quickly as possible and look towards the older man.

“Two dishes of my world famous fettuccine paired with the best bottle of wine you could ask for!”

“But we didn’t ask for wine, Lorenzo.”

“It’s alright because you are new here, but when I give you a bottle of wine, you take it.”

“He says it makes for a better experience.” you shrug, taking the glasses and bottle from the tray so that he would have an easier time setting down your plates.

“Non puoi goderti i frutti del tuo lavoro senza un po ‘di divertimento!”

“Yeah yeah, as you say. Now take this before I stay here all night and give it to Mateo, because you know he’ll take it.” you tried handing him a few folded up fifties, but you weren’t surprised when he didn’t accept, but insead, backed away from your outstretched hand.

“Mio caro, no. I do not want that from you. I just enjoy seeing your beautiful face every now and again.”

“Lorenzo, you know I won’t stop. Please”

“You are too much, ragazza dolce. Please come tell me if you need anything more.”

“What did he say to you just then? I caught fruit and fun but that’s where it stops.” Harry asked as soon as the older man was out of ear shot. He was trying hard to look at you, but the steaming plate of food before you both was enough to pull anyone’s attention away, so you didn’t fault him for being mesmerized.

“Come on, hot shot, have your Italian lessons taught you nothing?”

“Wow you’re really riding me tonight, huh?” if only. “I’m busy alright. Got a lot going on up here.” he used his pointer and middle finger to tap against his temple, “Gets hard to remember things sometimes.”

“You know I’m just taking the piss.” unable to wait any longer, you began to twist your fork in the pasta while giving him an explanation. “Said you can’t enjoy the fruits of your labor without having a little fun.”

“He’s got a point you know.”

“If you try and tell me that I need to be prouder of my work, I will dump all of that food on the ground before you even have the chance to try it.”

“You wouldn’t dare. Not if it’s as good as you say it is.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m serious, love.” Harry had called you many pet names since your first meeting, but love had never been one of them. It sounded so comforting falling his lips, like it was the only word you wanted to hear for the rest of time, and it made your insides instantly warm - and it wasn’t from the wine. “You’re outrageously talented. Everyone on the planet can see it except for you.”

“I’m proud of what I do, Harry. Just don’t feel like it’s right to take any bit of credit for something I only helped put together.” sure, you helped transform the clothing from pieces of mixed matched fabrics into the collections that hit the runways, but they weren’t your ideas or designs, so you felt only fair to give credit where it was rightfully due.

“Alright. Fine then. If you won’t take credit for your work, I’ll do it for you.” he cleared his throat after finishing off his glass of wine, back straightening and his chest puffing out after filling with air. “Hello!” he shouted, followed by introducing your name, “I am the lead tailor for Gucci and I just completed my fourth Cruise Collection!”

“Shh!! Harry!” you really did try to keep it together while tugging on his arm, but you couldn’t help the giggles that escaped as he kept shouting praising about you to the empty Roman streets.

“I’m one of the best in the world and everyone is absolutely dying to work with me!”

“Harry!” you laughed again, this time, cupping your hand over his lips that he couldn’t say anymore. “I get it, my god.”

“Do you? Because I can do it again. Hello -”

“I do, thank you.” your smile was genuine, truly appreciating the fact that he always had such nice things to say about you and your work. “But please just shut up and eat, yeah?”

Finally the two of you were silent, smiling to yourselves so that you could enjoy your awaiting food. Until you weren’t.

A loud moan from next to you quickly made your head snap up in desperate need to see where it had come from. There was no one else it could have come from, but to hear the sound fall from Harry’s mouth wasn’t something you were prepared for. Nor was the sight of carbonara sauce dripping from the corner of his mouth.

“Fuck you were right.” he moaned again, this time much smaller, “This is the greatest pasta on the planet.”

“Thought you would’ve learned by now that there are very few times that’d I’m not right.”

You shouldn’t have expected anything less from the man indoors, who when you looked up over Harry’s shoulder, you saw standing in the window smiling and giving you a thumbs up. Of course he was on the same page as Alessandro and would be trying to put both you and Harry in the mood for a romantic night. But to hear the chords of ‘So This Is Love’ play through whatever speaker he had in his kitchen, really did surprise you.

“Lorenzo!” you yelled, not caring about waking whatever kind of neighbors he had

“What?”

“Really?”

“I just turned on my music, mio caro! Please enjoy your meal.”

Snickering from next to you made you roll your eyes,  “Don’t laugh at him, you’re only egging him on, Harry.”

“‘M not, I’m not!” you sent him a pointed look, taking the last gulp of wine from your glass and pouring yet another. “Alright, maybe just a little. But only because I think ya look cute when you’re flustered, is all.”

“You’re lucky you’re handsome, because you’re a right bellend.”

“Only to a select few!” the sound of his light laugh was drowned out by the creaking of his chair as he pushed it backwards. In a second, he was at his feet, ignoring your question of ‘what are you doing?’ to stand in front of you. “Signora.” his mouth may not have made any movements to smile, but you could see his eyes holding one back.

He mocked bowed, resting one arm behind his back as the other hand engulfed one of your sitting on top of the table. The pads of his fingers caressed the inside of your hand as he gently picked it up, slowly slotting your two hands together. It felt like an out of body experience, like you were watching the scene happen as an onlooker, instead of being a part of it. Because the second he picked his head up from the bow, his eyes met yours. Hundreds of unidentified thoughts raced through your mind and your breathing stopped when he picked up your hand completely, the distance between it and his lips growing short and shorter every second. With one quick, quiet, exhale falling from your lips, he placed a delicate kiss to your knuckles, keeping his eyes set on yours.

It could have been every innocent moment the two of you had spent together over the last two and a half years, or watching him perform his heart out just hours ago in garments that you literally built, or maybe even the way his eyes sparkled in the Italian moonlight, but staring at him as he stood back up straight, his hand still holding yours, you wanted nothing more than to jump his bones.

“Care to dance?”

It wasn’t the spark that radiated through your hands or the wind pulling at your blouse, but the look of endearment in Harry’s eyes that made you stand from your chair, accepting his offer. His free arm wound around your waist while yours rested on his shoulders, your body now flush against his. It wasn’t the perfect setting for be slow dancing; the twinkling lights were barely bright enough for you to see where you were stepping, the cobblestone beneath your trainers made the arches of your feet hurt, and the open space was very limited between the table and building, but the soft instrumental of ‘Bella notte’ playing from inside the shop and the wine flowing through your veins, made it something out of a dream.

The sun shone in through the window and straight into your eyes, making you blink awake with a small wrinkle between your brows. First thing you noticed was that you were sleeping in the cream blouse you had worn the night before, your trousers off and hopefully, you thought to yourself, so was most of your make-up as well. Second thing you noticed was the hand on your hip and the other under your head, the breathing against your skin and the forehead against your neck. Third… was something else entirely…

Memories from the night before came back in bits and pieces, bringing a small smile to your face. How you and Harry had both drunkenly stumbled down the hallway at like one, how you had struggled to get the key to your room in the lock, and how Harry had playfully pushed you out of the way to help you with it. How he helped you indoors, and how you’d asked him to stay. There hadn’t been a sexual intent behind the words, just an infatuated drunk speaking truthfully to another. You remember asking Harry to not look as you took your trousers off, and that you thought it’d be a good idea to take your bra off but sleep in your silk blouse. Harry on the other hand, kept all his clothes on, laying down beside you in bed and told you goodnight before you’d even managed to get yourself properly under the sheets. He must’ve been exhausted. It’d been a long day after all.

You woke up in the spooning position; his arm resting across your hip, breathing onto your skin, forehead against your neck, holding you close. Even before Harry woke up and noticed what was going on, you tried to understand why you felt like something wasn’t as it usually was. You felt Harry’s sharp intake of breath behind you and then him moving his head away from you, lifting the hand that had been placed on your hip, running it over his face. It wasn’t till you were about to turn around to face him that you both realised what was resting between you. You both stopped abruptly, silence filling the room around you.

“Bollocks.” Harry hissed between his teeth, glancing down at where his morning wood pressed against his yellow trousers and your ass and thigh. “So sorry.” He didn’t really know how to move as to not make it worse. Walking away from bed would mean you’d have to see the bulge in his trousers, but staying there would be absolute fucking torture.

You tried your hardest not to giggle, feeling a flush wave through your body.

“I-I… I don’t know what to do now. Sorry.” Harry said, feeling so embarrassed he was unsure what the next right thing to do would be.

Thinking back on everything that had happened, on everything that had transpired between the two of you, you suddenly felt a surge of dominance run through you. The countless times you’d waited for Harry to kiss you, the times he could’ve reached for your hand in the silence of the moment, the hundreds of hours you’d spent smiling at each other. The numerous missed opportunities. All the ‘what if’s. You hated them all, but they’d led you to this moment. It had all came down to this. Here, now. You two, in bed, Harry grunting in frustration into the pillow and you smiling to yourself, not at all sorry for him waking up hard against you. In fact, you didn’t mind it at all. After everything last night, this felt right. After absolutely everything you two had been through, it didn’t feel weird.

You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Harry there with his eyes shut tightly.

“What’re you doing?”

His cheeks were red, obviously incredibly embarrassed about all of this. “Willing my woodie away, what does it bloody look like?”

You couldn’t help your laughter, shaking into Harry who smiled at the sound of your exclamations of joy. Slowly, you moved your arse against him, feeling his erection between your bumcheeks. Harry stilled, watching you with wide eyes as you did it again. Reaching behind you, you took a grip of Harry’s hand that had been on your hip earlier, placing it back there so he could feel you swaying against him. You felt an inhale of breath against you, then Harry’s fingers instantly grip onto you. He watched you as you continued to roll your hips against him, loving the hot feeling it sent to the spot between your legs. You hummed, biting your lip as you glanced down at Harry’s hand on your bare skin, letting him see just how much you liked this.

Instantly, he moved closer to you, wrapping the arm he’d been resting under your neck around you, taking a grip of your shoulder. The other one he slowly slid further down, moving closer and closer to the space between your legs that ached for him. You closed your eyes as he hovered above you, laying his palm flat against your cunt, the breathy and barely audible moan that left your lips driving him insane. Laying some pressure on you, you inhaled sharply, both your hands gripping the arm wrapped around your neck. The heat that had started in the very bottom of your stomach intensified, and got even hotter when he ran his fingers seductively over you. Feather-like touches, soft kisses to your cheek and neck, absolutely nothing mattered but the fire that was being ignited in your core.

Harry pushed your knickers aside, running his ring and middle finger between your folds. While doing so, he pushed your hips to rock against him, causing a friction between the two of you unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. You gasped, opening your eyes and looking at Harry who was watching you more intently than you’d ever seen before. He looked so hot like that, demanding you to please him while he was pleasing you. Wanting to make you feel just as good as you’d made him feel.

You reached down, wiggling your hips as you dragged your knickers down your legs. You threw them somewhere far away before turning back to Harry. This time, you sat up and onto his lap, looking down on him while you rested your hands at the zipper of his yellow trousers. He let out a small breath, heart hammering against his chest as he watched you sit on him like that; look at him like that. He’d never thought he’d be lucky enough to find himself in this position, and yet, here he was. You reached for his zipper, undoing it as Harry did both the buttons. You sat up on your knees helping Harry as he tried to get out of his trousers, but it seemed harder than either of you thought.

“Just get them off.” You said, reaching behind you to push them further down.

“Not so easy when you’re on top of me like that.” Harry answered, sitting up to drag them off. Your faces were suddenly very close.

“Alright, I’ll get off-“

“-No,” he answered abruptly. “Please don’t.”

You stopped, letting Harry take his trousers off and throw them to the ground, not breaking eye contact with you once. You felt him against you, felt how hot he was for you like you were for him; how badly he wanted you. His eyes flickered to your mouth before he glanced back up into your eyes again, lips parting as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know the right words for it. You had taken control so far, so you watched him expectantly, waiting for him to say or do something. And it was as if he knew your thoughts exactly. He took a grip of the back of your neck, bringing you to him.

The second your lips met, you closed your eyes, melting into the kiss and melting into Harry. You hadn’t really shared a proper kiss till now, only having had that small peck and him kissing your hand. But this was a real kiss. You tasted him, felt him. Surrounding you and everything you knew in those sublime seconds your lips were pressed against one another. Heavenly, carefully, gingerly, Harry slipped his tongue into your mouth, and you welcomed him completely. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his. He pulled you to him, devouring one another unapologetically. Now that you were kissing, dragging out the delicious moment, you weren’t holding back anymore. The kisses were hungry, desperate, wet. Nothing had ever tasted better than Harry, nothing had ever felt better than him either. You wondered why you’d waited so long to kiss one another, what had taken so long. Because now you couldn’t think of not doing just that.

You wanted to kiss him till the end of time. Wanted to feel as his hands roamed your body, how his tongue swirled around yours, how his lips got more and more swollen as you continued on making out. Forever, and maybe even longer than that if you were allowed; you wanted to kiss Harry forever. It felt so good, so right. Like tasting every good thing that had ever happened to you all at once, combined into one thing. Harry.

Moaning your name, you felt him grip your bum, squeezing it hard as he dragged you over him. He wanted some friction as bad as you; wanted you. It felt so good knowing Harry was as desperate as you, that he felt the same way and wasn’t ashamed of admitting that he did. You had no idea where your infatuation had begun, had no idea how you had fallen in love with Harry. You just were and that was how it was supposed to be. It had always supposed to be the two of you. Whenever something feels right, you get a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach, like it’s your soul telling you that you’ve reached your final destination; you’ve gotten where you’re supposed to be. And you felt that very feeling right now, in Harry’s arms, kissing him, feeling him hard against you.

You pushed him back down on the bed, bending over him to continue kissing. He instantly gripped your arse again, begging you to rock against him so he could get some small friction. You refused however, and instead buried your hands in his hair, dragging out the tongue filled, wet, lustful kisses. It was excruciating, Harry thought to himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to force you to do anything as he didn’t want this moment to be over. If you wanted to drag this out, then he would not stop you. He was making out with you, you were almost naked on top of him, he got to touch you all over. He wasn’t going to take this for granted.

There didn’t seem to be an end to your kisses, they seemed to be going on and on and on. Not that either of you were complaining, but at one point it was hard to remember how the rest of the morning had gone before you’d started snogging. You suddenly realised just how naked you were, that only your cream blouse was covering your torso, that the rest of you were on display for Harry. But he was way too busy kissing you to pay notice to anything else.

You tugged at the end of his tee shirt and he quickly took it off, letting it fall off the side of the bed before turning his attention back on you again. You ran your hand down his front, wanting to feel his skin under yours unashamedly. Every time you’d touched him before had been under a work setting, but this one was quite different. The hands touching him now were those of a lover, not his tailor. They were the hands of a desperate woman who wanted nothing more than to be with Harry in any way one human could be with another.

Resting your hands at the top of Harry’s boxers, Harry frantically followed your lead, being there to help you get them off. He was ready to do exactly as you told him to, knowing that he was and always would be at your complete and total disposal. As his boxers came off, his cock sprang loose, and you couldn’t help but look down at it. Harry watched you as you took him in, finding you checking him out like this incredibly hot. A wave of excitement and adoration ran through him, so captivated and altogether in love with you that he was sure in that moment and every moment that followed, he would lay down the rest of his life and himself to you wholly.

You took a grip of his cock, looking into his eyes after positioning him right at your hole. He didn’t take his eyes off you, knowing that what was just about to happen would change everything for you and your friendship. Not that all of last night and the rest of this morning hadn’t done that already, but sex complicates things. It’s hard not to form an emotional attachment to those you choose to have sex with, and it’s even harder to forget said person you have sex with if you’re in love with them. But regardless of that, both of you wanted to do this. You wanted to shag; wanted one another.

You guided him into you, holding onto him till he was all the way in. Your lips parted and Harry let out a low moan, your warm walls around him almost being too much to take. Positioning your knees well on either side of his waist, you sat up on his lap again, and started moving your hips over him. Harry gripped your thighs, squeezing them tight and looking up at you with his mouth agape. Your blouse hung loosely off you, unbuttoned to the point of one of your tits showing. It fell off one of your shoulders as you rocked over Harry, revealing even more of you to Harry in the bright morning light.

He moved one of his hands upward, running it up your arm, over your collarbone, to your neck. His thumb ran over your jawline, wanting to feel all of your soft skin under his fingertips. You looked down at him, a moan leaving your lips as your eyes met his. Already the familiar burn of a climax started building up in your core, reminding you of how long it had truly been since you’d found yourself in this position prior to this. Not that it even mattered, because right now you were having sex with Harry and he felt so fucking good inside you and underneath you, you would never get tired of this feeling.

You slid your hands down his front, dragging your nails along this skin till you reached his abdomen, where you let them rest. Harry’s eyes fell to your hands, relishing in the feeling of you touching him everywhere, of you being everywhere. Nothing mattered but you and the magic you were creating between the two of you. The soft skin of the inside of your thighs resting against his hips and ribs, his tattooed arms caressing your entire body. Heavy breathing, the occasional moan.

He moaned your name, hand sliding down your chest, rubbing his thumb over your exposed nipple. The burn in your core was really starting to build up now, and you knew it would burst any second. Harry sat up, wrapping an arm around your middle. You gasped a little in surprise, but your heart instantly started beating faster at him being so close to you. His grip was tight, as if he still couldn’t believe this was happening, it sent a wave of butterflies straight to your tummy. All of them flew directly to your core as Harry started moving his hips more with yours.

“Look so good on me like that, you do.” He whispered against your lips, his voice still having that morning rasp to it that sent a shiver up your spine.

You wrapped an arm around his neck, resting the other one on his shoulder as you continued to rock your hips against him. His eyes were hooded, but there was something in them that was so soft it took your breath away. When you know someone inside and out, you notice every single little change in their behaviour. This wasn’t tiny, though, because there was a type of vulnerability in Harry’s eyes that you hadn’t seen there before. He was laying himself completely bare, both physically and emotionally, wanting to connect and attach himself to you on every level a human possibly could.

Being this close, your movements got shorter and quicker. Bending his knees, Harry brought you flush to his torso, your hips and his moving rhythmically, hard against one another. Everything felt electric, everything felt hot. You wanted to melt into him and have you two sitting like this for eternity. Wanted to stare into his eyes, feel his warm breath on your skin, have his arm around your waist and the other hand on her cheek. Having him inside you like this, feeling him grip you hard, whimper against your lips, moan your name, you felt incredibly powerful and so, so good. There was something so magical about this moment, about you two joined like this. Something words lacked the ability to articulate and something your hearts didn’t quite understand yet but wanted to. He reached his hand down to your bum, squeezing you hard.

“Harry.” You moaned, feeling your hips and knees begin to ache from sitting like this. Not that you cared much, because the wild look in Harry’s eyes was enough of a reason for her to endure it a hundred times more.

“Yeah?” he mumbled against you. “You like that?”

Biting your lip, you glanced into his eyes, letting your look speak for itself. Harry moaned, letting his hand fall to the bed and the other to your thigh, pressing you harder around him. You were both close, clinging harder onto one another. The heat in the pit of your stomach grew bigger and bigger, threatening to burst with every grind, every moan, every touch. He thrusts harder into you, entranced as he watched you gasp and moan loudly.

“Fuck me.” You said, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck.

“As much as you want me to, baby.” He kissed your jawline, nails digging into your thigh. “I’ll make you feel so good.”

You gasped, feeling the heat get more intense. Harry felt your movements get more frantic and he moved his hips quicker, meeting yours and creating a friction so heavenly it caused you to lose all control.

“Don’t stop.” You gasped, looking into Harry’s eyes as everything started to blur.

“Fuck.” He hissed, feeling your legs start to shake around him. You came hard. Harry watching you intently, holding back his own release to watch every last second of yours; to make sure you were done before he allowed his own climax. You gasped for breath and moaned ad repeated Harry’s name over and over and over again until it felt like it was the only word you were able to pronounce.

Harry came right after her, a furrow appearing between his brows and lips parted. His hands tightened around her, holding onto her for dear life as he came in her. He stilled, neck vein showing, and he moaned and moaned and moaned. It was so hot, he sounded so sexy. You watched him till he came down, feeling his cum sliding down the inside of your thigh as he slipped out of you. You breathed together for a few moments before looking at one another, suddenly laughing a little at what you’d just done. He rested his forehead against your chest, feeling you breathe with him.

“That was a thing that just happened.” You said, making Harry laugh.

“That just happened.”

“We just did that.”

You both laughed, holding onto one another still, not willing to let go. For the time being, you two were the only thing that mattered, nothing outside your room existed. But then you laid your eyes on the clock by the nightstand and jumped off Harry. He watched you, wide eyed and confused.

“What?” he asked.

“I’m supposed to be at Alessandro’s hotel room in five minutes to go over yesterday, and some other stuff.” You said while you ran to the bathroom, needing to get washed up and dressed as quickly as possible.

Harry got out of bed, quickly putting his boxers and tee shirt on. “When’re you done?”

“Dunno.”

“Meet me for breakfast.” Harry said as you ran back out, new pair of knickers on and rummaging through your wardrobe. “I’ll text you the location.”

“Harry, I-“

“-Please.”

You looked over at him as you put your trousers on, smiling at his pleading words. “Text me.”

He smiled back before looking around the room. “Where are my trousers?”

“I’ll find them later, just piss off because I need to leave.” You ran towards the door with your laptop in hand and Harry – looking quite mortified – followed. He pulled his room key out as you were closing the door, about to run down the corridor for Alessandro’s room when you felt a hand around your wrist. Harry pulled you back toward him, pressing his lips against yours. You both smiled into the kiss, feeling absolutely elated and still not sure how to process what had just happened.

“Hurry.” Harry mumbled against your lips before kissing you again. “I’ll be waiting with that morning after pill.”

“Good.”

Harry smiled. “Now, be off.”

You giggled, giving him one last peck before running down towards Alessandro.

Everything that happened between you and Harry over the last 30 months had culminated to this point; you rushing out of the room after sharing an unexpected, intimate morning together. Looking back on it, you knew that each longing look you gave him had a hidden meaning behind it. You wanted this. Maybe not right away, but the more you got to know Harry, the more you wanted to be more than just his tailor. There had always been more between the two fo you, you just had not figured it out till now.

The way he watched you with admiration while you worked, gave you praises when you were feeling down - quite literally shouting them from the streets - and spoke to you in a way that had your mind in the clouds, it all slowly built over time.

It built until you couldn’t handle it any longer and needed to show Harry just how deeply you were falling for him.

Knocking on Alessandro’s door you quickly tired to fix your hair, aware that you looked like a right mess. Because of your morning antics and inability to keep track of time, you hadn’t given your appearance a single thought. Once Alessandro opened the door, his eyes widened as he saw you standing there panting and looking distressed, instant regret hit you for not at least brushing through your hair. Alessandro would know something had happened, having known you for so long, he’d see right through you.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes, of course.”

Alessandro smiled knowingly, nodding his head as he let you in. You just raised your eyebrows, but Alessandro didn’t make another comment. You’d told him enough.

“I stopped by Harry’s room last night, wanted to congratulate him on the show and how well he did, but he wasn’t in. Any idea where he was?”

“Nope. None. Maybe he was having a wee.”

Alessandro nodded again, walking over to sit down by the table in his suite along with his event manager, head stylist, and fabric coordinator. Tons of sketches of new outfits and plans for upcoming events laid out on the table, ready to be discussed. You sat down with them, ready to take notes. You had already been a little late, so you didn’t want to do anything else wrong today. Full on concentrating, you didn’t take your eyes off the laptop for almost 30 minutes, and when you did, it was to check your phone. You’d gotten two text messages, both from Harry.

Harry Don’t forget my yellow trousers. They’re my favourite pair. x

Harry Had an amazing time this morning, by the way. Can’t wait to see you later. x

You couldn’t help the smile that spread out over your face at the messages, and you didn’t realise just how wide your smile was till Alessandro cleared his throat beside you. You looked up, turning your phone around and looking right back at your laptop as if nothing had happened.

“What’s got you smiling?” Alessandro questioned, raising his eyebrows.

“Hmm? Nothing.” You answered, trying to refocus on the document before you.

Alessandro looked down at your phone, smiled, and went on with the meeting. There would be no hiding what happened between you and Harry. Somehow, someway, the man sitting before you would hear how his ‘two prodigies’ had finally gotten together, and when that day happened, you’d never hear the end of it. Hell, he constantly reminded you that without him, the two of you would have likely never met so it was his doing that you had a best friend in Harry.

So what was he to say when he found out you and Harry were now more than friends?

[jikooklesbian]

Hello! All of the GCFs are so beautiful. Do you have a particular favorite? What about it do like?

Expressions of sexual and gender identity emerge (or are constrained) differently depending on national, political, social, religious and/or historical context. Having said that, do you regard any of the GCFs as having intrinsically LGBTQ qualities?

Hope you have a lovely night! Borahae 💜

G.C.F in Tokyo is my personal favorite, for multiple reasons. It has a special place in my heart since it was the very first one, and the editing, song choice, setting, and general aesthetic are all so fascinating to me. But above all else, the message of G.C.F in Tokyo is my favorite. I will explain what I mean by that, but first, context is important.

In the "[FESTA 2017] BTS (방탄소년단) 꿀 FM 06.13 Happy BTS birthday!" broadcast, BTS talked a bit about giving birthday presents to one another. Apparently, gift-giving was not a regular thing they did for each other's birthdays, but several of the members were curious about why Jungkook chose to give a birthday present only to Jimin the prior year, in 2016. Supposedly, this was the first time he had given a birthday present to one of the members, and it was not done privately, but in front of some of the others. After Jimin's birthday in October 2016, Jin, Taehyung, Hobi, and Yoongi all had birthdays prior to the broadcast in June 2017, but they did not receive a birthday present from Jungkook. Jin said that he even requested something specifically but only got a "happy birthday" from Jungkook in 2016.

Now, they were all quick to reassure Jungkook that gifts aren't required or expected, gifts out of obligation are meaningless, and they only brought it up because they couldn't think of any other complaints. They went on to emphasize that Jungkook had become a very generous person as he had matured and didn't even press him to explain himself. In fact, there was no explanation given. They simply moved on. With this in mind, I also want to mention how Jimin had wanted to go on a trip with Jungkook since 2014, if not even earlier. He said so on the Idols' True Color Radio broadcast on June 14.

This brings us to the Tokyo trip itself. I do not know the exact dates, as it was a private trip, but it was sometime around Jimin's birthday, before G.C.F in Tokyo was posted on November 8. From what Jimin and Jungkook have shared in various interviews, fan meetings, and other anecdotes, what I understand is that Jungkook planned and paid for the majority of the trip, including his recording and editing equipment. This heavily implies that this trip was a gift for Jimin, in and of itself. And just by watching the video, it is clear that they had a great time traveling together, staying at the REMM Roppongi hotel, shopping, eating out, and going to Tokyo Disneyland.

Of course, they didn't just go on this trip and make good memories; it was also being recorded by Jungkook himself. So, what we see when we watch G.C.F in Tokyo is how Jungkook experienced this trip. More specifically, we see Jimin through Jungkook's point of view, with Tokyo as the setting. I am very curious about how Jungkook might have brought up wanting to record Jimin during their time there because it seems that Jimin was not fully aware that Jungkook would be editing and posting an official video, based on the tweet where he said he would have worn something nicer if he would have known.

At any rate, Jimin did not seem bothered by the camera's presence. He smiled and danced and made silly faces and turned around to check if he successfully made Jungkook laugh, all in a very natural way. In other words, the camera did not stop Jimin from enjoying the moment, like it might for some people, and this demonstrates a level of trust and comfortability between them.

As for the G.C.F in Tokyo video itself, I am not going to pretend that I'm a film critic. I cannot say much regarding the editing other than that I enjoyed the variety of transitions, the changes in speed, the coloring, and the timing with the music. However, there are some elements that I would like to discuss in more detail.

The song: "There For You." Jungkook is a big fan of Troye Sivan, who is an openly gay artist from Australia. Choosing a song by a gay artist, especially one that has explicit use of the word "boy" by a male singer, inherently gives G.C.F in Tokyo gay undertones, even if Jungkook did not mean to imply that he or Jimin is LGBT. (More crudely put, if you use a gay song, you have a gay video lol.) Also, Jungkook has said himself that he always checks the lyrics of the songs he covers or uses in his videos, so he knew the meaning of the lyrics when he edited the video.

And the lyrics are very telling.

So when your tears roll down your pillow like a river / I'll be there for you / I'll be there for you / When you're screaming, but they only hear you whisper / I'll be loud for you / But you gotta be there for me too

The chorus by itself is not necessarily referring to a romantic relationship but focuses more on the reciprocal nature of love and support in any close relationship, be it romantic, platonic, or familial. The chorus highlights both the strength needed to be someone's support and the vulnerability in asking someone to return the favor. Obviously, Jimin and Jungkook have been through a lot together as part of BTS, and all of the interpersonal relationships in BTS rely on that mutual respect and understanding. So, as the lyrics pertain to G.C.F in Tokyo specifically, Jungkook appears to be verbalizing his commitment to supporting Jimin in their shared dream of being part of BTS, while simultaneously asking to be supported by him, too.

I got you, I promise / But let me be honest / Love is a road that goes both ways

The same theme continues here, but what I find interesting at this point is what Jungkook showed during the part "love is a road that goes both ways." They are on the road, and there is a rainbow ferris wheel in the background. Hopefully, I don't need to explain why this raised a flag for me, a flag that looks a lot like this one: 🏳️‍🌈.

Boy, I'm holding on to something / Won't let go of you for nothing / I'm running, running just to keep my hands on you

This part is where the song takes a romantic turn, which I would say retroactively makes the entire song romantic in nature. From this point in the song on, we mostly see Jimin from behind, as if Jungkook is metaphorically running to keep his hands on Jimin. And in the brief scenes where Jimin is facing the camera after this point, it appears that he is turning around either to check Jungkook's reaction or to wait for him to catch up. I think the way Jungkook films Jimin from behind throughout the video shows his admiration and willingness to follow Jimin's lead.

Overall, I would call G.C.F in Tokyo a love letter, the message of which is: I'll be there for you, but you gotta be there for me too. How else can I interpret it? Jungkook, who was not in the habit of giving the other members birthday presents, knowing that Jimin has wanted to travel with him for years, planned and paid for an international trip for Jimin's birthday, documented their memories via film, spent painstaking amounts of time editing a video of their trip, included rainbow imagery, and chose a song by an openly gay artist that repeats over and over, "I'll be there for you, but you gotta be there for me too."

[beels-burger-babe]

Mammon and Winter's "Just Friends" Facts.

Submitted by @frankpanioncube

The relationship (as friends, rather than ‘Just Friends’) started basically because Winter actually caught him mid punishment, convinced Lucifer (It involved being really persistent and also mentioning that all the stories she’d heard of the greatest most beautiful former angel were ‘incredibly disappointing.’ which forked with his pride just enough) to let him go...and when she asked what happened to have incited the issue Mammon was actually pretty honest with her. He already was willing to be friendly with her for not assuming the worst about him immediately and she liked him for choosing to hang out with her after the fact as she was still kind of lost and a year behind Siemon and Luke and Mammon had experience showing around newbies.

  Beel is their most ardent supporter - Levi would say he ‘ships’ them. But he’s also the most calm about them as well - he doesn’t really get pushy in the way some of them do but he does ever so gently try to shove them in the right direction. (Sometimes that means LITERALLY. PHYSICALLY. That version is less gentle, but Winter can take it.)

  Belphie’s thoughts are comparatively negative. He thinks Winter would be a better match for Beel - and that would actually be at least objectively true - they have all sorts of things in common - sports, really weird tastes in food to name a few. But as Beel seems happy for them, he just allows it. It’s easier. 

  Levi has about twenty anime series he can name on sight with JUST THAT TROPE and hopes he can be the awesome friend who gets them together. Even though he’s usually yelling at Mammon and his contact with Winter is minimal at best if not completely negligible. And some anger because all the ship names are terrible. MamWin? Mamter?

  Asmo’s thoughts gravitate somewhere between thinking up cute date ideas and also wondering when he can FINALLY ask his brother if Winter is a good kisser, because ooh, an ANGEL that’s new and exciting and honestly it’ll be another few millennia or so until Siemon and Lucifer make up enough to do something about all that sexual tension.

  Lucifer’s thoughts on the matter are about as expected. He and Winter don’t PARTICULARLY get along - or at least in a way that’s not both of them being very falsely polite to one another because neither wants to appear uncouth. Nonetheless, if they both have grudging thoughts against each other at the very least he appreciates that Mammon’s more negative exploits have been on a downward tick. 

  Satan likes Winter well enough. She’s actually a good student but not good enough to challenge his standings, but is a hard enough worker that he could find himself paired with her on a project and knows she would do her fair share of the workload competently. He is definitely appreciative of Winter’s dislike of Lucifer and, hey if it makes Mammon happy and more importantly less prone to his more rage-inducing habits, so much the better. 

  Diavolo is delighted - it wasn’t what he was CONSIDERING when he thought ‘Unity between the three realms” But this is an unexpected surprise - if ONLY they would figure it out! Probably has a few tricks up his sleeve if has not outright brought it up. Yes, BOTH are still oblivious despite having the Demon Prince basically screaming it in their ears.

  Luke also shares Belphie’s thoughts on ‘Well if she HAD to pick a demon, Beel would be a better choice.’ Siemon - for all his ability to write does NOT see the irony in his relationship with Lucifer. And somehow can see that his housemate and fellow angel should just kiss already.

  Mammon’s favourite sleeping position is between Winter’s wings. It looks ridiculous because of the height difference, but he doesn’t question it in quite the same way as he stutters around MC because dude - those wings are comfy and HE has the best spot to nap in, take that Belphie. After all, having the best of anything is catnip for Mammon. 

  That Mammon indeed ALLOWS himself to be snuggled at random by Winter should be fairly indicative of how OBLIVIOUS they are. Sorry Levi but ‘There was only one bed’ won’t be enough to beat them over the head with the clue bat.

  They never should be allowed to be the drivers of  a car together. It is truly terrifying and both their brain cells go out the window - possibly because of the speed of the car and the blasting of music. They also seem to forget both of them can fly. Established that together they start sharing a braincell occasionally. May be a reason for why they can’t figure out their actual relationship to one another. 

  Mammon freaked out the first time he saw Winter’s room - she is still an angel and thus is not attached to material goods. Has started bringing trinkets and things. Because THAT’s not something that he would do for anyone. He would DEFINITELY have to like someone to give THEM gifts.

  Winter watches out for him at Casinos. Has carried him out twice, Kicked a demon in the face (and apologized for it after) once. The event became an actual thing on Deviltube.

  Winter is consistently cold - apparently the ‘flaming’ part of ‘flaming wheels with eyes’ didn’t make it to Diavolo’s glamour so that became the ‘cuddles’ excuse. “My ‘just-a-friend’ is cold. I’m helping her.” 

  They do not ‘CUDDLE’ They ‘HUG’ (because that is more manly apparently). Everyone knows what it is though.

  Mammon shows up for all her Fangol games, argues it’s only to support Beel like a good big brother if called on it (not entirely a lie), definitely doesn't take good care of Winter and gets all concerned about how much more she gets knocked around (some demons aren't TERRIBLY excited that RAD has an angel exchange student as a first stringer representing their Fangol team) and definitely was the mastermind behind “acrylic paint is an appropriate substitute for hair dye.”

(I am enjoying this. I'll have to start writing more silly stuff)  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Awwwwwwwwww those are really sweet