#but i figured we might have better luck at keeping it a mini

[carefreemonk]

aimlessarchery sent: "How're you holding up, stud?" Python slides an arm across Azama's shoulder as he speaks. The gesture attempts to remain casual as usual, but it fights to remain so—lighter with the weakness that comes with two weeks of famine, heavier with the weight of lives recently lost and the desire to not lose any more. "You picked an interesting time to lean into the whole asceticism schtick. It looks like it'll only get harder from here on out." Azama's sacrifice and Python's lack thereof both hang in the air. Keranes and Celephais's offer looms over it all. Python swats it all aside with a flick of the wrist. "If you start feeling swoony, I might not be close enough to catch you. Best to take it slow and steady, yeah?"

Azama is quiet for a long moment, time enough to wonder if the man were perhaps asleep sitting up. All the same, he leans subconsciously into touch, hums as a cat might purr at its owner's loving caress, and finally, he cracks one starry eye open.

"As good a time as any. No better time, I might wager."

Fingers steeple together in his lap.

"It isn't new to me. That doesn't mean it is easy, of course."

Hunger can be such a volatile force. It also sometimes brings a certain clarity with it, however, as one strives to detach mind from body. . .

Delthea's startle during the meeting surfaces unbidden. Unwelcome.

A pause. Azama hums, but this time the sound carries a lilt of uncertainty - of uncharacteristic hesitation as he ponders a peculiar train of thought.

Never mind. It's not that important.

"I don't blame you, you know. Self-sacrificial fools ought not be venerated. And!" So as to not mire them in the present, "It's like to be your fault if I start feeling swoony, you know! So I hope you take responsibility. Hmph!"

[dreadfutures]

Tevinter Nights: dramatic summaries

Back in March I decided to read a story from Tevinter Nights out loud to the DA FanFic server every Monday night. I figured with the number of stories, we'd hit August right as we finished - hopefully it'll be a big month for us fans!

I just love this anthology so much - there are many gems and entertaining bits among them, and they're criminally underrated. A lot of the DA side content is hit or miss for a lot of people, but seriously, some of these short stories could be published on their own without any knowledge of Thedas and still entertain!!

Here are the summaries I wrote ahead of each reading. :) All of the TN short stories are independent of each other, so take a look and perhaps you will find one you enjoy. I tried to keep them largely spoiler free :)

Also, check out @larkoneironaut 's Tevinter Nights art project! They're enjoyable in their own way :)

Three Trees to Midnight, by Patrick Weekes

After the Qunari take Ventus, prisoners are put to work chopping wood on the outskirts of Arlathan Forest. Myrion, a human mage, and Strife, a city elf who joined the Dalish, are shackled together at the ankle as a work pair. While their relationship starts antagonistic, they are quickly forced to work together to escape. This thrilling adventure is one of our first looks into the mysteries of Arlathan Forest, and the Antaam’s advance south—despite the rifts forming in the Qun’s ranks. Notably, Strife and his companion Irelin appear in another short story, Ruins of Reality, and Dragon Age: The Missing.

Down Among the Dead Men by Sylvia Feketekuty

We finally see Nevarra in this tale, and what better place to start than in the Grand Necropolis itself? Audric Felhausen, our POV character, is a city guard who is tasked with protecting a Mortalitasi mage during an investigation about some restless undead in the bowels of the Necropolis. We see how spirits and demons wander, and get stuck, in the bodies kept there -- and how possessing a body, even a long-dead one, can have significant effects on the spirit. On both a cultural and metaphysical level, this story gives us a TON of lore. And Audric, our hero, is equally curious and unsettled by what he learns. By the end you'll see why so many people are desperate for him to be a companion in DA4!

The Horror of Hormak by John Epler

Do you love Wardens? Do you miss the dark fantasy elements of Origins? Do you like the aesthetic of Dark Souls, with giant stone doors you push open with all your might to reveal a giant boss? That's the vibe that John Epler (DA4 Creative Director!) brings to this story. Wardens Ramesh and Lesha are tracking down a group of missing Wardens in Nevarra--a group, it turns out, that does not want to be found. For better or worse, Ramesh and Lesha plunge into the darkness and discover a horrifying truth with massive implications for the ancient history of Thedas... and the Evil Gods about to wake in DA4!

Callback by Lukas Kristjanson

Follow Sutherland and his crew of honorable adventurers back to where they began: Skyhold. Now defended and empty but for a handful of Chantry chosen caretakers, the fortress that once housed the Inquisition has gone dark, and Sutherland is tapped to investigate. We see Skyhold and by proxy the Inquisition itself from the perspective of one of the little guys, drawn to it because of ideals and encouraged to become their best selves. In doing so, we also see how the events of this world can shape Spirits in unexpected ways, with consequences for a world where the Veil is thin. Callback is full of callbacks and cameos from a surprising group from DAI, and an entertaining and perilous mini adventure in its own right. This is a love letter to Skyhold, to the Inquisition, and a meaningful counterpart to the memories of Skyhold kept in its frescos.

Luck in the Gardens by Sylvia Feketekuty

Hear a tale of glory and daring straight from a Lord of Fortune themself! A genderfluid, disguise-wearing, acrobat-turned-swashbuckler regales us with an adventure from the streets of Minrathous. Spy on secret meetings between Magisters, learn what the Venatori have been doing since Corypheus' defeat, and tremble in the face of things "past the Veil of our world," neither demon nor spirit. Who are the Lords of Fortune from Rivain? What lurks beneath Tevinter's streets? This may be the story that inspired many people's wishlist for the next Archon and the next Black Divine -- some beloved, familiar faces join our hero to face the terror in the gardens!

Content Warning: Body horror, Eldritch horror, mentions of Tevinter slavery

Hunger by Brianne Battye

Tevinter Nights returns to Warden business in Hunger -- or does it? Evka Ivo, a heroic warden, and her junior recruit Antoine, have to decide what counts as Warden business when there's not a Blight ongoing. As they make their way to Weisshaupt to answer their summons, they decide to make a small detour to help a village in need. Evka and Antoine are our beloved dwarf/elf romantics who feature in a DA Day short story - as well as in the DA4 lead-in comic, The Missing! Whether they may be companions or contacts to our protagonist remains to be seen, but surely they'll make an appearance after such tales of heroism and compassion!

Murder by Death Mages by Caitlin Sullivan Kelly

We return again to Nevarra from a different angle this time! An agent of the Inquisition, the multiplayer necromancer Sidony, is sent back to the home country she resents in pursuit of a killer. We learn not only about Sidony's past, but about the political landscape of Nevarra: do the Mortalitasi run the country as shadowy puppet masters? What do the common people, and the nobility, think of the death mages from the Necropolis? How are Mortalitasi trained? And what does necromancy look and feel like to the characters in Thedas? In this tale of alleyway chases and gossip-filled balls, we get another glimpse into a country we may very well visit in DA4!

The Streets of Minrathous by Brianne Battye

We return to Minrathous to learn what's become of the Venatori since Corypheus's defeat. Join Neve Gallus, special investigator (and important cameo in The Missing comic), as she navigates the alleyways of Tevinter's great city in search of a murderer. Through her eyes, we see how less-privileged mages are viewed, and how the law bends to the whims of the rich and magical in Tevinter. Neve is joined by Tevinter Templars in her investigation, and their final battle is certainly eye-opening for anyone interested in fighting mages... What lies beneath the Streets of Minrathous, if not the Cekorax? Well, you're about to find out.

The Wigmaker Job by Courtney Woods

Lucanis Dellamorte, Master Assassin (and rumored heir to the First Talon) of the Antivan Crows, prowls the secret passages and unsuspecting rooftops of Tevinter with his cousin Illario on a contract. The target? A member of the Venatori with a... peculiar hobby. From shady hotel rooms to a grand gala and fashion show, get a look at the best of the Crows doing what Crows do best. This is one of the best stories in Tevinter Nights by far.

Content Warnings: abuse of slaves, body horror, torture, gore, hair eating, lots of pretty gruesome (if cathartic) assasination, and possession

Genitivi Dies In The End by Lucas Kristjanson

The remnants of the Inquisition approach a new group of adventurers and task them with finding the secrets of Fen'Harel. The Antaam - or at least, part of it - give chase. And Genitivi Dies in the End.

Herold Had the Plan by Ryan Cormier

Our Lords of Fortune are on the run as a mission to steal an ancient amulet goes awry. They have the amulet, they have their daring escape (a Lord of Fortune knows no other kind, of course) -- but Herold had the plan for what to do with the damn thing, and Herold is gone. As Starkhaven guards give chase, only one Lord of Fortune will survive the night. But will he make it to the mysterious Squire who hired them in the first place? Join us for an adventure that will break your heart and keep you on the edge of your seat.

An Old Crow's Old Tricks by Arone Le Bray

Tevinter has sent their finest centuri to defend the shores of the Nocen Sea from potential Qunari invaders. They stake their claim on the area and set up camp, enjoying the esteem of being the proud defenders of Tevinter. But it's not the Qunari this group of soldiers should fear.

CW: blatant racism against dalish, off screen massacre of a Dalish clan, many gruesome cathartic assassinations described in some detail, hand trauma

Eight Little Talons by Courtney Woods

Antiva's crown is weak. Antiva has no army. And the Qun is at its doorstep. Antiva's Crows may be the country's only defense, but they must act fast. Caterina Dellamorte, the fearsome leader of the Crows, calls all Eight Talons to meet in secret and solitude to discuss and prepare for the threat at Antiva's borders. But perhaps they should begin by looking for threats at home. All Crows are assassins. But only one is a murderer.

Half Up Front by John Epler

A former altus who chose to be disowned into poverty to be with her elven lover takes the job of a lifetime: steal a precious, powerful, magical artifact from the Archon's Palace itself. It was never going to be easy, but the former Altus Vadis couldn't have predicted that a Minrathous heist would bring her all the way to a port in Rivain, loyal to the Qun. What at first glance seems like a classic cat burgling caper actually might tell us a lot about the forces at play in Thedas—how perhaps the people on the ground may or may not be following orders.

Dread Wolf Take You by Trick Weekes

[fleurywiththesave]

Arranged marriage and mattdrai (or larsdunn you write both wonderfully) ♥

p.s the meet cute one lived up to it's name! Adorable!

thank you so much! i really loved writing that one. hope you like this too!

44. Arranged marriage

"The collar is too tight," Matthew grumbles.

"Maybe it wouldn't be if you stop acting like you were trying to escape from the suit," Taryn snarks.

"You're a literal infant, what are you even doing here?"

"I'm thirteen, you idiot."

"Like I said." Matthew really doesn't think the topic merits further discussion. It's his suit for his wedding and if he says the collar is too tight, it's too tight and needs to be fixed.

His wedding. Jesus fucking Christ.

Their parents had the bright idea when he and Leon were both in still in bantam. Merge two mini hockey dynasties for the future of the sport or whatever. He's not sure if anyone ever asked Leon what he wanted, but they certainly didn't ask Matthew.

He turned eighteen in December. It's May now. In a couple weeks, Matthew will play for the Memorial Cup. At the beginning of June, he and Leon will get married. And at the end of June, he'll be drafted by the Oilers and follow Leon to Edmonton.

Does it even count as being drafted if the Oilers have to take him? Matthew flatters himself that he'd go high no matter what, but sometimes he lies awake at night wondering how things might look different if his professional fate weren't sealed to someone else's. He'll never know what he could have done all on his own.

He knows that's not Leon's fault, but it's hard not to resent him for it. Purely by virtue of being the oldest, Leon is the one whose skill has decided their future. Edmonton.

They've hardly spent any time together, with Leon having spent the last however many years hopping back and forth between Germany and the Canadian prairie and Matthew in St. Louis, then Michigan, then London. Matthew knows almost nothing about his soon-to-be husband. Well, he knows that Leon is gruff and unfriendly, not particularly chatty, and hates smiling.

Or maybe that's just how he is with Matthew.

There's supposed to be a family dinner tonight, after everyone's fittings are done. Matthew's sure it won't be at all awkward. Maybe he can bribe Brady to throw a stink bomb or something so they can all go home early and he can pretend for a little longer that none of this is happening.

No such luck, of course. As soon as they all get to the restaurant, their parents shoo them into some stupid little lounge in the back and won't let any of the siblings in, saying that they need a chance to "get reacquainted" before dinner. Does it count as getting reacquainted if you were barely acquainted to begin with, Matthew wonders.

Leon instantly throws himself onto one of the obnoxiously fancy chairs and refuses to even glance Matthew's way. He looks as grumpy as ever, and keeps checking his watch and tugging on his hair. But even around Leon, Matthew can only stand silence for so long.

"So," he says. "How was your first real NHL season?"

Leon snorts. "Seriously? We're going to talk hockey?"

"Do you have any better ideas?"

"How about we don't talk at all?" Leon suggests icily.

"Is that what we're going to do forever?" Matthew asks. "Not talk at all?"

"Works for me," Leon shoots back. "I might have to marry you, but I don't have to like it."

"None of this was my idea, you know," Matthew snaps. "Everything that's happening to you is happening to me and I don't like it any more than you do, but I also don't plan to be completely miserable for the rest of my life just because my husband is a total dick. So maybe, if you pull your head out of your ass long enough, we can at least figure out how to be teammates, even if we're not going to be friends." Leon looks completely shocked by Matthew's little outburst, but Matthew doesn't give him a chance to respond, just turns around and stalks into the main dining room.

Dinner is...interesting, to say the least. Thank god for Taryn, who can talk to anyone about anything and has the Draisaitls completely charmed in about three minutes. Matthew tries to focus on that, but he's almost painfully aware of the fact that Leon keeps looking at him. His expression is unreadable and eventually Matthew starts to feel like there's not enough oxygen in the room. He manages to mumble out an excuse me before he bolts for the bathroom, where he splashes some water on his face and commands himself to chill the fuck out.

He's not entirely surprised that the door swings open and Leon walks in, looking...kind of contrite, actually, when Matthew makes eye contact with him in the mirror.

"You're right."

"I am?"

"Yes," Leon says. "I was being a dick." Matthew turns around and looks at him warily.

"You say that like it's not your default setting."

Leon snorts at that, but it sounds amused, not bitter like before. "I really am capable of being nice. I know I haven't been, and that wasn't fair. This isn't your fault."

"No shit, Sherlock," Matthew says, but he tries not to make it mean. He must succeed, because Leon doesn't immediately take back everything he just said.

"We should try to make this work. We both want to win, right?"

"We will win," Matthew corrects him, and Leon nods decisively.

"Can we start over?"

He's tempted for half a second to tell Leon to go fuck himself, but that would kind of defeat the purpose of his whole speech earlier, so he shrugs and nods. "Sure."

Leon holds out his hand and Matthew shakes it. His hand is huge and warm, swallowing Matthew's up.

"I'm Leon," he says, mouth quirking up slightly at the corner. For the first time ever, Matthew feels a tiny flicker of hope.

"Matthew."

[marshallpupfan]

Marshall Merchandise Update - Rescue Wheels Edition™

Slowly but surely, the Rescue Wheels merchandise has been popping up in stores here in the USA. Naturally, I've been keeping an eye out for them, so it's time to show off what I've found so far!

First off, I decided to put a background on my monitor again, just to spruce things up. I also attempted some better lighting by using a lamp instead of my camera's flash. Some pics still came out a bit iffy, so I apologize.

In any case, here's the first piece of Rescue Wheels merchandise I got! Nearly a whole month ago, in fact. I seen it listed on Amazon and figured why not go for it, since stores here in the USA were taking a long time to get them.

The vehicle, itself... it's not my favorite, I'll say that. It's just shaped a little too box-like, but the flame graphics are cool, even if they are just stickers. Strangely, the ladder water cannon on the back doesn't move at all. If anything, I do like the figurine. Not the best, but I still like it.

Next, the usual plush doll, which we always seem to get upon each new subseries or movie. They decided to go back to the old style, which is kind of a shame, since I liked what we got for The Mighty Movie and Jungle Pups better. It just looked cuter, imo. Ah well.

Now that's one cool-looking pup. Super cute! 😎

Next, a new "Pup Squad Racer" vehicle! With not-so-good lighting that I didn't notice until I upload these pics. I probably should've put it on something to get more of that background in the shot. Also, ignore the dust under the monitor... I forgot to get rid of that. 😅

As you can see, this is yet another one of those smaller vehicles. I'm fully convinced these are indeed meant to be replacements for those True Metal vehicles... which is perhaps for the best, since the last few we got were kind of cheap. These are a nice alternative.

Unlike the True Metal vehicles, the pup's head is a lot bigger, so it's a bit more detailed and nicer. I dare say it's pretty cute! And...

...Hey, wait a minute. Who's big tires are those? That doesn't look like Marshall's vehicle...

Wait...

Is it...?

BOOMER??

That's right! Boomer, the villain pup of Rescue Wheels, got his own figurine and vehicle! I'll admit, that's quite rare, since PAW Patrol villains rarely ever get merchandise of any kind. It's only happened a few times in the past.

If you remember that character spotlight post I made of Boomer, then you might also recall that I became quite a big fan of this pup after watching Rescue Wheels! Thus, when I heard he was getting his own toy, I knew I had to have it. Admittedly, I think his vehicle turned out a bit nicer than Marshall's. Don't tell anyone I said that.

His figurine's also nice, if you ask me. Even as a toy, this pup looks quite cool... and cute! I'll certainly have to add this somewhere to my Marshall collection. He'll go nicely next to Claw. Two of my favorite villains, hanging out. We just need this in the cartoon now! lol

Oh, by the way, if anyone's interested in one of these, know that they're exclusive to Walmart (at least, here in the USA). They also made one for Roxi, which I believe is exclusive to Target. Just an FYI.

But wait... that's not all! Even more surprising than the vehicle...

Boomer also got a plush doll! Wow, you really lucked out, Boomer! At this point, I'm hoping the kids asks their parents for these and his figurine & vehicle... that way, Spin Master will see him as popular and we'll see him again someday soon. Hey, let me dream. lol

That is also one cool-looking pup! Boomer! Boomer! Boomer!!! 😁

Alright, that's all for now. And a good thing, too... after all these purchases, my poor wallet is probably screaming at me again. Too bad I'll likely make one or two more soon, since Rescue Wheels got its own batch of mini-figurines in mystery boxes, of course. Sadly, Boomer didn't get included in that, else Marshall wouldn't be the only one I'd be tracking down. It's still crazy to see him get what he did though! Man, if only Claw got his own plush doll instead of Sweetie...

So... what's next? I wonder how much longer until we start to see merchandise of Air Rescue? Then again, the USA hasn't even aired Rescue Wheels yet, so no doubt it won't be until next year. Good... that gives my wallet plenty of time to recover. lol

[twice-inamillion]

Meeting Her Parents

Smut (rough sex, deep penetration, creampie)

Chapter 176

It's the following day after the concert, and the Osaka part of the tour is finally over. This means some free time until the following two shows in about a week.

The Japanese members have decided to stay in Japan for the week and spend time with their families. The rest of the members are planning on going back to Korea and resting back home.

Having the groups divided in two, you decided to stay in Japan after having a conversation with Jihyo last night. "Make sure you keep them safe, okay?" Jihyo hugs you goodbye. "Yes, I'll try to keep from any trouble. Please watch over the rest of the members and the babies." As you're able to leave, she pulls you back in and says, "good luck," and smiles.

You watch as the rest of the members board the private plane and wave from the windows. The plane hatch closes, and you watch it leave from the hanger and go towards the runway. You wave a last goodbye as you watch the plane finally take off and head to Korea.

You head back to the hotel where Momo and Sana are staying. Once you arrive, all three of you grab your suitcases and check out.

"Let's get someone to eat; I'm starving," says Momo. "Yes, let's have a small breakfast," says Sana as she holds onto your arm. "Okay, let's go."

You drive to a local shop that both Momo and Sana are comprised of and begin to drive. Once you get there, all three of your order a nice meal and talk about the concert that just passed.

After breakfast, you arrive at Momo's house, walk her to the door and tell her to message you when she's ready to get picked up. The front door opens, and you are greeted by Momo's mom. You greet her a good afternoon, "Good afternoon, ma'am. I'm here to drop off Momo today. Here is my number if you need to reach me, I'm available for you at all times," as you give her your business card. She gladly accepts your card and wishes you farewell as you return to the car. "Good luck, oppa!" shouts Momo.

You walk back to the car and think about what Momo said, "Did you tell Momo what happened?" You can tell she did avoid your look, "tee hee, it slipped ."

"Haha… it slipped. I don't think you said it by accident." She looks at you with an innocent face, but you know how she really is and finally breaks character. "Okay… it didn't slip. I found it funny and couldn't keep it to myself, so I might have told Momo and others." You nod your head in disappointment and just leave Momo's driveway.

You stop to get a gift for her parents since this is your first official visit. You'd wish you met in better circumstances, but now you can't do anything about it.

As you get closer to Sana's house, you begin to get nervous. "Do you have some pointers for when I meet your parents? I don't want to make it any worse than I already did." Sana thinks momentarily and says, "well… my dad is not a bad guy. He's a doting parent since I'm his only child. With my mom, I don't think she'll give you a hard time since I'm a mini version of her. If I tell her you're okay, she'll accept you. Just be yourself and show them your good points."

Taking this to heart, you finally arrive at her house. You work your way to the passenger door and open the door for "thanks, babe" as she kisses you on the cheek. "Please don't mess around. I'm already nervous as it is."

Walking with a gift, Sana pushes the doorbell, and you both wait for it to open. It feels like forever as you wait for someone to open the door, wishing it to be the mother rather than the dad.

The door opens, and you see a slender figure, "welcome home, my baby," as she goes to hug Sana. "I'm home, Okāsan." After a warm reunión, Sana introduces you to her mom. "This is my manager… well, my Oppa" as she tightly hugs your arm. "Nice to meet you. I'm sorry that we are meeting under these circumstances, but thank you for inviting me," as you give a slight bow.

With Sana's mom inviting you in, all three of you walk into the living room and sit on the couch. The three of you discuss how Sana is doing in Korea and with the tour. Her mom mentions how proud she is of Sana and how she's been watching her appearances on tv. You let her know she's been doing her best work and positively influences the group.

Happy to hear the positive feedback back on her; you see how much she cares for her, making you feel worse inside with how you ruined her daughter. “Okāsan, where is Otōsan?”

"He's in the back prepping to cook some meat." "Really? I'm going to go say hi. Come with me Oppa" Sana grabs your arm. You both walk towards the back of the house and see her dad at the countertop preparing some meat. "Otōsan… I'm home," as she walks towards him. "Sana, you're back. Welcome home," hugging his daughter.

"I want to introduce you to my Oppa" and immediately bow out of respect. "Nice to meet you. Thank you for coming and meeting us today. I hope my wife was able to greet you." "Yes, thank you for inviting me today."

"I'm preparing the meat for today's dinner, so why don't you guy me and help me cook it while the girls work in the kitchen."

"He's excellent when it comes to cooking, Otōsan. He won't disappoint." "Grab an apron, and let's get started."

With Sana in the kitchen with her mother, you are alone with her dad. Trying not to disappoint you, prepare your A-game and take off your jacket. Putting on the apron, you wash your hands and ask Sana's dad what to do.

"Sana said you're good at cooking, so I'll let you show me what you got."

———————-

"Do you with Otōsan is going to get along with Oppa?"

"You know how he is; he's just worried for you. Who would have expected we would catch you two in the act."

"I'm so embarrassed. I thought I locked the door like usual."

Sana's mom looks suspiciously at her, "so you're saying that you both are currently active?"

"Well… you can say that. We have sex here and there. I'm usually the one that asks for it."

"Sana, are you trying to say that you found the one? Someone to make your wish come true?"

Getting caught off guard by her mother's comment, "yeah… I think I might have found someone to make me a mommy."

"If you think he's the one, I will give you my full support. Your dad will be okay with it if you're serious."

"Well… it's not like dad can say anything about it. I mean, you did the same thing with him, right?" Sana's mom doesn't respond, which answers her question.

—————

After spending a while with Sana's dad, you feel he is okay with you. There are times here and there that he watches and asks you about your bbq methods.

Wanting to get on his good side, you give him step-by-step instructions on your bbq techniques. "Sana was right; you're an excellent cook." Happy to hear a positive comment from him means a lot or you. "I'm the main one that cooks for the members. I make them nutritious food.

"I'm happy that Sana gets to eat some delicious food. In my book, you don't seem to be a bad guy. I can tell you care about your group by the way you cook. Too bad we had to want on you in that compromising position."

"I'm sorry that you saw that, sir; I don't have any words to tell you how sorry I am."

"Well… my wife and I were trying to surprise our daughter, but we were the ones who ended up surprised to find you both being intimate with each other."

Before you can respond, Sana comes out from the house, "the food is ready. Mom is calling you both inside." "We'll be there soon," responds Sana's dad.

—————

After having dinner and engaging in some talk and drink, it was finally time to discuss the main reason for the visit.

"So… Oppa and I wanted to explain the situation when you both walked in on us."

"Yes, again, I want to apologize for what you both saw that night and let you know that I respect your daughter and treat her with respect."

"Yes, Oppa and I have been in a sexual relationship for a while," says Sana.

"Oh? Does that mean it's serious?" asks dad.

You try to respond, but you're cut off by Sana. "At first, it was steaming hot sex, but after a while, we decided on breeding sex."

"Wait…. We? There is no we; it's all you," you say internally, not knowing what Sana is talking about.

"Ohh, then this means it's really serious. Are you both planning on getting together?" asks the mom.

"Yes, we plan on getting pregnant but haven't succeeded. I don't know what to do. Maybe I'm doing something wrong?"

"What do you mean something wrong? Does he have a weak libido, or is he incompetent?" asks dad.

"Wait… my… libido is pretty good, and I'm sure I'm not incompetent. I know that for a fact."

"Have you gotten tested? "Unfortunately, some men are unable to produce good seed," says Sana's dad.

You feel offended by what they're suggesting and want to tell them that they have the wrong idea, but you do not want to make it worse than it already is, so you try to calm down and relax.

"Dad… don't say that. Oppa is really good at sex, and there is nothing wrong with his seed. If we wanted to, he could have bred all of us by now." She stops and covers her mouth, realizing what she has done.

"What do you mean by that, honey," asked Sana's mom.

"Nothing, I… I didn't mean anything."

"Don't lie. You said something about having "bred all of us by now" what does that mean?

Sana looks at you with a regretful face, knowing that she might have made this worse. At this point, it's better to come out clean so you give her a nod. "Well… I'm not the only one he's having sex with… there are other members."

You see their surprised face as they try to guess who those members are. "How many members?" asks Sana's mom. Sana holds her arm up and shows her hand, "five so far. Well, that I'm aware of." Her father's face is one of disbelief and he can't process what he just heard. "How can you handle that many girls?" asks Sana's father.

"It's because he's perfect. He's strong and has a lot of stamina, plus his cock is huge. When I took it for the first time, I nearly fainted from how big it was. Don't even get me started with how he got the three of them pregnant, haha. It's a funny story."

"Sana… wait…" unable to keep Sana from spilling out more information.

"What do you mean he got three of you girls pregnant? Does it mean that you have kids?"

"Yes, I have kids. Four to be exact and they are lovely little girls. And yes I had sex with multiple members, and your daughter is one of them. I won't hide it anymore and I won't apologize for it either. I respect you both as Sana's parents and I hope you respect me and my choices."

"Not bad. A guy who can stand up for himself. That's a good quality to have, especially for someone who's with my daughter. She's a handful for sure," says Sana's mom.

"What do you mean?"

I mean that you're more than qualified to handle my little girl. We both know that Sana and be a bit much at times. Trust me, raising her was not easy, she was friendly with everyone and would often say how she wanted to be a mommy since I could remember. Letting her go and pursue the life of an idol was a hard choice and would often worry me. I was afraid that someone might lead her to just have sex with her and toss her aside, but you're different; you have a reason to stay and commit to a family. I like that. I might not be in the best situation with you having multiple women, but I can clearly see that you can satisfy my daughter sexually and with your seed."

"Are both not upset?

"We are surprised for sure and a bit overwhelmed with what Sana said, but if you can make her wish come true, then we won't stop her. That's what you want, right Sana?"

"Yes Okāsan, I really want to have a baby and he's the one I choose to do it with."

"Okay, if that's the case then let's celebrate."

More drinks are poured and everyone gets over the top. You get to see the real side of Sana's parents as you drink with the family. You notice that Sana's mom is flirty when she drinks and asks playful questions that you would expect.

"How how big is your cock?"

"Okāsan, that's wired don't ask him that."

"I just want to know why the rest of your members like him so much. It must be big if that's the case."

"Don't answer that oppa, she gets all silly when drunk."

"Don't say that, dear. You'll scare him off. How about you don't tell me but show me instead? I want to see how much you're packing."

"I don't think that's a good idea. Your husband might get upset."

"He's fine. After a couple of drinks, he's out of it. Come and show us. I need to ensure she's getting satisfied," as she tries to grab onto you.

"It's this big" Sana tries to demonstrate your size using her hands.

"Oh, maybe 6-7 inches? Not bad."

"No, more like 8 or 9 inches," says Sana shyly.

"Wow… you must be really hung down there. If only I was younger…."

"Mom… he's mine. You have dad already. "

"I know… but his body looks so good, especially his arms; they're so big."

"Don't say that. Maybe that's why I'm like this. I learned it from you. Hearing you and dad have sex all the time…."

"I'm sorry dear… I didn't know that. With your dad working out of town, we tried to get it on every time he returned. Your dad was a very healthy man and someone who could keep up with my high libido," as she began to massage her husband's thigh.

"Eww… not in here; Oppa is here right now," whines Sana.

"You're right. Let's call it a day. Spend the night the both of you; it's too late to drive."

"Okay, we'll stay."

"Come on, Otosan, you're coming with me tonight. All this talking has made me horny," as Sana's mom pulls her husband by the hand to their room. They close the door and immediately, you can hear some giggling coming out from there.

"I'm sorry, Oppa that you had to see this."

"It's okay; they love each, which is good."

"Well… watching my parents all lovey-dovey has gotten me in the mood, too. So maybe… maybe you can spend the night in my room with me?" as Sana places with her fingers.

"But we're still a bit drunk…."

Sana walks towards you and leans on your ear and says, "wanna fuck me in my high school uniform?"

You nod and she skips to her room, telling you to wait for her signal. As you wait for her, you clean up as much as possible, throwing away beer cans and other alcoholic drinks.

Thinking of walking into Sana's old bedroom felt nerve-racking since you didn't know what to expect. Suddenly you see the door slightly open. "I'm ready" is the only thing you hear.

"Sensei, I've been a bad girl… my skirt is too small, and maybe you might need to teach this student of yours how to be a proper girl" she slowly lifts up her skirt, revealing her thick thighs and no panties on.

Watching Sana in her old high school uniform is getting you hard. "Do you think my uniform still fits me well?" she asks.

"Yes, you look amazing."

"How about now?" as she sits on the bed and slowly opens her legs, revealing her leaking pussy.

"Perfect."

————

The night continues as both rooms in the house are filled with sounds of ranging sex. Every once in a while, you can hear Sana's mom moan as she's getting fucked in the other room. You try to mask the voices from the room next door by thrusting into Sana even harder.

"Ahh… ahhh… fuck me deeper," moans Sana as you grab her by the pigtails. You watch as her ass jiggles every time your body crashes into her. Fucking Sana in her high school uniform is a hot and new experience.

"Sensei, sensei, I've been a bad girl. I need you to punish me until I become a good girl. Please fuck me harder!"

You push her down onto the bed and press your hand on her back. You slap her ass, one hit after another, until its red. "Is this what you want?"

"Yes! Yes! Just like that, now punish me with your seed! Make sure that my womb only listens to you, only you."

You pull out your cock and slap it on her right butt cheek, covering it with precum. Once you are ready, you align it and thrust it back inside with one try. Sana grunts from being stabbed by your cock and tears flow down her face from the pleasure and pain. "You're going to mess up my womb; your cock is too big."

With your cock all the way inside you place your body on top of her and whisper, "make sure you take my whole load," as you release a tsunami of cum into her womb. "Hmm… it feels hot. I missed this feeling. I can feel your swimmers making their way inside of me."

Many more rounds continue until you need to catch your breath. You make your way into the kitchen in the middle of the night. "Busy night, huh" you turn, trying to figure out where the voice is coming from.

Sana's mom turns on the light and you see her sitting down on the chair, drinking a cup of orange juice. "I'm sorry, i didn't see you."

"It's okay, Sana's dad feel asleep so I decided to come out and take a breather. Seems like you're doing the same thing. Having fun with my little Sana?"

"You could say that."

"Good for her; I'm happy she found the one to make her wish come true."

"Better me than someone else, right? Also where are the cups?"

"Ohh… on the top shelf."

You go for the top shelf and grab a cup to serve yourself some juice before back for another round but didn't realize that Sana's bathrobe would fit you short.

"Wow… Sana wasn't lying your really big."

"What do you mean?"

"Umm… that robe you are wearing fits you quite short, and I can see your cock."

You just leave from embarrassment and rush back to the room. Sana laughs as you tell her what just happened. "Haha that's funny. My mom is getting to know you quite well." "I was going to die, its never happened to me before." "Don't worry about it and come back to me for another round."

——-

Sana's mom knocks on the door, "kids, breakfast is ready!" She waits a couple of seconds, but there is no answer.

"They're not answering. Should I go in and see if they are okay?"

"Just let them sleep. They must be tired from playing all night," says dad.

"Let's check, just in case."

Both parents knock and wait a moment before opening the door. They are surprised to see the position of the two people in front of them.

"Oh my, they must have been really busy" says mom as she sees you spooning Sana with your cock inside of her.

"Is that a bulge? Wait… does he have a morning wood while being instead of Sana?"

They look at each other and laugh as they close the door and let you both sleep.

[invisibleraven]

Oh no, she's hot

Reggie x Kayla x Julie (did we say that was Royal Purple?)

When Julie entered the LBGT Alliance at UCLA she never expected to find love. She had expected finding people who had similar life experiences, doing outreach, planning Pride events, and offering peer counselling when they could.

She never expected Reggie.

Reggie who was a year older and was openly bi, but confessed he'd only figured it out in the last year, so a few of his awful relatives teased him about going through a 'college phase'. Reggie who had a few dates with guys and girls, but confessed he was honestly looking for someone to connect with. Who was quiet about his family, but loud about his band. Who flirted with ease but no seriousness, just loving to make people blush and scoff at his over the top lines.

Reggie who Julie found herself falling for every meeting.

Then, to make matters worse, he came in one day, glowing and going on and on about his date the night before with Kayla. She was a dance major, openly queer, and apparently made brownies to die for.

"She has class right now, but if things keep going well, I'll bring her to the mixer next week," Reggie promised, blushing and grinning when the other members slapped his back and teased him about how smitten he already appeared.

Julie tried to be happy for him, really she did. Reggie was a great guy; he was sweet, talented, smart (Julie was relying on him to get her through entry level Calculus honestly), and he deserved to find someone who made him light up like Kayla did.

But she was also a little jealous, a little heartbroken, and resolved to either not go to the mixer or to get spectacularly drunk at it and throw herself at the first cute girl she saw.

The next Friday night, Julie decided, fuck it, she was putting on her favourite rainbow crop top and going to the mixer, broken heart be damned. She got herself a cheap drink, and started grooving on the floor of the bar the Alliance had rented out for the night.

She danced with Lilly, the adorable nonbinary person from her English class, twirled around with Mac, who was in his drag queen persona and looked fierce as fuck, and even did a turn or two with Justine who had been eyeing her since the fall but Julie had never given much thought to other than thinking she was super nice.

But then she saw Reggie walk in with a girl on his arm.

"Oh no, she's hot," Julie moaned. "Of course she's hot."

Kayla was indeed hot in her purple pastel wig, her shiny holo mini dress and mega watt smile. Reggie was looking at her like a man besotted, and Julie wondered if she could sneak off to the bar for another drink before he spotted her.

"Julie!"

No such luck. She plastered a smile on her face instead. "Reggie!" she pulled him into a half hug. "Looking good as always."

"Not as good as you darlin'," he said, her blush rivalling his own. "This is Kayla."

"So you're the infamous Julie," Kayla smirked. "I swear this one won't shut up about you. Good thing I'm not the jealous type."

"You're poly, isn't that the antithesis of being jealous?" Reggie asked.

"Not always," Julie corrected. "I'm no stranger to the open relationship myself but I still get jealous all the time."

"Well Miss Molina, you wanna dance?" Kayla asked. "I would love to talk to someone who really gets it." She pointed at Reggie. "This one is trying, but he's new to it, so it's harder for him."

Dammit, she just had to be charming and nice too didn't she?" Julie thought. Plus the fact that she was poly... well Julie's blush wasn't fadig any time soon. "As long as Reggie doesn't mind."

"Oh yes, boo hoo, I have to watch my gorgeous girlfriend dance with one of the hottest girls here, whatever shall I do?" Reggie said sarcastically. "Go have fun, but you two better save a dance for me later."

"We just might!" Kayla called out before dragging Julie to the dance floor. The girl had moves too, and Julie found herself laughing and having a ball as Kayla twirled her around, the two of them getting along like a house on fire.

"I suppose we should go back to Reg before he starts to pout!" Kayla yelled over the music. "And see if he'll buy us both drinks!"

"I bet if we pouted back enough he would!" Julie giggled.

Of course Reggie bought them drinks, and Julie begged off the next dance to sip hers slowly. Watching Reggie and Kayla on the dance floor, she still felt that pang of jealousy. But this time it was to be out there with the both of them.

Only when her drink was finished, Reggie dragged her out with him, hamming it up while Kayla hit the bathroom. Then the next dance she was caught between them, and she was sure her heart would combust with how right it felt.

She had to get out, and when the dance finished, she thumbed towards the door. "Gotta get some fresh air!" She bolted, leaning against the brick facade outside, breathing in the cool breeze, and wondering if she should cut her losses, just go home.

"Julie?"

She turned, and there was Kayla, flanked by Reggie. "You okay Jules?" he asked kindly.

"Drank too much, got kind of dizzy, think I need to call it a night," Julie lied.

"Well how about we take you home then?" Kayla offered.

"You guys can stay, have fun," Julie waved them off. "It's not far, I can get an Uber, or even walk."

"Julie all my drinks have been non-alcoholic, I'm good to drive," Reggie said.

"And we'd worry about you if we didn't make sure you got home safe," Kayla added.

Julie sighed, knowing there was no getting out of it. "Fine, let's go."

Reggie offered her his elbow, with Kayla gleefully taking the other, walking towards his truck. "Honestly I'm glad for the short night," he said. "The mixers aren't really my scene."

"Then why did you go?" Julie asked as she hopped up between them in the cab of the vehicle.

"I wanted you and Kayla to meet," Reggie replied, and started driving. "I figured you two would hit it off."

Kayla grinned. "And we did! Good thinking baby." She leaned in and pressed a sticky kiss to Julie's cheek. "At least I think so."

"Um I... yes, we did," Julie turned to Reggie. "Are you okay with that?"

He smiled. "I told you, I set it up. I like Kayla, I knew she'd like you, and well, you do. Win win."

"I like you too," Julie whispered.

"Told you so!" Kayla crowed. "You owe me five bucks!"

"Yeah yeah," Reggie grumbled, handing over the bill. "I like you too Julie. So maybe tomorrow we can sit down and figure out how this can work out for all of us?"

"Sounds good," Julie grinned.

They dropped her off soon after, and well, how good it would work was confirmed by the toe curling good night kisses Julie got before going inside.

And by the next mixer she could claim to have the hottest partners there, even if Reggie and Kayla liked to joke that they did too.

Unexpected? Sure, but Julie was so glad for it, because the unexpected led her to a love that was extraordinary, and that was better than any expectations she ever had.

[braveparanoiac]

"Need a hand?" starter prompt, sent by @crsdtm

"No, no no," Stanford waves a dismissive hand without much thought at the stranger's voice, thumb pressing down on the top of his pen over and over. Click click click click - he could've sworn he picked up something around here. There was a peculiar reading, usually meaning some form of anomalous activity was about. Strange for it to be so high in the Midwest - he had figured Oregon was the only hotspot. Exceptions happen, of course. Sometimes one or five might pop up here and there. Brighton, however, seems filled to the brim with very similar readings. Hopefully the readings can be identified soon - it took some convincing to rope Stan in to explore this town. The ocean is nowhere. This was not part of the plan. Ford's not about to ignore such high readings, though. ...Suppose it's better to ask than to keep it to himself, though. Have to word it carefully - people might turn away from him if he outright said 'I think your town is infested with cryptids or otherwise supernatural creatures.'

"Wait- actually... yes. I think you could provide a bit of aid, if you are willing." The clicking of his pen slows as he glances - down. Little girl, probably about his niece's age, maybe younger, maybe stubborn - did she not plan on leaving him alone when he said no the first time? ...He's starting to get sidetracked. "Er... Stanford Pines," he holds out his hand in offering - the wrist containing an odd looking wristwatch with a mini satellite dish he was watching before. "I am a -" a paranormal investigator? Scientist in all things 'weird?' Cryptid and alien enthusiast? Last he checked, that is a surefire, bonafide way to get called a nutjob - "...I am simply... passing through." Too vague, but maybe good enough. "...My brother is restocking our supplies before we head out on the road. I figured it be best to take in our surroundings and observe the area on my own." Which, isn't entirely a lie. Stan might be pickpocketing stores. Good lying means basing it upon some of the truth, and not revealing everything. "You... wouldn't happen to be a local, would you?" Could be in luck. She could take him to wherever these energy readings are highest. If not, well, he knows where not to look.

[lastoneout]

man im about to convert back to being religious just so i can pray for you. just like. a 2 month time span at LEAST where we don't see a post about you getting some new illness

(on a serious note, good luck. sounds like you're really having a rough go of it right now, I hope your health becomes more manageable in the near future)

Thank you, and yeah it's been a weird couple of months but at this point I'm just chalking it up to me being really stressed about a potential surgery I might need and that stress really fucking up my immune system. Like given that up until now I hadn't been sick with anything since 2019(yay masking everywhere and not having a job and being a disabled introvert who likes staying home) and these all being things that can Just Happen To You rather than stuff you catch from other people I figure this has to be the recent stress. Either that or I got asymptomatic covid somehow and it fucked me up, but idk, two infections and gastritis? Seems like a stress thing.

I think I'll be feeling a lot better once I can talk to my neruosurgeon and get some of my questions answered, I'm a big "nothing freaks me out like The Unknown" so I'm not good at just sitting around and waiting to get answers, actually having the answers will likely give my body the break it needs to really get it's shit back together.

Anyway sorry for the mini-vent/dump, I really appreciate the well wishes and I do think things are gonna turn around, just gotta keep on trucking until Thursday T_T

[aceofthegreenajah]

WOT Season 2 Predictions

MASSIVE spoilers ahead y’all

Information used on this: Memories of how books 2-4 went. Any info on season 2 I've come across on tumblr.* Story structure for how an 8-episode season is structured**

inciting incident, establishing the 'season question'. Season 1 was 'who is the dragon reborn'.

new normal; fun and games. Now that the inciting incident has happened, we live in our new situation for a while.

Story turn 1: something changes, things get even realer.

Midpoint: a visually explosive mini-climax

New normal 2: now that story turn and midpoint have changed things, what now? Might be a bad guys closing in episode.

Story turn 2; dark night of the soul - we lose things, things get worse, new information comes out.

Climax - season question is answered. Might be the explosive finish.

Resolution - finishing up what is left, telling us why we need to watch the next season.

Now: I've way overbloated some episodes in this outline I have. I've also failed to expand Moiraine's storyline sufficiently. AND I'm super unsure where to slot Thom and Verin. Verin could be in any plotline, or even switch mid-season, and Thom could be anywhere except with Perrin. (Give me your ideas, please!)

Season’s plot question I expect to have something to do with Dragon Stuff again, or as a second choice, Ishamael and/or forsaken. But I haven’t figured out how to form it. Ideas welcome. Now onto my outline:

Episode 1:

A plot: Perrin takes Loial to a stedding. We find out more about Loial; find out he can't be healed without the dagger; join the Hunt. Ending the episode with Perrin meeting Elyas and realizing they're alike.

B plot: Egwene and Nynaeve have arrived at the tower and are at odds. They're dealing with Rand's 'death' in very different ways - Nynaeve by hating Aes Sedai even more, Egwene by distancing herself from thoughts of home and moving on towards Aes Sedai training with full force. They're inducted as novices, but explained by Siuan that they're being fast-tracked to accepted.

C plot: Moiraine sets out to track Rand by ta'veren shenanigans. Rand sleeps and dreams of Ishamael, who reminisces about the past and how they always fight. Rand insists Ishamael is dead - Ishamael laughs and Rand wakes up with the heron burned into his hand.

Other: Ishamael wakes the forsaken. Mat is held at the white tower, and dreams of Manetheren and being at war.

Episode 2:

A plot: Elyas explains wolfstuff, they use the wolves and wolfdreams to track PF. Might see Hawking's statue and find the dead Myrddraal. We get to know the rest of the hunting party better. Faile is either part of the hunt from the beginning or becomes a part of the hunt!  

B plot: Siuan explains Nynaeve's block and Egwene's dreaming abilities. They meet Elayne, find Mat. Mat vs Gawyn and Galad? Egwene keeps dreaming of Rand, meets wise ones in her dreams***.

C plot: Rand kills a whole group of darkfriends a'la book 3 (That is just such a good scene to introduce his declining mental state. I'm not sure if it fits here but I want it to fit somewhere!). Rand ends the episode by falling asleep against the portal stone and finding himself Somewhere Else.

Other: Forsaken meeting and/or darkfriend social.

Episode 3:

A plot: Rand has been in the portal stone world for a while. Ishamael appears in his dreams and insists he can get Rand out and/or teach him to channel, Rand always refuses. Runs into Grolm and Selene. He has to channel on purpose to get out of the world.  

B plot: Accepted trials - at least Nynaeve, possibly also Egwene.

C plot: Perrin runs into whitecloaks who are holding Bain or Chiad captive. Manages to set her free, rest of the Aiel show up to rescue them from the mess. Bain and Chiad owe him a debt, whitecloaks hate him with the passion of a thousand suns. We find out why the Aiel are on this side of the spine.

Other: Mat gambles around; his luck is explored; in trying out his luck and figuring out how it works he ends up finding the red stone doorway and enters it.

Episode 4:

A plot: Rand arrives in Cairhien - the heron mark blade & Selene's presence convinces everyone he's super important. He sees the sa'angreal on the way in. He uses the misunderstanding as a way to get into libraries to get more prophecy information and runs into Moiraine AND Verin. Ishamael keeps sending him dreams about how actually destroying the wheel is great, you should try it, Lews Therin! Verin confronts Moiraine like she does to Moiraine and Siuan in book 2, and Moiraine HAS to take her into her confidence.

B plot: Mat in the red stone doorway.

C plot: Egwene keeps having Dreams about Rand, one in which a paranoid Rand tries to kill her. Min confirms he is still alive. Liandrin offers to take them to him. As the girls prepare to leave, they give Mat (who is out of the doorway and SUPER determined to run away right now) a letter to deliver for Elayne's mom.

Other: Perrin has a wolf dream about forsaken. Padan Fain delivers dagger to Seanchan.

Episode 5:

A plot: Perrin arrives at Toman head, shit's fucked y'all. Has a wolf dream where a paranoid Rand tries to kill him. We explore the Seanchan to build up how bad it is if the girls get captured.

B plot: Rand trains with Lan in the sword. Rand / Moiraine / etc are attacked in Cairhien, Cairhien descends into chaos. Rand freaks out over the little dead girl a'la book 4, trying to heal, except he can't, doesn't know how, and she dies in his arms. And you can't heal death Rand, stop trying Rand.

C plot: The girls show up at Toman Head. Either they are betrayed by Liandrin, or we incorporate Juilin Sandar somehow and he betrays them a'la book 3. Egwene is captured.

Other: Mat is delivering the letter, finds out shit's fucked in Andor and there's a plot to kill Elayne. Leaves for Toman's head asap.

Episode 6:

A plot: Life as a damane.

B plot: Rand finds out he needs to go to toman head somehow, Flicker flicker flicker.

C: Mat might meet Aludra on the way?

Episode 7:

Plotting rescue plan, Mat arriving at Toman head. Thom reunites with Elayne if he hasn't already. Rescue starts, with Mat running with fireworks as a distraction, Nynaeve collaring a sul'dam. Faile falls into sleep with the sleep ter'angreal and Perrin is off to rescue her?

Episode 8:

Rand arrives in Toman head just as everything is going to shit. Everyone else is off rescuing Egwene or possibly in Perrin's case Faile. Mat blows the horn at some point when they're in deep shit, and Ingtar sacrifices himself likewise. Rand duels Ishamael and wins, when he dies Moiraine is freed.

Min finds injured Rand and helps.

At the end: Egwene gets a letter from the wise ones. Nynaeve and Elayne intend to hunt down Liandrin. Min leaves to report to Siuan. Rand meets with Rhuarc or some other Aiel and intends to go to the waste. Moiraine is not going to let him out of her sight, and ALSO not going to let Mat out of her sight because HELLO, he BLEW THE HORN, so they and Egwene are accompanying him to the waste. Thom goes with Elayne cos that's practically his kid. Who takes the horn? Min or Moiraine, dunno yet.

Perrin goes to get Loial healed at nearest stedding and then leaves to go home. Loial and Faile accompany him because of course, Bain and Chian because they owe him a debt. Except oops, stinger: Valda and Fain are at two rivers!

END NOTES

As you see this is still missing: caihien’s king dying (by Thom’s hand or not), most Thom stuff, wtf Lanfear’s plain in Cairhien is...

Some stuff is probably cut. Portal stone world from Rand (even though I think it's nice to get to know they exist this way it's not necessary), or Faile, or Egwene's accepted test...

Episode 7 is kinda sparse so you could push some Rand stuff forward and free space from earlier episodes. But I spent like two hours on this and now it’s past midnight so any modifications have to wait until some other day. tell me what you think!

* some ideas courtesy of @amemoryofwot

**courtesy of Ali from Wheel Takes, listen to their podcast! They discuss season structure most in their WOT on Prime Episode 1 coverage.

*** this might come at any point but it has to come at some point

[jodilin65]

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 1992 Only 9 more days till I move and have a phone! I’m really psyched. I wish I could move right now.

I never bothered to set my alarm. I woke up at 10:30 but didn’t get out of bed till 11:30.

Tonight, I’m gonna watch the two-hour premiere of Reasonable Doubts.

Right now I’ll go see if Andy’s home. I know he said he’s got lots to do. Next weekend, or this coming weekend I should say, his sister Marla and his nephew Brian are coming for a couple of days from San Francisco.

I went to the pool a few times and chatted with an elderly couple, Nancy and Steve whom I met a few months ago. Well, they’re sort of elderly. Maybe in their 50s, but very nice.

Tara was there briefly with her friend Teresa who lives here, but will soon be moving out. Tara said Teresa’s brother knows gay women and Tara’s gonna ask her about them.

Oh, yeah sure. Like this is gonna lead me to such wonderful lust. The game of seek, chase, guess, wonder and playing detective sure is fun, though.

Tina, Lena’s roommate came over to check the studio apartment I have out in case she gets one for herself. She’s in a 1-bed now. I was on my patio as she was walking by and she asked to check it out. She did, liked it, and said she’d have to visit sometime. She knows I’m gay too, and I think she may be seeing Ed, but I don’t know for sure. She said she lived with a guy here and when they broke up, he moved out and she moved in with Lena.

Later…

Andy and I took some pictures of the pool and the grounds. Cuz he has to finish the roll by Friday I asked Mom to send another one since I won’t be moved till Oct. 9th. After I move, I’ll get my place all fixed up just like it is on the first floor and take some pictures.

I saw the perfect ad in the laundry room. It said: Female cat, spayed, declawed, litter box trained, free to good home.

When I called, I found out it was taken last Sunday. It figures. Just my luck that if it sounds too good to be true, it’s taken and out of the question. I’ll send Nervous the picture of the cat that was attached to the ad, anyway.

I put an ad in each laundry room for my answering machine for $45 or best offer. I know I’m gonna like that voice messaging much better. I also won’t hear that obnoxious clicking when I’m sleeping or have to keep taping it into the jack. All I’ll need to do when I’m sleeping is turn the phone ringer off. I never could turn off my answering machine. It would still go off but ring many more times first.

Later…

Last night turned out to be fun. Andy came over at 10:00. We talked here for a while, then decided to go see Ellie. We figured she might not want to see us but she was totally thrilled. We talked seriously as well as about goofy stuff from lyrics and such. She laughed along with it. I ended up getting my pink denim mini-skirt and bringing it over to glue on beads, shells, sequins and colored glue. It was fun and the skirt looks great.

I told her I was transferring and gave her my number. Andy gave her his number and she gave us hers! This is great for when we don’t feel like visiting her and I told her to always call first. Andy said the same rule applies to him. We’re gonna tape her, edit her and cross her.

As we were leaving she became furious, saying I didn’t help her clean up, but I did. Andy said she seemed so cured till we left, but that’s typical Ellie to become furious in the end. If she isn’t freaking out right from the get-go.

I spoke briefly with Mom and Dad yesterday. I also called Tara from Andy’s phone. Just Tara was there and Andy and I sang her funny lyrics.

I’m a little nervous right now as tonight we’re doing karaoke. My voice is in shit shape due to the fact that I’ve hardly sung all that much here. Been busy with other things, but I sang two songs earlier. I don’t want to warm up there and be coughing up phlegm. I must rely solely on my looks and try to look my best as my singing won’t be where it should be and could be. I’ll try my best, but unless they sing worse than Andy, or if they are better and I win, it’ll be mainly cuz of my looks.

Another thing that is a little nerve-wracking, is that this is a straight bar. I’ll no doubt get several hits. If I were straight, alone and looking, the guys wouldn’t bother with me.

I think I’ll go take a walk down to Tara’s place and see if she’d like to go with us, but I’m sure she’ll be busy. Current Location: Arizona

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 1992 I woke up at 11 AM today. Amazingly, I slept through the lawnmowers. I do want to keep on a day schedule till after I move. Due to sleeping till 11:00, I’ll be up till 3 AM. I must set my alarm for 8:00 to get up no matter how hard it’ll be.

I met the girl who’s gonna be next to me. Her name’s Andrea, but people call her Andi.

Later…

I stopped writing at the time as Andy came over. We went to visit a friend of his he used to work with. Her name was Autumn which is pretty.

We also went to Fry’s and I got $35 worth of food.

After I move I want to get a full-length mirror. I’m really looking forward to transferring and having a phone.

As I began to say before, I met my next-door neighbor. She seems nice.

Last Sunday Jeff was at the pool and he was about to use the grill. I asked if I could throw on my pork chop. He not only cooked my pork chop, but he also gave me some shrimp. That was very nice of him, but I also made it clear to him that I can’t constantly hang with people here. I also made it clear that I’m only available as a friend. Well, it’ll be more of an acquaintance. I want to be friendly with him, but not friends.

I opened my windows, but it is still way too hot today. It was 105º and Andy says it will be 108º Wed.

I still haven’t gotten a letter from Kim or anyone else in my family, but I’ve written tons of letters. I got one done for Bob which I haven’t written to him since I first got here. I sent him some hair. I’ve also written to Nervous, Fran, Brenda, Kacey, Jimmy, and Russell S.

I spoke with cousin Boo to thank her for her check and the day I move she’ll be going to Nevada to see her daughter Rhoda. She’ll be gone for 3 weeks. I told her I’ll write to her as soon as she returns. She says she’ll write too.

I have to take my meds soon, and in half an hour I’ll watch Hunter.

Not much else has been going on. Ed and Pat have been really nice and they never mentioned the night I called the cops on Ed. I think Ed is dating this girl Tina who lives here. She lives with this girl Lena. They (Lena and Tina) know I’m gay and know lots of people. Lena’s best friend is gay and I think I’ve seen her. A major butch. I don’t believe they know of any other gay women as feminine as I am, but what else is new?

I’ve chatted a few times with Rachel who lives diagonally below Andy at the front of the building (I’ll be in the back) and she really is very sweet. She gave me some boxes she used to move in with. I gave her some stuff I didn’t want.

This guy Randy whom I met when I first moved in, fixed my typewriter. It’s still not perfect and I sure miss Tammy’s typewriter, but now the keys don’t stick so much.

He’s very nice and I can see any girl who was looking for a serious relationship selecting him as the least likely to become a jerk.

This other guy Mike, who lives here, seems OK. We’ve chatted a few times too, but with his now knowing I don’t get involved, he may come around less often.

I don’t say it in a nasty way, but I get to the point while I sound honest and sincere and not slap it into their faces. That is unless they just don’t get it. I like guys who give up, rather than get more persistent, pushy and determined. I know there are so many women who’d die to get hit on as much as I do. Yet, it seems I always have to keep batting them away. Well, life’s not at all fair. You get what you don’t want while someone else gets what you do want.

Now I need to stop and take my meds and watch some TV.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 26, 1992 Last night was lots of fun, except for one thing. First I was over visiting with Tara. We played a game of Crazy 8’s, then some keyboards and listened to some tapes. The one of Andy trying to sing Desde la Oscuridad. Also, some calls as well as us talking to Laurie at the crisis center.

After that, I ran into Andy on my way back to my place. We went to McDonald’s. On our way out we ran over a small dog. Where did it come from? We never saw it running toward the car and the poor thing was crying out in so much pain. We took off hoping and praying someone rescues it. Legally there is a leash law. Morally we felt bad. I think I once met the dog’s owners and if I’m correct the dog does live here and is 15 years old.

Time for a swim.

Later…

I was chatting with Sue and Sharon at the pool. Sue’s so cool.

Last night Andy picked up that cream I need and I’ve begun that. I hope this time around it clears it up 100%.

For the last 3 days, I’ve been out by the pool. I’m tan but not as tan as I’d like to be. I also can feel that sun poisoning slightly acting up again. I’m doing it little by little, very carefully. I may simply have to wait until October, November or December. That sounds so funny. Imagine saying in MA. How you’re gonna wait till October, November or December to go tanning!

I went over to Andy’s and called Nervous and Fran. Nervous really didn’t have much to say and was eating prime rib. That was at 1 PM his time.

I spoke to Fran at around 4:00 his time and I gave him as well as Nervous my phone number. I also told them about the transfer.

I wish I could move now. Robert’s been quiet since I blasted him out, but I’m still looking forward to being able to sleep with my windows open, never hearing any footsteps above me, and to getting away from Mark.

Dennis and Brian, these two brothers who live here, are gonna be the ones helping me move. They understand I have no money to pay them. Dennis says you don’t pay your friends, but if I could, I would.

I am here now on my patio as I write this with my Walkman listening to Gloria. At least it’s not too unbearably hot for that, but I’m gonna go for a swim soon.

I spoke to Tammy yesterday and I was laughing as she told me it was in the 60s and very chilly with lots of rain. That’s what Fran says too. It’s funny knowing they’re all bundled up while I’m sweating my ass off and going swimming. When I’m up early in the mornings I have the weirdest sensation. As I look outside I can swear it’s chilly out and it blows my mind when I see I can walk out onto my patio in shorts and a halter top and be perfectly warm. My body is still in Taxachusetts, even though my mind is here. This is the longest summer I’ve ever had. I’m used to being pretty much in long pants and sweatshirts by now.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 1992 For starters, I went out last night and it was horribly boring. There were a few feminine ones there, all taken, naturally. I’m too old to be playing this game and I told Andy that if he’s gonna go out he’s gonna have to go alone or with someone else. The scene just isn’t for me and neither are butches. Everyone says to think positive and a feminine one will come to you. Yeah, right. They also say when you’re expecting nothing to happen, you’ll get what you want. Sure. If that were true I’d have been getting hit on left and right for the last two years. It’s truly impossible and not meant to be but at least I didn’t get hit on by a butch or a man. I asked God that if He were never planning on sending me what I want, please have men hit on me less often. A lot less often. I just wish I could settle for a butch and get turned on by people I’m not attracted to. I beg for Him to help me find the way to settle. Not for a man cuz they’re so hard to deal with, become too pushy, and give me a higher chance of diseases and of course pregnancy. I just want to someday be able to settle for a butch even if it takes time.

I called SRP to transfer my electricity and then the refill number on that cream Andy’s gonna pick up after work. I hope he remembers. He’s always remembered before. I do his laundry for all these little favors.

I also called US West and got a phone! It’s an ugly number but at least it’s a phone. I gave Tammy the number and swore her to secrecy.

My letter of credit from CT is no good cuz it was only for 4 months, but I’m glad as I know my weaknesses. I’d get carried away with the long distance and there’s no way I could afford an additional $170. It’s already gonna be around $100 to get started, but thanks to Cousin Boo, I can handle that. My monthly charge after that will be around $30. The guy I spoke to did say I’d be able to make collect calls. We’ll see. I’ll have 3-way calling, but no call-waiting or call-forwarding. I’m also getting that voice messaging service. I like it so much better and my answering machine is partially broken. When I moved from Deerfield I accidentally yanked the cord out and a part of the module clip that goes into the phone jack snapped off. So, this way I don’t have to keep taping it in, nor do I have to deal with that obnoxious clicking when someone calls while I’m asleep.

Later…

I’m gonna watch Matlock soon and Tara says she’s gonna come over. That’s what she says, but we’ll see as she’s said that before. I wanna show her my new dress from mom and dad. I saw her, Tonya and Sue at the pool. Pat, Ed’s roommate, was there also. I figured he’d be evasive due to my little run-in with Ed, but he was very nice.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 1992 I thought I was moving on the 2nd, but I guess it’s the 9th now. Gordy’s gonna need a week to paint and fix anything that may need to be fixed.

When I used that cream downstairs I used 1 tube. I had 1 refill and after using 1 tube it got much better. However, I still have some discharges and bloating. I called the office and spoke to one of his nurses who said I should use the second tube. Why didn’t the doctor tell me this in the first place?

Later…

I got the check from Cousin Boo. I thought it’d be $50, but it was $125! That was so nice of her and I’m very grateful. I intend to write her a thank-you note.

After I move I’m definitely gonna have a phone. I’m doing pretty good financially for a change.

Tuesday morning I’d had it with Robert. At 4 AM when he went to leave for work he stomped and woke me up. That was the final straw and I opened my door as he came down the stairs and I screamed, “Thanks a fucking lot! You have no fucking common courtesy waking people up at 4:00 in the goddamn morning!” I spoke to Paula yesterday about his stomping since talking to him myself didn’t work.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 1992 I got up at midnight and I would’ve had my schedule changed two weeks ago if it weren’t for the fuckface upstairs. He’s really pissing me off more and more and I’m sure the issue once again comes down to sex. I’ve had a few nice talks with Robert but he walks like an elephant, and after living in Norwich, I cannot deal with anyone living above me. That’s one reason I wanted the second floor. The other is that you have a zillion times more privacy. Now that it’s cooled off a bit I want to sleep with my windows open at night and shut the AC off and conserve. I always envied Andy who’s about to do that and have privacy with no people walking right by your windows.

The last reason is cuz I’m sick of Mark next door. I went off on him last week and gave him every piece of my mind. His attitude sucks and he hates everyone so you can only imagine how much he hates himself.

I moved in here too fast cuz I wanted to hurry up and get into my own place and Andy and I thought studios rarely were vacant.

So now here’s the good news and the solution to the problem. I called cousin Boo and explained the situation to her telling her I’d never ask for money ordinarily and to please keep it our secret (though I doubt she will). Mom and Dad have helped enough and they send $50 monthly. She said she knew the move was rough, would be delighted to help, it was our secret and my b-day gift. The check should soon be here and I am ever so grateful for her help.

I went to the office and spoke to Judy, and I’m moving to Building 1 directly behind Andy! It’s apartment #247, and Oct. 2nd is when the move will take place. I’ve spoken to Tony, that really nice black guy, as well as the guy who’s gonna be below me in 147 and they will hopefully help with the move.

I told Judy not to mention the $95 transfer fee to my parents. I also called them and I told them I was in the office and overheard a woman say she wants the first floor and offered to swap with her.

Kara was over last week too, and her brother told me he’d help me move for free. However, Kara says he’s in Michigan where they’re from.

Fay’s moving into a trailer, and her brother, who also lives here and is helping her. Maybe he can help me as well. There’s not too much heavy stuff but there will be 10,000 trips. With asthma, it would be cool to get all the help I can. Only those willing to help as a favor cuz I have no money to pay them. Except for the bed, table and microwave I can pretty much handle it all on my own. I’ll load stuff in boxes, empty them there and go back and forth loading and unloading boxes. It’d be great to get a shopping cart.

Later…

I’ve written to family and friends and I’ve got to get more stamps. I got a package from my parents. Dad claims that all they have left is my old guitar but where are the rest of my pictures? They sent my typewriter, twin sheets, a twin blanket, my papers (legal papers), my albums, my tools and two awesome outfits. I was shocked and couldn’t believe they sent me something so stylish and non-baggy. I got a beautiful, tight, short black dress with silver studs around the neck and colored glass beads on the upper front part of it. Also, a tie-dye pair of pants with matching tops and they all fit perfectly. I do have to keep pulling up the pants but at least they’re not baggy. They’re all sizes small and my stomach is flatter since I used that cream down below. The infection had been bloating me out.

I got a short quick letter from Tammy as I wrote before along with $50 since she sold my couch.

Andy gave me 22 blank tapes he no longer wants. Now I have about 78 blanks!

I went grocery shopping the other day. A guy who lives in building 2 took me, saying anytime I need a ride and see his truck there to let him know.

I always thought male neighbors were better as they tend to complain less about loud music, but luckily I’ll have two female neighbors and a male below me. There are 4 apartments on each side and on Andy’s side there are two other gay men. Andy asked, “Is building 1 the gay building, or what?” There’ll be a woman next to me and another under her. Under me, there’ll be a guy named Jeff. I spoke to him at the pool and he said if he’s home he’ll help me move stuff. He said he has no problem with my music and I hope whoever she is next to me doesn’t mind. I told Jeff I appreciate the help but cannot talk to my neighbors. He asked if it was due to a boyfriend and I said no I’m not into that and he said we’ll talk sometime. I’m just gonna level with him and tell him I’m not available to him for sex and I choose not to know my neighbors as I want no problems. He does seem like a fairly decent guy, though. Then again, don’t they always?

I can’t wait to move.

Two nights ago, believe it or not, Andy wanted to go to the bar. I thought he felt like I do. I thought he was sick of the games. I know in my mind I can’t get what I want and in this day and age I’ve come to accept it and I’ve stopped fighting a losing battle. I go in there and either get what I don’t want or nowhere. The few that were fairly attractive could’ve cared less about me and the few I exchange numbers with never call. If I call them (if they’ve given me the correct number) they act like they don’t know me and brush me off. You get tired of the same old pattern. He was also upset cuz I’ve been asleep when he’s up. I thought he wouldn’t mind as he chewed me out for coming over every day when I first came here. It just so happens that when he’s free, I’m asleep. When I’m up, he’s asleep. I wish he were still a night person and he did say he was getting sick of getting up so early. I knew he’d miss being a night person.

He said he may want to go to the bars tomorrow night or the next night, and I’ll be asleep. Coincidence? Nope. God’s trying to reinforce the fact that it isn’t meant to be. I could hang out in gay bars every single night and it wouldn’t get me anywhere.

Next, I’ll write about Ray and this girl Melissa I met at the pool. Now I’m gonna make a bagel.

Later…

Well, Robert stomped and slammed his way off to school. Payback is gonna be a real bitch but not till I move so he can’t retaliate. All he could do is come to my door or tell me to knock it off if I see him at the pool. I doubt he’d come to my door and he’d never call the cops any more than I knew Mark would when he received that very threatening and sexual letter. It scared him, though. He told me if I saw the guy to call the cops and that he’s gonna get a gun. I don’t know if he really got a gun or not.

I hope I have a peephole in my door cuz I ain’t answering my door without knowing who it is first.

When I made some pranks on Robert while Andy was back east, he laughed about it at the pool. The things I’ll say over the phone won’t be threatening, but they’ll be very blunt, sarcastic and very weird. Perhaps sexual too, as I know he’d love that. He’s lucky cousin Boo’s helping me with the transfer fee as I’d surely have to round up a few people to set him straight if I had to stay here. Why do I always keep ending up in the same situation? I just moved from this even though his noise isn’t an eighth of what I put up with in Norwich. It isn’t so much the stuff he does, it’s his fucking stomping. He doesn’t know how to walk and he has no common courtesy. I also plan on visiting him at 1:00-2:00 in the morning when I know he’s asleep. I wish I had that long crank I had to open my skylights with in Deadfield.

I hope I hear from Kim soon so I can mail her tapes out to her. She said she’d send lots of stamps. I also want to try and see if she’ll help with the phone installation. Connecticut’s sending a letter of good credit but I don’t know if it’ll be accepted since I was only there for 4 months. I’d just as well find a way to pay for the installation so I can avoid the same hassle and waiting game I went through with the food stamps. If they don’t waive the $170 deposit, fine. In case of an emergency, I don’t like not having a phone. I can also leave messages for Andy while he’s asleep or at work, rather than leave him notes.

I wrote about a letter I wrote to Debbie a month or so ago. Non-threatening and non-sexual. It’s my constitutional right which they can’t prove. I also was told to deny anything, especially shit they can’t prove without a lawyer. Several lawyers have told me this.

Ray called to tell me he was denying my case. Over that? The whole situation is so stupid and my dad told me not to worry.

Oh, I’m not, believe me.

I laid out by the pool yesterday and got a little color back. I’m gonna lie out today, too.

Maybe I’ll see Melissa who’s so nice and pretty. I’ll write about her later.

Later…

Melissa’s a really nice girl I met with a body that makes mine look sick. She’s 5’ 4” with medium-length, thin, straight blond hair and a perfect figure. Her face is slightly plain but more pretty than plain. She has nice eyes and a pretty smile.

When I told her I was gay she said she admired my openness and knew many gay people including her boyfriend’s brother. She also wonders if her female roommate has tendencies.

She also told me, even though she’s addicted to her boyfriend, she thought I was very attractive. She showed me a book she was reading called addictive relationships. She says she’s too clingy, dependent and jealous when it comes to her boyfriend. It amazes me that they’ve been together for over a year.

I told her I was always alone cuz I’m not attracted to gay women and they’re not attracted to me.

We talked about lots of things and she said she gets badgered by guys and that women avoid her. Then, as I was about to tell her how well I can relate to that, she said she can see me getting the same thing.

I know I’ll never get her, but I’m used to wanting the ones I can’t have and she’s good as a friend at least. I hope.

Later I’ll write the good news I have about SS. Isn’t it shocking and amazing to actually have any good news about them? For now, I’m gonna lay down and veg out and enjoy Robert’s absence. Believe it or not, this guy’s home more than I was back east. He hasn’t worked since I have been here and he’s only out at school from 7 AM - 10:30 AM. I wish he were never home and always away traveling.

Later…

I called SS last Fri. to find out how much they plan to take from my check. She said they usually take 10%. I asked how much of a cut that’d be from $426. She said about $42. I said that’s crazy and she said she’d call to tell them to take only $5 a month. She asked me if I got SSI and I said I thought I didn’t qualify for that here in Arizona. She made the call and said I do get SSI, but haven’t gotten it cuz that’s how they’re collecting the bullshit overpayment. In 10 months I should have my SSI check back and she says they’re not gonna touch my SS check. Well, I sure hope she’s right cuz so many times one person will say one thing while another will say something totally different.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 1992 Several things have happened since I last wrote. Let me begin with Tara. She showed me tons of drawings she did which make mine look like I scribbled. She’s had lots of lessons and of course, I haven’t had any. She sat down with me and gave me 10 minutes of tips and pointers, and oh my God! I don’t know who was more shocked. She or me. I’ve drawn about 8 pictures since and they’re tremendously better.

Last Friday night she was supposed to come over at 2 AM after going out. Around 12:30 that evening, I heard a knock on my door and I thought it was her. When I opened the door it was Ed who I met at the pool. We’d always had some good talks at the pool and he said he knew this girl who was gay. He and his roommate seemed nice and open-minded and he said this girl looked like a centerfold. I doubt that if she’s gay. I never met her cuz he didn’t know her well or see her often. Anyway, he was at my door with a beer, obviously smashed, saying he was just wandering. Yeah, right.

I went to Andy’s phone and called 911. He just had to “wander” to my door, then on my patio. He never said or did anything about sex, but I wasn’t born yesterday. One thing would’ve led to another. Especially with a guy with a beer in his hand at that hour. Plus, I’m gay so that would make it all the more exciting for him, wouldn’t it? They’re God’s gift to women, as far as they’re concerned, and they love the resistance and challenge of “conquering” a gay woman.

When the cops arrived, he was gone. The cops and I went to his door. I told him I’ll be friendly and say hi to him at the pool, but if he comes to my door, there’s gonna be trouble. I was so caught off guard that it freaked me out. If he came around again I’d be ripped and there’s no telling what I may do to him. Let’s just say I’d take the so-called “thrill of conversion” right outa him.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 1992 I’ve been a bit lazy again as far as doing everything I need to do. I figured that since I can’t sleep, now’s as good a time as any to write.

Andy and I went to see the Twin Peaks movie.

I need to finish a letter to my parents and also write to Tammy. I have tons of editing to do still, but I have done some. Kim shocked me by sending 28 blank tapes! When I called to thank her she told me she’d send a letter along with some stamps. I’ve made her 5 tapes of convos and edits. I’m listening to a funny-as-all-hell tape of Andy. The other night he was over here listening to my latest edition of edits. We were also writing to Nervous and Fran using all those cards my parents sent. We were cracking up over what I enclosed in Fran’s envelope as well as Nervous’ - dead crickets.

I got some really cool and awesome new stationery of neon cats for a buck at Walgreens.

As I was addressing tons of envelopes and enclosing geometrical colorings I did, I came up with a great idea. I had Andy put the headphones on while I played Desde la Oscuridad. I told him to read the lyrics and sing what he thought the words were. It was so hysterically funny! It sounded like a Jewish cantor singing. We were dying of laughter.

Then, we went and teased Ellie. Man is that woman fucked up! I’ve only seen her that one time since she came over here and I shut her out. That woman is as crazy and as delusional as you can get, but funny if you only see her once a month to rank on her. At the same time we understand she can’t help being crazy, she’s so funny and perfect to have a field day with.

I’ll write more about Ellie, Tara and Tonya some other time. Other than that, not much else has happened. I had a flood in my bathroom, Fay’s moving, I’m horny and that’s it. The only major thing to write about is Tara. The rest is all little odds and ends.

[shinigamiringo]

Oh shit here we go again..?

what, did you think I forgot about this lol bet you did. it's ok, I did fail a bit! Which is why I only put 3 goals for Q1. Buuuut! I didn't fail fully so I still consider this a mostly win lol Here's what I learned!

Q1 supposed to be goals (a refresher lol)

1. Learn and understand all 2000 jouyou kanji.

Doing just kanji is hella boring so I get distracted. I need something to keep my interest. I, like a smart bean, tried just using "The guide to remembering kanji" book, and was like lol nope.

2. Work out at least 2x a week

I actually accomplished this near the end! WOOHOO GO ME \o/ However, the last week I had to take a break because my feet were killing me. So I didn't work out but I was still doing really well with it so yaaay.

3. Floss, brush, and mouthwash everyday

This is kinda a half accomplishment, I think. I did manage to brush most days, but there were some days where flossing and mouthwash wasn't done because lazy/tired or I didn't have time.

SO! 3 goals, 2 done 1 partial; I'd say that's a great win! The best part, ofc, is when I was being consistent, I started doing other things. I was meditating for at least 3 minutes, doing my morning and night face routine, and keeping my room cleaner (no, not completely clean. I have cats and those furry gremlins like to cause chaos ok) IDK if adding those things unintentionally was what caused me to slip or if it was the taking a break, but either way I would say I'm doing pretty well. What is next with Q2? Let's talk about it!

Q2:

Continue to work out, but go to at least 3x a week

Since I did kiiiinda do the workout thing, I'm going to keep this in the list of goals. I got to a good area with running but the problem came when my feet started dying. I had to stop and recover, plus get some actual running shoes. Right now, I'm doing the zombies, run! 5k to increase my running speed, then I plan to work through the zombies, run! seasons. I did pretty good with working out everyday, so I will try to keep that in my goals.

Ofc, I can't just run so I plan to add some exercise routines from Darebee. I was doing the yoga one, but I might switch that to an anaerobic type. Ah wait.... ok! I will keep the yoga one, since it's only 30 days and once that's finished, move on toooooo

Ringfit! I have a few other games I could use, but ringfit has a lot of different types of exercise that seems like it could help. Plus, that "guy who did ringfit for 300 days became super fit!" news article is stuck in my head. I was debating on adding more in the gym, but tbh I don't like staying there too long since I always get a bit creeped out. I'm paranoid ok don't judge me.

2. Brush and mouthwash everyday

since this one was a half, I'm going to pull it from 3 things to just brush and mouthwash. I would prefer to keep floss, but I think keeping a bit of the stress away might help. We'll see.

3. Japanese, everyday

ok, I won't lie- not reaching the Japanese goal hurt a bit. It was kinda upsetting considering I broke it down but! hope springs eternal! New goal is Japanese at least 5 minutes a day. I'm sure I'll want to do more but if I put a low bar I should be able to jump over it not dig under it lol I do have some plans on how to tackle it and test myself but I'm going to just put on this master list that I'll give myself a sticker everytime I reach this goal. I like stickers, sue me.

4. Meditate 1 minute everday

I wasn't going to add a 4th, but since I reached the gym goal (even though I'm adding to it) I figured I needed to add something new. Meditation is good for attention spans, anxiety, etc, etc, so this is a nice little goal to facilitate the others, I think.

And that's it! I might add my mini Japanese plan, but tbh it's kinda more a fun thing at this point. I'm really excited about this next quarter! If I was able to make it this time, I know I'll definitely do better this next time. I also might be taking the JLPT, depending on my speed. Wish me luck in this second quarter.

onwards, to greatness~!

[sexyvampkitty]

RP Mini-Solo 19: 'Emotions Suck...Strike Three'

I sit here...all alone...on the edge of the bed in my hotel room...staring out of the window into the black nothingness...a half-full glass of Bourbon clutched tightly in my right hand...fingers squeezing hard enough almost to the point of making it shatter. I swiped the Bourbon from my latest ex boyfriend's stash just before I left his house. I figured he owed me one for what he did to me...chaining me up and trying to starve me and all. Yep. That's right. I'm single...again. With my humanity switch still off...I 'should' feel nothing beyond pleasant numbness...however...right now...one single emotion is managing to push it's way through. Anger. No. Make that...pure rage. I am beyond pissed at the moment. I'm still not sure what in the Hell happened. After 'finally' unchaining me from the wall of the Salvatore house basement room...not before leaving me there for quite a few hours...I walked right out of the room...shooting him my best menacing glare as I passed by him...back up to the large parlor slash living area...swiped a bottle on my way to the front door...left the house...and I haven't seen him since. That was over...two weeks ago. It doesn't take a freaking genius to figure out what went down. He dumped my almost-cheating ass...without so much as a 'Good Bye'. So yeah...I guess I 'do' kind of know what happened...still...he said that he wanted to be with me...for whatever reason...and then turns around and dumps me? That's just beyond low. Screw him then. I guess I was right about what I said before...about not letting anyone in. I've had my heart torn from my chest and stomped on...it might as well be literally...one too many times now...three...in fact...and I honestly don't know how much more of this crap I can take. If I happened to flip my switch back on...the way that I am now...I'd probably be trying to find a way to end myself...once and for all...and...I can't help but wonder...would I even cry? Or am I past the point of shedding any more tears? Honestly...I seem to have the 'worse' luck...ever...when it comes to relationships. My first boyfriend up and disappeared on me...without a word...my husband...past tense...dust in the wind...make that dessicated behind a random bar in Georgia somewhere...more or less divorced me because we disagreed on matters of starting a 'family'. He wanted it...I didn't. Well...there were 'other' issues...but that was the biggest one. The dinosaur...screw the damn elephant...in the room...so to speak. And now...my last boyfriend just dumped me because he caught me in bed with someone else...another Damon twin...even though we never actually had sex...or touched at all...for that matter. I squeeze the glass a little bit tighter...starting to hear it crack slightly. I guess I'm just not compatible with anyone. Why? Is it me? Do I always do something wrong? Why does everyone keep leaving me? Maybe I don't deserve to be loved at all. I guess I was right about the other thing that I said before too...I'm better off being alone. With one final squeeze...the glass in my hand finally gives way...pointy shards digging into my palm...piercing the skin...warm alcohol trickling down to mingle with my blood. I feel absolutely nothing as I stare down at the weird mixture of brown and crimson traveling down my arm in long rivulets. Screw this. I'm done. I might as well pack up and leave...maybe go back home...Los Angeles...for a bit...or travel around the country again...go to all of the places that I didn't see when I was too busy chasing after my bastard of an ex husband...and then some...maybe see the whole world this time. There's really nothing keeping me in this damn town anymore. And I'm done hooking up with anyone else...for a 'long' time. I doubt that there is much left of my heart to kick around at this point. I carefully pick the shards out of my palm...one by one...then continue to start out into the night. Hmmm...although...maybe I'll stick around for a little while longer...at least until the new year. It might be time for another mini-Christmas massacre again. A slow...evil smirk tugs up one corner of my mouth...and keeps going...threatening to split my face in half at that thought. I haven't done that since last year...when my 'first' boyfriend kept vanishing on me. A brief sigh passes my partially parted lips at the visuals my reminiscing suddenly bring up. Ahhhh...good times. I can't 'wait' to do that again. Screw my ex's. And screw this town. Anyone who doesn't want to die a horrible...painful...and possibly 'very' slow death...whether they be human or vampire...had better stay the Hell out of my way. Merry Freaking Christmas to me...again. [END]

[mariacallous]

Modern governments rely on numbers. They are the lifeblood of departments, used to judge the success or failure of policies. Politicians use them to legitimise their views and ideas and to scrutinise, expose and attack the other side.

While in the past it might have been enough for public policy to be justified on the basis of “because I say so”, governments can no longer rely on blind faith. They are expected, even required, to back their policies with hard evidence – the unease that greeted Liz Truss government’s mini-budget is a case in point – and we tend to view numbers as the most solid form of evidence there is.

The trouble is that numbers can’t always be trusted, even when they come from official sources. Despite the intention to act on good evidence,governments of all stripes have been continually led towards disaster by the problem of what I call “bad data” – official statistics that are patchy and inaccurate.

Sometimes the dismal state of our data is the fault of under-resourcing and a lack of attention to counting what should be counted. For decades, immigration statistics were based purely on a survey of people arriving and departing from UK air, sea and rail ports. Millions of passengers enter and leave the UK each year and picking migrants out of this enormous haystack has in part been a matter of luck. In the early 2010s, for example, these figures appeared to show an alarming situation where half of all international students were overstaying their visas.

Under Theresa May, the Home Office launched a multi-pronged campaign to identify illegal immigrants, which included closing bogus colleges and introducing right-to-work and right-to-rent checks. New statistics in 2017 concluded the original overstaying estimate for students had simply been wrong, a fault of failing to count people properly – and a sign of how unreliable migration statistics were as a whole. But it was too late for one group that fell on the wrong side of the so-called hostile environment policies: people who had come legally from Commonwealth countries in the postwar era but couldn’t provide enough proof of this when questioned. These victims of the Windrush scandal, uncovered by the Guardian, suffered multiple injustices thanks to an imaginary foe in the numbers and a failure of government record-keeping.

In the mid-2000s, the Labour government was keen to be on the front foot when it came to switching the EU’s farming subsidy from one based on what farmers produced to one based on how much land was capable of being farmed. As it turned out, the patchy state of our land records meant the government had essentially no idea how much land this applied to and, when the new system was launched, the civil service was upended by an avalanche of unanticipated claims. Britain was fined by the EU for the delay to payments caused by this backlog, while farmers themselves faced bankruptcy and, in some terrible cases, took their own lives.

Other times, numbers can mislead because there isn’t necessarily a right or wrong way of counting something, so we end up with a narrow view based on what we think is important at one point in time. Debates about whether prison “works”, whether grammar schools are a good idea, and even whether crime and poverty are going up or down have been going on for decades – and will go on for decades more unless we find better, agreed-upon ways of measuring these phenomena. Data will tend to offer us solutions based on what we decided was important enough to count and measure in the first place.

The people of Ilfracombe, Devon, know this. In the 1960s their railway station was closed, spelling an end to the harbour town’s tourism industry. This was thanks to a sweeping programme of cuts to the railways on the advice of British Rail chair Richard Beeching, whose main criterion for deciding a railway line’s usefulness was the average cost per passenger, per mile, over the course of a year. The trouble was that a yearly average was a terrible reflection of the importance of the railway to summer holiday destinations such as Ilfracombe, which had substantial railway traffic for only a few months of the year.

Politicians are usually not experts in statistical modelling, which puts them somewhat at the mercy of academics and economists who can themselves promote their ideas with far more confidence than is warranted. In one particularly egregious case, a key economic argument of the 2010 Con-Lib coalition government’s austerity agenda was revealed to have originated in a mistake in an Excel spreadsheet. Economists Carmen Reinhart and Kenneth Rogoff had been recommending lowering the debt to GDP ratio armed with a study in which they claimed to have found that debt of 90% of GDP was bad for growth. Years later, a PhD student discovered that this conclusion only held because the authors had failed to include the last five rows of their data. The authors admitted their mistake – but not before austerity had become a cornerstone of UK economic policy.

Bad data is not something niche or technical; it has real-world costs that can be very serious indeed, no matter which party is in power. The issues that are most important to people are, worryingly, the ones on which we have the worst data: crime, immigration, income, benefits, unemployment, poverty and equality.

Some of our architecture for collecting data is just plain under-resourced and in need of an overhaul, but governments tend to see fixing this problem as a hard sell to the taxpayer. A shift in our political culture would go a long way towards uncertainty no longer being treated as a dirty word. Until then, we the public can keep up the pressure by asking questions, refusing to settle for face value, and demanding explanations. Numbers hold enormous power, but in the end, we must remember that we govern them – not the other way round.

Georgina Sturge is a statistician in the House of Commons Library, and the author of Bad Data: How Governments, Politicians and the Rest of Us Get Misled by Numbers

[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!

[ptergwen]

only you and me

w/c: 6.7k

warnings: angst, mentions of weed, and some swearing

summary: whenever peter tries to tell you how he feels, harry gets in the way

a/n: ahhhh hi my loves! my mini writing break is over :,) life has been just a mess for me and i’ve been way more critical than usual about my work but i’m doing a little better and ready to get back into everything! this helped me a lot so i’m excited to share it with y’all <3 it’s also my first time writing harry osborn so lmk how i did lmaooofwfjj but yeah pls enjoy

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“dude, she’s right there! just tell her!” ned whisper yells to peter, elbowing him for emphasis. they’re hidden behind a wall to watch you at your locker. you’re grabbing books while betty rants to you and mj rolls her eyes. “not now. she looks... busy,” peter gulps, gaze trailing down your body. he always finds excuses to put off telling you how he feels.

or rather, excuses find him. something comes up every time he gets the courage to do it. he has no idea why he’s so scared because he’s pretty sure you like him back. pretty sure. there are a few reasons why you might not. also, plenty why you might. you stay up late texting most nights, and you’ve even flirted a couple of times. it never fails to make peter blush. he trips over his words whenever he tries to flirt back.

he’s had feelings for you since the first time you two hung out alone. none of your other friends could make it, but you happily took him up on his offer to come over. you grinned through his whole apartment tour, asked about may and what she does. when peter showed you his room, you even complimented his movie posters, much to his surprise.

“really? you don’t think they’re, like, dorky?”

“no, peter. your interests aren’t dorky. everyone likes what they like.”

and, he liked you. he knew it from that point on. you’d know it too if the universe wouldn’t keep stopping him from saying that.

“she’s so...” peter pauses for a second. him and ned watch you pull betty in by her shoulders as if you’re going to kiss her. she dodges you, mj pushing her back, all three of you giggling about it before you grab betty’s hands and give her words of encouragement. “cool,” peter finishes, turning back to ned. “i mean, how she puts herself out there like that.”

“what’s stopping you from doing the same thing?” ned points out with a knowing smile that peter returns. you make it look so easy. whenever you’re comfortable around people, you can let go of any doubts you have. you stop worrying about what they might think and instead do what you want. it’s inspiring to peter, and heart warming getting to be one of the people you’re fully you with.

he wishes he could apply your wisdom himself.

peter shakes his head, staring down at the floor. “oh, you know. anxiety, fear of rejection. that fun stuff.” “so, yourself,” ned concludes, clapping peter’s backpack so hard it makes him stumble forward. betty and mj wave goodbye to you before heading to their first class. you’re still getting your things together at your locker. this is peter’s moment.

“come on, dude! y/n’s not busy anymore. you got this.” ned keeps his hand on peter’s back, adding on, “it’s been a year already.” “half a year,” peter corrects him in a mumble. he’s liked you for a really long time. “ok, i’m going. wish me luck.” he takes a deep breath and focuses in on you. “aw, dude. you don’t need it.” ned gives him one last pat on the back. “good luck, though.” “thanks, man. see you in trig.”

right as peter starts heading over, harry comes up behind you and covers your eyes. you squeal, jumping up and turning to him, laughing as you playfully hit at his chest. he brings you into a hug where your face is buried in his sweater and probably inhaling his super strong, super expensive cologne.

that’s what’s stopping peter, harry freaking osborn. his own friend.

peter quickly loses the tiny bit of confidence ned gave him. he figures it might be better to hold off on his confession and get an early start to class. unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen. harry has already spotted him and calls him over.

“hey, pete! come give us some love, eh?” harry beams, an arm slung around your shoulders and you smiling up at him. you direct your smile to peter when he slumps his way to your locker. his lips pull into a barely noticeable frown. you notice. “there’s my guy. why so down, sunshine?” harry offers his fist for a fist bump. peter gives it to him, eyes staying on you.

harry osborn. where to begin with such a specimen? he’s the perfect combination of everything you’d want in a guy. he gets good grades, he’s a star player on on the basketball team, nice to everyone and makes you laugh, popular yet fits right into your small group.

he was friends with you before the popular thing. what kicked it off was him making varsity basketball while only being a sophomore. yep, he’s unreal. since then, he’s been balancing his cool life and also hanging with “the nerds,” as he likes to call you. he got his own feelings for you along the way. peter can tell.

he’ll give you rides home, compliment how you look, basically act like your boyfriend without really being it. it absolutely infuriates peter because he doesn’t compare to harry in the slightest. if he were you and had the choice between himself or harry, he would pick harry.

it’s been a factor in why he hasn’t come clean about how he feels yet. he’s not trying to create a love triangle that he doesn’t stand a chance surviving in.

“for real, peter. you good?” you ask him, eyebrows knitted together in concern. “fine,” peter lies and musters up a smile. “i’m just tired. didn’t sleep too good last night.” you’re only more concerned now. this has been happening to him a lot lately. you search for his eyes. “again?”

“aw, man. you need something for it?” harry punches peter’s shoulder and lowers his voice. “i know this kid who-“ “harry, stop.” your words are serious, tone lighthearted. you throw your head back on his arm. “do you really know a kid?” “i’m not telling you,” he says in an overly happy voice, you humming the same way. peter feels like he’s third wheeling.

“i was telling pete.” harry looks at him expectantly, peter’s mouth dropping open while he thinks of what to say. harry likes to mess around. this is a different level, though. “no thanks. i- i shouldn’t. i’m-“ “relax, i don’t know a kid,” harry chuckles and points at peter. “your face right now.” it’s completely flushed. you knock into harry’s side.

“ok, well literally no one laughed. you’re scaring him,” you tell harry sternly. peter tugs tight on one of his backpack straps. he doesn’t feel like he’s third wheeling you two now. he feels like your kid. he’ll never let ned mettle in his love life ever again if this is where it gets him. “he knows i’m kidding, y/n/n. right?” harry checks with peter. you make a face at him that says you aren’t convinced.

he switches his arm from you to peter, drawing him into his side. “look, pete. i’m sorry. the only kid i know who’s selling is chocolates for his band trip.” you’re satisfied with that, grinning at both of them. peter forces a laugh and nods. “no worries, man. i gotta get to class.” “good boy,” harry lets him go. “bye, pete. we’ll see you at lunch,” you remind him. he gives you a tight lipped smile. “see you, y/n/n.”

you and harry continue practically spooning each other as soon as peter is out of sight.

what the hell is going on?

peter is back to being grumpy, plopping down in his seat next to ned. their teacher has the lesson plan pulled up on the smart board. ned looks from it to peter, almost jumping in his seat. “oh, you’re back already? how’d it go?” “it didn’t go,” peter huffs, copying down the aim. he’s only doing it so he doesn’t have to look ned in the eyes while telling him he bailed. again.

“you didn’t do it?” ned repeats, peter writing something about pi and a unit circle in his notebook. he bites the inside of his cheek. “you have to do it at some point,” ned sighs out and picks up his pencil. even he’s getting tired of this, and ned never gets tired of a good friends to lovers moment. “i think she likes harry,” peter says under his breath. “huh?” ned gasps.

peter doesn’t feel like explaining the extremely awkward moment he just finished living. although, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion. “y/n. he came over, and they kept hugging and whatever.” “they always do that,” ned almost scoffs, their trigonometry teacher moving to stand in front of the class. “yeah, but he had his arm around her the whole time we-“

the bell rings and cuts their conversation short. peter struggles to label the unit circle they learn about when his mind is filled to its capacity with images of you and harry all over each other. it’s not daydreaming. this is a nightmare. maybe, he actually will be having sleep problems.

peter’s morning is relatively decent after that. he gets to do an experiment with mj in chemistry, and she lets him take the lead for once. spanish is easy, health is okay, then he has a free period, then it’s lunch. things can only go downhill from here.

he thinks about hiding in the library until it’s over, but it’s the thought of harry eating your face that gets him to drag himself to the cafeteria.

flash is at the head of your table talking to harry when peter gets there. great, now he can’t eat his soggy chicken fingers in peace. “sounds dope. let’s go on the-“ flash stops saying what he was saying and nods at peter. “penis parker, you’re late.” peter takes his seat on your left, harry on your right. you glance over at him to make sure he’s okay. he acts like he doesn’t care, peeling open his milk carton.

“just text me later, man. get outta here,” harry dismisses flash, the two of them doing a bro handshake before he leaves. he’s well aware of his and peter’s history. he keeps them separate for the obvious reasons. peter appreciates it because saying no to flash is nearly impossible. he shouldn’t be so mad at harry, should he? he’s a good friend.

harry’s arm snakes around your waist and brings you closer to him. never mind.

“who’s up for sushi later?” he asks the table, everyone agreeing and saying how awesome that sounds. everyone except peter. you tap his shoulder with a small smile. “what about you, peter? you coming?” he realizes you’re all waiting for him to respond and puts down his milk. “uh, i can’t. homework,” he lamely answers.

“dude, we have homework, too. just do it a little later,” ned suggests, betty laying her head on his shoulder. you share a look with her, your eyes wide and a grin on your lips. that must have been what you were talking about this morning. she asked for boy advice. ned advice. why can’t this crap work out for peter?

“i really can’t. sorry, guys,” peter half heartedly apologizes.

he misses the disappointment that crosses your features because he’s pouting at his lunch again.

“homework, huh?” mj tests him, squinting as she takes a sip of apple juice. harry nudges peter’s side with two fingers. “you still mad about the sleeping thing?” “sleeping thing? what sleeping thing?” betty wonders while ned rests his head against hers. a quiet laugh slips out of you as you lean in to tell her.

“peter said he couldn’t sleep last night, so harry offered him...” you mime rolling a joint. “i said no,” peter clarifies, rolling his eyes at the inevitable teasing he’s about to get. none of you have even smoked besides harry. you’re being annoying about it. “of course you did,” mj sighs and kicks her feet up on the table. “unrelated to what y/n just said... harry, i have insomnia.”

everyone bursts into laughter at that, betty shoving her side and you pulling harry by his torso as he pretends to go into his backpack. peter wants nothing to do with any of this. he usually enjoys joking around with the group, even if it’s at his expense because it’s from a place of love.

today feels like you’re straight up making fun of him. harry might as well invite flash to join in.

“alright, alright, alright. enough of the weed talk,” harry decides, you removing your arms from him and grabbing your coffee. “you’re such a bad influence.” your voice drips with sarcasm. you bend the straw and take a sip while scooting closer to peter. “you really can’t come later? i feel like i’ve barely seen you today.” that’s on harry. “i wish i could, y/n/n,” peter exhales. “i’ll text you later, okay?”

you don’t get to answer because mj tugs on your arm, distracting you from peter. she explains how she has to do an art project on what it means to be a woman and needs help brainstorming ideas. you’re full of them, offering up an interesting perspective for her to use. peter smiles to himself as he listens in. you find a new way to impress him every day.

he should tell you that.

“hey, y/n?” “listen to her! you’re seriously my idol,” betty gushes, so loudly you don’t hear peter. not a single thing has gone in his favor at this table. he gives up.

peter locks himself in his room when he gets home from his overall terrible day. he does homework like he said he would, only taking a break for dinner, giving one word replies to may’s questions about school. he’d much rather be having sushi with you. he would’ve gone if the others didn’t.

after dinner, it’s back to grumbling and scribbling down answers. there’s a knock at peter’s door around ten o’clock, which he assumes is may saying goodnight. “i’ll be done in a few minutes, may! love you.” “it’s y/n,” you reply, the smile clear in your voice. his eyes go comically wide. that’s the last thing he expected to hear. “oh. uh, come in.”

you’re holding a small takeout bag, shutting the door behind you and walking over to his desk. you meet his twinkling eyes in the dim light that hits off his walls. from his open window, you faintly hear cars as they rush by and honk their horns in the distance, accompanied by a fresh breeze. it’s cozy, safe. it’s peter.

“hey. what’re you doing here?” peter questions, leaving his pencil in his binder and shutting it. you shake around the plastic bag. “i saved you a roll.” he bites back a smile, getting up from his chair. “may let me in. she was really chill about it,” you continue and hold out the sushi for him. “it’s a california roll. i wasn’t sure what you wanted, and everyone likes those.”

peter lets his smile spread out and takes the bag from you. “thanks, y/n/n. i was honestly hoping one of you would have leftovers.” you laugh softly, peter setting the bag down on his desk. he scratches the back of his neck. “did you guys have fun?” “yeah. i missed you, though.” you clasp your hands behind your back. “everyone did.”

“i feel bad i didn’t go. just... things felt off today,” peter admits the real reason he stayed home, you letting out a breath. “it was harry, wasn’t it? god, he was being so weird.” your arms drop back to your sides. “there’s a difference between playing around and actually upsetting people.” by people, you mean peter. no one else seemed too bothered by him. “i’m sorry, peter. i tried to make him stop.”

“no, you don’t have to apologize,” peter assures you sweetly, grabbing one of your hands. “it’s not your fault, okay? he probably didn’t realize what he was doing. the jokes landed.” he’s referring to ned, mj, and betty finding harry’s comments hilarious. you lace your fingers with peter’s and frown. “this isn’t like him. maybe he’s stressed about a game.” your gaze drifts off to the side, what you see getting you to perk up.

“is that new?” you ask peter, leading him by his hand over to a poster he put up recently. it’s for 13 going on 30. you showed it to him a couple of weeks ago, and he clearly liked it a lot. any movie that makes it to peter’s wall is a special one. “mhm. i got it literally right after you went home the night we watched,” he chuckles and looks over at you while you study the poster.

you turn to face peter again, keeping your hand tight in his. “were you gonna tell me something earlier? at lunch?” he’s confused for a second, then he remembers your ideas for mj’s art project. the fact that you cared enough to bring it up after all these hours makes his stomach do summersaults in the best way. he shrugs and gives you a smile.

“the stuff you were saying about femininity and how there are so many ways to define it,” peter starts, you grinning back at him, at how he took an interest in what you were saying. “you’re so smart, y/n. you make me wanna be better.” a light pink dusts his cheeks. “peter, you’re a feminist?” you coo, joking but genuinely wondering at the same time. he squeezes your hand. “duh.”

“i thought so,” you nod, taking in the rest of what he said. “you think i’m smart? i trust you because you’re way smarter.” peter pffts in response. “i’m only good at, like, physics. you’re good at things that really matter. smart in that way.” you’re feeling your own face get hot. you swing yours and peter’s hands back and forth. “why are you the nicest person ever?”

the answer to that, may, peeks her head into the room. “hey, kids. it’s getting late.” she notices your intertwined hands and shoots peter a smirk. “i thought you were a cool aunt,” he teases, you sadly letting go of him. “she is. thanks for having me over so late,” you tell may on your way to the door. “oh, stop it. you can come over any time.” she puts a hand on your arm. “thank you so much,” you murmur back.

you walk backwards to the doorway, may leaving you two to say your goodbyes. “wanna hang out only you and me? on friday maybe?” that should make up for everything earlier. “yeah, of course. friday is perfect,” peter agrees and bounces on his feet as excitement takes over him. “thanks again for the sushi.”

“no problem. goodnight.” it’s taking every last bit of power in you to not freak out. “night. text me when you get home.” he presses his tongue into his cheek. you slowly pull the door shut. “ok, i will. bye!” it closes, leaving peter skipping across his room to his bed on one side and you doing a little happy dance on the other.

the next day at school, everything is back to normal. honestly, better than normal. your hangout with peter is tomorrow, and he’s planning on telling he likes you then. he already talked it over with ned. he’s relieved it’s finally happening, especially since him and betty have their own thing. she’ll be taking up most of his free time from here.

your group is spending lunch outside today, lounging across a picnic table, surrounded by trees and the shining sun in a bright blue sky. mj sits on the table and has her feet on the bench, which would usually bug peter to no end. he doesn’t mind this time because it takes up enough room that harry has to sit with ned and betty instead of you. you lean into peter’s side and stab a piece of lettuce from your salad.

“it’s so nice out,” betty sighs, ripping off half her cookie and giving it to ned. “we should ditch.” “oh my god, you sound like harry,” you groan between bites of salad. peter lets out a breathy laugh, you looping your arm through his. he grins down at where you’re linked. harry crosses his own arms over his chest. “she wishes.” betty only nods because her mouth is full of m&m’s.

“nah, seriously. i’d take us out somewhere, but i have practice after school.” he speaks quieter than he normally does, less confident. your theory about him having basketball drama was right. “what did we tell you? talk about the sports shit with your sports friends,” mj complains, sitting back on her hands. she glances at harry over her shoulder and catches ned mouthing you can’t say that.

sitting criss cross, she spins around to face harry, unenthusiastically saying, “what i meant was, you sound upset. what’s wrong?” harry gets into it right away, like he’s been waiting for someone to ask. “coach says there might be a scout at the next game. it’s a really good opportunity even though i don’t have to worry about... college yet.” the word makes him cringe.

“oh, damn. that’s a big deal. scary,” mj snorts, turning back to you and peter. her behavior makes ned internally face palm. “that’s awesome, dude. you’re gonna play amazing like always.” he gives harry a high five, who smiles nervously in response. he’s never nervous. “thanks, bro. you guys wanna come and watch?” he’s never invited you to one of his games before either.

this isn’t a group of friends that likes to spend their weekends in bleachers while angry teens shout around them.

“definitely. we’ll be there to support you, harry,” betty answers for everyone, ned pecking her cheek in satisfaction. mj cusses to herself before replying. “if i absolutely must, sure.” only you and peter haven’t said anything yet. he’s been chewing his lower lip, and you your salad. harry looks between you two hopefully. it’s more so at you, which peter doesn’t like.

“y/n? pete? it would help a lot, i’m serious.” he taps his fingers on the table until one of you speaks up. you’re the one who does. “i’ll go. this is pretty huge, right? congrats.” you reach across the table and squeeze his shoulder while simultaneously tightening your arm around peter’s. he takes that as a cue. “i’ll go, too. happy for you, man.”

though peter isn’t currently in the best place with harry, he should show his support by showing up. it can’t be too bad since the rest of you will be there.

a loud, long chuckle leaves harry as he hops up from his bench and comes to yours and peter’s. he bends over and wraps both of you in a hug from behind at the same time. his arms are around each of your shoulders, holding you so close his cheeks are squished against either of your heads. you giggle at that, peter finding himself laughing along and reaching back to ruffle harry’s hair.

staying mad at him is one of the world’s greatest challenges.

“you’re saints, both of you. my angels.” he kisses the back of your head, then lays one right on peter’s cheek, leaving him blushing red and grinning. “what about the rest of us? i never go to shit like this,” mj huffs and seems genuinely offended. harry wiggles his eyebrows. “you want a kiss?” his offer gets her flustered, which she can’t manage to hide. that’s a first.

“shut up. i’m just saying... never mind.” mj glares at you and peter, ned and betty making kissing noises behind her. “someone change the subject.” peter steps in. “when’s the game, harry?” he asks, harry snapping and waving his finger. “tomorrow! cancel your plans, kiddos.” “like we had any,” betty retorts.

some of you did. that was going to be peter’s hangout with you.

ned smiles sympathetically at peter before betty is getting his attention. you‘re unfazed and rambling to harry how proud you are of him.

did last night mean nothing? was it an empty gesture? were you only doing it out of guilt? peter must have read your visit wrong. he’s been wrong the whole time he’s liked you. you don’t like him back, you pity him. harry is who you’re really interested in.

may always says he should trust his instincts.

peter pulls his arm from yours suddenly, swinging his backpack onto his shoulders. you’re taken back because it’s so out of no where. you stop talking to harry so you can figure out his deal. “where are you going?” “bell’s gonna ring,” peter mumbles and picks up his lunch tray. he heads to the garbage can without another word or goodbye to anyone.

“i’m gonna go check on him,” you tell harry, already getting up from the bench. “you do that,” he acknowledges and calls mj’s name again.

peter tosses his mostly untouched food in the trash, seeing you make your way over from the corner of his eye. he tries to speed walk inside so he doesn’t have to talk to you. you’re too quick, cornering him between the door and brick wall.

“we still have ten minutes,” you state, worry flashing across your face. he’s avoiding you. well, attempting to. “what’s wrong?” peter gulps before saying anything. “my next class is on the other side of the-“ “no,” you cut him off. “what’s really wrong?”

he doesn’t feel like having this discussion. it’s bad enough he came to the realization his feelings are one sided. must he break that down for you so soon?

you toy with your sleeve while you speak because peter doesn’t. “i thought you and harry were fine again. i mean, he kissed you.” peter clenches his jaw so hard he can imagine the sound of it cracking. “it’s not about harry.” “what, then? what the fuck happened?” your sleeves are now balled in your fists. you hate it when peter does this angsty routine.

he keeps his voice low and calm so he doesn’t come off as jealous or hurt. he’s both of those things. “the game is tomorrow. friday. when we were supposed to hang out.” you meet peter’s eyes with nothing but remorse in yours. “i... i forgot,” is all you have to say.

you feel awful. he’s had a tough couple of days, and you fell through on your promise to cheer him up.

“clearly,” peter remarks, voice sharp. the way you’re looking at him makes him think he won’t like what’s coming. “peter, we have to go,” you almost whine. “i’m really sorry, i am, but this is a big night for harry. he needs us there.” peter stays silent. you’re twisting the knife deeper into him with every word. “i wouldn’t be cancelling if this wasn’t important.”

now you’re cancelling?

you reach for peter’s hand, but he shoves it into his pocket. that stings for you and him. “please, peter. we’ll hang out at the game, i swear.” this is the last chance you’ve got, so you pile it on. “harry won’t even be there, technically. he’ll... he’ll be on the court.” peter hadn’t thought about that. he lets himself unclench, starting to see the appeal. you add one more thing to lighten the mood and persuade him.

“i’ll buy you popcorn, all you can eat.” it’s that easy. cracking a smile, peter accepts. he’ll deal with his unresolved, unreciprocated feelings after he stuffs his face, courtesy of you. “you better. i’m gonna need it for this long ass game.” your face lights up, grabbing his wrist in both hands.

“so, you’ll come?” “i’ll be there,” he confirms. you throw your arms around his neck. he laughs into the hug and holds you by your middle. “i promise this’ll be the first and last game we ever go to,” you say and mean it. harry is lucky you’re even suffering through this a first time. “thank god,” peter exhales, resting his chin on your head.

that interaction leaves peter confused as hell. you’re crushing his mind and soul one minute, then hugging him the next. you were making him feel so special lasts night, and treating harry the same way today. it’s so jumbled that he isn’t sure if he’s in the friend zone or something more zone.

there are a ton of mixed signals coming his way, and he sucks at reading people as is.

he can’t take another second of this. he’d rather you come out and say you like harry already because it’s torture. knowing you don’t want him in that way would at least eliminate the possibility of anything happening between you two, and allow him to stop driving himself insane.

he’d be able to stop taking it out on harry, too.

the hold you have on peter, that you’re oblivious to, rules his every thought and decision. he’s constantly analyzing what you say to him, debating whether or not your affection is simply platonic. it’s been half a year of this madness, the night of harry’s game blurring every line so much more.

your group arrives a bit early to find seats and hype harry up before he plays. peter gets there after all of you because he’s not exactly in a rush to watch sweaty guys be aggressive. there’s only one upside, which is spending the night with you... and everyone else.

he steps into the gym that’s filling up fast with family members, friends, and the college scout harry was talking about. midtown has a different feeling to it at night. the smell of pencils is oddly stronger, and it’s a lot less intimidating.

cheerleaders are huddled in a circle while the team supervisor has them run their chants. the “leading official,” who peter thought was called a referee, takes his place off to the side. coaches give their players last minute instructions, players fool around with each other, a lot is going on.

peter scans the room for you, and grins a toothy grin when you catch his eyes. you’re sitting by yourself in one of the middle bleachers, only a bag of skinny pop in your lap. you return the smile once you spot him and wave him over.

“i don’t know why, but i thought they’d have an actual concession stand,” you explain the lack of fresh, buttery popcorn as peter takes a seat next to you. he catches the prepackaged bag you toss him. “it’s just a snack table.” “works either way,” peter hums and pokes the bag. “i’m not sure skinny pop is all i can eat, though.” “it’s good!” you defend the snack you chose for him.

“i’m kidding! you’re right, it’s kind of addicting.” he puts it by his feet for now and gives you a half smile. “you’re welcome,” you deadpan in a playful tone. “thanks.” he narrows his eyes. “where’s everyone else?” “right,” you twist around and gesture to the bleacher above you. mj is gloomily seated near the back. ned and betty are a few behind you.

“i told them to find their own seats so we can sit together, alone.” you look over at peter and move ever so slightly closer. “welcome to our friday hangout. just the two of us.” “aw, you didn’t have to do that,” peter laughs out, his knee bumping yours. “but, i’m happy you did.” he goes to put an arm around you, then harry comes racing up the stairs.

just the two of you didn’t last so long.

“y/n, i’m freaking out,” harry announces, zooming through your row to get over to you. he stops once he’s standing in front of peter and shakes him by his shoulder. “hey, pete. you made it.” “yup,” peter replies, pressing his lips together. you wince at his reaction, then quirk an eyebrow at harry. “you’re freaking out? why?”

harry sits down between you and peter, blissfully unaware of the moment he interrupted.

“i found the scout. he’s fucking terrifying as fuck. this super ripped guy, looks like he’d rather be anywhere else,” he talks quietly, like the man will hear him. “he’s not the only one,” peter says to himself, kicking around his bag of popcorn to pass time. you ignore him and grimace.

“shit. wait, how do you know it’s him? did they tell you?” you’re not sure how these things go. harry casually shrugs a shoulder. “dude has a clipboard. seems legit to me.” he gives you a cocky smile. “he’s also in the row before mj. that’s how i noticed. um...” his back now facing peter, he whispers something in your ear that makes you giggle.

peter’s face scrunches up as the spark of anger the past few days have lit reignites itself.

when harry pulls away, you motion for him to come closer with your index finger, cupping your hand around his ear and speaking into it.

nope, no more. peter is entirely about to explode. you cancelled your plans so you can force him to watch basketball, you sweet talk him so he’ll let it go, and you’re running right back to harry after all of that? what the hell does that mean?

peter stands up from his seat. “y/n, we need to talk,” he demands, you moving away from harry to respond. “ok, gimme a minute. we’re-“ “no, we need to talk now.” you don’t have time to refute because he’s taking your arm and dragging you away. harry squints at you in utter confusion.

“um, have a good game! we’ll talk later,” you call back to him, walking with peter even though you have no idea what his issue is and aren’t a fan of how he’s acting.

he releases you once you’re in the hallway. you make a point of harshly yanking your arm back, a scowl painting your lips. “jesus, peter. i was having a conversation.” “do you like harry?” peter blurts out. you’re so shocked at his abruptness that you don’t give him much to work with, only, “what?” “do you like harry?” he asks you again, this time less accusing and more curious.

“do i like...” you’re too aware of the seemingly hundreds of people surrounding you to answer comfortably. “can we talk about this somewhere else?” “sure,” peter nods, letting you lead the way since he did to get out here. you two go down the hall and choose the first room you see, which happens to be the custodian’s closet. it’s thankfully unlocked.

things were tense between you and peter on the way over, and it’s physically mirrored when you step into the room, air thick and smelling of lemon cleaning supplies. you tug on the string hanging down to turn on the light. it casts a faded glow, leaving you in mostly darkness. you sort of like it. this feels more intimate, which is fitting for what you’re both about to say.

neither one of you knows where to begin. peter’s question is ringing in the back of your mind, and you could touch on that, but there’s more to it than a simple yes or no. you don’t have to worry about it because peter gets his words out first.

“i think harry likes you, and i think you like him back,” peter restarts, already sounding deflated by what he came up with. “he doesn’t, and i don’t.” you take a step towards him. “he likes mj.” it’s peter’s turn to be shocked. the hint of a smile sets on your lips. “that’s what we were talking about. harry asked if he should take her to dinner after the game, and i said yes.”

this is going better than he expected.

“mj is the one who likes him, not me,” you reiterate and watch some life enter peter again, a tiny bit. he’s coming around, and he wants to believe you. his trust issues don’t. “but, you’re so... touchy with each other. the hugging the other day?” he mentions. you tilt your head to the side in amusement. “friends can’t hug?”

to be fair, you hugged peter yesterday. that’s a point rightfully shut down.

“he calls you pretty,” peter tries, raising both eyebrows. you have to laugh at this one. “you call may pretty.”

obviously, peter’s analysis skills could use some serious improvements. it sounds like he had the right idea, wrong person. your relationship with harry is platonic. hell, he’s crushing on a whole different person. this actually opens up the possibility of you liking peter in the romantic way, of him being in the something more zone. he had it backwards.

in case peter isn’t convinced yet, and because you really want to, you use one more trick to prove to him you don’t like harry.

“do me and harry do this?” your lips speak for you, colliding with peter’s unexpectedly yet easily. he feels like he’s floating, like he’s in some sort of magical wonderland until it hits him that this is real, and he should probably kiss you back. he does so softly and tangles his fingers in your locks. his hand supports the back of your head as the kiss goes on.

you push forward so your bodies are almost fused together, the closest you can be while you hold his jaw. peter breaks the kiss for a short breather, going back in without more than a moment passing. this one is feverish, his free arm looping around your lower back, hand resting on the small of it. you let out a giggle against his swollen lips and stroke your thumb over his jawline.

he’s been waiting to do this for the longest time, but he doesn’t have to tell you that. it shows in how eager he was to reciprocate, his shyness blossoming into passion. you feel yourself melting under his touch, the kiss eventually becoming a series of short pecks. peter gives you the final one. his pink lips form a grin when you pull apart. your hands stay on each other, not in a rush to go anywhere.

“woah, i like you so much,” peter laughs out. the words roll off his tongue naturally. “you know i like you,” you drawl, smiling at him, a full body smile while you caress his skin. he winds both arms around you and dips his head down to steal another kiss. you’re loving what’s happening. however, you don’t feel like making out while dirty brooms stare at you. you should take this back home.

“wanna get out of here? i do,” you suggest, voice muffled from his lips. they detach from yours and brush your cheek gently. peter makes a funny face. “hm, i thought we had to come. harry needs us,” he says what you did yesterday, earning a groan back. “you’re joking.” “i’m not. what kind of friends would we be, ditching him like that?”

he’s going to end you one day.

“yeah, no. i have no idea how basketball works, and i’d like to keep it that way,” peter drops the act, pressing his fingers into your sides. “i’ve been so mean to harry. i was...” “a dick?” you finish for him. it’s more of a statement than a question. to soften the blow, you rub his cheek with the tips of your fingers. “yup. he’s gonna think i hate him or something if we don’t stay.” his formerly smiley face is frowning.

“harry of all people will understand after we tell him our reasons,” you reassure him, nudging under his chin with your nose. “besides, he has other things to worry about. mj, the scout. it’s fine.” peter considers it, ultimately giving in to you like he always does, resting his forehead on yours. “i guess so. less distractions for him, yeah.” “exactly. that’s what i wanna hear.”

having his approval, you unwind yourself from him and head to the door. his fingers wrap around your wrist gently. “what about my popcorn?” a giggle escapes your lips. “you’re still on that?” “you said all i can eat!” his voice comes out high pitched, adorably high pitched.

“fine. i might have those bags you put in the microwave.” you smile when his fingers lock with yours, peter kissing the side of your head.

“even better. let’s go home.”

[volleychumps]

Hi hi hi! I just recently came across your blog and I’m loving it!!! Maybe an Akaashi, Bokuto, Kuroo, and Kageyama scenario where their S/O is a cheerleader and gets jealous when their team can’t take their eyes off them maybe?

Thank you for the request!! Oh, and btw you guys, I’m trying to do my requests in the order I get them and I usually have enough energy to do maybe one a day, two at most:(

Also, I switched up the character selection a bit so we could get more of the teams! Hope that’s okay!

Jealous Boys with a S/O who’s a cheerleader (w/ Akaashi, Kuroo, Kageyama, and Iwaizumi) 

---------------------------------------

Akaashi

“You’re cheering for us today?” 

“Yep! It’s my first time at one of your matches, I’m so excited!” You grin at your boyfriend, shaking your pom poms brightly as Akaashi bites back a smile, allowing you to plant a kiss on his cheek lovingly before moving to run back to your girls. 

“Good luck!” 

“You too.” 

“Y/N, you have to take your jacket off!” 

“Oh shoot, yeah oops.”

Akaashi stalls, glancing back as he heard that conversation. His eyes widen when you unzip your team jacket, revealing your cheer uniform. Your uniform hugged your breasts appreciatively, and it wasn’t good that he found it hard to breathe when he saw the length of your skirt. 

Who? Just who makes skirts that short? He thinks irritably before you suddenly turn to him to catch him staring. He gulps when you wink flirtatiously, blushing when your friends seem to make a comment about him to you as you wave them off, making a motion like yeah, that’s my boyfriend. 

Akaashi shakes his head. Cheer is what you do, who was he to make a comment at the...choice of attire? 

Clearing his head, he jogs back to his team, ready to warm up to play his best in front of you until he hears Konoha whistle appreciatively along with Komi, obviously eyeing up the cheerleaders. 

Akaashi blinks. It was fine, right? There were like, eight of you, they wouldn’t single-

“Bro, that (H/C) one though? Damn, she’s something else.” Komi blushes as Bokuto suddenly sweat drops.

“Thank god for mini skirts, looks like we’ll have a pretty nice view for when we play.” 

“Konoha, you’re such a perv.” 

“Sarukui, you just don’t know the ways of the cheerleader, observe the (h/c) one for instance, see her thighs? I would kill-” 

“Uh Konoha, I think you should stop-” 

“What, Bokuto? Aren’t you the one who’s into this kinda stuff too?” 

“No, but I am.” 

The whole team pause, glancing over at the quiet setter who had his brows furrowed in an obvious expression of distaste, blue-green eyes seeming to blaze directly into his teammates as Konoha quirks an eyebrow playfully, drawing up to the setter before Bokuto could stop him. 

“Huh? You too Akaashi? Which one’s the cutest to you, huh? Tell us~” 

Bokuto palms his face at the situation Konoha was digging himself in, deciding it was a lost cause before Akaashi scoffs, his lips pulling up in a slight snarl as he pretends to think. 

“Hm. That’s a tough one.” 

The Fukurodani team all exchange inquisitive looks with one another when Akaashi’s feet suddenly bring him to your position in front of the stands, bouncing up and down with your other cheer friends. Your eyes brighten when they see Akaashi, breaking out of the practice formation to jog up to him. 

“What’s up, love? Don’t you play soon?”  Akaashi puts both hands on the sides of your face and tilts your jaw upwards, his lips falling gently on yours before moving at a pace that was strangely possessive as your cheeks begin to burn. You knock on his chest with your fist as Akaashi kisses you harder, only letting you go when your breaths turn unsteady. 

 He had done that. In front of both your teams. 

Your boyfriend pulls back, blue-green eyes seeming to blaze as he swipes his thumb at the lipstick stain he had left, ensuring it was off before nodding once to you and beginning to walk away. 

“A-Akaashi-you-what-why-” 

“That one on the cheek earlier wasn’t enough luck.” Akaashi shrugs to you as he walks back to his gaping team, clasping Konoha on the shoulder as he swipes at the slight amount of lipstick on the corner of his mouth. 

“I don’t know, I think that one’s pretty cute.” 

“Akaashi, I didn’t know-” 

“Well, it’s a good thing you do now.” 

The Fukurodani team all shiver once in unison. Akaashi, the usual calmest member on the team, seemed the most dangerous when pissed off. 

Kuroo

“Good luck today, kitten. Try to cheer for me only, okay?” 

“You’re the one doing the hard stuff.” You grin up at your boyfriend as Kuroo smirks down at you, leaning to press a quick kiss on your forehead lovingly before pinching one of your cheeks, causing you to pout. 

“You’re really pretty, you know that?”

“Go! You start soon, dummy!” You blush, pushing your boyfriend forcefully away when his team enters the gym, running away from your boyfriend’s smirking figure in slight embarassment that his team almost caught the two of you like that. 

Kuroo strides up to his team, hands clasped around his neck before taking a seat on the bench as Kai and Yaku begin to go through the plays, not noticing the way Lev and Inuoka both shared small gasps. 

“Whoaaa, so we actually do have cheerleaders?” 

“H-How am I supposed to focus?” 

“Lev, just focus on the game.” 

“That (H/C) one is the prettiest!” 

Kuroo quirks an eyebrow, diverting his gaze. That caught his attention. 

“Uh, Lev, I wouldn’t-” 

Kuroo covers Kenma’s mouth, a sly grin making its’ way onto his face as Yaku and Kai both exchange looks knowingly. Before either of the third years can stop their team captain-

“Oh? What’s so pretty about her?” 

“S-She’s on par with Karasuno’s manager.” Yamamoto stutters slightly as Kenma shoves off Kuroo’s hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Someone like that goes to our school?” 

“Ne, Inuoka, do you think if I play good enough she’ll notice me?” 

“It wouldn’t hurt to try, Lev!” 

“Yep, it wouldn’t hurt to try.” Kuroo’s tone seemed to turn slightly sardonic, his grin never leaving his face as Kenma rolls his eyes, turning away from the situation to pull his phone out and shoot a quick text. 

Y/N-san, please come over here before Kuroo kills one of my teammates.

Huh?

Just please come. 

You blink, making sure to note how much time you had left before you had to be in formation before beginning to walk over to where Kenma was, noticing that your boyfriend had his chin resting in his hand, his signature smirk resting on his lips as he listened to whatever his teammate was saying. 

“Shoot! Shoot, I think she caught me staring!” Lev looks down quickly after seeing your approaching figure, pom poms hanging loosely by your side as Inuoka clasps his shoulder. 

“Lev, you should talk to her!” 

“Yeah, Lev.” Kuroo grins as you come closer, Kenma sweatdropping at the fact that him asking you to come over wouldn’t bring understanding. “You should talk to her.” 

“Uh, Kuroo?” You tap your boyfriend’s shoulder nervously, trying not to make direct eye contact with any of the staring team. You shift uncomfortably as your boyfriend glances up at you, eyes playful yet kind of annoyed. 

In the next moment, Kuroo had pulled you into his lap, leaving his teamates (The ones that didn’t know already) with their jaws agape you yelp and try to break free. 

“Babe, I came over here because Kenma said you might kill someone!” 

“It’s a good thing he did.” Kuroo nuzzles his face into your neck, opening one eye posessively as the first and second years begin to stutter out apologies. His hands trace over your bare thighs as you flush, hiding your face with both hands. 

“Everyone, meet (Y/N). My totally pretty cheerleader girlfriend who just so happens to be on par with Karasuno’s manager.” 

“Knock it off.” You force yourself out of his hold as Kuroo pulls you back down to kiss your forehead quickly, putting the cherry on top of the situation before you dash back to your own team in embarrassment. 

“Kuroo-senpai, I-” 

“It’s alright, Lev!” Kuroo smiles a little too nicely at the first year’s stuttered apology. 

“Just make every single receive and we’ll call it even.” 

“W-what if I don’t?” 

“You better hope you do.” 

Kageyama

“Look, I won’t embarass you, so just focus on your setting, okay?” You smile up in reassurance at Kageyama’s blushing figure, his blue eyes struggling to stay on your face because of your cheer uniform. He thought you looked amazing of course, but- 

“T-this is just the first time you’ve been at one of my matches-” 

“And I’m sure you’ll do great. So don’t overthink it, alright?” 

Kageyama’s eyes lock with yours before he nods once, turning around in a stiff posture away from your giggling self at how cute your boyfriend was. The dark haired boy jogs back to his team, all of whom had hardly realized the quiet setter’s disappearance. 

“Where’d you go, Kageyama?” 

“None of your business, boke.” 

“The cheerleaders are here to cheer for us! Noya-san, which lucky one shall we make fall today?” 

“You haven’t made any of them fall-” 

“That’s what you think, Suga-san.”

“Have you...ever seen her go to our school before?” Noya stares in awe, pointing directly at you shamelessly as Tanaka rests his elbow on Noya’s head for support, the same expression on his features as you giggle and jump with the rest of your team-

skirt flying high and all. 

Kageyama doesn’t look up, sipping from his water bottle as the comedic duo nearby him ogle the cheerleaders, noting it was just their nature before- 

“I think her name’s (Y/N)? She’s a first year.” 

“Are first years allowed to look that cute?” 

Kageyama’s grip on his water bottle tightens as Daichi gives them his signature stern glare, pushing the two towards the center of the gym. 

“If you have time to drool, you have time to warm up.” 

“W-wait, just let us try to talk to her-!” 

“Oi, Kageyama, we’re about to start, where are you going?” 

The blue-eyed boy had abandoned the clenched water bottle on the bench behind him, walking up to your giggling form with the most confidence he had ever mustered. 

“Kageyama!” You smile brightly, waving your friends to keep practicing without you before slow jogging up to your boyfriend. “Did you need some-?” 

The expression in the usually awkward’s boy was foreign to you as he spins you around by the shoulders so your back is facing him, pulling your hair out of your tight ponytail. You blink as his fingers run through your hair, gathering it all up to put it up again.

“What-?” 

“I didn’t mention it earlier, but it’s messy.” 

“I could’ve-!” 

“It’s fine.” Kageyama cuts you off, slipping your hair through the tie perfectly as you touch your hair for good measure, turning your head to smile sweetly in thanks. 

“This is new. But I like it. I like it a lot.” You say a bit shyly, looking down at your pom poms before Kageyama suddenly embraces you from behind, hugging your back into his chest as you flush at the strange affection he rarely showed. It only lasted a mere few seconds, and you laugh at how red his cheeks had turned, not being able to resist placing a kiss on the side of his jaw. 

What you didn’t know, was that you were just adding on to the show that Kageyama was putting on for his team, staking his claim. As you waved him off, cheeks pinkened from the foreign actions, you then notice the slacked jaws of the Karasuno team. Hesitantly, you offer an awkward wave as most of them awkwardly wave back. 

“Kageyama, you could’ve just said that she was-” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Iwaizumi

“Since when do the cheerleaders come to the volleyball games?” 

“Since today, apparently.” You cheekily grin at your ace boyfriend, Iwaizumi rolling his eyes in turn as you pout. “What, are you not happy I’m here?” 

“No...I just don’t want to get um, distracted.” 

You blink, glancing down at your cheer attire before smirking slightly. “Oh? And what would get you distracted?” 

“Cheeky brat.” Iwaizumi mumbles in slight irritation, ears reddened as he pinches your cheek, causing you to whine. “The other fools in the stands might look at you.” 

“Wow, babe. I’m suddenly glad you don’t come to watch me cheer.” 

“What-?”

“Nothing!” You chirp, pulling Iwaizumi’s collar down to meet your lips quickly as you take off running before he can scold you, leaving the third-year a blushing mess at the hands of a first-year. Scowling, he turns back as his team joins him in the gym, pumped for the next set. 

“Oho, is the reason I think you went before us the correct one?” Oikawa’s smirk is infuriating and knowing, Iwa shoving him in his shoulder with his own. 

“Shut it, you piece of trash.” Iwa warns, beginning to stretch his legs before he pauses, seeing you take off your jacket from across the court along with your other teammates, feeling his breathing hitch. 

Damn did you look good in uniform. 

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who thought that. Oikawa’s low whistle from next to him was enough for Iwa to “accidentally” throw his water bottle over his shoulder, feeling satisfied with the sound of pain that came from his best friend. 

“Hah, I’m so nervous...” 

“Is it because of the cheerleaders, Kindaichi?” Kunimi sighs, wrapping his fingers as Kindaichi scratches the back of his neck, cheeks flushed.

“W-well, yeah...plus (Y/N) from our class is part of it.” 

Iwaizumi stalls. 

“Yeah. I get it. It’s totally different seeing her in uniform.” Kunimi shrugs, not looking up from his taped fingers. Iwa feels an emotion he can’t describe rise in his chest, the breaths through his nose starting to become ones to control his breathing. 

“Whoaaa, lemme see!” Yahaba pushes Watari’s head down, smirking slightly as his eyes trace shamelessly over your exposed skin from a distance. “She’s a first year? Damn Kindaichi, have you made your move yet?” 

“W-WHat? I don’t like her, I heard she’s dating a senior! It’s just new seeing her so...” 

“Exposed?” Kunimi offers, still not noticing the amused team captain and deadly aura their ace was giving off as Kindaichi nods brightly to his friend.

“Yeah! That.” 

Hanamaki and Mattsun both take careful steps in front of the first years, being sure that they’re blocking the view from the now pissed-off ace. 

“Now, Now Iwa...” 

“We need them for when we leave, please don’t hurt them.” 

“Uh...senpai? Why-?” 

The humorless chuckle that slips Iwa’s lips is able to silence the whole team, sending shivers down the underclassmen’s backs as Kyotani watches on, indifferent.  

“You wanted to know why, right Yahaba?” 

“U-um..yes?” The last part comes out as a squeak as Iwa’s suddenly lifting himself out of stretching position and walking up to you, fire on his heels. You yelp when Iwaizumi’s strong grip clasps on your forearm, careful not to hurt you but still being a tad forceful about it as he pulls you away from your now confused team. 

“Iwa?” You blink as Iwa jerks his jacket off his body in hasty movements, dark eyes brimmed with a possessive kind of feeling as he wraps it around your upper body, not even letting your arms through the holes as the sleeves hang loosely at your side. 

As he’s zipping it up, his dark eyes are stare into yours with an intensity that made you gulp.  “I’m suddenly glad I’ve never come to see you cheer.” He grits out, fingers lifting your chin upwards so he could capture your lips aggressively, leaving your breathing unsteady when he pulls back, a bit of your lipstick on the corner of his mouth as he smirks slightly at your dazed features. 

“Good. Now they know.” 

You blink, still in a daze as you adjust Iwa’s jacket so that you could wear it with the sleeves, turning back to your shocked team with widened eyes. To your dismay, they were all giggling and motioning you back into the circle to tell them what had just occurred, your friends already fixing your lipstick for you as you try to hide your face in embarrassment. 

Oikawa’s amused grin for once, doesn’t piss off the ace as Iwa goes back to stretching as if nothing had happened. “Iwa, you’ve got a little something-” 

“Leave it.” Iwa doesn’t look up from his legs, his tone taking on a chilling one as he taps the lipstick mark on the corner of his lips once. The underclassmen all share a shiver as Iwa lifts his head, dark eyes spinning with triumphant rage as Hanamaki and Mattsun sigh. 

“Just in case they forget.”