#so im on the naked city case

[earwig5]

stefan bekowsky and cole phelps VS roy earle and rusty galloway full out brawl in the lapd evidence storage room whos winning

[nevernonline]

✧.* must love dogs; csc one shot.

✧.* synopsis: after a breakup (three years ago) your friend finally attempts to get you back on the saddle by creating you a dating profile despite your protesting, hooking you up on dates with some of the eligible bachelors of their choice, none of which impressed you. until one day you met the boy with the dog.

part of my seventeen movie series.

paring: seungcheol x reader (y/n uses she/her pronouns.)

genre/s: fluff, strangers2lovers

warning/s: alcohol mentions, swearing, cigarette mentions, swearing, some pg-13 jokes.

word count: 3.7k

note: im notorious atp for not editing, pls. I hope you enjoy my lil must love dogs inspired fic, its one of my fav movies!! xo.

“So how was bachelor number five?” 

With a roll of your eyes, you gazed at your friend Seungkwan resting his feet on top of your shared glass coffee table, ticking the tip of the city guide book and magazines rested on top. 

“Boring. He was nice or whatever, good looking, but he wouldn’t shut up about league of legends and his job. Other than that he asked me no questions about myself or what I do. A failure as most would call it.” 

“So I take it you wouldn’t want to go out with him again?” 

“God, whatever gave you that impression? I thought you could tell we were headed for marriage?” 

“Hey. I’m doing you a very nice thing, you don’t have to be so sarcastic about it.” 

“Look, I know. But just because Jun is getting married and I still haven’t moved on doesn’t mean I need to be dating all of the sudden.” 

The boy patted the seat next to him. Scooching over from his spot, making room for you on the couch. 

“ It’s been nearly three years since you ended it with him. At least fuck someone before you dry up.” 

“That’s fucking gross and what vibrators are for.” 

A small scream left your friend's mouth as he covered his ears trying to remove what he had just heard coming out of your mouth. 

“Y/n his wedding is in two months, we need to find someone to bring that’s not me. You don’t want to feel the embarrassment of his pity party and everyone feeling sorry for you.” 

“Why can’t you just be my date?” 

“Too obvious. Plus your whole family will be there, just do it or you know your parents will be in your case again. This ‘ secret man’ you’ve been seeing doesn’t exist and I think your Mom is starting to catch on.” 

He was right. Your parents come from a high status, as do your ex boyfriends, they were the reason you both had met and became friends in the first place. But, when your relationship ended you lied to them, it was working well until you got a call from your very upset mother telling you Jun showed up to your house with his family and a girl on his arm that wasn’t you. 

“Okay, then why can’t I choose my own date?” 

“The men you chose to quote on quote date are literally disturbing, I’m sorry but it’s the truth. Like that one dude you brought here last time? Whatever the fuck his name was literally was wearing a necklace vial of his own blood and claimed drinking your own urine and reusing water is the only way we can save the planet.” 

“Okay, but he was nice.” 

“He literally didn’t flush the toilet because he only went number one. That’s fucked, no.” 

“Can I at least, like at the very least have some approval over the men you match me with then?” 

“Maybe.” 

“ Kwanie, please. Come on, don’t make me use the what goes around card, it’s my turn” 

“No, it's absolutely my turn.” 

“Not true, you wasted it two months ago when I had to bail you out of that strange house party orgy thing by saying your dog died and coming in crying to a bunch of naked strangers. You owe me.” 

“Valid.” 

“How did you not realize what that party was anyway?” 

“This is not currently about my life failures, but yours my beautiful friend.” 

Laughing at Seungkwan's major mishap, you forgot to greet your dog, Lucky. She was waiting and crying at your feet, finally waking up from her sweet slumber to greet you. 

“Hello my baby, do we have to go outside?” 

“She went for a walk this afternoon, but after her dinner she crashed so she probably wants a walk. I can go if you want to change or shower.” 

“No it’s alright, I can take her, you're already in your pj’s and after my date I need a distress, want anything from the mart?” 

“Ice cream?” 

With a small nod you jumped up, taking the small curly creature in your arms and grabbing her harness before heading back outside into the warm spring air. 

Ten minutes into your evening stroll, you decided to sit on the green wooden bench overlooking the water, the same bench your grandmother always spoke about when you asked her the same story about how she and your grandfather got engaged. The gold plaque with their names rubbing off sitting behind your back. 

Suddenly you heard a man yelling from behind you, running through the green grass lit up with fluorescent lights. 

“Hey, Kkuma, no come back.” 

A small white dog came up behind Lucky sniffing her and starting to play, you noticed her cute hairclip and ran your hands through her fur. 

“God, I’m sorry. She normally doesn’t run off like that.” 

“It’s okay my dog lov-“ 

As you turned around to look into the round eyes of the owner, you were stunned with how beautiful he was. 

His dark hair pushed under a cap, a white t-shirt too big for his frame sitting beautifully in his toned shoulders, and his red sweatpants matching his shoes. 

The unfamiliar man was bending down now petting your precious pet and his own at the same time talking to them in sweet baby voices. 

“This is Kkuma by the way, and you are?” 

“Y/N” 

“Hi y/n, you’re so cute, you and kkuma can be best friends if your mom lets you.”

You let out a roaring laugh realizing he thought you had introduced your pet and not yourself.

“Oh sorry, did I say something wrong?”

“No, no. It’s just I’m y/n this is Lucky sorry my fault.” 

“Oh god, cool. Sorry Lucky, I’m Seungcheol. You can call me Cheol and this is Kkuma.” 

“Nice to meet you Cheol and Kkuma.” 

“You too. Look I know I just met you and all, but I’m new to the area. I was wondering if you’d want to get coffee and let the girls hangout sometime?” 

“Oh. Yeah, of course. Let me give you my number.” 

Seungcheol handed you his cell phone with a new contact page pulled up giving you full reign to type your name and number into his list. 

Handing the device back to him your fingers touched, creating an electric shock, to not like you to believe in signs, but for some reason it felt like the universe trying to tell you something. 

“Thank you, I’ve actually got to get going, but if you're free tomorrow would you want to grab coffee and hangout at the dog park?” 

“Yeah, totally. Just text me a time, we can just meet here. What kind of coffee do you drink? There’s a good spot by my apartment. I can just pick it up for us.” 

“Wow, that’s so nice of you. Just a black americano is cool or a cold brew whichever.”

“No fun I see.”

“How would you know that? Just because I don’t like sugary drinks doesn’t mean I can’t have fun.” 

“I don’t know, we will see.” 

“We will. I’ll catch you tomorrow girls.” 

“Nice to meet you.” 

“You too!” 

Seungcheol left the same way he came running through the grass with Kkuma on his heels, following him all the way back to their home. 

Strolling back down the pathway back to your apartment, you could help but feel butterflies in your stomach, you knew nothing about the man you just met other than his name and his cute dog, but there was a lot of unknown. 

Smiling like a Cheshire Cat, you unlocked the front door and watched Lucky sprint back into Seungkwan lounging on the couch, eating for the ice cream you had forgotten. 

“Where’s the snacks? Also why are you smiling like an idiot you’re freaking me out.” 

“We met a guy with his dog, a very cute guy might I add, who actually asked for my number and wants to get coffee tomorrow.” 

“ What the fuck, it’s late tell me he doesn’t live in the park?” 

“No he said he just moved to the area, he was clearly not a park dweller he had keys, and smelt amazing actually.”

“Smelling strangers? A new low even for you”

“Oh my god, fuck off.” 

Seungkwan pulled his phone out and opened various social media apps preparing himself for best friend stalking duties. 

“What’s his name?”

“Seungcheol, not sure about his last name, but he goes by Cheol and his dog was Kkuma.” 

“Great.. okay, found him I assume?”

“What the fuck, how? Let me see.”

“Eager aren’t we?”

“Fuck off?” 

Grabbing Seungkwan's phone from his grip, you scroll quickly through the new faces' social media.

“Yeah, it’s him.” 

“Okay, let me see. Wait, he's actually hot AND seems to have his own business?” 

“Oh my god.”

“Here, look” 

After the next few hours, you and your friend stumble on into your separate rooms preparing yourself for slumber, which never seems to reach you and before you know it dawn is creeping its way through your curtains, and your backup preparing yourself for a day with you and Lucky's new friends. 

Something about your energy was excitable and nearing frantic, you could wait to step outside into the fresh air with your pocket sized princess at your side, but it was still early. 

You had decided on pampering yourself for this morning, finding the need to make yourself up, you spread on your skin care with glee, drew perfect lines of eyeliner and strained your hair, pulling it up into a nice tight ponytail the hair tie matching the taupe tone of your sweat suit perfectly.  Before you knew it it was 9:45 a perfect time for you and Lucky to step outside the door. 

Placing her in her tote bag, you stepped inside of your favorite coffee shop, the light pink walls covered in photos and paintings, the smell of the espresso seemed sweeter. 

“Morning, y/n you look beautiful today. Would you like the usual?”

“Thank you, for me, yes. But can I also get a large americano, just black and he didn’t tell me iced or hot, so iced is good I think? Or maybe hot with a cup of ice on the side? If that’s okay?” 

“He? Did you finally start dating someone?” 

“Oh no, just a friend of mine. Seungkwan told you shit about me didn’t he?” 

“Yes. Sorry.”  

“No worries, can I actually get two of the plain croissants and two of the flower dog cookies too?” 

“No problem, it’ll be right out.” 

“Thank you.” 

Taking a seat next to the pick up counter you scrolled through the instagram of the boy you’re meant to be meeting, telling yourself it’s just to remember his face, but really it was to get a peek into what else he’s into or if he was single. 

“Y/N” 

“Oh shit, sorry. Thank you guys, see you tomorrow.” 

Picking up the paper coffee carrier and pastry bag, you waved goodbye to the baristas and briskly walked back to the bench you were at yesterday, your bench, spotting the back of Seungcheol’s head watching the water with his dog. 

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” 

“Oh, no problem. I just got here.” 

Placing your items down on the bench, you freed her bag and greeted Kkuma alongside her before taking your seat. 

“Here’s your coffee, I wasn’t sure if you wanted hot or iced so I got you a cup of ice too just in case, a croissant, and a little treat for your girl too.” 

“Wow thank you so much, hot is fine actually. How are you?” 

“Good, nervous. I mean it’s not every day you meet a stranger for coffee.” 

Seungcheol laughed, tipping his head back slightly before taking a bite of his pastry. 

“Sorry. I know it’s weird, you just seemed like someone I wanted to get to know, and Kkuma liked you so I figured you’re good people.” 

“Well, thank you. You too. Lucky generally does not like men other than my friend Seungkwan, my dad, and my ex-boyfriend so consider yourself special.”

“I do.”

“So what brought you to this neighborhood? Work, a relationship?”

“No relationship, but actually my business partner is from here. We decided to open our warehouse and stuff here because it’s much better than doing it in the city. We have a spirit company and we’re planning on opening a brewery and bar, so that’s why I’ve been working late nights. I guess it served me well, I made a friend on my first day.”

“You’ve only been here for a full day? What the hell? You already know the best spot in town. What kind of stuff do you guys make?”

“Beer and soju mainly, we’ve been working on it for five years now and are finally at a spot to open up and start selling it to people, which is cool. But what about you? What do you do?” 

“I’m a medical student actually, my parents are both doctors, I used to really want to be one too, but I don’t know, I don’t really have the same passion for it as I used to.”

“Well what would you do if you had the choice?”

“I always wanted to design stuff for dogs, start a rescue, anything like that. I got so happy seeing Kkuma as an accessory girl.”

“Yeah, she’s very stylish. I think you should go for it, you know? Why waste time becoming something for someone else and risk being unhappy just for their sake?”

“Honestly I wouldn’t even know how to start a business on my own, let alone tell my parents.”

“Hey, I didn’t either and look where it’s gotten me.”

You turned back to the water, staring into the calm blue waters, trying not to go into your own head. 

“You’re oddly inspiring, I’ll give you that much.”

“Thank you, y/n. You’re oddly sassy, I’ll give you that.”

“Shut up, I’m not.”

“You already tried to clock me by saying I’m no fun because I drink black coffee and you said oddly inspiring like a back handed compliment. You definitely are, but I like it. 

“Good.”

You had continued your twice weekly hangouts with Kkuma and her dad for two weeks now, getting excited whenever the days roll around to see the two of them again, but you haven’t hung out once without them around, which made you wonder if your friendship or crush rather on this boy was only due to your dogs being friends themselves. 

Seungkwan tried setting you up on more and more dates with more and more duds, he was starting to lose hope himself, knowing that the one person he could set you up with was Seungcheol but he didn’t want to overstep. 

Strolling home from another failed connection, you decide to stop and have a beer before going home to give the dirty details to Seungkwan about who you had just met. 

Pulling open the tab of one of your drinks from your six pack, you took a deep breath and sat down, feeling your eyes welling up with tears. 

Another can opened as you went to take the first sip. A hand comes on your shoulders, whispering a boo in your ears. 

“What the fuck!” 

Jumping up from your seat the hand on your shoulder belonged to Seungcheol, the look in his eyes went from happy to concerned as he saw the small streaks of tears on your cheeks, you top now dribbled with spots of beer. 

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Want a beer?”

“Sure, thanks. I’m sorry I scared you, I thought you heard me behind you.”

“It’s alright, I was in my own world anyway. You look nice, where are you headed?”

“Soft opening for my bar actually, I texted you, but I figured you didn’t respond because you were busy.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I would’ve loved to come. I was a bit preoccupied on an awful fucking date.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse.”

“Well the good news is you technically didn’t miss it, it doesn’t start for another twenty minutes and you’re dressed very nice. It worked out. 

“Fuck I wish I paid more attention, I could’ve got you some flowers or something.”

“Next time. Will your roommate be alright taking care of Lucky?”

“Yeah of course, he knew I would be out tonight. I’ll text him just to be sure.”

“Cheers to hanging out without our kids?”

“Definitely.”

With that suddenly your awful night and doubts about your relationship with the raven haired boy went out the window. 

“Shall we?”

“We shall.” 

Seungcheol lent his arm out for you to wrap your own around, and you both stayed out that way for a few moments, before discarding your cans and walking the way to his new venture. 

“Here it is, you ready?”

“When you told me you were opening this up I thought you hadn’t even started? But it looks like it’s fully ready.” 

“Ah, well we had planned to wait a bit, but we’re getting too antsy, so here we are.”

“It’s beautiful, holy shit.” 

“Thanks, sit here, I’ll be right back.”

You took a seat on the green leather booth, looking around and taking in the ambiance of the custom lighting and ribbon like wallpaper, when a blonde gentleman walked over sitting down across from you. 

“Y/n? Right?”

“Yeah, nice to meet you…”

“Jeonghan, I’m Cheol’s business partner.”

“Jeonghan, right. Nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot.”

“Likewise, you’re so much prettier than Cheol let on actually.”

“Oh?”

Without a chance to interrogate the new face further Seungcheol walked back over to your table, setting down a few bottles of various spirits for you to try, including a couple of cocktails. 

“He didn’t scare you too much did he?”

“Not at all, he was just telling me actually how much prettier I am than you alluded to.”

“Jeonghan, don’t do that to her, come on. You know very well I told you she was pretty, I even showed you her instagram, you agreed.”

“I know, I just wanted to make you tell her yourself and my job is done, see you around y/n.”

“Nice to meet you.”

As Jeonghan left the table you felt your cheeks growing with heat, unsure if it was the alcohol or the fact that Seungcheols friend made him confess he thought you were good looking. 

“Sorry about him, he’s a menace.”

“No need to be sorry, I have my own menace at home and I don’t mean my dog.”

Seungcheol laughed, pouring you a shot of his very own soju to taste, filling with anticipation hoping you enjoy the drink he’s serving you, looking for your approval became a big part of his mind lately. 

Lifting your glass up to his and clinking them together, the liquor poured down the back of your throat filling your mouth with sweetness and warmth. 

“Holy shit.”

“Good holy shit or bad holy shit?”

“No, very good. That’s actually delicious. It’s so clean and fresh.”

“That makes me so happy to hear.”

“I’m happy you’re happy.”

“Okay, beer next. This is just a standard sour, some lime and sea salt, sort of beach vibes.” 

“Sounds amazing, okay.”

Tipping your head back you sipped at the foamy top of the glass, savoring the flavors in your mouth. 

“I hate you so much.”

“What? Why?”

“Seungcheol, you're way too humble when you talk about your business, this shit is amazing. I said I hate you because I’m going to crave this shit and I’ll have to see you all the time.” 

“I thought you liked seeing me all the time?”

“You’re okay.”

“I have to say it’s cool to be here with you without the dogs, not that they distract too much, but they definitely take away giving you my full attention.”

“I mean how could they not, they’re cute as fuck,”

“So are you.”

“Wow, two drinks in Cheol and you’re already calling me cute? I wonder what else you’ll say the more you drink?"

“Technically we’re four drinks in, but I guess I remember the time I spent with you more than you do. Did those drinks on the bench mean nothing to you?”

“Oh fuck, I did forget. I guess technically I’m five drinks in then, catch up, bitch.”

You and Seungcheol spent the rest of the night being greeted by his friends, most of them already assuming who you were, letting you know that Seungcheol talks about you more than you realized. 

Feeling your blood alcohol content rising, you decided to take a step outside and refresh. 

The bell of the door opened up behind you, putting you face to face with his cherry lips once again, watching them light up a hand rolled cigarette to his lips. 

“Doing okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to step out for a second. Are you good?”

“Very. Want a cig?”

“No, I’m good for now. Ask me again later.” 

“So will there be a later? You’re not ditching me now?”

“I’d never do that.”

“So, y/n does this maybe get me a chance to take you on a date? I’m kind of drunk so I’m feeling oddly bold.” 

“Is this not sort of a date?”

“I was hoping you thought so. Is that a yes?”

“Absolutely. I thought you’d never ask.”

“Before we go on our date though, y/n. I have one final question?” 

“Yes?” 

“Do you still think I’m boring?” 

“A little.” 

Seungcheol grabbed your waist and spun you around, causing his perfectly rolled tobacco to fall on the sidewalk. 

Blissfully you were giggling and laughing under the red led lights of his bar. 

“Take it back.” 

“Nope.” 

“Please.” 

You looked into his puppy dog eyes and did something out of your comfort zone. Wrapped your hands loosely around his neck, placing a deepened kiss onto his lips. 

His mouth tasted of cigarettes and salt with a hint of vanilla from the lip balm he always had on him. 

“Is that a good ‘sorry I called you boring’ kiss?” 

“It’ll do for now.” 

“Good. They’ll be more where that came from.” 

“Promise?” 

“Pinky promise.” 

You and Seungcheol unwrap from each other, finding Jeonghan standing and  cheering in the window watching the two of you. 

“Can’t believe I got a hot date and a sister for Kkuma all in one.” 

“You lucky dog.” 

[autumns-apple]

Linger | Young Cillian Murphy X GN! Reader

(Linger - The cranberries)

Summary: Ever since you met cillian you always new you could get away with one another “play the game of love” but who knew it would cut you so much when he was beyond sweet

Warning: angst, unrequited love, fluff?, suggestive connotations

(This is one of the very first “big” stories I’ve ever tried to write on here my apologies if it’s bad, please let me know if so I’m trying! Thank you!)

Angel eyes

Crystal blue, blue so clear you could swim in them

“It’s me tearing me apart Is ruining everything I swore, I swore I would be true and honey, so did you So why are you holding her hand?”

Those same eyes you always knew you could get lost in. The same ones he’d look at you with when he’d hold you late at night, after your almost nightly sessions. Wrapped around in satin sheets, naked under those dim lights that filled him room. Breathing in his heavenly scent. Only was it behind closed doors when cillian would get soft with you, touch and caress you, that loving and gentle expression he’d always give you when he’d kiss you goodbye.

“Is that the way we stand? We’re you lying all this time? Was it just a game to you”

The same expression he’s giving her. You swore you’d let him go this time, let him walk away this time, no questions asked “I can’t stay” he stated. You told yourself his words didn’t hurt, they never did you said. If that was the case then why was it killing you when you saw him touching her. Brushing her hair away from her face, going in for a kiss , hold her hand. You didn’t mean to follow him out it was a “simple mistake” you said. When your legs carried you trailing behind him on his way to a date like his pet, the one thing you hated being. It was no more then 9:00pm early enough to still be in his sheets the one place you longed to be at this very moment. Not the dimly lit restaurant you found yourself standing in watching him enjoy himself. Longing for you to be sat opposite him. Cillian always held you so tight yet tenderly, you always secretly knew it meant nothing just something friends-with-Benefits did. That’s what the rules were from day one. At least that’s what he told you.

“But Im in so deep you know, I’m such a fool for you, you got me wrapped around your finger”

Since the very first day you met cillian it was love at first sight . The year was 2001 you remember it clear as day, you worked at a small bookstore just outside of the big bustling city. The weather turning brisk trees varying in shades of orange, yellow, and red. His clear blue eyes, warm, fluffy brown hair, pink plump lips , large hands. The same hands that left marks on your hips after every session. You’d never forget the look on his face when he walked in and first saw you, you could’ve sworn it was love. for you, it was no doubt that what you felt for him was more then love. The magnitude of his being pulling you in, no matter how far you went from him. Cillian always pulled you back. It all started with a “Hello” as it always seemed to go with his type, followed by a simple ‘dinner’ back at his place . Who could’ve ever predicted the mess you’d become, coming back the next day for more of him.

“Do you have to let it linger?, do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?”

Like clockwork you always showed up at his doorstep. Promising to yourself it would never happen again, that you’d just go away and never see his face again. The very same face you swore that you ‘hated’. It never helped when he’d open the door with that tender smile that always made you weak at the knees. Or when he held your hand as he guided you into his apartment, sitting you on the couch for a quick ‘chat’, nudging his face into your neck as you spoke about your day hoping he’d at least bother to care about what you had to say as much as you cared what he had to say. It always ended the same way in his bed wrapped in his sheets cuddled up with him. Long before he’d kick you out leaving you to walk in shame just like yesterday and the day before that..…..

“Oh, I thought the world of you I thought nothing could go wrong but I was wrong, I was wrong if you, if you could get by trying not to lie things wouldn’t be so confused and I wouldn’t feel so used but you always really knew I just want to be with you”

Looking back on that day when you first met cillian you’d always wished it would’ve turned out differently , You’d always wish he was sweeter then what he let on to be, maybe from the beginning he always saw you as an easy target. Someone he’d always know he could call if he ever needed some easy and fast enjoyment, it was no secret despite how much you tried to shove your feelings for him down you ended up falling for him. you wish you could say it, confess to him in hopes he’d reciprocate instead of lying to you pulling on your rope always bringing you closer to him. You’d never wish to leave his grip even if he knew you loved him he’d always hold you painfully close enough to always let his fingers Linger…

(Hello reader thank you for taking the time to read it all through! Im trying and hope you enjoy this story! It’s late and I know my writing to be better but if you have any suggestions or want to read more please let me know!)

[fenclip]

misc sagau snips

a little bit more light-hearted (sort of) than the crown of insight au - which im honestly having more fun doing world-building than actually writing it loooool

since they're only snips, they're pretty short and have plenty of little notes added to them in case i ever consider expanding them :p

+++ Zhongli - Crown of Insight

"Triple Crown Xiao!! Let's fucking gooo!!!"

Zhongli watched impassively as their beloved Goddess coaxed Xiao into performing a variety of acrobatic tricks for her to enjoy. Jumping, running around in circles, and using Xiao's Anemo power to dash around in a flurry of Anemo particles. All of which were but a few of the many ways their Goddess expressed her happiness to the world. 

And "triple crowning" the Last Yaksha was apparently one such cause for celebration. Especially when what she had so boldly declared after Xiao had first experienced her grace over his body. It was apparent that the path to bestowing the "Triple Crown" onto one of her most favoured vessels was one of severe hardship. 

ZL feels a little jealous over the Goddess’s attention on Xiao and hopes to one day be bestowed with a Crown of Insight as well 

Knows that he is one of her favoured ones and is silently proud of it

+++ Thoma

"Ooh, this would be such a good date spot!" 

From the brief glances of his current surroundings that his Goddess would allow him as she excitedly swivelled his body around, Thoma could agree. He could bring a basket with all of her favourite foods packed (or at least, what he surmised from the amount of Sweet Madames she regularly stocked up on).

Then after taking her on a stroll around Inazuma City and showing her the sights, Thoma would bring her to this very spot for a picnic. 

+++ Diluc 

“You goddamn bastard, why won’t you spook me?!” 

As he watched the Goddess’s current vessel run through his vineyards catching crystalflies, Diluc wondered what it would be like to be carried by the hands of their world’s Goddess. Of the many who called Mondstadt home, he was one of the few that were rarely bestowed the honour of becoming the Goddess’s vessel. 

+++ Itto

“Wait, Xiao’s banner is coming soon?! Guess I can’t spend much on this banner then. Oh man! C1 Xiao, here I come!”

Kuki Shinobu could only sigh as the illustrious leader of the Arataki Gang spent another day sulking in his room. Not even the promises of getting some Onikabuto or a round of Genius TCG could rouse him out of his depressive state. 

To twist the knife even deeper into the Boss’s gut, the Goddess had only sent her prayers into his special “banner” long enough to bestow her blessings upon the Canine General instead. 

+++ Heizou

“Sheesh, you may hit hard like a truck but damn if your CRIT rate wasn’t just straight-up trash… Ahh, I hate artifact farming…”

The first time his Anemo-powered punch had dealt a solid hit onto the naked crystal heart of Liyue’s “Geo Cube”, the Goddess had immediately brought him to face all sorts of other opponents. It was only after the second time that he had apparently “critted” on a mitachurl that his Goddess began to ladle praises after praises of his martial prowess. 

+++ Zhongli (& Childe)

Post-Isekai: The Goddess goes on a date with Zhongli, touring Liyue in person. 

“Tartaglia.” 

The intense prickling feeling of someone watching me lessened as I continued to stare after the pompous NPC that dared to interrupt my special outing with Zhongli. 

“Take care of that person for me, will you?” 

After waiting a few minutes for the brief spike of bloodlust that followed my request to subside, I sighed. The Eleventh Fatui Harbinger… and apparently one of my most devoted followers. Perhaps a little too devoted to my wellbeing. I didn’t need foreknowledge from playing the game to know how dangerous Tartaglia really was. 

For a moment, I wondered how long until the wild dog would finally gain reason to chew through his spindly rope leash and turn against me? If not for my weakling self as I was, then perhaps how fake my affections were for him? As it stood, the relationship we had as master and servant was toxic as all hell. 

Sure, I fantasised plenty of being the princess that knights would wholly pledge their devotions to. And I received such notions in spades in the form of my followers as the apparent Creator of this World. But to persist in keeping them up for however long I would stay in Teyvat? No matter what they tell me, I will hold no hopes on that. 

[belit0]

Killer - TobiIzu (part 2)

Okay, so a comment from EyesofNeptune8004 on my ao3 collection made me re-read chapter 28, and I decided it was way too good as to finish it there.

My past self, the one who created this shi, was rly rly gone when she did it, so im not sure about having the yandere-psyco-crazy touch anymore, but i wanted to try cause this one is truly interesting.

ao3 collection - chap 28

Madara knocks on the door of Izuna's apartment for the tenth time, standing in the complex's corridor and carrying a bag of groceries in his hand. He brings with him a little bit of everything, food, cleaning products, bathroom essentials. He has seen his little brother a couple of times since he was found in that cheap motel, and is worried about the state of mind he might be in.

The scene was heartbreakingly clear, and he blames himself for not paying attention. Izuna has been in the field for a while, working in the trenches and with hard cases, but throwing him in headfirst to deal with the worst serial killer they'd had in years wasn't the wisest thing to do on his part.

He thought he was ready to take on a case as important as that one, and had no hope of getting any breakthroughs on it. The only thing police knew about the murderer was his name, and only because he allowed them to find it out, serving it to them on a silver platter.

Tobirama had appeared overnight and did not take long to make them understand he would keep on acting until they found him, but the crime scenes he left behind him were so clean, immaculate, no evidence could be extracted beyond what could be seen with the naked eye.

Victims of any age, children and adults, men and women, all marked by 3 red cuts on the face, and a note on the chest with a word written on it, "Tobirama". They suspected it might not even be his real name, having searched the database a million times without coming up with a match. Or maybe the man was so meticulous to the point of having wiped himself off the face of the earth, eliminating his persona to operate at ease.

The officers nicknamed him "the white demon," based on the few testimonies they had collected of his multiple acts, all reporting a white-haired man near the scene prior to the attack.

Whatever they were dealing with, Madara had no hope of solving it soon or even finding anything to help them move forward. Bodies continued to turn up everywhere in the city, and police hope was dwindling.

His younger brother had been complaining to him for months because Madara only assigned him simple situations, small kidnappings way too easy to solve, overly obvious murders, stupid robberies, so he thought giving Izuna an unsolvable case would be just what he needed.

He wanted a challenge? He would give him a challenge.

Madara saw far too many cases less serious than this one being shelved for lack of evidence and figured he'd assign it to him just to make his brother feel important.

Big mistake.

He knocks on the apartment door again, and raises his voice to break through the piece of wood separating them "Izuna... I don't want to have to use the key, please." Sure, his brother left him a copy when he moved out of the house, an emergency key in case he lost his, but Madara tries to assess the situation differently.

If the younger Uchiha manages to get out of bed and open the door for him, not everything is lost. He has visited him since that night, but he can never get this one to get up.

"I'm coming in..." he whispers more to himself than anything else, taking the key out of his pocket and opening the door. All the windows are closed, curtains covering the glass, and it looks like there hasn't been sunlight in the place for weeks.

Several empty food containers are visible from the entrance, scattered all over the floor and reaching into the room. Izuna is probably still in bed, not having gotten up except to go to the bathroom or eat.

Madara makes his way through all the trash surrounding the floor, kicking things to get to the kitchen in order to leave the groceries he bought for his brother in the fridge. When he opens it, puffing in distress, he is greeted by a terrible stench, something probably rotten that has been there for a good few days.

There are tears in his eyes, and he doesn't know if it's because of the strong smell or because of the image that rotten meat brings to his mind. Izuna told him, a few days before everything happened, he would prepare a special dinner for him as a celebration for having solved one of the most controversial cases of recent times, that of the red-eyed assassin. Madara, in charge of the investigation department of the police, had been working with all his concentration on catching the ruffian who was terrorizing the local park, and perhaps that was what made him stop paying attention to what his younger brother was doing with the white demon's case.

He didn't even know about the special clue Izuna received.

He holds his nose and tries to close the refrigerator tightly, the door jamming with the trash on the floor and unable to close all the way. He ends up slamming the appliance, venting the anger he feels about the whole situation and wipes his wet eyes with the back of his hand.

This is his fault. He could have prevented it if he hadn't underestimated the situation, if he had paid attention to his brother's wanderings.

It's his job, to coordinate all the detectives in the department and make sure they do a good job, but he lost sight of the one he most cared about, and threw him into the lion's den without knowing it.

The white demon had broken his modus operandi with Izuna, tracked and investigated him, marked him, and took him where he wanted and how he wanted. He had complete control of the situation from start to finish, and made the Uchiha act as he wanted, handling him like a puppet. He guided him to a secluded place, using clever words and manipulating him not to alert anyone.

Lacking experience, Izuna fell for his scheme. He’s lucky to be alive.

Why is he alive?

He had been found passed out in a motel room, his pants off and his shirt unbuttoned, his face red and wet from what appeared to be tears. The position in which his body was discovered denoted sexual abuse at first glance, with marks all over his rear area and even some blood between his legs.

The policemen who first arrived at the scene did not dare to go in until Madara was there, and it was he who came face to face with the image, covering the exposed body of his younger brother with his jacket, and carrying him in his arms to his own car.

The examination at the hospital was the most difficult part, and the younger Uchiha had to be sedated so as not to attack the nurses trying to conduct the abuse assessment. Izuna was unconscious for the next 24 hours, resting at Madara's house, but upon regaining awareness, he demanded to return home.

The way he cried to go back to his apartment, the violence with which he insisted his older brother listen, the urgency with which he communicated his need to get there, was unnatural. He would not allow anyone to touch him, nor would he allow them to take his cell phone to investigate possible breaches in the system, ways in which the killer could have gotten to him. Madara didn't have the heart to contradict him, feeling too guilty to deny him anything, letting him keep the phone and going home.

From then on, Izuna refused to leave his apartment, taking refuge within the four walls of his house and seeking comfort in solitude, not getting out of bed and having trouble eating. He began to forego mundane tasks, necessary for human functioning, and the older Uchiha had to assist him with the simplest of things. Bathing, combing his hair, eating. Between his long work shifts and the demands of an entire department, Madara tries to find time to visit him, to help him, but life doesn't wait. Doctors gave him a barrage of medications for his mental state, but he refused to take even one.

Izuna withdrew into himself.

Consumed by anger and resignation, he walks through the garbage to get to his brother's room. It pains him to see the mess his home has become, and he can't help but remember the pristine state in which he kept his place before this happened. Izuna was always a man of neatness and tidiness, always groomed and well dressed, perfumed, ready to conquer whomever he wanted. The state in which his apartment is at the moment only reflects the inside of his head.

Now everything seems to have changed, and if someone were to see the situation without knowing its background, they would probably think it was the home of a hoarder. Where once there were beautiful decorations and family photos, now there are only empty soda cans and unlit cigarettes. The floor adorned by a beautiful carpet now lies covered with dirty clothes and empty food containers, a few full trash bags here and there.

Heartbreaking.

On the bed, an amorphous figure is visible under several quilts and blankets, and a head of matted hair peeks above the mess. Madara approaches slowly, not wanting to startle him, not knowing if he is asleep or awake, "Zuna...? Are you-" he jumps back in surprise, raising his fists reflexively as his younger brother lunges at him with a knife.

He brings him down before he can hurt him, trapping him under his arms on the bed and disarming him with experienced movements. Izuna was always the more agile of the two, but the one who least evaluates his moves before executing them.

"IZUNA! IT'S ME!" Exorbitant eyes stare at him intently, and he knows his younger brother must be trapped in a terrible loop of flashbacks and bad memories, horrible enough to sleep with a knife under his pillow. He concentrates his gaze on Izuna and can appreciate how different moods and reactions travel across his countenance, ending in heavy tears.

The younger Uchiha was never one to cry, but it seems to be the only thing he can do lately.

He disarms beneath him, freeing his hands and turning on the mattress, covering his face and refusing to confront him, "I'm sorry" is all he dares to say, repeating it over and over again like a mantra.

"It's okay, it's okay, you're safe..." He helps him up and hugs him tightly, hoping his arms can give him comfort, some sense of relief, his perfume helping him out of this horrible mental place he finds himself in.

Between words of encouragement and caresses on his back, Madara manages to lead him to the shower, preparing the water to a nice warm temperature, going to look for a bottle of his favorite shampoo among the groceries he bought for him. Helping him undress as one would assist a small child, he can't help but tear up inside at the fragility of his younger brother.

Izuna is just a hint of his former self, pale and consumed by anguish, skinny to an unhealthy level.

Once underwater, Madara estimates he has about forty minutes of productivity, using the time to clean up the mess all over the apartment. He bags piles and piles of garbage, mostly cans and plastic, clearing the floor at least enough for him to walk without stepping on objects as he goes.

He wipes down those shelves full of cigarettes, washes the dishes, and picks up a thousand trays of food scattered on the ground. He even has time to swipe a damp cloth on the mirror the younger Uchiha likes to use to dress himself.

Izuna finishes with the bath just as his older brother attends to changing his sheets, entering the room already clothed and with a towel wrapped around his hair. "Are you done? Need help with that?" The police chief points to the abandoned comb on the dresser, and when the other nods wordlessly, takes it and attacks the tangle he's had in his hair for days.

Madara likes to imagine each knot he manages to untangle is one step closer to getting his little brother back, working the hair patiently and restoring it to the neat look he enjoyed wearing.

"Look at you, all nice and tidy..." There is no reaction under his hands, and he knows not even the smallest gestures will be able to pull him out of the hole he fell into. No matter how much he helps, his efforts seem to be in vain. "I was wondering about taking your phone for investigation now...? I brought you a new one, new number and all, just to be safe."

Madara still hoped his brother would eventually come to his senses, regain his innate police thinking and understand it was necessary to hand over the device for research. There's a chance it could be the biggest breakthrough in the whole case, but the elder Uchiha didn't want to impose his rank and seize it without permission.

Maybe he should have, because days go by and Izuna doesn't hand it over, yet this is his younger brother, not just any victim.

There is no way of knowing if the white demon infiltrated his life through technology, not knowing Tobirama's age and capabilities. The biggest possibility is that he tracked him by his cell phone, intruding into his private life without the detective even knowing.

"No." Is all he replies, not moving from the spot despite Madara being done with his hair. The police chief snorts with indignation, but refuses to give up the fight so easily. "I got the contact information from that therapist Itachi used when he needed it, remember? He's a great guy, they say he's really good at what he does... I made an appointment for you to see him." He grabs the phone he brought for his brother as a replacement for the one that might be tapped, and hands it to him.

Izuna, unmoving, doesn't even look up, nor does he hold the device when it is passed to him.

"His name is Hashirama and... where is it, Izuna?" He asks looking in all directions, searching with his eyes for the phone. and remembering not seeing it when he tidied the room. "Where did you hide it-" A buzzing sounds in the bed, and the pillow lights up slightly. Having changed the sheets, the Uchiha is surprised he didn't notice it, and as he opens the cover, he tries to understand why his brother is so stubborn about keeping that damn phone with him.

An unbecoming attitude of Izuna, it seems he is trying to hide the device, not to see it.

The Uchiha, like any young adult, finds that smartphone a must-have, always carrying it with him everywhere he goes and never letting the battery run out. The typical person who takes thirty pictures of food before eating, now keeps the phone buried in the bed, as if trying to ignore it or make it disappear.

It doesn't make sense.

The screen lights up again when he finds it between the pillow stuffing, with 10% battery remaining and a message from an unknown number just delivered to his inbox. He can't read the contents of it since the system doesn't recognize his facial structure, but something doesn't sit right with him about the situation.

"I don't need any therapist or any medication I-"

"I'm not asking you, I'm simply informing you. You will go, it's a fact, this can't go on like this. Why did you hide it there? What are you not telling me?" Madara gives no room for argument, taking the old phone and stashing it in his coat. He doesn't bother with an evidence bag, having broken the usual protocol since he found Izuna at the motel.

"If you check it, there's no going back Aniki." He replies slowly, in an almost imperceptible tone of voice, not daring to look at him. There is something in his words that unnerves him and puts him on alert, as if his younger brother is premonishing something.

"Maybe it will allow us to move on. I'm going to catch him, Zuna, promise. I brought you food, please eat something." He assumes it's about his trauma, reliving that terrible moment once the team manages to discover information on his phone and finally have material to track him down. Madara is convinced this little device has everything he needs to stop the assassin, and he will not rest until he has sentenced him to death.

Izuna does not answer, but seems to want to say something. He looks up and appears to deeply admire him, as if he wanted to engrave the image of his older brother in his memory. He is about to speak, but Madara's personal cell phone buzzes, the ringtone flooding the room.

He looks at the screen before answering, "Obito" reflecting back on the phone, and gives him a kiss on the crown of his head before leaving. "I have to get back to the station, but call me if you need anything, yes?" he strokes his wet hair, and whispers a small " I love you" to which he receives no reply. He makes sure to lock the door once outside and carries in his hands all the garbage bags he gathered in the apartment.

That's the last time he sees his brother before everything goes to hell.

[unholyhelbig]

im a sucker for vampire!bea (No pun intended, but also, yes pun intended if ur into it)

[A/n: I'm never against vampire puns, especially when there's a lot at stake...]

Summary: Bodies start popping up within the city drained of blood and torn at the throat. Detective Ava Silva and her new partner Beatrice Alexander are determined to crack the case before more victims are discovered. But when recent technological advancements threaten how things are done, Beatrice has to put more trust in her partner than ever before.

Trigger warning: Please respect your triggers- like any creature feature there is blood, and death, and violence.

Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Request Prompts

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

The Blood Ties that Bind | Chapter Five | Ava Silva x Sister Beatrice

It took Ava a few moments to orient herself to the situation she had gotten into. When she blinked the sleep from her eyes and took note of the golden light manipulated by the falling rain against her bedroom windows, she realized the beauty in it.

This was her room, the same cracked walls, the same original hardwood floor. A copy of the Great Gatsby was flipped open-faced against her nightstand. She’d only gotten a few pages in before her eyes drooped. But still, she couldn’t sleep.

She hadn’t slept for a full night in a long time. Ava would get flashes of the accident. They were projected onto her ceiling, wedged between the water stains and darkness from the risen ash. But last night had been different. Quiet (after being decidedly loud).

Ava was sore, she was exhausted. Yet, she wanted more. That innate need for control that Beatrice brought to the crime scene translated well when they passed the threshold of her apartment. She could still feel the soft nips at her throat, the way that Beatrice soothed them with her tongue. And her fingers. God- her fingers were magical.

She choked a shudder that threatened to rush through her at the thought. But that would run the risk of waking Beatrice up, and she certainly didn’t want to do that. Not until she processed the reason she had been so hungry for the woman in the first place.

Detective Alexander was good-looking, stunning, even. The sheets were pulled modestly over her chest, moving up and down as the sun flit against her freckled cheeks, her honey-kissed skin. Ava was certain that she left marks of her own, across Beatrice’s collarbone, her jawline that could cut glass. But there was nothing but softness, nothing but warmth.

If she were in the uncomfortable gray chair across from the precinct-appointed therapist, she would be able to digest this. Or pretend to digest it until it finally washed over her later over a burnt cup of coffee. Maybe it was the power balance. Maybe it was something that she had buried deep down under her reluctance for a new partner.

Ava wanted to get to a level of closeness with a partner, and she couldn’t deny that this type of closeness wasn’t something that made her unwind. Boy, did it make her unwind. Four times, maybe it was five, the last two blended together magnificently. Right now, her thoughts swam.

“Are you watching me sleep?” Beatrice didn’t open her eyes.

“What? No!”

“It’s creepy. You’re being creepy.” Beatrice opened her eyes and they caught the light like shaved gold. She didn’t flinch away from the brightness. “What’s on your mind?”

Ava propped herself up on her elbow. She didn’t hesitate to tuck a piece of hair behind Beatrice’s ear. The woman swallowed hard, eyes fluttering at the slight, electric touch. She felt it too, maybe, the draw to one another that was muffled in rain, and death, and the protocols of sorting through it all.

She wanted Beatrice to unwind. Though she was naked in Ava’s bed right now with the sun kissing every inch of exposed skin, a small ballet-slipper pink disruption in her skin had caught her eye, right on the side of her throat. It was old and grafted into her, but noticeable all the same.

Ava felt such a warm fondness envelope her, though there was a spot of cold that came right after. She let out a small breath. “I’m afraid I don’t know very much about you.”

“Oh,”

“Yeah.” She lowered herself back down onto the mattress, stared at the one stain on the ceiling “Don’t get me wrong, last night was… wow. Like, seriously, mind-blowing and I would very much like to do it again if you’re so inclined-“

Beatrice’s hand cupped her jaw, guided her face to the side. It effectively cut off her rambling. The sheet had slipped, and Ava was practicing her restraint and respectfulness. Beatrice had a shit-eating grin on her face that faltered to something more genuine.

“Detective Silva, I like you. If you have questions, I will do my absolute best to answer them.”

The slight movement of her thumb against Ava’s cheek was electric, a chill shooting down her spine. She breathed into the admission. She liked Beatrice too- against all her might, she liked her and her quiet mannerisms. Infuriating, yes, but Ava had been told the same thing about herself on more than one occasion.

“Okay,” Ava said, less brave than she was before. “Alright… I told you about my family. The closest thing that I’ve ever had to one. What about yours?”

There was a flicker of apprehension on Beatrice’s face that vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. She traced her thumb over the constellation of freckles on Ava’s cheek, a small crease forming between her eyebrows.

“My parents have passed. Thankfully it was nothing more than old age and the sands of time that took them. But, I still find myself missing them some days, more than others.” Beatrice turned on her side, pulled her touch away, and hugged the pillow closer to the side of her face. Their noses were almost touching. “Like when I meet a brilliant girl that I would love to take home.”

Ava groaned at the fruitless flirting, but she could feel blush reach every inch of her exposed skin, flaming at her throat. Beatrice smirked triumphantly.

Beatrice laughed, continuing tentatively “I grew up in Virginia, learned all the local history there. My mother was a piano teacher and taught me how to play no matter how much I protested. My father owned a bank. Very proper, the both of them.”

“Like mother like daughter, I suppose” Ava beamed, a teasing lilt in her voice.

“Ava, there was nothing proper about what we did last night.”

Beatrice shifted, her movements quick and assured. She straddled Ava’s waist, the girl whimpering at the contact. Beatrice peppered her jaw with kisses, little nips that she soothed with the wetness of her tongue.

“My favorite color is yellow, and I really like frogs. Frogs are nice.” Beatrice moved lower, sucking on her pulse point with an expertise that made her stomach roll. How as Ava supposed to focus again? Her mind was hazy. “I think the best movie of this century is Airplane, the humor amuses me.”

She was against Ava’s collarbone now, Beatrice’s fingers raking up her sides. She writhed under the woman, and while she may disagree with her choice in movies, she couldn’t quite voice that opinion with the heat licking between her thighs, and the sweetness trailing with stifled moans.  

She had showered twice over before deciding to venture to the church. It felt blasphemous, somehow, that she slide into a wooden pew at the back of a cool, dark space after begging for God for the better part of the night before, and well into the morning. Ava’s knee’s ached, but for entirely different reasons.

They throbbed now, as she let the large door creak shut with nothing more than a dull tap. She’d fought it, and dipped her fingers into the bowl of water at its entrance before miming a cross. When she was younger, she had attended Catholic mass once or twice after spending the whole night chattering with friends in the stifling heat of sleeping bags.

Her mother would ask her if she had learned anything, and she hadn’t. Churches all smelled the same, had the deep oak art on the walls and the sunlight that flitted through stained glass. It was all about damnation, one sin or one hundred sins would always lead to the same endgame. A burning eternity in hell, and a fear-mongering man shouting about Dante’s inferno.

Still, she fingered the business card in her hand. There was a gold foil cross etched along the back, pointed at each end. A near recreation of the symbol that had been painted in blood on the wall of the Hoarder House. She should have called Beatrice.

Ava should have gotten over her pride and the two of them could be here together. But that stubborn part of her had reared its ugly head and calling this soon after she blinked the stars from her eyes seemed desperate. Though, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into Beatrice’s skin, to hold on tight and not let go and forget about all of this religious-cult-killing bullshit.

And it was, bullshit, wasn’t it? She’d shifted her line of thinking from one person to a group. A group much like this one. They surrounded her, paged through the slim paper of the bibles and placed sweaty dollars into an offertory that was passed around like an STD at a nursing home.  

She picked up the bible in front of her, flipped it to a random page. None of the words registered, not at all, but it felt juvenile to sit there and stare down the man who had given her the card in the first place. He lingered to the side of the raised transept, his hands clasped.

At the podium was another man, one that held the rapt attention of the nave and those who lingered within it. There were more people than she was expecting on a Wednesday night. Some looked as if they had blown in with the storm, others were comfortable as he clenched either side of the podium.

His voice was smooth, his words were commanding. And for a moment, Ava was certain that she would follow this man into battle. Not only that, but she’d take a bullet for him. None of his words were registering, but his eyes flashed with admiration for her and certainly had enough for everyone in the room.

She could feel sweat slick her palms and drip down the small of her back, canceling out the showers she had taken an hour earlier. What was it about this man? She should have felt fear, something that would tip her off to leave the church and get to the nearest payphone. She’d call Beatrice.

She was going to call Beatrice.

Before Ava knew it, the service was coming to an end. The man at the front of the church held a gauntlet filled with syrupy red liquor that she was certain was watered down, maybe non-alcoholic altogether. She’d stolen a bottle of it during her cousins’ Christmas play when she was fifteen and downed it before realizing it was nothing but sugar and carbonation.

Linda still didn’t’ forgive her for ruining the performance of a century with her debauchery. But, there were only so many times Ava could learn the story about the three wise men. Her mother had tried to keep a straight face but ultimately broke out into a smile mid-scold.

Ava wanted to duck out. It felt wrong to participate in communion for a church that she was surveilling for an investigation. But she was suddenly being pushed forward by a crowd of people that she hadn’t noticed before. They seemed eager. She was apprehensive.

There was a cold hand in hers, holding them both with a kindness that felt unmatched. It flooded her soul. Ava stuttered “I really shouldn’t-“

“Nonsense,” The man smiled “Everyone is welcome here. My name is Adriel, and in my book, that means that we know one another.”

His book. The one that was tucked under his arm was God’s book. Or, the culmination of beliefs that stemmed from comfort. Religion stroked egos, and this man, Adriel, certainly had one. It didn’t’ bother Ava. She didn’t snap at him or refuse the papery chip that was put into her palm.

“The body of Christ,” Adriel watched as she placed the chip on her tongue. It was dry, scratched her throat. He was quick with the heavy metal cup filled with flowering color. “The cup of salvation.”

Ava allowed him to guide her as he carefully tipped the cup. She took a small swallow, the liquid metallic and briny. She nearly choked against the taste but gulped twice more before he pulled the drink away.

“Non-alcoholic, I’m afraid.” Adriel laughed.

Ava felt color on her cheeks, embarrassed. He’d guided her, hadn’t he? She brushed it off and moved to the side. The man she had met at the bar regarded her with a soft stare and something she likened to pity.  

Beatrice wanted to tell Ava everything and that was a dangerous combination of hubris and stupidity. While she let the water in her shower cascade over her, breathing in the heavy steam with her forehead against the tile, she allowed herself to come back to reality.

Each time she closed her eyes she could feel Ava writhing beneath her, the small sounds she made as she twitched around her fingers, her tongue. There had been other girls- of course there had. But she would usually slip out before they stirred, too afraid to get attached to something that wasn’t her own routine.

Occasionally, when the hunger gnawed at her with such ferocity that control slipped from her grasp, she would drain them- drink until her stomach hurt and blood ran down her chin. It was messy, it was reckless. They wouldn’t be missed. Getting away with it was somehow worse.

Ava was infuriating, one of the worst people she ever had the displeasure of working with. And yet, she challenged Beatrice in a sea of predictability. There was nothing normal about Detective Silva right down to the tragic backstory. Beatrice found herself wanting to be around her with a consistency that shattered her usual tolerance.

Beatrice shut off the water, the cold prickling against her skin. She’d never considered this before, never considered being honest and that scared her more than the threat of eternal life truly being eternal. She toweled off, pulled on the clothes that she had gotten from her closet, and meticulously folded.

It occurred to her, right then and there, that she hadn’t eaten all day, hadn’t felt the burning need to when she was curled into the softness of Ava’s chest. That want was satiated for the time being, not entirely gone, but quiet among the sea of her thoughts.

She found Lilith flipping through a magazine at the kitchen island, leaning her full weight on the granite despite being too stubborn to use a chair. “There’s an extra little pep in your step. You either got laid, or murdered someone, or both.”

“The first one”

Beatrice spoke into the neon harshness of the fridge, pulling some of the rations from her supplies that usually quelled late-night cravings. The blood danced against the side of a mug, she didn’t bother heating it up. Instead, she put the small of her back on the counter and cradled the drink, taking a long, molasses sip.

Lilith grinned “Oh? Some spur-of-the-moment thing, then?”

“No,” She took another gulp “It was Ava.”

“Your partner? The woman that you’ve been complaining about since we got to the city? The woman who drives you absolutely mad?”

“The very same. The tension just burst; I suppose.”

Burst, it had. The floodgates had opened and she had taken a garden trowel to its mass, trying to scoop it back in. It was simply impossible. Beatrice smiled into her cup and Lilith straightened up, shutting the magazine with one of her eyebrows perched.

“Beatrice Alexander, are you taken by this woman?”

She didn’t dignify her with an answer, instead, she finished off the mug of blood and rinsed it in the sink until the water ran a tangy pink. Beatrice could hear the teasing lilt in Lilith’s voice, and for once, it didn’t bother her. She quite enjoyed it.

When the phone rang, it disrupted the quiet of the morning that Beatrice was content to bask in for the rest of the day. Lilith rolled her eyes and inadvertently wrapped the cord around her fingertips in a nervous habit.

“Yeah?” Lilith frowned, pressed the white plastic closer to her ear. It took everything in Beatrice not to eavesdrop. “Right. Okay. Sure, I’ll let her know.”

She grimaced as she hung up the phone. The cold of the conversation always struck before the contemplation and neither of those things paled in comparison to the fear that dropped to the base of her stomach. She’d seen this expression on Lilith’s face only once before.

Bad news usually comes on days when the sun is shining when the rain has let up and the air was warm. The day that she stood with her hands gloved in latex and tucked behind her back. Beatrice felt like it was an intrusion to be in the room. She felt like the sun was even more of an encroachment and itched to draw the curtains.

That look of pure dread was readable on Lilith’s face when she was told that there was too much blood in her lungs for them to do anything but wait. She’d get worse, crumble into herself until she was nothing but a whisp of herself. She could do nothing but roll over and attempt to lick wounds that would never heal.

Beatrice stared at her now, thankful that she hadn’t put the mug in the sink. It would have shattered into a million pieces against the hardwood floor. Instead, she used the counter to brace herself. She needed to hear her say it.

Lilith’s fingers ghosted over her collarbone in a nervous habit. “That was Vincent.” 

By the time Beatrice and Lilith had gotten to the apartment building, the sky had grown dark, but the night hadn’t cooled off. While the walls were warm with dry rot, thin and brittle enough for Beatrice to pick up on the music streaming through the hallway without straining her ears.

The brass doorknob felt like putty in her hand. Beatrice didn’t worry about shoving into Ava’s apartment. Inevitably, she knew it would be empty and dank. But more than anything, she hoped that it would give her the key to the elaborate trap that was set for her.

Lilith scrunched up her face when she got a good look at the surroundings, the takeout boxes that were strewn on the counter, and the large number of paperback books that had been taped together again and again, pages brittle. She picked up a Rubik's cube, and measured the weight in her palm.

“I wonder how long she’s been working on this.”

Beatrice called for Ava, ignoring the sly comment. She called out to her, guided herself to the bedroom, and swallowed back the warmth in the base of her stomach. The sheets were still tangled, the room smelling so thickly of them.

There was a set of papers on the dresser, all muddled together, pieces of research she had taken home and let get sodden with coffee and the musk of the apartment building. It was overwhelming to Beatrice now. She suddenly felt as if she were back in the hot summer of 73’ clawing at the chance to regain her breath.

A baseball cap that looked like it had been worn by the pitcher for hell's personal team was mounted on the wall, caked in dirt. She hadn’t noticed it before and was willing to be her long life that it belonged to JC. Dirt and sweat still rimmed the cap.

This was nothing of consequence to Beatrice, not after Vincent had called them with a thinly-veiled threat. Deep down, past all the admiration and longing she had for Ava, she still knew at her core that there was a stubbornness that spurred her into investigating something alone.

“I don’t want your pity coffee Ava! I want your honesty. How many times do I have to tell you? We’re partners.”

Partners yes, soulmates, maybe. She couldn’t decide yet. Not with the waves of anger and then fear that was enveloping her at every turn. They were all washed out by the desperate need to find her. Beatrice could be livid later, she knew how long to hold a grudge. Right now, she needed to be resourceful.

On the nightstand there was a paperback version of the Great Gatsby sat dog-eared. She seemed to be about halfway through. Beatrice picked it up, leafed through it. A small cardstock piece of paper fell from its margins and landed on the floor next to one of Beatrice’s socks. She knelt and picked it up, thankful that she had moved herself closer to solid ground.

It was a leaflet that someone would pedal on the streets. An advertisement for a church. All in all, nothing too alarming, the perfect bookmark. But there was something else on the front, a raised indentation in the paper, the carbon copy of the brand that rest between Beatrice’s shoulder blades.

The address had leaked from water damage, the condensation of a cold drink. It was readable, though, and that was enough for her. Despite the dizzying fog in her mind, Beatrice stood and exited the bedroom. She froze.

Lilith had dropped a solved Rubik’s cube on the carpeted floor. Her back was pressed against the brittle wall, a dusting of drywall was on the sleeves of her coat. A double-barrel shotgun was pressed under her chin.

The neighbor.

Beatrice braced for her sidearm but stopped herself when the half-feral eyes of Mary met hers. She wouldn’t be fast enough. They both knew it. That didn’t stop her from running her finger over the cold metal edge of the weapon.

“I knew something was off about you.” Mary said, “When you were with Ava the other night, something was off. And I can’t believe I didn’t catch it.”

“Can we have this conversation on the couch?” Lilith tried, working her jaw.

“Shut your goddamned mouth or I’ll blow it off you,” Mary growled. Something had snapped within her, or maybe it had snapped a long time ago and was just waiting to buckle. Never truly healing. “Leeches, both of you. Old ones too.”

Beatrice despised the term. They were slimy things found in the muck at the bottom of a swamp, clinging to anything that had a pulse. She had standards and felt like they were hardwired into her. She had entered into this life with brutality, taking whatever she wanted in the dangerous mob mentality that Adriel had drilled into her.

At the time, it felt like family. More of a family than her parents. She had worked hard to break the habit, locked herself away for days until even the air that she breathed was dry and painful like sandpaper against her throat. Each time she wanted to indulge, she would think of the fear in her mother’s eyes, the gurgled and desperate choking sounds she made as Beatrice slowly took her life.

Beatrice took a chance, her breath shaky “Shoot her.”

“Wait, no. No.” Lilith stumbled out, Mary narrowed her eyes, trying to get a handle on Beatrice’s play.

“You’re a smart girl. I could smell the Aconitum on you the second you opened your door.”

“Then you know that I lace my bullets with it.” Mary sneered; Lilith was sweating through her clothes. She was scared, a healthy dose of fear that the older woman hadn’t gotten a taste of in a long time. “If the blast doesn’t kill her, the Aconitum will. I’ll make it quick, Baby girl, don’t worry.”

Beatrice took a step forward, opting to take her hand away from her sidearm entirely. Mary only tightened her own grip, pushing the metal close enough to Lilith’s throat that it could cut skin. Lilith made a small noise, one that pained Beatrice, she remained steadfast.

“You’ve noticed the uptick in vampires in the city, haven’t you? New ones, easy to kill but there are a lot of them. And they’re traveling together. I bet that makes it so much harder for you to do your job, doesn’t it?”

Mary didn’t say anything. But her grip loosened, only for a quick second before it tightened again.

“We’ve noticed too, and we’re on our way to stop it. I can’t do it alone. I need her, and you.”

“What the fuck makes you think I would work with you?” She gritted but faltered “I’ve spent my entire life killing vermin like you for less than breaking into my neighbor’s apartment. In fact, I’m beginning to realize that I was a fool for faltering in the first place.”

She cocked the sleeve of the gun, the sound was deafening, and Lilith clenched her eyes shut. She whimpered. Nothing she could do would be fast enough. They were quick, yes, but the air was floral and Beatrice’s skin was balmy. Mary wore the herb that weakened them like perfume, a permanent scent.

“Mary, they have Ava!” Beatrice’s voice broke, it was a desperate sob. She would drop down to her knees and beg that the woman let Lilith live. There was nothing that would stop Beatrice from dropping into helplessness without her. “I screwed up. I got close to her and now she’s in danger. It’s my fault.”

“Keep talking, Bloodsucker.”

“There is a very dangerous group of vampires that believes in the ideology that they’re the superior race and while they’ve been dormant for a very very long time, it seems that they’ve reared their ugly heads.”

“Where do you fall into all of this?” Mary asked.

“I wronged them.” Beatrice’s voice cracked again, threatening to break. “They’ve been after me for a long time. I got complacent.”

“You can shoot as many vampires as you want.” Lilith gave a weak smile, the gun shifted, clicking loud “Not me, not me!”

Mary lowered her shoulders and lowered the tip of the gun with them. Lilith let out a long exhale that had been festering inside of her lungs. She sloped down the wall until she was sitting on the aged carpet, glaring at the solved Rubik’s cube, thinking that the last thing she would ever solve wouldn’t’ be the vampire crisis, but a hand-held puzzle.

The pews in the church gave off a pungent pine scent that echoed the small tree hanging from the rearview mirror of Lilith’s Buick. It was damp in here, the air palpable. Somewhere in the roof, there was a crack in the structure, a square piece of tiling that made everything smell like must. It covered up the underlying tones of blood, but Beatrice and Lilith caught it almost immediately.

Light streamed through the windows, catching the stained-glass scenery of a baby in a manger, three wise men delivering their bountiful gifts. Virgin Mary held her fingers up in a yellow fit of glass filament. Beatrice felt as if she was being watched, being judged by the figures on the wall and the oxidized copper Jesus that bled a bluish-green liquid from its nail-stricken hands.

This counted as the second time within the last forty-eight hours that Beatrice saw Ava kneeling. The first time was more enjoyable. This werewolfed fear against every inch of her body, all the way down to her toes.

Adriel stood behind her, a hand on her shoulder, a sickening smile on his face. His hair had gotten longer, echoed the savior that shadowed him. He wore a simple expression despite how resolutely he held Ava to the carpeted step of the ambo. Vincent sat in the first pew, lifting his eyebrows at the intrusion, ultimately looking bored.

“You’re late for mass Miss Alexander,” Adriel said, his voice echoing. “Don’t worry, dear. We can fill you in.”

“Enough with the theatrics.” Beatrice hissed. “Let her go.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let any of you go until some decisions are made.”

He peered past their shoulder. The ancient and heavy click of a lock echoed through the church. Lilith chanced a look behind her, still keeping her distance from Mary. The girl braced a shotgun against her chest and frowned at the men in front of her and the girl who had sealed them in.

“Fitting then,” Lilith scoffed, “That we would have our very own Judas.”  

Beatrice frowned. Camila exited the shadows, playing into the melodramatics. It was impossible not to, surrounded by bibles and Catholic architecture. She struggled to grapple with the situation, tracking the girls’ movements as she joined Vincent and Adriel at the front of the church.

How long had the wolf been in the henhouse?

Adriel was known for his patience, for his long cons that not only embedded someone into the life of another but intertwined them until the tendrils refused to separate. Beatrice cared for Camila, and despite herself, still cared.

“Oh, by all means, take your time digesting thirty years’ worth of betrayal, darling. Ava is quite comfortable where she is.”  

He squeezed her shoulder and Beatrice fought the urge to surge forward. There was a noise that was housed in the center of her chest, a growl that was primal and without resistance. Ava’s eyes were glassy, her breath shaking as it pushed past her lips. She was scared.

“Fine,” Beatrice said, speaking loud enough for the windows to contain her voice “I’ll go with you. That’s what you really want, isn’t it? It’s what you’ve always wanted. For me to join your movement without protest.”

Adriel laughed “Oh, I’ve given up on that a long time ago, Beatrice! There is nothing satisfying about forced compliance. There is, however, so much joy in ripping everything you care about away from you.”

He walked to the other side of Ava, trailing his fingers against the back of her neck, to her older shoulder. She was trembling now. Something kept her from moving, whether it be threats or Adriel’s command of the room. Lilith was vibrating with anger behind her, Mary hugged the weapon closer, having lost most of her gull.

“For such a long, infuriating time, you wouldn’t let yourself care about anyone. For good reason, I’m sure. Then you found Nurse Watson back there and I thought, why not target her? But, tuberculosis took care of that, didn’t it?” He hopped down onto the same step “Didn’t expect you to get desperate enough for a friend that you would actually turn her.”

Beatrice grits her teeth, her jaw ached, but she remained silent. Ava was staring directly at her, eyes misty and rimmed in red. She breathed so softly that it was barely audible. Tears dripped lines against her cheeks, left soft, spreading spots on her shirt.

“Camila was a shock, even for me. I mean, not only to turn someone you cared for into everything you despise but to do it twice over.” He laughed like it was the most amusing thing, it bordered unhinged. Adriel was enjoying this entirely too much. “Dear, there is nothing that you despise more than yourself, the creature festering within you. The decision you made all those years ago.”

Adriel took his slow and calculated steps until he was directly in front of Beatrice. She could smell the metallic twinge in his breath, the snarl of each word.

 “I could kill you, Miss Alexander, for abandoning our movement. But that would be a mercy. So instead, I’ll kill her.”

Mary moved in a haunted gesture, raising the shotgun and firing it off just as Vincent decided to lunge from the pew. The wood of the altar exploded into a million pieces, shattering in its rotted glory. Beatrice’s ears were ringing with enough ferocity that she could barely hear the snap of Ava’s neck.

“Ava!” The scream tore through Beatrice’s throat she attempted to run to her, using every ounce of her strength to push forward. Adriel held her back, her shoes slipping against the muggy carpet. She fought back a sob, failed, and let another one rock through her body. “You bastard! You fucking bastard!”

Camila wrenched the gun from Mary’s hands, shoving her knee into the girl’s abdomen and bringing her to her knees, just as another shot went off and took the face off a wooden carved baby Jesus, crafted with wings. Lilith had her bent over a pew within seconds, baring her fangs with a deep, twisted hiss.

Adriel laughed, loud and free, before letting Beatrice push past him. She was on her hands and knees, begging for salvation, as she pulled Ava’s limp body into her lap. Vincent blinked hard, looked away from them.

Ava was limp in her arms. She pulled her close and breathed in that same soft vanilla scent that she had woken up to. Instead of the warm breath against her throat, she felt nothing. Another sob ripped through her chest, she clung to Ava’s shirt and held her close.

“You can’t do this,” Beatrice whispered, “you can’t do this, Ava, please.”

She prayed to an unforgiving God. She was exhausted in her soft movements, tucking a piece of hair behind Ava’s ear, swallowing hard. Her fingers were shaking, her lungs were burning. There was a subtle tinny scent to the air, brackish in its entirety. Beatrice glowered at Adriel, who spread his arms out simply like a showman.

“Take a bow, you sick fuck.” Beatrice scorned. “It’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

Adriel squatted in front of them, whispering “Now, what fun would it be to take her away entirely?”

[harumasafart]

HELLO. I PLAYED JEDI SURVIVOR TODAY

i just left coruscant and im chilling in the mantis. its late and i have a busy day tomorrow so i dont wanna stay up all night. heres my first thoughts

it is visually STUNNING!! i was genuinely so shocked at how beautiful the home page is. all of the uis are stylized similarly to jfo, but its polished and new in a way that i really appreciate. a standout addition in the options menu was an arachnophobia safe mode. i think its awesome how they’re making this game accessible to people with phobias like that. i don’t know what this spider monster will be like, but it must be kinda intense to warrant an option like that. but it also made me think, “why just arachnophobia?” because including something like this opens the door to other pressing phobias that can prevent people from playing. i have thalassophobia, and the venator crash section in jfo was very dimly lit and it was so much i almost wasnt able to get the 5 or so chests hidden away in there. underwater sections in games can be a nightmare for me if they aren’t lit well and it freaks me the hell out. i wonder if they considered other phobias like mine, or what exactly drove them to this decision. i guess i need to just wait and see.

the graphics and worldbuilding are incredible. its so beautiful and the level design is noticeably upgraded. i have only been through a short linear area, but it’s great so far. everything is very very seamless (the gameplay to cutscene transitions.. fuck its perfect). there were some portions where the interactable surfaces blended in a bit too well, and i was also not used to the way they looked, and i found myself a little stuck in some parts. not to where its an issue, this happened in the jfo tutorial as well, but it was all just very seamless. coruscant is fucking beautiful and the vast cities, neon lights, and other little design details made me so happy. half my gameplay was just me gawking at the scenery around me.

let’s talk plot. i noticed that a lot of these first cutscenes closely follow what we saw in the first teaser trailer. that man (forogt his name..), cals lightsaber in the case, him losing a battle to an inquisitor, beautiful beautiful coruscant. the only thing missing is the character that cody fern plays, who is clearly very important to this game. but despite his importance, they’re keeping every detail they can hidden from us. i havent seen him yet as i’m not even in koboh, but i can’t wait. i love cody fern and i know he will do a great job in this game. that aside, from what i’ve seen so far, i’m really happy. i absolutely love bode and was not prepared for how much i would enjoy his and cal’s banter. and knowing me, of COURSE i couldnt help but make jokes over and over again about romance between them. my worst one was probably, after the reveal that bode’s baby mama died, i gasped and said “YAY!!!” ..anyway. i FORGET HER NAME but the girl that was apart of cal’s crew stole my heart. i thought she was so cute and i loved her personality and dialogue. and then they killed her off 😭 i knew i shouldnt have gotten attached but i couldnt help myself!!! rest in peace girl whose name ive already forgotten.

the customization is such an upgrade. and it also leaves for some hilarious results. you know i went all out with the blindingly pink lightsaber and blade. i did it to bd too and he looked crazy and i felt bad so i gave him a pink and purple look. i got the deluxe version so i have the luke and han outfits along with some blue and green color choices, bd parts, and lukes lightsaber. im gonna hold off on customizing my lightsaber too much until i get some more parts. the joy of this game is being able to mix and match! and for cal, the no beard option is genuinely scary and he looks naked😭

gameplay is so smooth and SEXY. loving the two bladed sabers so far. i am a double lightsaber girl because of darth mauls influence but i know its better suited for crowds of enemies rather than one on one (in jfo at least). i might upgrade it a bit though because wow the animations are just beautiful for that stance.

i think thats about all i have to say. oh cal is absolutely GORGEOUS. excited to play more of this tomorrow and i am just really happy depression cured 10/10 game

[softness-and-shattering]

I was fully expectinflg ghe hag to have lair acrions, after all that warning eith the door and the myltie stage descent into the lair. Though I guess having the duplicates fulfilled the same role re action economy, and a party of four isnt so big, its not like a cr or d20 party of 6-8. Ive played in bigger groups and its not great.

I wasnt feeling fantastic today so I noodled around unfinished act 1 quests. I found the letter to Kagha. Im torn bc its super fun to have a secret backstory of shadow druids but like. She cant just be a bitch, she has to be 'evil' too? Idk.

Curious if Ill get a dialogue option to tell Halsin about it and how he'll react. I still cant seem to add him to my party. Does he just hang out at camp?

I also found the Harpers lookout. Ive found the scuffed rock, and a similar significant rock by the bridge on the Risen Road but neither Laezel or Larlach can throw them, shoving does nothing, shatter does nothing. Do I specifically need thunderwave? Or a telekinesis spell? What am I missing?

While trying to work out if Wyll can learn thunderwave (seems not) I discovered he has Gaseous Form so I tried using that to investigate some of the burrows Ive come across. The risen road one behind the bouse just leads into the crllar. Havent actually looted that yet. Went into the owlbear cave but couldnt find the burrow in there. And then I remembered Auntie Ethel and got caught up in that quest area.

Thr guy hunting Asterion is interesting. Left him peacefully. Astarion doesnt like me much. I wanted to ask who was huntong him but instead he asked where he was to be taken. Baldurs Gate of course. All roads lead to Baldurs Gate. Excepting that I have quests in thr city like finding Dammon and Mol, Id be starting to believe getting there is the end of the game. I want to buy my people nice clothes! Especially Karlach! And I took Wyll out of armour so he could use mage armour and he was suddenly rather naked. Switched him to showing camp clothes but it was a bit silly.

Mm at one point I directed Wyll to eldritch blast a redkap and instead he used arms of hadar on my bard. I dont know if I misclicked badly or if his patron is messing with him but it didnt happen again. I did swap him out soon after.

Slaps BG3 thus bad boy can hold so many entrances to the underdark! Theres the selunite temple, the drop from the spider lair, the elevator from the zhentarim hideout (considering gaseous form to loot those juice treasure rooms), the feather fall portal from Ethels lair, am I missing any? Presumably the moon towers/baldurs gate exit.

I was partway through the arcane tower when I started today but I wanted lighter questing. And geez area/act 2 has so many magical weapons. Im tempted to keep them all for some super specific cirumstance but id probably do better to sell them. Slowly working out what can be sold.

Im actually kinda mad that rope isnt practical. I got into a dumb pickle in the caravan cave with the gnolls. Jumped down to loot an area and two of my guys couldnt jump back. Grabbed rope and...its useless. So I took a long redy and fed em potions of giants strength and they made the leap easy. (Speaking of I am so tempted to open the case but those letters were very strict about not opening it and idk who its for and what their significance may be. Maybe its treasure. Maybe its a chest full of eye-yeerks. Who knows?)

Im also not absorbing the other eye slugs. Was it the narrator or dream guardian, the first time I used the illithid power, who said "You have lost something you will never get back". I do nooot trust it. Probably second playthrough Ill do it just to play with the game mechanic. Also romance Minthara maybe. I dont trust the sleep guardian but I dont super distrust her either. Idk what her deal is. But we're not absorbing more slugs losing more of ourselves no thanks. Back to the yeerk pool with them.

I do really love the quest diamonds that tell you where to go. "Find my missing husband please" oh there he is he got quite lost huh. Im still laughing at "and dont try ransom him back to me or you'll be skiny and stuck with an old man". The dialogue is really good. Laezel doesnt say shes monogamous, she says "I was interested but all the dogs have been picking you over. I prefer fresher meat". A little degrading, but at leasy shes not doing some weird jealousy thing. Usually I face with my bard. But then I used Karlach to talk to Dammon and all the dialogue options are perfectly in her voice, its great.

Im also loving the map design. Theres plenty going on and plenty to do, but not so much that you get lost in the weeds. Enough that it feels like a big grand world full of history and places to explore that arent directly plot relevant. Its a delicate balance of referring back to main events and keeping things tangential. (The women dealing w the hag for her husband. I never got to tell her about her brothers?? I thought it would be the first dialogue option but no zomvie busband abd off she goes to find their corpses on the fucking path?! Hut the devs cant think of *everything*, its ok).

Also the little things, undergrounds start getting spidery consistently, underground lairs lead to the underdark its very....verisimilitudinous???

Im also wondering if I can fo the underdark and the mountain pass righer in serial or at the same time. I do need to find the githyanki for Laezel that was our very first lead. Plus double the xp double the loot but I was forced into telling Halsin one or the other so idk if the game forces the issue.

K I think thats all I have to infodump today. Oh except seems like Shadowheart was a selunitr kid and thats pretty fucked. She likes me a lot. I dont think I reciprocate to that level. But astsrion doesnt like me much so yknow. Win some lose some.

[pwblogarchive]

February 2006

February 1, 2006

paris in a flash. breath in the air. love is the kind of magic you save for when you are cornered. its your backup. sing a scandal. papparazi on songs. tu es belle.

2/1/06 Q&A

question

are you aware that people are saying that theyll go to many of your shows on the black clouds and underdogs tour that they really arent going to go to? i noticed on the my local bands thing that people from arizona said that theyre going to the columbia show. does this mean theyre getting more points than everyone else? is this fair? what about all the honest kids out there that just want to see you guys and have fun? thanks! love you pete!

answer

we’re weeding out the cheaters. dont worry. keeping it honest will pay off in the end.

question

hey pete, at the aol sessions thing, why was andy in a whole different room? k well shelby

answer

he smells terrible. no. well haha- in order to record live drums and have it sound okay its better to isolate each instrument- especially with cymbals.

question

Yo Pete. I got my bamboozle tickets and I was wondering…are you guys gonna play like 4 songs, or a full set?

answer

we are most definitely going to play a full set.

question

have u ever taken a naked picture with nothing but a box of frosted flakes covering ur pieces and spaces? my myspace friend tony has… get it cuz tony the tiger……

answer

doesnt he wear like a bandana? thats kind of erotic.

question

PETER! So are you really engaged and having a baby?

answer

totally. we live in a castle in the sky and my backyard is made out of clouds. its real great except for when the dragon comes around.

question

hey love…my little sister is getting major surgery next week (7yrs old)….shes getting a feeding tube put into her stomach, and this time theyre going to have to move her organs around and try not to puncture them…and she loves you and patrick, you especially (she only listens to songs where she hears you in it..screaming)so if you have anything to say to her…cuz shes a wreck over this…she should be…and any suggestions for me, because…right now shes emotionally stronger over this than i am…i just keep on thinking if something goes wrong….anyway, thanx pete

answer

prettymuch you just need to think positively. you have not been made sisters by a series of accidents or coincidences. clearly, you love eachother and the best thing you can do is be there for her. ill think about her before i go to sleep tonight.

question

I heard that FOB is breaking up is it true xo

answer

no way. we are on our second honeymoon.

question

Ive never met you. All I know about you are internet rumors and what is on this website. And for some reason I find this easier to say to you than anyone I know. Im going through a really hard time in my life, where I feel that I dont fit in. Even with my close friends. At church, at home, everywhere. I dont even know myself now. Im so confused about everything, Im questioning my own religion, my morals, whats right and wrong…everything. I dont know what to do, and I have times when I just want to give up. I keep a razor in the drawer next to my bed just in case. I need help…and I dont feel like I can tell anyone, but just typing this all down makes me feel slightly better, knowing that maybe someone might read this and care about a small town nobody gives me enough strength to go on for another day.

answer

i totally understand what you are saying. i wish i could say that it all goes away, but i think these are things that will plague us all until our deathbed. i would definitely throw the razor away, you dont need it- its not a solution- sometimes its easier to take it kind of one breath at a time… you know? its easier in small steps.

question

What does “im two quarters in a heart down” mean?

answer

i was trying to through to someone on a payphone, it was a 50 cent call from where i was to them.

February 2, 2006 

1:16 pm 

this city helps me forget love doesn't bore me. it disappoints me. there is a pile of lamps and clocks stuck on 11:11. cause i wish i could fucking believe you. 

February 6, 2006

Amsterdam to los angeles.

I am in love with being home.

If you come out to the house of blues in la tommorrow we are playing a super smal show with: jacks mannequin and shiny toy guns. Its already sold out but were gonna give out 5 free tickets. Don’t get your hopes too high.

You aren’t my goodluck charm anymore.

February 7, 2006

momma and poppa are cute. they were all at the hob la show. my dad says "will you please introduce your mother to jay-z". jigga and my mommy totally chatted.

wow.

oh and the show was amazing.

- petey

2/07/06 Q&A

question

Sometimes you write about seeing “old fall out boy fans” at shows. How can you tell? No way you recognize all those faces. Also, I just wanted to say that my first memory of FOB was in the local section (i guess cause andy is from menomonee falls and the store was in milwaukee) of a record store by my house a few years ago & now the same band is on TV & t-shirts across the nation. fall out boy: what a trip.

answer

my visual memory is pretty good. usually i can remember faces. sometimes i am off. but i definitely remember kids in every single town. i can’t remember any names ever- my auditory memory is terrible.

question

JT LeRoy mystery solved: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/11215643/page/2/  

answer

disappointing.

February 8, 2006 

5:04 am 

so you want the truth been living just outside of okay for awhile now. but its changing. whatever story you heard about me is not true. im pretty sure im not gonna bring home a grammy tommorrow. but i will have lots of good pictures. how i am feeling about someone is always changing. except i am allowed to be happy inside my head right now. ive been scared of everything for far too long. i haven't let myself be alright. but ive done alot of thinking on the 12 hour flight here. i just like being around certain people. new friends make my heart flutter. old ones make me feel homesick. been going to grammy parties all week. yeah im that guy in the corner lurking hard. its kinda creepy. ive been training the last month for our video- however i think i may have sprained or fractured my foot in the last day. if this thing turns out the way it is supposed to- it will be the most epic thing fall out boy has ever done. i dont miss you but i do miss the idea of you. i went and looked at houses out in california again today- i want to get a dog and a backyard. maybe not just yet. but maybe. my clock is ticking on your pretty face. my dad got drunk tonight and talked shit to all of my friends. pretty amazing. i wish i had it on video. total release the bats two material. i want to do a tv show like the wonder years starring fall out boy. i don't think any networks would be too interested. dont call it a comeback. put pennies on my eyes when i die. you are new moons and fresh sheets and the end of that one dream. love the fancy kid. 

2/09/06 Q&A

question

do you ever wish you could start life all over again?

answer

yes. i think about it all the time. i would try and be more honest and not make so many mistakes.

question

I am holding my breath until the new Fall Out Boy video. When do you expect it to be finished?

answer

itll be done filming on tuesday- i promise you this is one of a kind. do not expect dance, dance again.

2/10/06

question

In the video Dance, Dance, you wispered to Patrick something. What did you whisper? And what was your favorite album and video that you made?

answer

“ive got to pee so bad”

question

pete, are you and ashlee simpson sexing?? ~the boardies P.S. she doesnt love you like we do

answer

okay just because this question has been asked one million times— we are friends. she is a sweet girl. ps- i could never lololove a girl as much as the boardies.

question

so what products do you use to keep your face blemish free?

answer

pore cleanser, reinvigorator, and a t-zone moisturizer by ponds.

question

why is Patrick the on;y one who smiles in like all of your albums and postres and stuff? i mean i was looking at the cover to “take tis to your grave” and patrick was the only one smiling.

answer

he makes us all super sad right before the pictures are taken always. and then smiles cause he likes it when people are sad. or the other answer is i dunno.

February 19, 2006

things that both currently annoy and amuse me:

ariplanes

"hottie mchottie" and other hilarious lines that should not be said.

east coast weather.

west coast girls.

yawning.

being awake all night.

i am tired.

- petey

February 19, 2006

posted from petes friends or enemies blog

February 19, 2006

i feel like howl from howls moving castle embodies every single feeling that goes through my head.

that is all. i am in the lobby of a hotel in new york city waiting for something that isn't ever going to happen.

i am calculating all of the legs and drunken stutters. i am precise. i am a machine. i am a hot mess.

- petey

February 19, 2006

i heard fall out boy on the radio for pretty much one of the first times ever last night. it made me once again realize that 99 percent of the reason anyone will ever like this band is because patrick has the best voice on the planet. that kid is the golden ticket.

i want a girl that wont laugh at anyone elses jokes.

i want a girl i can love in hour increments.

i want all of my ex loves to love me forever.

the new video will suprise you.

pictures soon at:

www.clandestine.buzznet.com  

www.friendsorenemies.com  

February 19, 2006

we put the f.u. back in fun so ive been reading many peoples diatribes lately. about what punk rock is and how bullshit this whole scene is. about how we all need to fuck off and die. well the truth is youre so fucking brave and i am so fucking cliche. i am okay with that. but i believe in these songs and these eyes and these sweated out rooms. the words your write hurt my eyes and my back is sore from being hunched over the screen all night. you cheapen what i do by casually throwing barbed statements at my friends and fans. leave. we don't fucking need you. we dont care what you think about us. we dont need to sit in clubs and watch you excuse yourself to the bathroom every 20 minutes, just cause we know how it goes. we dont need to watch you onstage. the best songs sing themselves. ive said it since day one. this is my rushmore. this saved me. fuck you for trying to ruin it. new songs are my middle finger back to you. im sorry youre gonna have to wait awhile to hear yourself called out through the speakers. i love the way they always ask to see my room key when i walk into my hotel at night. like i do not belong. because i do not belong. i love opposition. i love the haters. i love mondays. i love accidents. i love "no more chances". i love walking through this city at night where i do not know anyone. because i do not know anyone. i love secret shows. i love coded messages. i love the way you have me figured out so much better than i have myself figured out. 

xo peterabbit

2/19/06 Q&A

question

thank you for not making craptastic videos. Will continue with the making of noncrappiful videos with this next one?

answer

well see. i think this one is gonna be a 180 degree change. i hope you like it.

question

Is the world ever going to be luck enough to get a Fueled By Ramen tour? Say with you guys, the academy is…, panic! at the disco, and days away? Or any other of the Fueled By Ramen crew?

answer

we are planning a decaydance tour for next summer possibly- tai, panic, gym class, and a couple others are all possible tourmates.

question

p33t!please give us some hints about the video?!? do you know when its going to be finished for our viewing pleasure?

answer

okay think kungfu hustle meets the lost boys meets the warriors.

2/22/06

question

Lately it seems like you, not as a band, but as a person have been undergoing a lot of minor changs, which together are seeming to make you an unrecognizable person to some. Is the Wentz we all came to know and trust really deteriorating in front of us? You guys, and your music, and your humor are a stable thing in the lives of many, and the idea that you wont be staying as we thought we knew you for even just now honestly scares the shit out of me. Are the few of us going to have to distance ourselves before we end up following and befriending something we cant even recognize, or are you still for better or worse going to be the ingenious, hilarious smartass we see you as?

answer

i dont know how to answer this question. i think if i was truly deteriorating before you i would still answer that i wasn’t because id feel nervous revealing that. at the same time i feel that i love more and more spending afternoons walking through this city by myself away from all of this nonsense. if that makes any sense. i dont really know who you know me as- i dont really know who i know myself as- i am sorry i dont have a better answer. i am as confused as you.

question

Does Patrick know that he is my Schmexy lil Lepricon?? because he really really is.

answer

wow. haha. i will be sure to pass it along.

question

I miss the old Peter , bangs , eyeliner and all . Im so sad.

answer

the old peter didn’t have any of those things. its just a hair cut. its just makeup. its just my bone structure. its just a picture. focus one evrything else there is- the words, the music, the laughs, the jokes, the connection, the sweaty haze in the room right before the last song. everything is gonna be ok. patrick, pete, joe, and andy are making a new record and a video to scare off anyone that ever thought any of us were pretty.

question

peter, youre such a dino-whore. can we expect you and the guys to be doing any skits on SNL?

answer

no

question

you and hey chris arent friends anymore. sadness. do you think this will be ever resolved and you guys will be friends again?

answer

im only answering this question so it will not be asked again: i don’t believe in bringing or speaking about situations with my friends or family online. they are the only part of my life that i guard intensely. i hope that you will respect that. what goes on with me and chris is between me and chris and i have never and will never address it online or milk it for attention.

2/24/06

question

will we be getting a pre-MTV look at the A Little Less Sixteen Candles a Little More Touch Me music video like we did with Dance,Dance? The few pics i saw reminded me of Michael Jackson for some reason.

answer

there will be more and more pictures over at www.friendsorenemies.com - im not sure if we’ll have a video preview ready in time. this thing is gonna be different. don’t expect 80s highschool movies and usher dancing -

2/26/06

question

why is pete such an asshole and patrick such a sweetheart?

answer

hahaha. true. when we were being made into a boyband by lou pearlman he was like: patrick you are gonna be the shy guy and pete you are gonna be the badboy with attitude. i cant help it. you dont argue with lou.

question

PETE YOU MAN WHORE BAND NAMES. PLEASE

answer

caps lock does not make up for not using enough words to be understood.

question

can you help me think of a new away message

answer

blinkhurleyiheartbilljoe41: “hi, i am outside breathing oxygen. the sunlight hurts my beady little eyes cause i sit in a dark room on the internet all day and night. my legs feel wobbly because i have been looking a n00ds all day. please be my friend in real life and not just on the dorkweb.”

question

I want to go to a secret show obviously, but where are we supoosed to look for these “clues”?

answer

they are all over the place. look hard: clandestine.buzznet.com - friendsorenemies.com - www.fueledbyramen.com

question

Pete, the new october fall cd is amazing. will you please tell Patrick that I think his voice is amazing in that song. his voice is always amazing, but there is just something else to his voice in Second Chances!! and now for my question… is decaydance looking at any new bands that you might sign in the near future?? Youshouldsignfictioncityyoushouldsignfictioncity!!!

answer

thank you… october fall should suprise some people i think… we are always looking for new bands. i will check them out.

question

which person from the simpsons would you most like to date??and why.:0

answer

hahaha tricky….. hmmm. marge i guess. but you know she has a BOYFRIEND.

question

Why is it that the songs do not match their titles?

answer

they do.

question

Im thinking of selling my PATD ticket, persuade me that seeing them will be worth the expenses!

answer

listen to their record. that is your persuasion. trust me.

question

Pete, Ive had a hard time talking to anyone about this, so I just thought that I could say it to you. Recently my Nan died. This has been my first experience with death in my family. Ive been distraught, but no ones really talked to me about it. I keep thinking that my mom or dad or one of my sisters will die, and Im always worrying about them. Its really driving me crazy. I dont know how to get past all this. Thanks for reading this. Your music is what has kept me going this long. x

answer

ive felt this before. its strange how the more you watch tv and the world around you- the more you think about people around you dying. it can drive you crazy. it can make you hang on too tightly. to me the only answer is to treasure the people around you. so youll never feel like you missed out. live every day.

February 28, 2006

3:50 pm (from HeyChris)

an open letter to pete wentz.

it takes a lot to make me mad. 

it takes even more to infuriate me.

so, after all this time i finally learned the truth. that it was you telling my ex girlfriend lies and secrets. despite even giving you the pass card after i caught you trying to talk dirty to her online, this is how you repay me? no wonder why you couldnt look me in the eye on the bus last summer and no wonder why you avoided me every chance you got. 

you hug me and tell me you love me then you tell lies to my girlfriend behind my back to lure her away from me? you tell her i cheat on her and then you tell me to come stay on the bus?

you are a spineless fucking sham.

i regret every second i spent defending you and your selfish ways. 

dont forget, i know you. not that shitty glammed up poser image you present to the masses to consume. the dude i knew never would have worn a fucking dinosaur shirt or sold out one of his friends. the dude i knew had heart and fucking loyalty. well lil buddy, you are fucking done.

you want to sell me out to the most important person in my life and then have the audacity to make ME think I did something wrong to not deserve your friendship? you fucking arrogant bastard. 

since we're discussing sellouts lets discuss how when kids give you presents you laugh at them and throw it straight in the trash. oh yeah, ive seen it many times. lets talk about how you talk shit about the fat girls that are your fans and mock their letters. you are fucking undeserving of every ounce of attention you've ever gotten. from every one of your calculated business moves to your "spontaneous" jumps in the crowd parts to your well rehearsed cliche lines you've been spouting for 400 shows in a row. you're boring, contrived and old. "oooh, no one loves me, its sooo hard being on magazine covers and tv shows. someone save me from me." what are you, fucking 12? go light your little candles ask yourself why no one will ever truly love you. its amazing no one has caught on to your little fucking show. you're nothing more than a shitty opportunist business man with even shittier fashion sense.

so pack up and move to whatever million dollar house you've picked out in california paid for by your lies and hypocrisy and deceit and selfishness and over medicate yourself like youve been doing for years...because guess what? no one wants you here anymore. you are not welcome. 

oh yeah, hows that straight edge tattoo doing? as well as the tattoo for your "crew" who now refer to you as a fraud and a con? stay gold dude, stay gold.

remember this each night of the tour when you play the lie, "hey chris, you were our only friend." 

downplay it all you want by saying the song is about "friends", but guess whos fucking name you're saying each and every night? mine. thats right. what a bunch of fucking phonies. sing the songs you dont even believe in anymore. fucking liar.

you know the friends i have and you know how we feel about loyalty. 

you know who im talking about and you know they're not happy either.

so dont get caught slipping and you better make damn sure you watch whos on your guest list because a plus one might come backstage to punch your fucking teeth out and tear the windpipe from your throat. 

you fucking sell out. 

oh, and next time you decide to write another song about me, do it right you fucking coward.

**********REPOST EVERYWHERE YOU CAN**************** 

Current Music: the promise - crush all fakes."

oh what a monster we've created.

when i am called by my manager to read a post that is burning through the internet it makes me wonder. ive never responded to rumours or shittalking online, no matter who it came from- at the same time there is nothing that makes my blood boil more than reading this- being who i am, my first instinct is to blow it off- but then i consider how anytime anything is written on the internet people believe its true- no matter what, no matter the biases or subjectivity of the sources. my first instinct is to lash out- to say everything i think about you and every situation- to defend myself and attack you. as unbelievable as it is- i am an extremely insecure person- everytime i read something about myself negative or positive i react in probably the exact same way anyone would.

- 

but like i said- i am going to continue to do this my own way, what i consider to be the higher road. i understand when we get angry we often lash out- ive done it myself on many occassions. if you want to talk to me about any of this call me on my cell phone and we can do it one on one-

i will not be responding to anything else-

however, the attacks about our fans and the people that listen to this music and read these words is completely offbase- the fans of this band are my entire life- ive lost my girlfriend, my friends, much of my "normal" life- just to keep this relationship going- this isn't to say that i dont make mistakes, take misteps. just because youve seen me on tv or at a show doesn't make me anything less or more than human. you dont ever see the other side of the way we agonize over every decision we make or try our best to please everyone- because we've given up in bands before and we know how it feels and we dont want that to happen. everyone in the band is upset about this- remember everyone that makes up fall out boy- they all wanted me to voice that we appreciate our fans and friends that weve met more than anything- and that we realize because of where we are all the arrows are pointed at us- but we will try our best. and we do try our best. we also, have far more faith in the intelligence and dedication of the people that believe in us to think that they will be swayed easily. if you want to hear other stories of how we actually talk about our fans or think of them please ask other bands, they will testify to how we really act. we just want you to know that in four years when noone cares, we still hope you are there. im not going to freak out or whatever, but please an attack on our fans or our relationship with them as a p.r. move is uncalled for.

this doesn't need to be reposted anywhere- i am sure that fob fans know where to find it.

chris if you want to talk the phone line is there.

i wrote this pretty fast so i apologize for the typos and run-ons.

until then, thank you to everyone who reserves judgment and has my back until the end of time.

- petey

2/28/06 Q&A

question

IM JUST DYING TO KNOW, WHEN IS “RAINY DAY KIDS” COMING OUT?

answer

ive pushed it back. ill be honest alot of the writing in there was halfassed. words are really the only thing i care about so i want them to be perfect. i will try and figure out a release date and when we do, i will post it. i apologize. i dont want to put out some shitty book.

question

pete i am 13 and have been single my whole life should i stay that way? love ya ~Devon~

answer

its definitely ok to be single when you are 13. you have many years to get in trouble later on. when i was 13 i was into fireworks and skateboarding. girls were not even on my radar.

[watchmegetobsessed]

ALL IS FAIR

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

pairing: ceo!Harry x ceo!plussize!reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 16.7k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Says who?” Harry huffs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just, uhh—Just two water, please.”

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

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

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

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

Please don’t say your boyfriend, please!

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

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

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

“Really? Happy birthday then!”

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

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

“Congrats then!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh come on, don’t be a pussy!”

“I’m not a pussy, I just—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s just my luck…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? Why? What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unfortunately, soon comes the painful part.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s happening?”

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

“What? Where are you going now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, you know. All is fair in… war and business,” he shrugs and you honestly barely can stop yourself from laughing at how stupid that just sounded. You can’t miss the twitch in the corner of his mouth as well and you can’t believe how easily he made you break out of your rage.

“Don’t try to make money out of writing slogans,” you huff shaking your head and now he is grinning widely. “Do you have the data?”

“I don’t,” he answers and you narrow your eyes at him.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” he chuckles. “I had it, but I already deleted it. I know it wasn’t ethical so as soon as it was handed to me I deleted it. I didn’t even look into it. I just wanted to scare you.”

“And how do I know your hacker doesn’t have it either?”

“Because he signed a contract that would cost him millions to break and I don’t think a junior in college who is still living in a dorm can afford that,” he points out and now you are somewhat convinced. You stare back at him for a few more seconds before nodding.

“Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours, how does that sound?” you offer generously.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he questions with a smug smirk that makes your arch an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing tomorrow evening?” he then asks and you can’t mask your surprise in front of him.

“That does not concern you, Styles,” you scoff, though it boosts your ego that even through all the hate you’ve been targeting at each other, he still wants you the same way he did at the club that evening. You can’t deny, this rivalry has sparked a few thoughts in you as well, but you are not going to fall into the same mistake you made that evening. You pay him another smirk before turning around and heading towards the door. “Stay out of my way, Styles!” you call back without looking at him, but you just know he is grinning at you, a growing sexual tension thickening the atmosphere in the room.

“Or what?” he smugly questions and you stop at the door, glancing back at him over your shoulder.

“Or… You said it yourself. All is fair in war and business,” you smirk before walking out of the office.

Following your visit to Harry’s office things take a… playful turn in your rivalry. The attempts and competing don’t stop, both of you are on each other’s radar, ruining and messing with each other’s projects and works whenever and wherever it’s possible, but it’s not as hateful as it was at the beginning. If something, it even helps you to always be on your toes and watch out for possible threats, not just from Harry but from everyone else.

Neither of you succeeds in evolving in each other’s field, Cometa keeps thriving in women’s fashion with a quite small variety offered for the gentlemen while Twisted fails to grow out of men’s fashion and venture to the ladies, but somehow it’s not as frustrating as it used to be before.

Harry keeps up his flirty acts and tries to ask you out every time your paths cross each other, but you relentlessly turn him down every time, only fueling him to keep chasing after you more the next time. It’s a thrilling and flattering little game, knowing that even with all the rivalry between the two of you, being the biggest competitors in the business… he still wants you.

New York fashion week rolls around and it’s by far one of your favorite times in the year. You managed to snatch an exclusive deal with YSL to release a special line just for the fashion week and it sold out in the first two hours, now waiting to be restocked in a few days. Cometa is thriving and your aunt has expressed her pride towards the work you’ve been doing at the company, so things are heading the right direction.

You knew Harry would be attending the same shows as you, but it’s fate or just luck that you are seated next to each other at one of the shows, giving you the chance to talk without any of you attempting to corrupt the other this time.

Harry is already sitting in his seat when you arrive wearing a custom made Gucci dress, something that immediately catches his eyes since he is a huge fan of the brand himself.

“Your fashion sense never disappoints, Y/N,” he beams up at you as you take the seat next to him.

“Hope that’s not surprising, Styles,” You smirk at him, taking a glance at his own Gucci outfit, the checkered pants fitting him perfectly while the pussy bow adds some spice to the whole outfit, you have to admit. He looks good, he always does.

“Any plans after the show?” he asks right before the lights go out and the show starts. You leave him without an answer, just let out a soft chuckle as you glue your eyes to the first model who walks the runway.

Once the show is over you head out with Harry by your side, having an actually entertaining discussion about the designs you just saw. He might not be an expert in fashion, but he has developed a good sense through his years.

As you make your way out of the venue you are stopped by an interviewer and Harry remains on your side as the woman asks you a few questions about the show.

“I’ve always wondered, does it bother you that you couldn’t be on the runway yourself? You’ve been sitting front row the past years, but you once had aspirations of being a model yourself, is that right?”

The question makes you tense up and you can feel Harry’s puzzled look on you from the side.

“It’s not like it was my fault for not making it up there,” you sass back, forcing a smile to your face.

“Well, that’s not entirely true,” the woman chuckles and it has your blood boiling, because you know the real meaning behind her words.

It’s your fault you didn’t become a model because you were never thin enough to be one. It was your fault and not the industry’s to hold impossible standards to women who wanted to succeed as a model.

The smile falters from your face and you take a long, judgmental look at the woman in front of you. Because if she is brave enough to talk like that to you, you’re not gonna shy away from bringing her spirits down either.

“Judging from your appearance and attitude you wouldn’t make it either,” you spitefully reply and her smile quickly fades, clearly shocked at your answer. You open your mouth again, ready to continue, but then you feel a hand on the small of your back and you realize Harry is still standing next to you.

“Come on, we have somewhere to be, right?” he smiles kindly as you just simply nod and walk away from the woman before she could offend you again.

Harry senses your tension as the two of you leave the venue but doesn’t try to talk to you and that’s a wise choice from him. As you step out of the building you realize that if you went home now you’d probably get drunk on your own and let that comment get to you more than you should. So instead of doing that you turn to Harry.

“So, what are our plans?” you ask and you don’t miss the small smile on his lips as he stares back at you.

Not in the mood to stay around people at a bar you accept Harry’s invitation to his place, since it’s also close. The contrast between his extravagant penthouse and your cozy but still quite modern townhouse in Park Slope is major, but you didn’t expect anything less from the man.

You’ve managed to calm down since you left the venue, but you’re still quite bitter about the comment the woman made. Harry hasn’t tried to ask you about it, but you can tell he is dying to know more about the situation that’s behind the madness.

He fixes you a drink and you find yourself sinking into his comfortable and probably ridiculously expensive couch in his living room area.

“I used to want to be a model,” you start, breaking the silence that settled between the two of you. “When I was a teen. I was a lot thinner, I was a competitive dancer until I was seventeen, but I had a knee injury, so I had to quit.”

Harry sits on the other end of the couch, listening to you with patience as he sips on his own drink.

“I was never as thin as the other models at the agency I was trying to get into, but I definitely wasn’t overweight. Yet, they labelled me as a plus size model. I was a healthy, strong young girl with a perfectly good body, yet they told me that I was too fat to be a model.”

Glancing at Harry, you can tell that he is surprised at the information he just learned. He is probably picturing you thinner now, going to model castings and if you’re being honest you enjoyed that part. The trouble came when you got rejection after rejection, telling you to lose weight and come back after that.

“I quit my whole plan to be a model and studied fashion and business instead, consciously working my way towards this point. But I never got over how the industry made me feel less of a person because I wasn’t a size zero.”

For a few long moments Harry just stares at you and it’s actually nice that he doesn’t try to make you feel better right away, praising you how you are perfect just the way you are. Because you’re not, but that’s fine because no one is.

“I’ve honestly never seen a more cruel industry than fashion before,” he then speaks up. “I didn’t grow up in it and still don’t really have that much and deep connection with it, but I know how fucked up it is. And it’s nice to see that you know your worth even after everything that happened.”

Your gaze meets his and you’re looking for any sign that gives away that he is just messing with you, but it’s all genuine. You just shoot him a small smile before lifting your drink to your lips. It’s the most intimate moment you’ve shared with him, including the ones you had in that bathroom.

“Okay, now you tell me something about your life,” you prompt, wanting to divert the conversation on him a little bit.

“What do you want to know?” he asks with a soft chuckle.

“Why did you name your brand Twisted?” you ask. The question has been on your mind for a while.

“It’s coming from my mum’s name. Anne Twist.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, you weren’t expecting such a deep and personal reason behind the name, connected to a family member.

“Why her?”

“Why not?” he smirks shrugging his shoulders. “She raised me and my sister up, I wouldn’t be here without her. It was obvious I would make her be part of it in some kind of way.”

“That’s actually very nice. Who knew that you could be something other than an egoistic asshole!” you joke, making him laugh as well.

“Okay, what’s the meaning behind your brand?” he then turns it back around.

“Well, my aunt met her husband when they were very young, maybe eighteen. She fell in love with Fabio on her trip to Italy and being the impulsive and adventurous woman that she is, she stayed for a month there just because of Fabio. He is a very passionate man and he was always ready to bring the stars down for Julia. He always used to tell her that he would even catch a comet for her, if that’s what she wanted. And that was my aunt’s favorite saying from him. Cometa is comet in Italian. It’s her tribute to the love of her life.”

“That’s easily the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” Harry hums and you just smile nodding at him. It really is like a fairytale and it’s also one of the reasons why you were so happy to take her place at Cometa. Julia is still just as in love with Fabio as she was at eighteen and she deserves to spend more time with her beloved husband. She earned the time off after all the sacrifices she made for the company and all through them Fabio stayed by her side. It’s their well-earned happy ending now.

“You know a lot about romantic things?” you cock an eyebrow at him, finishing up your drink.

“Actually, I’m a quite romantic guy.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah, you just never gave me the chance to show it to you.”

“Oh, so now I’m the bad guy?” you chuckle, handing him your glass when he stands from the couch to get you a refill.

“Exactly!” he chuckles holding up your empty glass on his way. “I hope you know you absolutely broke my heart when you didn’t give me your number that night.”

“Oh, you poor little thing,” you chuckle, resting your head in your palm, your elbow on the back of the couch. “I’m not sorry though. You didn’t give out the right vibes.”

“The right vibes?” he huffs as he returns with your drink and now sits a little closer to you. “What vibe did I give you?” “The vibe that told me I shouldn’t mess with you,” you simply answer as you take a sip from your refilled drink.

“You were so keen on hating me even before you knew who I was, I can’t believe you,” he chuckles shaking his head.

“I’m just cautious!” you protest. “I’ve dealt with some problematic men in the past, I can’t let myself walk right into another one that easily.”

“What did they do?”

“Some men just can’t treat women right. Especially confident ones with a body like mine,” you simply shrug.

Men like to think that bigger girls are so terribly insecure about their body that they need the validation of a male to feel good about themselves. But when you’re confident and feel good in your own skin without needing them to praise you, they think that you’re egoistic, so full of yourself and they are quick to try to drag you down. That’s something you can’t tolerate. You don’t need a man to feel good about yourself, you don’t need anyone for that. You know your worth and that’s all that matters.

Harry’s eyes travel down your body, taking his time on your curves and you smile shaking your head as you reach out and cupping his chin you pull his head up so he is looking into your eyes.

“I honestly can’t see what problem anyone could have with your body. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since our bathroom fiasco,” he bluntly comments making you chuckle, even flattered by his words.

“You are such a flirt,” you grin at him and he doesn’t try to protest.

You stay for a couple more drinks and you drop the heavier topics, venturing over to music, fashion and any funny stories that come to your mind. Harry is actually amazing company when you’re not trying to jump at each other’s throat and for a few short hours you forget that he is supposed to be your competitor.

You’re a little tipsy, but you are definitely not drunk, so when Harry offers you to stay the night you turn it down, calling yourself a car since you are not in the right state to drive.

“I’ll come and pick my car up in the morning,” you breathe out as you put your heels back on that came off your feet sometime during the evening, making yourself home in his place.

“I’ll text you the security number to the garage,” he nods, walking you to the elevator.

“Thank you. And… I guess thank you for the evening,” you smile at him, turning to face him. He is standing close, but still takes a step closer, one of his hands finding your waist as he pulls you against his chest. Your palms lie flat on his chest as you try to get yourself to the right mindset to leave now before you regret doing something. Leaning down his nose nudges against your cheek, before he presses a soft kiss under below your ear, a sigh escaping your lips.

“I should go, the car is here,” you breathe out, but don’t move.

“Mm, okay,” he hums, his lips peppering kisses on your jaw and your cheek, as if you didn’t say a word. You want to continue it, not just because of the alcohol but because the sexual tension between the two of you has been growing since that charity gala, but the remainder of your rationality stops you before your lips could meet.

“Bye Harry,” you smile at him softly as you push him away and you walk into the elevator, leaving him hanging. Again.

“Bye Y/N. I’m still going to try to ruin your company!” he calls after you as you turn around to face him, the sliding doors slowly closing between the two of you.

“Same back at you, Styles,” you smirk before the door closes and you are taken down.

Well, that was a lie. Following your evening at his place neither of you really tries to work against the other, leaving each other be without any fuss. It might also have something to do with how you kept in touch after that day. You’ve been texting occasionally, attending some events together, even had a business dinner together with a few other peers from the industry. Things have been quiet and you’ve been feeling content with the current state you’ve managed to reach. Or so you thought.

It was a silent agreement between the two of you. You both put your projects aside that targeted the other’s profile. Harry stopped looking for designers for his women lines and you put your men department to the side as well. There were a lot to work on beside these fields so you felt like you were in peace. Right until Leslie bursts into your office on a casual Tuesday.

“Have you seen this?” she asks, placing a tablet in front of you with an Instagram account open on it.

You want to ask what you’re supposed to look at, but then you realize what it really is. A shiny new account for a new brand that promises to take online shopping to the next level; female and male as well.

“You think it could be…?” you ask, not quite convinced that Harry is behind this.

“Well, the wording is similar to theirs and creating a new brand might be a solution to their gap in women’s fashion,” she points it out, though you don’t want to believe he could have been working on this all along, basically in front of your face.

But it’s a possibility and you have to consider this option before jumping into defending him without any proof.

“Men can’t be trusted,” you grumble under your breath before jumping into work.

What you didn’t know is that an eerily similar situation goes down in Harry’s office as well when Zayn bursts in, showing him the ad he found for the new brand called Farfalla.

Harry immediately digs up everything about the company, though there’s not much other than their new Instagram account and heavy marketing that started just yesterday.

“What is Farfalla even?” he grimaces leaning back in his chair.

“It means butterfly in Italian,” Zayn explains and Harry’s eyes flicker up to him.

“Italian? You think it’s her?”

“It’s possible,” Zayn nods. “Starting a new brand to finally reach men’s fashion is a good idea.”

“She wouldn’t have done this,” Harry shakes his head in disbelief. Could you be working on this all along? Was this your plan from the start? To make him fall for you and forget about business while you built up your new empire to ruin him?

“What if she did?” Zayn prompts and in a way his suspicion is valid, but Harry is having a hard time believing it. You would never play him this dirty, not after how the two of you have grown closer in the past weeks, almost became friends.

“What are you going to do?” Zayn asks him as he pushes himself away from the desk and quite obviously starts getting ready to leave.

“She is not getting away from this,” Harry mumbles under his breath as he grabs his coat and phone before storming out of the office.

It’s past six when Harry gets to Cometa’s building and he is informed that you’ve already went home. He could have just come back in the morning, but he knew he would just stew in his own anger if he didn’t talk to you as soon as possible. So using his charm he gets the woman sitting behind the front desk to share your address with him, saying that he needs to talk to you urgently. That’s how he finds himself heading to Park Slope, slightly surprised you are not living somewhere in the heart of Manhattan.

As the scenery around his changes, skyscrapers turning into brick buildings and townhouses, Harry tries to figure out what he even wants to say to you. Should he just get straight down to business and accuse you? Snap at you? Or should he give you the chance to explain yourself? He can’t really make up his mind, mostly because he still feels like you betrayed him even though he can’t be sure Farfalla is yours.

Parking down at the address he got from the woman, he stares up at the deep red brick townhouse, a simple, black door at the top of the stairs that’s lined with a few potted plants and flowers. This is not what he would have imagined your home like, but now that he is standing on your doormat, he realizes it kind of suits you.

Ringing the bell he hopes that you’re home and not out and about somewhere in the city, but when he hears the familiar sound of heels clicking on the floor he knows you are on the other side. When the front door flings open and you come into his sight, for a split second he forgets why he is here and his anger vanishes. As always, you look amazing, a tight, black dress hugging your curves, the middle part appearing like it’s a corset, emphasizing the dip of your waist. Your hair is let down in loose curls and your feet are bare, but he knows you probably wore heels all day. You must have gotten home not long ago and as your eyes fall on the man at the door, your expression hardens on him.

“You really had the balls to come her, huh?” you cock your head to the side, keeping your eyes on his green ones for a moment before you let him inside.

“Did you think you could get away with it?” he huffs walking into the hallway and stopping as you close the door and turn to him.

“Me? I could say the same! You thought I would just ignore it or what? I proved you a few times that I’m not stupid, Harry,” you retort, folding your arms on your chest as you walk past him, into the kitchen and he follows.

“You surely are not stupid, playing me so dirty behind my back!” Harry spats standing his ground. “Playing all friendly and nice and then make a fool out of me!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you question narrowing your eyes at him as you lean against the kitchen island’s counter. “If anyone played dirty it’s you! And you have the balls to come here and talk like this to me in my own fucking home?!” you snap, walking closer to him, keeping your deathly glare on him.

“What the fuck did I do?!” he scoffs throwing his hands into the air.

“You created a whole new brand just to fuck with me! Or did you think I wouldn’t find out about it?!”

“Me? You made a new brand! And you didn’t do a great job hiding the fact that it was your work, even the name is Italian, like your current one!”

You stare back at him, tilting your head to the side as you process what he is talking about. All along, the two of you were accusing each other of something neither of you did.

“Harry,” you breathe out, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Farfalla is not my brand.”

“And I’m supposed to believe it?!”

“Well you better be because it’s the fucking truth!”

“Prove it!” he hisses at you, taking a step closer, his face only inches away from yours now.

“Until about twenty seconds ago I thought that it was your new brand, Harry. I thought that you were the one who backstabbed me!” you snap back, standing up for yourself in this giant misunderstanding you fell into, accusing each other without any proof.

Harry stares back at you, his gaze burning into yours as he stands his ground and you can almost see the gears turning in his head as he processes your words.

“So… it’s not yours? You didn’t do it to fuck me up?”

“Of course not!” you breathe out, suddenly quite tired of all the anger that’s been eating you away through the afternoon. “I thought that we had a kind of silent agreement not to mess with each other so I wasn’t planning anything anytime soon. That’s why I got so mad when I thought you did it!”

“I thought the same!” he growls shaking his head. “I thought you did it all to just make me look stupid, that the friendly act was just so I wouldn’t notice a thing and I fell right into your trap.”

“There was no trap,” you simply tell him and you hope he senses the hidden meaning behind your words.

Luckily he does. But for your biggest surprise there’s no snarky comment or smug smirking, he just steps closer and before you could even protest, his hands find your waist and he pulls you against his hard chest, lips hungry attacking yours. He makes you back until you bump against the kitchen island, his hips pressing against yours as he pushes you against the hard surface, his hands wandering on your sides and back, up and down, exploring every curve of your body while his kisses never slow down, your tongues meeting in the middle.

Bringing up a leg you curl it around his hips, your heel digging into his round ass as he leans forward, making you arch your back, leaning onto the counter as his lips move from your lips to your jawline and neck, his fingers digging into your waist and the thigh that’s lifted by his side. He nibbles on the soft skin of your neck, definitely leaving a mark, but you just comb your fingers through his hair, letting yourself get lost in the sensation.

“As much as I would love to fuck you on a counter again, can we take this to a bedroom?” he mumbles as he kisses his way back up to your lips, smirking against them as he captures them again.

You don’t answer, just grab his hand and pull him upstairs with you, right into your bedroom. He is all over you, lips, hands, tongue, pressed up against you as the two of you stumble your way to your king sized bed. Harry’s fingers fidget with the corset on your dress, but he soon realizes it’s a little trickier than he expected, so leaning back he furrows his eyebrows as he glances down at the dress, still trying to figure out how to get you out of it.

“Harry,” you smile at him softly. “It’s faux. There’s a zipper at the back,” you inform him and he sighs in defeat as he kisses you again, his fingers quickly finding the zipper. The dress pools at your feet and you rid him from his jacket and shirt, revealing his inked chest, a sight you’ve been thinking about way too much lately.

By the time the two of you fall to your bed, neither of you are dressed in more than just your underwear. Because both of you like to be in charge, you roll around for a while, trying to get on top of each other but eventually Harry stays up when he starts going down on you, kissing his way through your heated skin. You don’t shy away when his hands snake under your back and easily unclasps your bra, being bare in front of him is not something that makes you feel uncomfortable or insecure. The way he looks at you, the way he makes you feel brings you so much confidence, you have absolutely no problem being nude.

When your bra flies to the floor, Harry leans back a little to admire you lying there, before his lips find their way over the curve of your breasts, down your stomach. Hooking his fingers into the elastic of your panties he tugs them down easily as you lift your hips, your thighs parting as you bare yourself in front of him.

“Don’t be shy about screaming my name,” he smugly tells you before his lips and tongue meet your clit. Your fingers lace through his hair immediately as you gasp out at the sensation, his tongue drawing the whole fucking alphabet to your bundle of nerves. His arms curl around your thighs, ring clad fingers digging into your flesh as he sucks on the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Harry! Yes!” you moan out, tugging on his locks when he teases his tongue around your hole, your walls tightening around nothing as you are growing desperate to feel something inside of you.

You pull on his hair, signaling him that you want to get it on with, Hands reaching down to get rid of his boxer briefs before you blindly pull out the drawer of your nightstand, grabbing a condom. His lips eagerly meet yours as he wraps his erected cock and though you would love to have a taste of him like he did with you, you just want to feel him inside you.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he growls against your lips, teasing you with running just the head up and down your slit.

“If you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna rip your guts out,” you warn him, earning a soft chuckle as he kisses you again, tongue pushing into your mouth as he finally pushes inside you, his long, thick cock filling you up perfectly and it somehow feels even better than the first time.

“Go hard,” you gasp, a hand coming to grab his ass as you push him even further into you. He doesn’t need more, he starts slamming into you, his hips meeting yours roughly with each thrust, his whole length disappearing inside you every time.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck, licking and sucking on the soft skin. You almost think about telling him not to mark you, but it just turns you on even more so you let him do whatever he wants.

“I want to see you on top,” he pants, lifting his head so his gaze could meet yours. You nod, before the two of you turn around and you straddle his hips, guiding him back inside you as you sink down his length. Your hands are sprawled out on his hard chest as you find your balance in the position, Harry’s eyes roaming your body up and down, not able to get enough of how blissful you look, sitting with his cock buried inside of you, enjoying yourself to the fullest. His hands run up your thighs and upper body until they find your breasts, kneading them as you start moving your hips up and down, back and forth. When you moan his name or gasp because his cock reaches that one particular spot inside you, those are the moments he wishes he could capture on camera and watch whenever he wants.

“I want it from back,” you pant as you lean down and kiss him roughly. That’s all he needs, he helps you get off of him before you get on all four, pushing your butt up in the air while Harry kneels behind you, the sight in front of him hardening his cock even more, if that’s possible. His hands grab onto your waist as he pushes inside you, making you both let out a satisfied moan before he starts moving again.

“Fuck, you look so good like this, Y/N. I love your ass,” he growls, giving it a smack that surprises you, but you absolutely love it.

“Harry, go faster!” you whimper, feeling your orgasm nearing as you grip the comforter on the bed, desperate to reach your climax. You’re just about to reach down between your legs to play with your clit when Harry not only picks his pace up but also reaches around you, two of his fingers starting the circling motions on the bundle of nerves, making your legs shake from the pleasure.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me, cum all over my cock,” he growls, railing you from behind without missing a beat.

“Harry!” you scream when he thrusts into you so harshly, your whole body rocking in the motion.

“Come on, angel. Cum for me,” he murmurs and leaning down he wraps his arms around you, bringing you up straight, your back pressing against his sweaty chest, his hands coming to cup your breasts as he keeps thrusting up into you, pushing you over the edge.

You moan and gasp and scream his name as your walls tighten around his length, riding out your bliss and it helps him reach his own high, his hot breath hitting the back of your neck and shoulder, grunting and cursing under his breath as he fills the condom.

As his thrusts come to a halt, he sinks into a sitting position, bringing you with him, you lean against him feeling like jelly as you’re still just trying to catch your breath. Harry peppers your shoulder with small kisses before you muster the energy to break the position and lie down on the bed.

“Towel is in the bathroom,” you tell him knowing that’s what he’ll look for as he stands from the bed and you point at the door that leads to the joined bathroom. Harry nods and pads his way in there, cleaning himself up before he returns with a small damp towel, doing the same for you. He drops it to the floor next to the bed before joining you, cradling you into his arms as you take a breather together.

One hand is on your shoulder, fingers dancing on the naked skin, the other one is holding your thigh that’s across his lap while your head is resting on his chest.

“You really thought I would backstab you like that?” he hums after a while, breaking the comfortable silence.

“You did the same,” you answer, lifting your head, resting your chin on his chest.

“Touché,” he chuckles, before leaning down he kisses you shortly. “So, if neither of us did it, then we have a quite major problem on our hands.”

“I know,” you hum. “That shit looks promising and they can easily ruin both of us.”

Harry stays silent for a little, but you can see the gears turning in his head. When his gaze snaps back at you, you know he has an idea.

“Unless… we join forces.” Your eyebrows arch as you stare back at him. “I know it’s a risky move, but this is the only way to stay on the top.”

“How much you want to be joined?”

“We could start with just one line, the men part designed by someone from me and the women by someone from you. And if it presents well we can just figure out where to go from there. Obviously, the men part would be sold by us and the women by you, but we could join the pages and direct users to each other’s sites in connection with the lines.”

“That could… actually work,” you nod shortly, thinking about the idea. It needs a lot of planning, but it could actually be a big hit if you do it right. “And you’re willing to partner with me?” you ask cheekily as you push yourself up into a sitting position, Harry doing the same.

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m willing to do about anything with you,” he chuckles, making you smile at his playful answer. “I hope you know I’m not talking about just business,” he then adds with a meaningful look.

“You are still so keen on this?” you sigh, tugging your hair behind your ear.

“Do you not like being with me?”

“I do, surprisingly,” you roll your eyes, making him laugh.

“Do you not like having sex with me?”

“I think the answer is pretty obvious to that,” you give him a look as he smirks back at you.

“Yeah, but I want to hear it.”

“I enjoy having sex with you, Harry,” you roll your eyes again, but he just kisses you short but hard before leaning back.

“So then why shouldn’t we date?”

“Because we are competitors?”

“We just agreed that we should join forces. We are partners now.”

“You are running a little ahead, Harry,” you cock an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know, I haven’t been in a relationship in ages. I probably suck at it at this point,” you shrug, but it’s just a lame excuse and you both know that. Leaning closer Harry smirks at you smugly.

“I have something else you can suck.” You smack his chest at his nasty remark, but can’t push a smile back. His hand finds the back of your head as he pulls you in for another kiss. “I want you, Y/N. I really do. You are all I think about even when you are an annoying piece of shit, getting under my skin. I still want you.”

“Wow, so romantic,” you chuckle shaking your head. “What if we can’t get over our differences in the business? That can easily poison any relationship.”

“Then we’ll have a lot of mind-blowing angry and makeup sex. Those are the best. We can put all our frustration into sex, I think that’s just perfect.”

“What are you, a horny teenager? Sex is all you can think about?” you chuckle.

“It is when I’m lying in a bed with you naked. You can’t blame me,” he grins smugly and you want to hate him, you want to hate him so badly, but you can’t. You want him just as much as he wants you.

“So… partners?” he prompts, tilting his head to the side with a sweet smile as he waits for your answer.

“Partners in business and life?”

“Mhm, that’s the plan,” he nods, his smile growing wider with each passing second.

“Alright,” you breathe out. “So… it’s not—All is fair in war and business?” you ask teasingly, using his own words from earlier.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he laughs, pulling you in for another kiss.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

[tvstarkuma-a]

I posted 1,258 times in 2022

That's 1,258 more posts than 2021!

511 posts created (41%)

747 posts reblogged (59%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@bishonenprince

@tacitusauxilium

@oraclememehacker

@eris-the-phantom-thief

@aeniqmata

I tagged 1,128 of my posts in 2022

Only 10% of my posts had no tags

#like a queue come true - 307 posts

#out-of-bear-suit - 167 posts

#v: not alone anymore - 133 posts

#teddie answers - 120 posts

#bearutiful self - 57 posts

#promo~ - 55 posts

#teddie musings - 54 posts

#anonymous - 53 posts

#v: a home to protect - 36 posts

#headcanons - 34 posts

Longest Tag: 133 characters

#((i'm imagining teddie mopping himself into a corner and being unable to leave since he doesn't want to step on the wet floor he made

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

@tacitusauxilium​

Last Golden Week was one Teddie wasn’t soon to forget. Sure, there was another supernatural case and a fight to save the world, but that wasn’t important right now. What mattered is that Teddie got lots of new friends! The Shadow Operatives were filled with so many elegant yet kind people. There’s sexy Mit-chan, non-human Persona-users like him Ai-chan and Labby-chan, beautiful Yuka-chan, gentle Fuu-chan, the half-naked Akky, and the rest of the team. By the time everyone left, the poor bear already felt a bit of loneliness creep in. Sensei going back to the city didn’t help either. Oh well, these feelings are all a part of life, too. 

“Maybe I should go to Okina today...?” He mumbled to himself, “No! Only sad, lonely people go to the movies alone!” His head shook at its own suggestion. 

On days that Teddie didn’t have any shifts at Junes and his friends were at school, he tended to wander around town a bit until something caught his eye. If he’s lucky, one of the nice housewives stop him for food and gossip. What a kind group of ladies! 

“Hmm?” Something different caught Teddie’s attention. It was a white dress that wasn’t anything like the girls in the team wore. Wait! Could it be?! 

“FUU-CHAN!” It was difficult to ignore the screams of a running bear. 

24 notes - Posted July 4, 2022

#4

@bishonenprince​

“Hey! I remember you from Junes!” A small blue bear with a red and white outfit of some kind has run up to Sora. There was something familiar about this bear’s energy and mannerisms. In fact, that high-pitched voice was a bit similar to a certain blonde retail worker. 

“How are you enjoying the town of Inaba so far? You said you were new, right?” He walked a half circle around Sora before finally staying stationary for now. Yup, Teddie has confirmed that this brunette still had that odd yet cool sense of fashion. 

24 notes - Posted July 8, 2022

#3

You all know the drill by now, so let’s cut to the chase! Please like this post to give me permission to do the following: 

Send unprompted asks to your muse(s)

Write random starters (both prompted and unprompted and of varying lengths)

Tag your muse(s) for dash games and stuff that reminds me of them

Jump into your IM’s for plotting/shipping/HC’s 

Mention your muse(s) in other threads 

And more! 

24 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

#2

☆ Independent RP blog for Teddie from Persona 4 

☆ Low to Medium Activity 

☆ Crossover & OC friendly 

About // Rules // Verses // Interest Checker // Permanent Starter Call

Promo credit: @softmortem

38 notes - Posted August 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I noticed that there's a terrible lack of bears on your dash so let's fix that, shall we?

Please reblog/like if you're interested in interacting with Teddie from Persona 4. Crossovers and OC's are bear-y welcome. I have a full-time job so there will be spots of low-activity, but I still love this character with all my heart. I've been here since 2012 and I'm glad to be back for more!

40 notes - Posted July 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[what-the-water-gaveme]

trigger warning: sexual assault

2am, staring at my Google search bar, furiously typing and retyping and retyping and retyping my question: “can a thin man rape a fat woman”

anxiously, i awaited the results. would my fears be confirmed or denied? would i find comfort and solidarity in the vast world of the internet, or would the answer to my question be what i feared?

I met him in the fall of 2020. I moved to the greater Philadelphia area from rural Ohio to pursue graduate school, a move I was often applauded for due to the pandemic. I was excited by the prospect of dating in a big city. I had never really had much luck with dating in the past, and I mainly attributed it to being in Ohio.

Hinge seemed like a promising option. I rarely ever liked other people’s profiles, mainly due to a lack of confidence and a mixture of anxiety and self-doubt.

A notification! “___” liked your response. I remember exactly what our first conversation was about. For the next few days we chatted about everything from favorite cocktails, what books we were currently reading, and what we had been doing since the beginning of the pandemic.

He was nice. He was kind, cool, and whip-smart. For the most part, I really did want to possibly pursue something. My self-doubt and insecurities came to surface though and I dodged hanging out with him at every opportunity. His suggestions were always met with an excuse on my end.

For context, I am fat. I’ve been fat for over half of my life. I was a slim child, but around age 8 or 9 I begin to fill out overwhelmingly. My mom met this with panic, encouraging me to lose weight with incentives such as toys, trips, and games. She even went as far as putting me on Weight Watchers at the ripe age of 10. None of this is to take a jab at my mom. She did what she knew, and I love my mother.

My whole life has been a constant struggle to accept and appreciate my body. My strong, yet soft body that houses and protects and feels. I was taught that loving my body was wrong. I should hate it and want to completely change it. And I did, and sometimes, I still do.

Dating as a fat person is, for a lack of a better word, hard. It’s a constant worry about if you’re going to be rejected, ridiculed, fetishized, or even in some cases (like mine), harmed. The trope of the secret fat girlfriend is one I know like the back of my hand. Good enough to fuck, but not to date. It’s happened countless times to me, and to many other fat people I know. A secret shame men face around the idea of being attracted to a fat woman.

I often feel like I have to prove that I can be sexual, that I can be satisfying. Every sexual encounter I have, I feel shame surrounding the way I look naked. “I am not worthy, I am not worthy, I am not worthy.” I definitely believed that. Sometimes I still do.

He seemed interested, even after I gave the “Im not skinny” spiel that every fat woman knows all too well. Months passed by, and we would intermittently talk. A few months later in November of 2020, we briefly discussed BDSM. I was 22 and did not know the slightest thing about principles of BDSM. Looking back now, what he was suggesting was straight up abuse. I asked him if this was something he did often. He responded, “I only have this kind of sex with fat women.” I was disturbed, but admittedly, I was also intrigued. I asked why. He said, “They have low self-esteem, so they let me.

I should’ve ran then. But he was so conventionally attractive, Ivy League educated (which I am learning means absolutely nothing), and he seemed to align with me politically. He was right though, I had low self-esteem, so I let him.

The first time wasn’t that bad. Some light punching to the face, hitting me with a belt on my backside; nothing i couldn’t handle. The sex felt good. I felt satisfied.

A whole year passed before I saw him again. It was November of 2021. He had moved out of the state by then to pursue a job elsewhere, but was in town to visit family. A testament to my own insecurities, I reached out to him.

I have a lot of anxiety surrounding sex. I am now a 3 time survivor of sexual assault, which complicates intimacy in so many ways for me, as I’m sure it does for many other survivors. At that point, I had been feeling so lonely that I felt myself wanting to have another sexual encounter of the like with him. I think, in this case, my need to already be familiar with my sexual partners played a key role.

He had expressed unbridled interest in consensual non-consensual sex play. I questioned if I was genuinely interested in it, as I had a lot of concern surrounding the logistics and credibility of this “kink.” I entertained the idea but ultimately, I never said yes.

He haphazardly texted me that he was in the area and I needed to make up my mind if I wanted to see him or not. I said yes, because I thought this encounter would be similar to the last.

“Here.”

I walked to the door to let him into my complex. Some pleasantries were exchanged, but as soon as we walked into my apartment and I shut the door behind me, he punched me in the face.

I was shocked and sort of chuckled as a reaction. He hit me again. At this point, I am thinking to myself, “What the fuck am I going to do?” He gestures to the direction of the bedrooms in the back of my apartment, “Which one is yours?” I point to my bedroom and silently follow him in.

I knew I could handle some punches, but these were a thousand times more aggressive than the time before. He told me to take my clothes off. I did.

His biggest fantasy became my biggest nightmare. Punch after punch to my face resulted in a severe concussion and horrific bruising. Repeated kicking to my stomach resulted in excruciating abdomen pain.

I shyly whispered through tears, “Please stop. Please stop. Please stop.” He didn’t. I thought for a second that maybe I was going to die.

He was playing out his fantasy of consensual non-consensual sex play. Except it wasn’t consensual on my end. He even forced me to say (more than once), “I want you to rape me.” Threatening to hit me even harder if I didn’t.

He finished, abruptly put his clothes on, and left. I was so delusional as to what just happened, that, I too, abruptly put my clothes on and walked him out. As headed towards my door, I wryly joked, “See you around this time next year.”

I didn’t hear from him after that.

I sat on my bed and cried. I slept. I cried some more. My roommate came home from work later that night. I hid my face and said I was tired, and I’d see them in the morning.

I didn’t quite process what happened to me until the day after, which was, coincidentally, Thanksgiving. I woke up to a bruised and swollen cheek, and I told my roommate.

I had to seek medical care because I was in excruciating pain. After hours of waiting, I was finally seen, but the doctor questioned my credibility when I told him what happened. “This is why you don’t get yourself into these kinds of situations.”

I filed a police report, almost immediately regretting it. I was met with what I can only describe as complete and utter disrespect. He asked me what he looked like. I described. He asked almost mockingly, “What’s his build.” It was a statement, not even a question.

I told him an approximate guess of his height, and that he was of average build. He audibly stifled a laugh. He said, “Did you try to fight back…?” I couldn’t find a response. I sat in the exam room alone, on that bed, in a hospital gown, with a black eye and a swollen cheek in front of a police officer who had just laughed at me as I tried to recount the most traumatic event of my entire life.

He asked me a few more questions, and I explained that it had began as a BDSM encounter, but consent was never freely given in the first place and it was audibly withdrawn numerous times throughout the assault. I told him that a safe word was never established because my rapist said we didn’t need one.

I admitted that I was probably foolish to even entertain the idea of entering a BDSM encounter without a safe word, but I didn’t know much about BDSM and that I trusted him as a previously established sex partner to guide me. The police officer just sighed.

He eventually said he had all he needed and left.

I got dressed and drove myself home.

The next few days were generally a blur, and I didn’t really comprehend anything that was happening. I only told a few people, and I found myself sort of wondering why they even believed me. I was second guessing my reality; playing back every second of every moment of that encounter with him. Did it happen the way I remember?

The detective looking into my case called me the next week. He said there wasn’t anything he could do because he didn’t have any prior criminal activity and he lived in a different state. He said I could press charges, but he highly doubted that anything would come from it. I thanked him for his time.

Flash forward to seven months later. I am here. I’d be lying if I said I think about it everyday. Truthfully, I don’t. Sometimes I don’t think about it for weeks. But right now it’s all I can think about because there is now a new precedent set for survivors.

Survivors are seemingly encouraged to share what happened to them. yet, when they do, they are chastised, shamed, and called liars.

If a wealthy, blonde, thin, white woman such as Amber Heard is mocked on every single surface of the internet, what does that mean for me? Or you? Or your cousin? Or the girl you sat next to in Psych 101 your first semester of college?

I am sharing my story not because I think this is the perfect opportunity for a think piece moment, but because I can’t continue to live with it stuck inside of me anymore. I only shared the full story of what happened to me with one person. But now, I think it’s time for me to let it go.

Believe me or don’t. But next time you share an article or tweet about how Amber Heard got what she deserved, remember this. Amber Heard won’t see your post on facebook or your story on instagram or your retweet on twitter. Your friend who was raped will. And your friend who was raped will know that you mock and question and belittle the credibility of survivors.

To every survivor out there: I believe you. And I hope you believe me too.

[rayshippouuchiha]

Prompt of sorts i guess?

Read the story ‘the family you choose by TunaFishChris’ good story set in ATLA but when I finished reading it my brain threw more plot bunnies at me. Help.

Same soulmates verse but its ozai not azulon who burns zukos off, azulon does have one but its on his head covered by hair n it was for his wife so when she dies azulon goes a little mad n as this was during ozais formulation years n while iroh is away its no surprise that ozai ends up like he does. Half natural inclination n half nurture or lack there of. Sozin was soulmates with roku, loosing him n being partly responsible got rid of any sanity he still had thus war n genocide with gusto. Ozai is the only born royal with no marks n sees it as a strength, zuko gets his down his spine for his soul family always having his back n such. Ozai nearly cripples zuko getting rid of them. Lala (is easier n faster to write) gets her marks when she is with zuko, zuko is always with her, mum told him that he was a big brother n that big brothers looked after their little siblings, zuko loves his little sister, he takes her everywhere. So when her mark appear he very quickly covers them, takes them to a discreet doc in town to get cover cream for her n starts teaching her to NEVER talk about them to anyone but him, not mother not father, no one. It works the cream n the where they appear on the body mean she is not found out by ozai. This changes alot. Once azulon gets his mind back after his wifes death he is tired of war but realises that no one will believe him wanting to end the war, he looks at his sons, iroh has too much blood on his hands n likes fighting too much to be the one to take over from him. Ozai is too cruel, twisted n power hungry for it to be him. Lu ten is promising but after talking with him (under the pretences of teaching him royal politics, laws n other things that the presumed heir would need to know) azulon discovers that lu ten does not want to rule and to force him to do so would only make him resent the throne. Lu ten suggests zuko instead, zuko loves the nation n the ppl, zuko is a naturally caring n protective person, zuko already sneaks out n mingles with citizens who can’t seem to help loving him, he just draws everyone in. Lu ten suggests having zuko (and lala if zuzu is there so is she) attend these lessons with azulon n Lu ten the excuse given to allow it is that zuko is to be trained to be Lu tens advisor when he is firelord. Its the other way round really but no one else needs to know that yet, zuko can be the lord, Lu ten n lala the advisors. Lu ten is the one keeps the farce going n keeps the target for assassination on his back rather than his little cousins. Lu ten is reported dead at ba sing se but is alive just so injured n with amnesia, possibly also damage to his chi so he can’t bend. Is picked up by the boulder who was an army soldier but leaves after that battle as he can’t stand to see that much blood anymore. Lu ten has soul marks but they hang on his skin like a very log hanging belt no one is going to notice them unless he gets naked. Growing up zuko n lala discover they r soul mates, lala is far more stable as she knows her brother will always love her no matter what she does n without conditions like father. She still is terrifying but she is loyal to zuko n only plays at being loyal to ozai. When Lu ten is reported dead n ozai makes a play for the throne azulon sees his chance n when says ozai must lose a son, he doesn’t want zuko dead, he plans to remove zuko from ozai family line register n either take him in as his own son or to have iroh take zuko in. Either way zuko was never going to die. Lala not knowing this is scared her only person will be taken from her goes to mother as even though mother doesn’t love her she loves zuko n will be willing to protect him, that done she goes n spends the night with zuko in case father sends assassins. Ursa makes the poison n gives it to ozai n then runs, it isn’t fatal poison she is hoping that ozai will mess up, azulon to survive but proof that ozai tried to kill him will see ozai either in prison till he dies or being executed for treason. Either way zuko is safe from his father n azulon can’t kill zuko as he will be the only remaining male heir, ozai dead, iroh too old to have more children n azula being too young n too female for most of the war counsellors to take seriously. Ozai adds something of his own to the poison, not completely trusting ursa (I wonder y) the poison ends up stimulating death long enough for azulon to be declared dead, ozai crowned n shit started. Azulons body is secreted away by a small group of loyal followers n his health slowly, very slowly returns, he is an OLD man even if the poison doesn’t kill him it does still kick his ass a bit. Ozai ups his campaign to get rid of zuko, lala quickly becomes VERY good at acting, manipulation n fighting to counter this n keep her dum dum alive, zuko becomes paranoid as hell but reaches new heights in stealth, weaponry n first aid. Lala is counting down the days till she has a valid excuse to kill ozai. Azulon is pissed as hell that he can’t do anything from where he is apart from try to help zuko as much as he can by sending ppl he trusts to teach him n look after him. Iroh comes back n really throws a spanner in the works, dismissing his fathers ppl from around zuko, in the (how many??) months that he is back before zuko is shipped out has the highest number of nearly successful assassination attempts on zuko since ursa left. Ozai is not impressed (that they failed), lala is adding uncles name to her shit list, azulon is just mystified as to how his son who is a supposedly great tactician can be so damn stupid.

Then the agni kai happens n azulon is too pissed off at ozai to care about iroh anymore. Azula is leaving with zuko “as otherwise his only example of fire bending will be uncle father n really even dum dum is better than that, besides then if zuko dishonours the family I can kill him straight away.” She has spent too long keeping him alive now for him to ruin all her efforts now. Zuko still has the same soul mates but also has the marks for Lu ten, azula n yue. Azula has zuko, toph n yue. Lu ten has zuko, azula n boulder at the least. Toph has azula added to her group. 6 months after zuko is banished azulon manages to find their location n reach them before they leave, takes over teaching them again n rips iroh several new ones while the crew watches in awe n horror. Azulon finds out about zukos marks n what ozai did n nearly sinks the ship in his rage, lala is glad to find someone else to help her keep zuko alive even if she doesn’t fully trust him, the only one who gets that treasure is zuko. With azulon backing his thoughts about stopping the war n to start helping the ppl of his nation zuko is different by the time aang gets freed, he n lala (im still coming with u dum dum) start working with the gaang earlier n things go smoother? The fire royals end up going to the northern city with them where they meet yue, she n azula bond, azula teaches her to be terrifying, azulon just watches n makes cutting remarks on how stupid the norths misogyny is n just how under prepared they r for anything really, the small fleet of their southern sisters tribe could lay seige, win n not loose more than maybe 5 ppl n they r all non benders. Water ppl being pissed that they can’t kill azulon due to him not being fire lord anymore n is just a doting grandfather really look at how harmless n unarmed I am, they have no claimable vendetta to excuse their killing him as lawful by tribe standards, as the tribe isolated itself n has had no real damage from azulon, also he has already been declared dead which is throwing them a little. Hahn being stupid enough to try n take azulon on, azulons bitch face is epic n lala vows to replicate it one day. Political marriage betrothal between yue n zuko? This azulon is a mix of grumpy old man, sarcastic little shit n im-too-fabulous-for-this attitude. When they find toph is also when they find boulder n Lu ten, zuko n azula bond with him n that breaks the amnesia n katara might be able to help heal his chi?

[olderthannetfic]

hi hi history-non again, sorry I know it's a very

ahem wide and girthy ahem

ask, and i'm sorry for not narrowing it down farther my brain is smooth as butter and the dart board, so to speak, is. big. i feel like im throwing my dart in the ocean of 'what i don't know' and trying to spear a fish who might speak to me like the queer elder i never ha d ;lkasjd;flkas damn you small conservative town ANYWAYS

i guess okay maybe do you have any favourite figureheads? whats your fave pieces of lgbtqa+ media (like books or shows?)

thanks again and sorry for.

uh.

big.

--

Lolololol. Yes.... it’s so... big...

In the 90s, the writers of nonfiction who I found really inspirational were Susie Bright and Kate Bornstein. My Gender Workbook was a classic. I gather there’s a new edition.

I was a massive, massive nerd, so my actual favorite queer book as a 14-year-old is one that will be a bit... uh... much if you’re not feeling very intellectual. It’s Third Sex, Third Gender: Beyond Sexual Dimorphism in Culture and History. This thing is a massive doorstop of a book that collects academic journal articles on third gender roles from various cultures. I was obsessed with this thing. Again, it’s academic journal articles, not popular nonfiction, so expect that level of impenetrable prose.

I was also a giant weeb, so I read a bunch of books on the history of gay sex in Japan. It’s pretty interesting how much people assume the “m/m sex = sin” shit was worldwide and how much it just was not.

In terms of fiction, I’ve always struggled to find f/f media I relate to. I really like the tv adaptations of Fingersmith and Tipping the Velvet. Lots of fucked up problematicness and gorgeous visuals. Gotta love the lady with the strap-on and the gold body paint!

For other queer media, I was a big fan of Velvet Goldmine and of Pedro Almodóvar’s older films, which are full of every problematic kink you can think of. They also have a lot of het I like, like the lady being coerced into sex (that she enjoys) by the drag queen who impersonates her famous mother she has a lot of mommy issues about... except said drag queen is really an undercover police officer. Just... whut. (All the “straight” stuff in Almodóvar’s films is also bugfuck nuts and often kind of queer.)

I really, really, really loved Crash. Not the shitty one that won an oscar: the car crash perverts one full of weird UST. There’s a ton of straight sex in this too, along with every gender combo and a laundry list of upsetting kinks. It’s just every kind of weird perv thing. (��Weird art film full of sex and problematicness” is pretty much the defining feature of movies I liked as a teen. I loved Kissed, that het necrophilia movie too.)

Stage Beauty is probably my favorite film for bi vibes. It’s this meditation on identity as the English stage was changing over from having men play women to having actual actresses. It ends in f/m, but it’s definitely a very queer film.

If you want slice of life stuff, I guess you could try Dykes to Watch Out For (the comic that’s the source of the bechdel test) or the Tales of the City novel series. These will both give you a sense of what was going on in certain queer communities in the late 20thC. If you want something relatively fluffy, Maurice is a historical costume drama with a happy ending. I found it awfully slow as a college student, but it does have naked Rupert Graves (Lestrade from Sherlock), so...

----

See, this is hard to answer because I came of age and did all of my reading of that kind a long time ago. I pretty quickly moved on to fangirl media, which I have always liked a lot better than other arguably queer stuff. Back in the 90s, that meant Japanese stuff and fic. Later, I had access to more flavors of by-fujoshi-for-fujoshi media.

So my actual favorite m/m books are a bunch of “m/m romance” (i.e. American BL being sold as ebooks on amazon). If you want live action TV and fandomy vibes, you’re better off with Trapped (hot cop/mobster action!) or one of those Thai series about schoolboys or something than stuff made by cis gay men in the US.

I also came of age in an era when “queer” media was very Cis Gay Men And Sometimes Cis Lesbians with an occasional nod to bi people existing... maybe. Kate Bornstein and a few others were raising the profile of MtF transsexuals (the term in use at the time) who wanted surgery or even, gasp, maybe didn’t want bottom surgery in some cases. Anything about FtMs or nb/agender/etc. identities was practically invisible. I saw the term ‘genderqueer’ around a bit, but it was mostly in contexts that were very tryhard and unappealing to me.

(You haven’t given any details, but I’m going to go out on a limb and guess you’re like much of tumblr and the flavors of queerness you relate to aren’t so much the Cis Gay Men Only culture that makes up quite a bit of queer history and older queer media.)

I can tell you what I liked as a teen, but not everybody is into fucked up art films that may not have happy endings. I can try to rec things about queer culture in the 90s, but I probably don’t have great recs for way earlier or later than that... unless it’s so much earlier that I’ve researched it while writing fic of some historical canon or other. A lot of how I learned about queer culture myself was from magazines or from reading soc.bi on usenet or just from living through the 90s--not typically from books that are easy to unearth and just hand to someone now.

I tend to just not like anything in the contemporary romance or slice of life genres, regardless of gender and orientation, so while I’ve watched/read a bit more queer stuff like this, especially in the past when I had less access to queer media, it’s not a space I’m great at reccing in. And that’s unfortunate because a lot of that type of art gives you a better sense of what other queer people were like in other eras and/or it’s a safer rec than some bananas crazy BDSM film.

I was, and am, very kinky (though pretty lazy in terms of actual practice), so a lot of my reading and media interest was bound up in that also. Obviously, I was quite interested in the drawings of Tom of Finland or the photography of Robert Mapplethorpe, but are you going to be into photos of some guy shoving a whip handle in his ass? I love the movie Cruising... it’s about serial killers and leather and homophobia and is every bit as potentially traumatizing as that sounds.

I feel you on the problem of finding queer elders. There isn’t really an obvious way to go about this.

[btsslowburnfic]

Series Summary: For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that.

AN: a loooong update where we get YN to Korea Previous Chapter here

The three of you made it safe and sound to your new brownstone across the river in New Jersey. Joe has a job lined up, but at the moment you and Xavier are unemployed. On this particular day, you are in your room job hunting when you hear a knock on your bedroom door and then see Xavier gently push it open. “Fly your ass to Korea. Now. Here,” Xavier throws a book at you. “I bought you a Korean dictionary.”

You roll your eyes. “Namjoon speaks English. And I can’t read the characters or whatever so how will a dictionary help. And, I’m not going to Korea.”

Xavier crosses his arms in front of his body. “Girl. You are still in your twenties. You have no job. There is a hot man who is also your soulmate across the ocean. GO TO KOREA.” You pick your phone back up, ignoring him. You hear him let out a frustrated sigh and leave the room. You didn’t know what you wanted. You didn’t tell them that Namjoon had passed along his schedule to you and that he would be in Korea for 6 weeks starting in two weeks and that he had offered to buy you a plane ticket. You kept going back and forth. Fine. Fuck it.

YN: Hey! I’ve been thinking and I would like to come visit. As long as it’s not too much trouble and won’t interfere with your schedule

You let out a breath and put the phone down. One thing you have learned is that he keeps very strange hours and there is no way of knowing when he will be awake, when he will be performing, or even what country he is in. You are shocked when you receive a reply instantly.

NJ: It’s no problem. I will be working a lot of the time, but there is also some free time blocked out so make sure you’re ready to do some sightseeing as well on your own. I’ll rent a noona for you.

YN: I have no idea what that means but ok. Sounds exciting.

NJ: You can rent tour guides. An “older sister” to translate and show you around on some of the days.

YN: That would be amazing! Ok. Sounds great!!

NJ: I’ll book the flight and email you the information.

YN: Awesome ^_^ Thank you so much.

You try to keep your cool. You really do. But it doesn’t last long as you sit the phone down and walk out into the hallway. “Xavier!”

“What? Brat.” You hear him call from the living room.

“I’m going to Korea!” You say with a big smile on your face.

“Holy shit. You’re doing it!?! Really? When?” He sits up straight on the couch.

“I’m not sure. He’s booking the flight.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God. IT’S HAPPENING. Come. Sit here. Let’s watch some Kdramas. We need to prepare you.”

You roll your eyes but join him on the couch anyway.

--3 weeks later--

The flight isn’t too bad. When Namjoon booked your ticket you did secretly wonder if he would spring for an upgraded seat since you know...you guessed he was rich. You did not expect that he was going to pay for a first class seat though. The comfort of the seats and the fact that food was actually delicious helped to balance out the longest flight you had ever taken in your life. You managed to get some rest on the plane, but not very much since you were so excited and nervous. You had not seen each other for a while. And the last time you saw him you were both naked.

When you arrive you don’t have any bags to collect; you just brought your carry-on. You know you are going to do a lot of shopping while you are there and had decided you would just buy a suitcase there. You walk down to departures and scan the crowd looking for your name. This was so exciting. You had been the person in the crowd holding a name placard before, but you had never had it done for you. It helped that it was one of the few names written in English. You smile and walk over to a man in a suit.  After confirming each other’s identity, you follow him out to a black SUV with tinted windows. He takes your bag and you slide into the backseat. 

YN: Hey! I’m on my way to the hotel. When will I get to see you?

NJ: Yeah….about that. There is no way I would be able to just be going in and out of a hotel without anyone here noticing. This isn’t LA. We can’t really go out in public much here. The driver will be taking you to my apartment complex. Once you get here, you will let security know who you are. They will provide you with a key and directions.

You weren’t expecting this at all, but it made sense.

YN: Umm ok. Sounds like a plan. 

You hoped to God someone at the security office spoke English. Oh well. You typed some things into your translation app just in case and tried to enjoy the scenery. It was a city, but it seemed a lot cleaner than LA. Less sunny, and more modern. At least the parts you were driving through.

After a fifteen minute taxi ride that has brought you into a very fancy part of Seoul you try to keep your cool as your driver assures you that this is the location you are supposed to be at. It is fancy looking as fuck and has a giant ass gate around it. The driver pulls up and shows his credentials and then pulls up and rolls your window down.

The security officer stands there, looking at you. You pull out your passport and state your name. He looks over a sheet of paper and nods. Handing you an envelope that feels like it has a keyboard and some papers in it. You thank him in shitty Korean and the driver closes the window. You open the envelope.

“Hey. If you’re getting this, I wasn’t able to get off work in time to meet you. The driver knows which building to go to. Use this key to go to unit 4106. Text me when you get there. Sorry!

Namjoon”

The chauffeur drives between several of the buildings. The streets are lined with trees and there appeared to be several small gardens between the buildings. The car comes to a stop outside building 4. The driver gets out to open your door and hands you the bag. You thank him and head into the building.

The apartment building was a lot like a luxury hotel, you find yourself thinking. It was decorated similarly with gilded light fixtures and a marble floor. You scan your key card at the elevators and head up to the 10th floor. 

It becomes very obvious from the minute you walk in that this is Namjoon’s actual apartment. His giant shoes are all over the foyer.  You purse your lips and take out your phone.

YN: YOU DIDNT SAY IT WAS YOUR APARTMENT

NJ: Relax sweetheart, the guest bedroom is for you. I’m hardly ever there. Make yourself at home and I’ll see you later ;p

YN: THATS NOT THE POINT

NJ: You’re welcome. Stop being a brat and enjoy.

You pout a little bit. Fine. Fine. You’ve already slept with him so why does it matter if this is his apartment. Because it feels so much more intimate, you think. You enter into the space while texting Xavier.

YN: New chapter in the Kdrama series. 

You knew Xavier would normally be sleeping, but he was so excited and wanted to make sure you made it safely he was wide awake.

X: Oh no, what?

YN: he didn’t arrange for me to stay in a hotel IM AT HIS APARTMENT.

X: AHAHAHAHAHA HOLY SHIT. Is it nice? Is there like a waterfall? Does it smell like rich people? Send pictures!

YN: I don’t think I should send pics since he’s famous, but there are no waterfalls that I can see. It smells normal. Actually no, it smells new, like people don’t really live here. Stay tuned for updates.

X: Has he dicked you yet?

YN: -_- he’s stuck at work. And I’ll be in the guest bedroom thankyouverymuch.

X: Yeah….ok…..suuuuuuure.

You put your phone back in your pocket and continue to wander around the apartment. It is the size of a house. There is a small terrace running  along the side of the unit and three open rooms that flow together. I guess rich people need more than one living room? You wonder. They are all furnished with couches and art. The floors are a beautiful Marble. Or Granite. Some expensive imported thing. You notice several plants on the wall as well as out on the terrace. Huh. I did not think he would be into plants, you find yourself thinking.

YN: Nice plants

NJ: My pride and joy

You smile and walk into the kitchen. It looks like a showroom. You doubt much cooking goes on here. If you could afford to eat out all the time you would too. You open the fridge and as predicted, it is mostly empty. There are a few bottles of water and some random condiments. Panic strikes you as you begin to wonder if there’s a coffee maker in this apartment. This could be a deal breaker; you might have to flee to the Marriott. There isn’t one sitting out. You frantically open cabinets. You make eye contact with a very fancy looking Espresso maker. Ok. You will learn how to use this beast. You sit it out on the counter and plug it in. Crisis averted for now. You continue through the rest of the house. You quickly find the master bedroom. Big bed. That’s all you take note of before closing the door. You don’t want to be nosy. You wander to the other end of the apartment and find an extra bedroom and an office. You don’t go to the office, but do take your stuff into the guest bedroom. You are feeling tired and starting to feel hungry.

YN: When will you be back? Is there a convenience store nearby? I need coffee and/or food.

NJ: Sorry. It will still be a while. Actually there are several stores on property. The closest one is in building 2. Here, download the app. I’ll send you the login info.

YN: Thanks.

You change out of your traveling clothes into real clothing and head to the market. The apartment complex’s layout is fairly easy to understand once you look at the app. You walk over to tower 2 and ride the elevator to the market level. It looks like the atrium of a cruise ship. There is a giant crystal chandelier hanging in the middle of the lobby area as well as beautiful indoor trees, glass art bulbs, probably a peacock or two wandering around, and some light music playing in the background. Oh God. I should just starve. This is too fancy. I need to leave.  

You turned to leave when you heard a voice speaking politely in Korean. You ignore it, and then hear the same voice ask in English,  “Excuse me, Miss. Can I help you?” A short man in his 50’s walked over. “I’m on the concierge staff here. You must be new.” 

“Ah yes. Thank you. Umm...Coffee please?”

“Of course. Take-away or beans?”

“Both please?” You ask, trying to keep it simple and very thankful for the English.

“Yes of course. If you just get me the unit number I can actually just have it sent there. Also there is an ordering and delivery app you can use next time if you would like to save yourself the walk.” The man explained while he typed some information into a tablet. 

“That’s very helpful. Thank you. For today, now please.” 

“Very well miss, please insert your chip or resident card here and sign,” he turned the tablet towards you. You inserted your debit card.  

“Thank you. Please wait.”

You take a seat in the fancy lobby area and get out your phone. You had some messages from Namjoon.

[NJ]: Oh, there is also an app you can download and order groceries to the apartment. 

[NJ]: I usually eat at work so I forget about it.

[NJ]: Sorry, you probably already hiked there.

A smirk crossed your face as you started to type a response.

[Y/N]: Sorry, I just saw these. And no worries. It’s a beautiful part of the complex. I was a little overwhelmed to be honest but the concierge was very helpful!  10/10 recommend.  

You take a picture of the lobby area and send it to him.

[NJ]: wow, yeah that’s beautiful. I haven’t actually been there myself.

The concierge returns, handing you a coffee and a bag of coffee beans.  You thank him profusely one more time.

“My pleasure. Take care.”

You sit the beans down and pose with your coffee cup, snapping a selfie to send to Namjoon.

[Y/N]: There, now all is right with the world ^_^

[NJ]: :) See you soon!

You travel back to the apartment and unpack your suitcase. You try your hardest to stay awake, but at this point you have been up for over 24 hours and you can feel the pull of sleep. You’ll just lay down for a nap. 

---------

It is dark outside by the time Namjoon gets off work. He feels bad he couldn’t meet you in the car at the airport, and even worse that he’s kept you waiting for hours. You haven’t answered any of his texts these past few hours either. He opens the door to his apartment. The lights are off. Did you leave? He wonders. He flips on the light and sees your shoes by the door which put a smile on his face. You must be sleeping. He hasn’t actually been in his apartment for about 2 months. It was mostly the same as he left it, except most of the time when he returned the apartment had a stale smell from having been left empty. This time it smelled like coffee and girl.

He enters the main living area and finds you laying in a small blanket nest on the couch with a laptop on the table; a coffee cup resting on a coaster next to it. He smiles and goes through to his bedroom to deposit his travel bag. He washes his face and changes clothes and then proceeds to nervously pace. Should he wake you up? You were probably tired, but at the same time, to prevent jet lag you shouldn’t sleep too much, and he wanted to hang out with you. He wrestles with this issue for a while and then decides he will try to wake you up.

He gently shakes your foot, “Hey sleepy. Wake up.” 

“Mmmmmmmmmmm…” you respond. What’s happening? You kick the thing bothering your foot. So annoying. You hear a deep voice laugh. Oh shit, where were you again? The shaking of your foot resumes and you crack open one of your eyes and see Namjoon sitting on the couch. “Heyyyy.”

“Hey there sweetheart. Nice seeing you in Korea.”

You feel your heart do a little flip flop at the way he’s talking to you but you want to play it cool. “Yeah. It’s good to be here.” You stretch out and move to sit up.

“How are your legs doing?” He asks.

“Good. They get stiff pretty easily and I still have to do my exercises everyday but they don’t hurt most of the time or anything. I get pretty bad headaches from time to time, but you already knew that. Sorry about that by the way.”

“It’s fine, I just carry aspirin around with me now.” He shrugs. “Did you get any food? Should I order something?”

“Yeah. Order some super Korean food.” You are fully awake now.

“Yeah? You serious? It’s not going to be like Koreatown food.” He teases

“Might as well jump in. If I don’t like it, there’s always rice, right?” You smile.

“That’s true,” he takes out his phone to order dinner.

“What did you do today?”

“Today was planning for the Festa. Even though it’s months away we have to make sure we have enough content planned just in case there are any unforeseen delays.”

“Cool.” You say. You had done your basic level ARMY research so you were somewhat familiar with their different activities.

“How was your flight? You should probably get up and stretch those legs around. Get up.” He pushes your shoulder playfully.

“Ughhh….fine. By the way. Nice apartment. Is rent like 20 grand a month?” You stand up groaning slightly like an old woman. Damn stiff legs.

“Uhh...I paid 6 million dollars for it up front so I don’t pay rent. Do you want anything to drink?”

It’s a good thing you weren’t drinking anything when he dropped that little factoid on you or you would have spit it out comic-book style. Jesus. That explained the security and Gucci grocery store. “Uh water please.” You walked over following him to the kitchen. “It’s good to see you by the way. Thanks for inviting me.” You slowly remember how to speak like a human again.

“Sure. I wish I had more free time to spend with you, but I’m glad you were able to make it.” He fills a glass with water for you. “Wait a minute! Before I forget,” he jogs out of the room and returns with a small box. “Here, this is for you. We were in Australia last month and I wanted to get something for you.”

You are surprised. It didn’t occur to you that he would think about you or buy you something. Until a few months ago you had considered yourself a nuisance. “Wow, thank you so much. You didn’t have to do that.” you say, taking the box, “I hope it’s a tiny KNOIFE or tiny koala or tiny kangaroo,” you open the box. It is an adorable mug with a Koala on it superimposed on the Australian Continent. It says in English, “Lucky Australian Koala.” You burst out laughing, cupping the mug with both your hands in front of your face. “This is perfection. Thank you so much for my authentic LUCKY AUSTRALIAN KOALA, I cannot wait to drink out of him tomorrow. Seriously. “ You sit the mug on the kitchen table. Fuck it. “Come here,” you gesture, and pull him in for a hug. His body feels solid against your and he gently wraps his arms around you. You give a firm squeeze. “Thank you for the mug and for flying me out here.”  You pull away and smile at him. 

He looks away almost shy, “It was nothing. I figure I still owe you a few for the pen incident.”

You take a drink of the water. “Yeah. You have had some dickish moments.” 

“Speaking of dickish behavior...do you want to talk about what happened with Ben or…?”

You shrug. “There’s not a lot to say. Ben apparently met his soulmate about 4 months before the car accident. He tried to stay away since we had already agreed that we didn't care about stuff like that. But he couldn't. I don't know when he started seeing Jessie behind my back. They were apparently banging all summer in the apartment and while I was in the hospital.” You take another gulp of water. Namjoon is surprised that he isn’t feeling much anger or sadness coming off of you. “After I got all my shit out of the apartment and had a chance to calm down, I couldn't be too mad about it you know? You and I had already slept together and most people aren't as stubborn as us. So really, how could they resist? I mean I was angry and sad at the time but at this point it seems like a lifetime ago. "

Namjoon had never asked about what had happened with Ben before, assuming that if you wanted to talk about it you would have brought it up. " Wow. "

"Yeah. I mean that's waaaay oversimplified but that's the gist of it. Anyways. Everything was a mess for me for a while. You know I stayed with Xavier and Joe and then  Xavier's husband got a really good job offer here so we all picked up and left LA."

“And now you’re in New York.” He finishes your thought

“Yeah. Well Jersey technically because rent is $1000 less a month. But I’m applying for jobs as assistant director at tv stations and theaters. I’m hopeful something will come up. I can’t really teach fitness classes anymore.”

Namjoon listens thoughtfully, feeling like a jackass for never asking about this stuff before. What kind of soulmate was he? 

“Well, let me know if you need a job reference.”

“Ahahahaha,” You laugh awkwardly. “No way. I don’t want people thinking I only got a job because I know someone famous.”

“Sweetheart, that’s how everyone gets jobs in the industry.” He leans against the counter.

“I don’t know, I’ll think about it.” You fidget

“You know I’ll just text Xavier and he’ll tell me the companies you applied for.” Namjoon flashes his dimples at you.

You scowl. “I didn’t realize you two were so chummy.”

“Hey, we bonded a lot in the hospital.” His phone let out a chirp. “The food is at the security office. I’ll be back in a few. Make yourself at home.” He heads over to the foyer to slip his shoes on. 

You decide to unpack and then wash your face and brush your teeth before returning to the main area where he has just returned. “That was fast”, you comment, meeting him near the door and taking a bag from his hands.

“I rode my bike over.” He replies, following you to the kitchen. 

“They let your clumsy ass ride a bike?” You tease, pulling food out.

He lets out a laugh, “Yeah. Just remember, only one of us has got hit by a car.”

“Touche. Touche. Alright. I don’t know what any of this is, so I’m going to go wait at the table like a lazy bitch.”

“Haha, fair enough. I’ll bring it over. “

You head over and have a seat at the dining table, placing your water down. This feels so weird. So intimate. He joins a few minutes later placing a bunch of food on the table along with a spoon and chopsticks.

“I’m sure there’s a fork around here somewhere if you need one.” He says as he opens the lids on the containers.

“I lived in LA where we ate sushi almost every day, I think I’ll be ok.” You sass back, ,looking over all of the delicious food. You start to dig in. He sits waiting to see what your reaction will be. You flash him a thumbs up as you chew. It’s definitely good. He smiles and begins to eat as well.

Dinner is relatively quiet. You had no idea how hungry you were until you started to eat. Some of the foods had a texture you didn’t quite care for, but overall you liked it all.

“Wow. That was delicious. Thank you so much.” You smile

“It was. You’re welcome.” He gets up and starts to clear the table and you join him. 

You continue to yawn involuntarily as the two of you straighten up the kitchen,

“Do you want some coffee or a nap?” he asks.

“I’m going to try and stay awake a little bit longer. What does the rest of the night look like?”

“Relaxing. I am exhausted from work. And you don’t look so fresh yourself. LEt’s watch a movie or something.” He says it so casually. Like this is a normal thing the two of you do. Like it hasn’t been months since the last time you saw each other and you left him naked and alone in a bed. You feel your heartbeat speed up.

“Hold on, I’m changing into some comfy clothes before I make this commitment.” you get up and head towards your room.

You come back in leggings and a shirt. Namjoon has re-positioned himself on the end of the couch. You sit next to him. “Ok, all set,” you grab your blanket. 

“You take your comfort quite seriously,” Namjoon laughs as he hits the play button. 

“Definitely,” you respond, yawning. After about half an hour, It’s dark outside, the night spilling into the living room. You are trying to keep your eyes open. You feel Namjoon put his large arm around you. You don’t resist, you nestle into it. You feel the warmth of his body radiating against you. It feels so nice.You try to stay awake but your eyelids grow heavy.  The next thing you know, you wake up slowly, not quite oriented to where you are. Your face is sweaty. You take stock of your surroundings. You are still in the living room. You must have fallen asleep while watching the movie. You move a bit and realize you are not alone. Namjoon is asleep as well. Underneath you. Oh god. You probably trapped him. Is that your drool on his shirt? You wonder. But you know that yes, it definitely is. Jesus [Y/N].Not making a great impression here.  Must sneak out so the drool will dry before he wakes up. You move as stealthy as possible off of him, which is very difficult since you found yourself laying between his legs. How did you even get like that? You had gone in for a light snuggle to see how it would be received and then apparently passed out dead. No more starting movies when you were tired. You knew it was your weakness. 

The poor man probably had to pee and was stuck, forced to lay underneath you until he fell asleep.    Is he snoring? Huh. Well ok. You drool and he snores. Very attractive individuals. You grab a blanket from your nest on the other side of the couch and put it on top of him. You sneak down the hallway to your bathroom, pee and sneak into your bedroom. You lay down and try to fall asleep, but your heart is beating fast as all you can think about it falling asleep on Namjoon. You feel your face grow warm. You are  a mix of turned on and embarrassed. You turn off your light and wonder if he will still want to go sightseeing with your drooly-ass tomorrow.  @calling-dips-on-j-hope​​  @ghostkat23​​ @cuteipat​​ @marianeamine​​@thisisval​​ @almonte12​​  @themisunderstoodblackswan​ @bobbyboops​  @betysotelo18​ @katerbees​

[itsnsfwalways]

Canyon Moon

FIC MASTERLIST

warnings for ch 3: mentions of drug use (weed), swearing, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), a hint of degradation if you squint

chapter 3: you’re so golden

The sun hitting your eyes was the first thing that woke you up, the warmth inviting, but also very bright. Scrunching you’re face up, you tug the blanket over your head, turning to the side and taking a deep breath in. You find giving your body a few minutes to wake up before you force yourself out of bed makes you feel so much more awake and in a good mood.

Stretching your back, you rub the sleep out of your eyes and roll out of bed, trudging to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth.

Yawning as you walk into the kitchen, you make yourself an iced coffee before starting on breakfast. Putting on Rumours, you sing quietly to yourself while making a scramble with a bunch of veggies to get your greens in early.

Heading back to your room with hot sauce in hand, you light some incense and take a few bong rips before eating your breakfast quietly on the window sill. That was something you absolutely LOVED about your room, the edge of the window was just wide enough for you to sit (or lay down) and admire the view of palm trees and beautiful blue skies.

Opening up Misery, you finish a few chapters and mindlessly eat for a bit, listening to the birds chirp and the buzz of the city waking up. Once you finish your food, you go sit cross legged on your meditation pillow, facing the floor length mirror as you make sure your posture is straight. Putting on your favorite meditation music, which, at the moment, is 432hz Healing Tones, you take a deep breath in, clearing your mind and allowing the sun and healing vibrations to roll over you. You imagine yourself breathing in healing energy and nothing but love, and exhaling all of the stuck, negative energy, trying to ‘push’ it out with your breath. Sometimes it felt a bit silly, but if it made you feel loads better, why not do it?

About twenty minutes pass before you slowly blink open your eyes, yawning quietly before going into child’s pose, stretching your back and hips after sitting for so long.

Lying down on your back on the mat, you stare up at the ceiling, feeling an overall sense of being okay. Your body feels good, your mind feels good, your stomach’s full of butterflies that make you smile and blush at the thought of seeing Harry in a bit.

Pulling yourself up with a grunt, you throw on a swim suit and a random pair of shorts, not caring to bring a real top. After applying a bit of sunscreen on your face and shoulders, you slide into your flip flops and fill up a water bottle before heading out the door.

Unlocking Sunflower, you sit on the edge of the side door while sliding on your scuffed white rollerskates with obnoxiously bright blue wheels. They were your pride and joys, and made you feel as if you were in a different time, enjoying the breeze on your cheeks as you skate towards your spot. The journey only took about 15 minutes, with minimal stumbles, so it was already turning out to be a great day.

Finally pulling up to the small lot, you squat down to pull of your skates, putting them behind a rock along with your socks and shorts. You shook your head as you sprinted towards the ocean, leaping into the freezing water. It was the only way you were able to get in, you were never one to wade slowly in. Swimming about half a mile out, the waves crash over you coolly, soothing your quickly warming body. It was going to be a hot day today, good to know. Treading water, you look at the coast, everything looking so small. You made sure to breathe in, capturing this exact moment in memory. The feeling of salty water on your skin, wet hair stuck to your neck and the slight burn in your arms, but this was it. This was pure bliss.

But, you’re also not insane, so after a bit you swim back to shore, spending about ten minutes doing handstands and flips before getting out, wringing out your hair on your way up the beach. Climbing up the pile of large rocks next to cliff, you lay on top of a relatively flat one, allowing your body to dry off for a little bit and give you a few extra moments of sun.

You always hated dusting off your feet for forever before getting back in your socks and skates, but rather that than get sand in them.

“Fuck, I really am killing it today,” you pant to yourself, definitely feeling a burning in your thighs as you start heading home, desperately wanting a shower and some chocolate.

Throwing your skates in Sunflower, you slam the door closed and trudge up the steps to the apartment, practically falling over as you enter the door.

Laura looks up from her phone, perched on the countertop eating a bowl of cereal.

“Look at you, sexy girl, how was the water?” She teases, handing you a banana from the counter immediately because she knows you need it.

“Good,” you sigh, taking a bite and moaning, leaning against the wall for a minute in silence.

“When’s your date with Harry again?” She asks, glancing at the clock.

Oh fuck.

The clock read 10:30.

“Okay, that’s not bad, I just need to get my ass in gear,” you convince yourself, throwing the banana away and grabbing a spoonful of peanut butter. You didn’t have time to make yourself anything else, plus you were eating with Harry soon anyways.

“You got this. Do I get to meet him?” Laura encourages, raising her thumbs at you.

You laugh and nod. “Absolutely, just don’t ask about his exes or I’m going to look crazy.”

“Got it, no exes. Get in the shower, you’re dripping everywhere!”

You run upstairs, yelling back, “I’ll clean it up,” as you head into your room, turning on Currents by Tame Impala to pump you up as you shower, quickly washing your hair and body, shaving the itty bitty stubble just in case.

Running some curl cream through your hair, you try and scrunch and dry your hair as fast as possible, which doesn’t really work, but at least you tried.

A bathrobe envelopes you as you sit down at your small vanity, starting on a little bit of makeup. Dabbing a bit of concealer on your undereyes and small blemishes, you keep it semi-natural with just bronzer, blush, and highlighter, admittedly a ton, but who’s to say. Brushing your brows out and filling in the ends a little darker, all that goes on your eyes is a brown eyeshadow and a beautiful gold pigment, then comes drenching your eyelashes in mascara.

You turn your attention back to your hair, thank god you were having extremely good luck today, because it fell perfectly, the layers framing your face so elegantly that you had to smile at your reflection. Self-love is a journey, and you were glad to be in a good space.

Checking your phone finally, you find a text from Harry, sent 2 hours ago. Whoops.

Good morning, Y/N, just wanted to make sure we’re still on for 12. Hope you slept well.

Well, it’s confirmed, you’re a completely asshole. It’s 11:15 and you still haven’t responded to a text about a date happening at NOON.

AHH IM SO SORRY hi harry ! i don’t check my phone for a while in the mornings, i’m the worst, i know. we definitely are still on, haha, noon still work for you ?

You throw your phone on your bed while you stare at your closet, trying to find a good outfit for today.

Eventually coming to a pair of high waisted white shorts that you got from your mom, thankfully having the same waistline as her in high school, and a light blue silk tank top with gold straps. Planning on wearing your black boots with the gold detailing, because, hey, it seems you’ve got to up your fashion game dealing with Harry, you place them next to your bedroom door before checking your phone.

You scared me for a minute, I was about to go eat a very sad lunch by myself. I’m going to start heading over, that alright by you?

You giggle quietly at his response, typing out,

sounds great :) i’m planning on wearing a pair of boots, should i bring sandals or anything ?

Woah, trying to outdress me?

He sends the next one moments later.

Just teasing, boots will be fine. We’re going to this cafe I really like.

of course i’m going to out dress you, who do you think i am ? and awesome !! see you in a bit !!

You grab a small black bag, putting your sunglasses case, gum, keys, wallet, chapstick, lighter, your dab pen (you never know), and a small rollerball perfume inside. Sliding in some gold hoops and placing your rings back on your fingers, you wiggle them a bit. They always look a bit naked without them on.

Putting on your boots, you head into the bathroom to brush your teeth once more before Harry arrives. But nope, the doorbell, rings as soon as you start brushing your molars.

“Shit,” you gasp, heading over to the door, toothbrush in hand.

You swing open the door and rush out, “Hey, Harry, I’ll be out in two seconds, come on in.”

Taking in his appearance, you grin at the white sunglasses pushed in his hair. Wearing a white t shirt, it’s tucked into a pair of blue pants that matches your shirt to a goddamn T, which you can’t help but laugh at as you walk away. Passing Laura in the hallway, you give her a look as she walks over to him.

Their conversation travels through your open door as you finish brushing your teeth.

“You must be Laura,” Harry starts, and you can just see him reaching his hand out.

“I am, it’s great to meet you,” she says, her smile bleeding into her voice.

“You have a beautiful home, so close to the beach too,” Harry compliments.

“Thank you, yeah, Y/N found this place forever ago and we’ve been living here since we moved out. My dad knew the landlord and they gave us a ridiculously low price for it, but I am not complaining.”

“Oh that’s sick, I’ve been in Malibu for just a bit, always kind of changing my location around LA and England.”

“That was what we thought we were going to do, but I definitely am glad we stayed here. Living in the city is fun and all, but it’s a lot, you know? We need our peace and quiet at home.”

You walk back out, purse and phone in hand, taking in their positioning. Laura’s sitting on a stool, cup of coffee in hand as Harry stands across from her, eyes on you as soon as you walked out.

“I’ll see you later,” you grin at Laura, sneaking another glance at Harry as you give her a quick hug.

“Okay, bye! Nice meeting you, Harry!” she smiles, and of course he replies with the same.

You close the door behind the two of you and he looks you up and down again, meeting your eyes and smiling.

“Hi,” you breathe out, his eyes capturing you immediately.

“Hi,” he whispers back, squeezing your exposed side. “You look really good, Y/N.”

You bite your lip to hide your smile, placing your hands on his shoulders, feeling the fabric (but really just his muscles). His hands immediately go to cup your waist, not pulling you in, just holding you.

“So do you. Like the blue,” you grin, moving your hands down to his waistband.

“Proper matching, I’d say,” he cheekily smiles, thumbs feeling the edge of your shirt’s material along your ribs, your breath hitching slightly at his movement.

You’re the first to pull away, moving your hand to lace your fingers together, tugging him gently down the stairs. He follows after you, squeezing your hand with his and shaking his head, trying to mask his smile by twitching his nose.

That gorgeous being of a car is parked in front of your house, the color alone bringing a smile to your lips, but now the top was down, which was about to make this a lot more fun.

“God, Harry, I might have to steal this from you,” you sigh, arms crossed as you look up at him seriously.

He laughs loudly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Maybe one day I’ll let you drive it,” He whispers, kissing the top of your head before pulling away and opening your door like nothing happened.

You stand there still for a moment before blinking and getting in, holding his hands on the door when he closes it. Turning your body, you lean out the door, placing your hands next to his as you whisper in his ear,

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Sliding your lips along his cheek as you pull away, you plop back into the chair, putting on your sunglasses and messing with your hair a bit.

Harry clears his throat before walking around the car, sliding into the driver’s side and starting the car.

“Do you want to play music?” He slowly asks, his tone sending shivers down your legs.

You perk up at this, nodding quickly and taking the aux cord from him.

“I’d love to. Have you heard of Tash Sultana? They released an EP a few years ago, their voice is incredible. They make all their own loops and play every instrument by themselves.”

Harry gives you a side eye, grinning as he says,

“That’s some pretty new music for you, princess.”

Your lips part slightly and Harry watches closely as your cheeks flush, licking the side of his mouth with a grin.

“Have I found a nickname you like, Y/N?” His voice has raised slightly, obvious excitement in his expression.

“Only sometimes,” you shrug, trying to play that off as cool as possible. “And yeah, my ex actually introduced me to their music.”

Harry raises his eyes at this, bringing a finger to his lips to hold his laugh in.

“Why the fuck did I say that?” Your hands go up to your face as Harry finally laughs at you, turning the volume down just a little to listen to you.

Sighing for a second, you pull your hands away before blurting out,

“I don’t want you to think that I’m lying to you about not knowing your music or you, because I do listen to stuff released now, obviously. I’m not a music snob or one of those too cool for school people because I absolutely blast SZA when I’m drunk and I’m starting to overthink and-“

Harry cuts you off by taking your jaw in his hand, turning your face towards him. Perfect timing, as always, pulling up to a red light right when he needs it.

“Hey,” he whispers with a smile, stroking your cheek. “I don’t think that you’re lying to me, and I understand. I was kind of a dick for saying all that right away to be honest, but I get it. I listen to mostly oldies too, if I really think about it.”

You exhale, looking up at him.

“Okay. I’m still going to freak out about it and make sure you know.”

He squeezes your jaw slightly, scrunching his nose.

“No,” he cutely protests, and you can’t help but giggle.

He smiles in return and lets your jaw go, hands going back to grip the wheel a little bit tighter

The two of you drive for a little bit, not really saying anything. You can’t help but dance in your seat to the beat, silently mouthing the lyrics to yourself. Harry keeps glancing over at you, too, grinning at the way you blush when he notices you doing it.

“How was your morning so far?” You start, just wanting to hear him talk.

He has to talk a little bit louder over the wind, but he’s happy to get the conversation started.

“Quite good actually. I’m going to Cabo in a couple weeks and was just getting some early packing in. Don’t you hate when you go somewhere and realize you forgot something like a toothbrush at home?”

“It’s the worst, I always end up having to go to a corner store and get something. What’s in Cabo?” You ask, already so amazed at his lifestyle.

“Friend of mine is having a birthday, so we’re there for a bit celebrating, going to be an amazing trip. Happy to be here, though,” he adds, eyes flicking to yours as he says it.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

“What about you? How was your morning?”

“Really good. Sorry about not texting you back for so long, by the way. I just have this thing about using technology right after I wake up, it gives me pretty bad headaches so I go as long as I can without it unless I hear it ring. But it was super productive, I got a good breakfast and read in, meditated a bit, skated to the beach and went for a swim, then got ready for this.”

“You put me to shame, Y/N, you really do.” Harry laughs, running a hand through his hair.

“I just woke up in a really good mood. I can definitely be grumpy in the morning, I’ll tell you that,” you try to explain, scared of feeling too pretentious.

“Yeah? I can see you throwing a fit if someone wakes you up before you’re ready,” Harry nonchalantly says, looking at the rings on his fingers before checking your reaction.

Cheeks hot, you feel almost scolded by him, thankful for the large sunglasses on your face.

“You’re not wrong,” you finally agree, crossing your legs smoothly.

That doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry, reaching a hand down to rest on your thigh almost immediately. His large hand wraps around your skin, thumb immediately starting to go in small circles.

“I started meditating a few years ago but I absolutely love it, I feel like it allows you to start the morning off right.”

Taking a deep breath before answering, you nod and say,

“Completely agree. It still can feel a bit weird doing it when I’m in a mood or anything, but whether you believe in it or not, having all that negative energy in you without doing anything about it isn’t good for you.”

“You’re quite cute when you talk about things you like. Light up like a little sun,” Harry smirks, pulling his sunglasses up to look at you, the piece of gum in his teeth allowing his jawline to be even more prominent. You do the same, placing them in your lap as you uncross your legs, his hand staying on your left thigh as it goes back towards the seat.

“Yeah?” You don’t stop looking at him, watching his eyes flit between you and the road.

Harry hums before adding, “I think you know that though.”

“That I’m quite arguably the epitome of all things golden? Of course, but it’s always nice to hear.”

You make a noise of protest as Harry removes his thigh to make a left, while simultaneously laughing at you.

“You are absolutely golden, love, don’t you forget it.”

He pauses for a moment before starting again.

“I’m going to warn you right now that there might be some photos taken of you when we go in or leave, or fans coming to take pictures. If that bothers you-“

Cutting him off quickly, you sit up, shaking your head.

“I dressed cute for a reason, if it happens it happens. I’m going to be pissed if someone comes for my outfit though.” You giggle at yourself and grab Harry’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I know what I’m signing up for. You’re good.”

Squeezing back, he looks down at his lap for a moment before glancing back at you, eyes so sincere your heart clenches a little.

“Thank you. Just... need a little reminder sometimes too.”

Unlacing your fingers, you stick your pinkie out, swearing, “I promise that I will always remind you that you’re not going to cause me any problems, and I’m not going to do the same. You promise to always remind me I’m golden?”

“‘Course, love. Was gonna do that anyways,” Harry chuckles, intertwining your fingers, heartbeat going just a little bit faster.

He couldn’t explain it, didn’t want to admit it to himself even, but your presence made his world just a little bit brighter. He couldn’t get you out of his mind, your smile, giggle, and sweet-smelling perfume was all he could think about since last night. His brain was trying to come up with reasons why this was a bad idea, how you could be using him, you were going to break his heart and leave without a second glance. But one look at your face, those eyes looking at him with so much wonder, made him hate the part of himself looking for excuses. These feelings felt way too much, too fast, but all he knew was he wanted to call you his girl. His sweet Y/N.

Parking his car next to some trees, he runs over to open your door, helping you step out and shutting the door behind you, placing the cover on the car quickly. The two of you walk into the cafe in silence, arms swaying next to each other. You figured he wasn’t comfortable holding hands in public on the first date.

The atmosphere of the Beachwood Cafe was everything you could want in a coffee shop. Absolutely stunning artwork covering the walls, a checkerboard floor, fun colors splattered all over. Your face must show how excited you were because you feel Harry bump you, grinning down at you. You hum, smile on your cheeks as he holds your face in his hands for a second.

“Like it?” You nod happily at his question, following the waitress to your table, one in the furthest corner from the door.

“Can I start you off with some drinks?” She asks, setting menus in front of the two of you. Harry gestures for you to go first and you quirk an eyebrow before turning.

“Can I please get a large iced coffee with some honey? Thank you so much,” you add, looking Angie, her nametag reads, in the eye.

“And for you?”

“A large iced americano would be wonderful, thank you, love.” Flashing that award-winning smile at her, she writes down his order and heads back to the front.

“This place is really cute, Harry,” you gush. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

His chest tightens at your cute face looking at him from across the table, the amount of gratitude coming from you at all times filling him with light.

“‘Course, honey. You don’t have to thank me,” He earnestly tells you, placing his chin in his hand.

“I know, but I feel like I need to,” you trail off, looking at one of the names of the scrambles on the menu. Snapping your eyes back up to him, Harry can tell where you’re going with this.

“Please don’t,” he half-laughs, half begs.

“But it’s so easy,” you pout, grinning when he sighs and waves his hand for you to continue.

“Should I ask how strong the Weid scramble is going to hit?”

Groaning into his palm, Harry tries his hardest not to laugh, but can’t help one escaping when you kick him under the table.

“Satisfied?”

“Very,” you nod, looking over the menu once more. “Have you had the Thai noodle salad? That looks hella good.”

“It is ‘hella’ good,” Harry teases, using quotation marks in the air.

“Right then, love, what’re you getting?” You respond in a British accent, folding up your menu.

“Probably the Brussels sprouts salad, it’s my usual here.”

You open your mouth to say something before your drinks are placed in front of you, Angie asking if the two of you are ready to order. Harry goes ahead and orders for the two of you, delicately grabbing the menu from your hands to hand it back to her with a charming smile on his face. Watching her walk away, you grab your drink, lifting it for a cheers.

“To living,” you simply state, Harry repeating it with a look in his eyes you can’t quite name.

“So,” you start, adjusting your position in your seat for a second. “You said you’re writing for your second album, right?”

Harry nods, licking his lips as he pulls away from his glass, catching the way your eyes wander to his mouth.

“Sort of. I want to, you know, take a break, try and just have some fun, rather than jump straight into writing and recording again. At the same time, I really fucking miss it. Writing and being in the studio and getting all that out just feels so good.”

The way his accent wraps around his words makes it hard for you to focus on what he’s saying all the way, realizing he’s waiting on you to respond.

“I definitely think you could use some down time. But that also doesn’t mean you have to stop making music. Write out your ideas when they come to you, and when you feel like you’re ready, start pumping them all out. I’m willing to bet $100 that you already have at least a few songs under your belt, though, am I wrong?” You grin at the headshake Harry gives you, catching the blush on his cheeks. “I knew it! We all do, it’s impossible to just not write, but don’t worry about timelines or due dates. You can’t rush art.”

“God, it’s just so good to hear out loud, I feel like you already know me,” Harry shakes his head, pushing his hair away from his face with one hand.

“I’m pretty good at reading people, I’d like to say,” your arm raising above you as you stretch a little, tilting your head from side to side.

Seeing your neck arch and the way your veins move slightly under your skin causes Harry to have to clear his throat a little, taking a sip of his drink as he feels his forehead start to sweat.

“What kind of artists do you normally write for?” He blurts out, trying to figure out how to get to know more about you in a roundabout way.

“If you’re offering me a job, I’m walking out right now,” you warm, raising your eyebrows. “Kidding. I don’t know, really, I write for a lot of my friends, like I said, when they need help on some of their own projects, or if I’m hanging out in the studio I get pulled around the rooms for a different set of ears. Working with Khalid was one of my favorite experiences, though, he was so fucking cool.”

Harry’s eyes sparkle at this, perking up.

“Love Khalid. He is so talented, and hilarious. I swear, my stomach was aching after being with him for a little while. I only asked because I think I’m trying to figure you out a bit. I just wanna get to know ya,” He shrugs, fingertips tapping on his glass.

“I wish you good luck on that task, Harry, I really do. The first step in recovering is admitting you need help,” you solemnly nod, bursting out laughing when he rolls his eyes and ATTEMPTS to hide his smile.

Your food is placed in front of you suddenly, and you jump, glaring at Harry for smirking at your reaction. He couldn’t help it, you were like a little puppy, overexcited and always jumping from place to place. Harry starts eating right away, sending you a quizzical look when you sit with your hands in your lap, almost like you’re waiting for something.

“You going to start eating, honey?” He gently presses, snapping you out of wherever you went.

“Sorry,” you blush, grabbing your fork and shaking your head a little. “I don’t know what the fuck that was about.”

Fuck, yes you did, and Harry knew that. You were waiting for his permission, and that thought alone sent you into a daze. Closing your eyes around the fork, you fought off the urge to moan and tried to push the fact that he already holds so much control over you out of your head. Snapping them open, you find Harry’s eyes on you, the look in them dangerous. Clearing your throat, you whisper, “It’s really good,” which Harry responds with a simple hum, leaning forward on his elbows towards you.

“You tell me if this is too forward or too much, yeah?”

Your lips part as you nod your head, not really ready for what’s about to cross his lips.

“I’ve been noticing certain... things that you do and, well, are you a sub, darling?”

Your throat dries, unable to break eye contact or even speak, only nodding when he squints his eyes a little at you. Fuck, this was not happening, you thought, reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Like to hear that pretty voice of yours, yeah?” Harry urges you, hands fighting off the urge to hold your jaw in his fingertips.

“Yeah,” you sigh, taking a swig of coffee to think of something to say. “I’m going to assume you’re a dominant,” pausing to let Harry nod, jaw moving as he chews. You throw your hands up, leaning back in your seat.

“You are the complete package, Harry, shit.”

He laughs at this, covering his mouth quickly. “‘S’all you. A dream, really.”

Your heart flutters at this, shit, no, this is a FIRST date, you cannot be feeling like this. Taking a bite of your food, you are able to just sit back and look at him. Watch how he sticks his tongue out while he puts a bite in his mouth, something you’ve done since you were a kid for no reason. How his hands look almost sinful holding the white napkin to his lips.

“Staring at me, love,” he comments after a few minutes, his eyes looking at you sweetly, like he didn’t mind, but just needed to call you out.

“Merde, je veux te sucer,” you breathe out in French, banking on him not understanding you.

“Viliane,” Harry tuts, clicking his tongue at you. Before you’re able to answer, Harry is handing his card to the waitress who passed your table, asking for two boxes for your meals.

Your eyes snap to his, all the oxygen leaving your body as he brings your plate his side, getting ready to pack it up for you.

“W-Where?” Is all you manage, drinking the rest of your coffee, before setting it down on the table, a drop of honey falling down your lip. Harry can’t help but swipe it off with his thumb, slowly placing it in his mouth afterwards, not breaking eye contact, with you.

“I live nearby. That alright with you?”

Nodding slowly, you sit quietly in the booth as Angie comes back with the check and two boxes, legs bouncing excitedly as Harry packages the food up.

“Come on, lovely, let’s get out of here,” he tells you, holding you by your elbow as you walk outside, heading straight for the car. He doesn’t bother taking the top off, opening your door for you without a word and shutting it, almost sprinting to the driver’s side.

His hand finds your thigh immediately, rings shocking the delicate skin and making your muscles tense, his fingers quickly moving to massage out these aches.

“You wanna give me a safeword, pretty girl?” His voice drips with confidence, his hands moving closer to where you needed him most. His eyes keep flickering back to you while trying to focus on the road. His curls are a mess around his sunglasses, the brown hair swallowing up most of the eye ware. A pinch on your thigh reminds you that he expects an answer, shaking your body out slightly before answering.

“The stoplight system’s good. Green, I’m good, yellow, slow down or take a break, red, stop everything. What kind of dom are you, Harry?” You push, wanting to know what you’re getting yourself into. You had done a lot of kinky stuff in the past, and there were some things you weren’t a fan of.

“Mm, I’m relatively easy going. Not going to give you any rules, unless we’re playing and have a scene set up. But,” he pauses to exhale harshly, “I’m quite mean, love. I like to take control, pick you apart bit by bit until you’re just trembling under me, can’t say anything but my name. How does that sound, puppy? Tell me now how you like it.”

His voice sends shivers throughout your body and you moan quietly, biting your lip to try and stifle it. Harry’s words circle around your brain, your stomach tightening with need. All the air seems to escape you, but you know he wants an answer.

“G-good. I like it rough, dirty, just wanna please you,” you stutter out, chest rising and falling rapidly. You absent-mindedly rub your fingers against your neck, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe while thinking about what he’s saying.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he moans, removing his hand from your thigh to place it behind your neck, squeezing it in his grasp. He knows what you want, even if he’s driving, he’s able to pick up on any little signals your body makes. Your back arches as you let out a breathy moan, eyes slipping closed.

“Tell me, princess,” he starts, squeezing the side of your throat to make you open your eyes and pay attention to him. “What do you want to happen when we get back to my house? Don’t want to go too far too soon.”

“Fuck, Harry, I just really want to suck you off, please, please, please,” you beg, a tear actually falling from your eye as you look at him. His pupils dilate at your words, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows harshly, mouth suddenly dry,

“Y/N,” he growls, reaching a hand to squeeze his growing bulge in his pants. His tanned hands and dark rings contrast the bright color, adding to your ever growing list of things that Harry does that turns you on.

The car pulls up to a gate and you sit there for a few seconds before Harry is buzzed in, probably driving way too fast back to his house. Parking in his driveway, he finally releases his hand from your neck and exits the car, making his way around to open your door. Holding your hand as you exit, he places his hand on your low back to guide you into the gorgeous home, the size of it taking your breath away. Harry gives you no time to admire it, shutting the door behind him with a slam before bringing his hand up your chest to rest on your throat, slamming you into the wall. He slips a leg in between yours and takes your hip in his free hand, guiding you to start grinding on his thigh. Your face flushes with heat as he tightens his grip.

“Know you wanna suck me off, but will you cum for me first? Don’t want this pretty cunt to go to waste.”

Your head rolls back and hits the wall, hips stuttering at his words, eliciting a chuckle from Harry as he leans in, breath hitting your lips before he envelopes them, encouraging you to start grinding faster. His tongue runs along your bottom lip, prying them open to lick into your mouth, your moans being instantly swallowed by him. Pulling away slowly, he maintains eye contact with you as he removes his hand from your throat to slip two fingers into your mouth. Feeling your wet mouth on him, sucking his fingers with such need, Harry groans lowly, removing his fingers to kiss you even harder, hands making quick work of removing your shorts.

“Such a naughty girl, can’t even wait to get to the bedroom, just has to have me feel you right here, hmm?” Harry scolds, removing his lips from yours to suck a mark into your neck, fingers moving to feel your wetness through the cloth underwear. Your hands wrap around his curls as you shakily inhale, resting your forehead on his to moan out lowly.

“Fuck, Harry,” you sigh, feeling him rub along your folds through the fabric, pushing it ever-so-slightly inside of you. His mouth pulls away from you with a pop, only to bite down on the red skin harshly, working his way up to your mouth once more. He bumps his nose against yours and opens his mouth to move his tongue past your lips. Your head is spinning, breath ragged as you suck his tongue with yours, feeling the vibrations in your mouth when he moans lowly, pulling a whimper from you.

Suddenly, he drops to his knees, pulling the thong down with him. You swallow at the change in pace and allow him to help you step out of them.

“Wanna take your boots off, sweet girl?” He checks, kissing your inner thigh softly as you lean fully against the wall. You think for a second, these were pretty comfortable, pretty solid grip, why not stay in them?

“‘S okay. Perfect height for you,” you breathe, bucking your hips up. He doesn’t even wait a second to smack your pussy, grabbing your thighs to spread you even wider.

“Filthy, you are,” he growls, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit, a gasp immediately falling from your lips. He looks up at you and grins, licking long stripes through your folds, almost like he’s trying to remember how you feel. He takes his time catching your wetness slowly, despite the little gasps and moans coming from you. Flicking his tongue over your clit for a second, he pulls back to blow cool air on it, the motion causing your legs to falter for a second.

“Gotta stay still, okay? Can’t have you falling over,” he spits directly on your core as he says this, looking up at you with his jaw hanging slightly open, loving the way your hands go to your hair to find something to grab on. He smirks to himself, licking into you while his hands find your hips, pinching the delicate skin between his fingertips. He collects as much of you and his spit on his tongue as he can, swallowing around your clit after he sucks it into his mouth. The suction makes your hips fight to buck up into him, but you use all of your strength to stay still, causing your thighs to start quivering in his palms. Harry grins and scrapes his teeth along your clit, your loud moan going directly to his quickly hardening cock.

“Taste so fucking good, angel,” he groans, nose rubbing against your clit as he fucks his tongue into you, the soft muscle dragging along your walls and guiding your wetness into his mouth. The sounds coming from him are obscene, loud slurping, sucking, and spitting onto your trembling pussy.

“Fuck, Harry, I’m not going to last,” you cry out, feeling yourself start to clench around him. He grins around you, pulling away to thumb at your clit and look directly into your eyes.

“Mm, that’s not how good girls ask,” is all Harry gives you, slipping a finger inside and immediately curling it towards himself, finding your g-spot with ease. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking harshly while his tongue draws designs on the sensitive button.

“Please, Sir, can I come?”

This has Harry moaning against you, pinching your clit between his teeth as he slides another finger in, fucking into you faster. Your eyes roll back, one hand splayed against the wall, another in his hair to give you some sort of balance. He relentless massages and thrusts into your g-spot with his fingers, feeling you clench around them so tightly that his head starts to spin. “That’s it, puppy, ask me again,” he demands, the title you gave him sending shivers throughout his body. He sucks harder on your clit, somehow speeding up his fingers inside you. A moan vibrates against your center when you pull on his curls, your hips bucking up against his waiting hand.

“Sir, please please please can I come? I’ve been so good, haven’t moved,” you beg, gasping loudly when your legs start to shake noticeably. Harry pulls away, looking up at you and grunting out,

“You have been such a good girl, haven’t you? Go. Cum, now, right fucking now on my tongue.” A loud slapping noise is heard when Harry smacks your ass, the pain sending you over the edge. Your head hits the wall with a thud, but your moan drowns everything out, the guttural sound coming from your soul. Tilting your head back, you cum into his mouth, one leg slipping out from under you and Harry places it on his shoulder without a second thought, holding you up as you ride out your orgasm. The tightness in your stomach releases and your pussy trembles around his fingers, only encouraging him to continue the constant pressure on your g-spot.The strength of it knocks the wind out of you and sends electricity throughout your finger tips, your hips slowing down their rocking motion as Harry eases his fingers out of you. He continues to lick you clean before placing your shaky legs back on the ground together, trailing his hands up your body as he stands up.

“Thank you,” you breathe into his chest, holding on to his hips for balance. His chuckle vibrates against your cheek, and you feel him move your hair out of the way to kiss your shoulder.

“Of course, lovely. How you feeling?” He is all smiles, his voice gentle and caring as he breathes in your smell, leaving small kisses along your neck.

“G-good,” you stutter out, nudging his head to make eye contact with you. He pulls away after a second, one arm going around your waist when he notices how you’re practically falling over with how shaky your legs are. Smirking, he places his other hand on your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. Tasting yourself on his tongue was too much for you, whining into his mouth before pulling away.

“Can I suck you off now?” You ask shyly, using your best puppy dog eyes. And, wow, do they work. Harry groans, biting your bottom lip harshly before pulling away, not wasting a second before pushing down on your shoulders. You topple to the ground easily, landing surprisingly softly (thanks to Harry’s expert hands), on the hardwood floor. After helping him remove your shirt, you place your hands behind your back immediately and tuck your chin down, grinning to yourself when you hear the moan Harry let’s out at your position.

“Spoiled little girl. Gets everything and more that she asks for, hmm, yes?” Harry demands, tugging your chin up by his hands. His eyes are pointed, staring directly into yours, pupils blown out and hair a mess behind him. You can see the pieces stuck to his forehead from sweat, but his chin glistens with something that has to be you.

“Yes, sir, so good to me. Wanna make you feel good, please,” you beg, leaning closer into him, the difference in clothing setting you into a daze, seeing him fully dressed while you’re waiting on your knees in front of him, naked, panting, and pleading to have his cock down your throat.

“Greedy,” he sighs, taking his hand away from your face to slide off his shirt, tossing it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He keeps his eyes trained on yours, daring you to avert them as he unzips his pants, stepping out of them. He looks away for a second to pull of his boots, and you take your time admiring his thighs, because, fuck. They were thick, muscled, tanned, and the little tattoos on them were asking to be bitten, you made a mental note to do that later.

“Got a bit of a staring problem, love.”

Harry’s voice snaps you out of your daydream, eyes flickering back up to him, mouth dropping open when he’s bare in front of you, slowly stroking himself. You involuntarily make a little noise in the back of your throat, sticking your tongue out for good measure. Seeing Harry’s hips thrust up into his hand and his neck vein pop was confirmation enough for you, but you waited for him to put himself in your mouth, absolute torture you must say.

Harry finally takes mercy on you, moaning out, “God, you’re such a little cockslut, just want something in that fucking mouth of yours. Bet I could leave my fingers in there all day and you wouldn’t complain once,” when he eases himself into your open mouth.

You flatten your tongue on the underside of him, not breaking eye contact as you slide off his cock to lick at his tip with feather light touches, drawing figure eights along the top. Suckling lightly on just the head, you feel a spurt of precum land on your tongue, licking it up happily. Tearing your eyes away from his, you open up your throat to begin taking him deeper, feeling his hand immediately come to your hair as you do this.

“Yes,” Harry draws out, allowing you to take control for a moment. You wanted to suck him off, so who is he to tell you how to do it? The view is what is killing him the most, though. Your tits bouncing as you slurp him down, spit falling onto your thighs, your little bit of stomach pudge falling over as you completely lose yourself in making him feel good. That is what gets him to buck into your mouth, closing his eyes and biting his bottom lip, breathing heavily as he begins to thrust into you. You pull away after a moment, jerking him off steadily as you swallow and look up at him.

“You can fuck my throat. Don’t have much of a gag reflex, anyways. Wanna see how you like it, Sir,” you pant, not giving him any time to think before you take him back into your mouth, placing your hand on the wrist that’s in your hair, giving him another okay.

“God, Y/N, you’re heavenly,” Harry breathes, testing out the waters by doing some shallow thrusts, only then beginning to actually throat-fuck you. He places his other hand around your neck, essentially pulling you into his throat and choking you from both ways. Your eyes roll into the back of your throat and you place your nose against his belly, breathing in deeply. Harry pulls himself out of you, rubbing his cock against your cheeks.

“Feel so good,” he draws out, easing himself back into your waiting mouth, rubbing the head on the ridges on the roof of your mouth. He moans through closed lips and tilts his head back, giving you the chance to admire his strong jawline from this angle, body sculpted by Michaelangelo himself. He had no room to call you all these beautiful names while he looked this fucking good getting his cock sucked.

You start speeding up your bobs, keeping him deep in your throat and only picking up a little, the change in pressure earning you a tug on your roots when Harry pulls you to look up at him.

“Mm, you want me to cum, don’t you, dirty girl,” he grunts, a lazy grin on his now flushed face. His thumbs make their way to press on either side of your cheek, moaning lowly when he feels himself through the tissue.

You hum around him, using your tongue along the vein you can feel, looking up at Harry with such need in your eyes. You pull off for a quick second, gasping loudly while saying,

“Want you to come in my mouth so bad, want to taste you and make you feel as good as you made me,” Taking him back in your mouth and sucking him off with a vice-like grip.

“Fuck,” Harry half-laughs, half-moans. “You’re incredible. Gonna make me come so fast, you’re taking me so fucking deep.”

Not even a minute later, you feel him begin to pulse in your mouth, pulling back to just suck on the head, using your tongue to dip into the hole, and Harry cums with a loud shout, burying his cock down your throat as he shoots ribbon after ribbon of come into you. You keep your eyes at his face, remembering how his mouth looks wide open, his eyes pinched closed, hair making a perfect halo around him. His throat makes you want to cry, the veins popping out and slightly red. He stays in your mouth for a while, allowing you to suck him dry and soften slightly, before pulling out of you with a pop.

“Thank you,” you croak out, swallowing what’s left in your mouth and leaning into his touch, quite spent if you were being honest.

Harry had to look away for a second, moving his hand to hold your head while he caught his breath. You were right about being golden, your skin shone, and you just radiated everything good in this world, right after he had his cock balls deep down your throat nonetheless.

“You’re too much, beauty. Thank you, did such a good job,” he gushes, kneeling down. He takes your chin inbetween his fingers and kisses you softly, just barely moving his lips. He leans his forehead against yours and wipes your lip with his thumb, allowing you to suck the bit of cum still on your face off with a blush tinting your cheeks.

“Reminds me of this morning, a bit,” he giggles, laughing louder as you hit him in the chest, grumbling ‘dumb’. He pushes your hair out of the way and holds your face in his two hands, effectively shutting you up as you breathe in deeply, feeling strangely comfortable being this vulnerable with him this fast.

“Do you wanna take a bath with me right now? Know you were on shaky legs and this hard floor for a while,” he pouts, kissing your forehead softly. You nod slowly and he smiles, nodding against you before pulling away to unzip your shoes, placing them next to the wall before he’s picking you up with way too much ease, pulling a shriek from you.

“‘Sorry, love, your poor legs okay?” he asks, holding you to his chest with one arm, using the other to hold your thigh. He receives another nod to the shoulder and he nuzzles you, trying to see what’s happening.

“I’m okay, just tired,” you sigh, and he murmurs an ‘okay’ kissing your temple before allowing you to sink back onto him, making a mental note to ask you about it once you’ve got your breath back.

“Why don’t you go turn on that shower and wash yourself real quick with some warm water and I’ll have the bath ready when I join you, that okay?” Harry whispers, sliding you down slowly. He pushes you toward the large glass door and you smile back at him, your heart bursting with appreciation.

This one is going to change you.

A/N: and that’s a wrap !! lemme know if you guys prefer this kind of phrasing (‘you said’), or if you like ‘she said’, or ‘i said’ better. this is my first time working with a full story using y/n and second/third person kind of view, so pls bear with me. also !! i know some people aren’t really cool with weed. im a ~stoner~ (such a weird thing to type out lmao) so i smoke a lot, but if y’all aren’t comfortabke with me mentioning it p much every other chapter, let me know !! (it can even be anonymously sent in) hope you liked it, and let me know if you have any other requests for future chapters or just one shots💗💗

- lana💔