#i wish you luck though anon! write back and tell us all if you manage to find a copy!

[zoophagist]

Hi, do you know any places where I can read/download "Book of Renfield"? After your posts I really want to check it out, but Amazon refuses to ship stuff to my town ><

hey! that makes me so excited to hear that you're interested in it! (when will tim lucas start paying me for being that book's entire marketing team?) i got mine used years ago, so i'm not totally sure, but you may be able to find it in used book marketplaces online! one of my friends recently had success that way, and found it pretty cheap. not sure where you're trying to ship to, so i don't know how helpful i can be suggesting a specific site that will work for you, but alibris, thriftbooks, and biblio have all saved me in a pinch in the past. ebay even seems to have several copies. and not to state the obvious but if you haven’t already, maybe try your local library! lots of libraries will take purchase requests, so even if they don't already have it, they might be able to purchase a copy that you can then check out!

[its-deputy-caleb]

Hiii, could i have a request for how the gang members would react to meeting a historian or explorer in the wild?? thank you! I love your blogs sm!!

anon ily <3333 i went wayy overboard with these but i regret nothing bc this was soo cute and fun to write. I hope u enjoy and i made it gn for everyone. I only did the VDL boys for this but if enough ppl like it i might do the girls with something similar idk yet?

Dutch Van Der Linde

Dutch first laid eyes on you when you were hanging off the edge of a cliff after slipping when you got too close to the edge. He immediately ran over to you, helping you off the cliff and getting you settled back on your feet.

He seemed genuinely concerned and agreed to help you safely record the rock carving that was on the side of the cliff face, keeping you from falling.

You were a historian and had been studying these mysterious rock carvings after meeting an equally mysterious man, Francis Sinclair.

You didn’t see much of Dutch Van Der Linde after that until you ran into him again in Saint Denis in the saloon. He remembered who you were instantly and started up a conversation about your work where you chatted away for hours.

You became very close after that and he often accompanied you to Museums and fancy fundraisers that you were invited to.

He’d always get dressed up and complimented your finer outfits which was such a difference to the field gear you’d have on. You’d spend all night chatting away over nice champagne and dancing together before actually engaging with other guests but you didn’t have a care in the world with Dutch in your life.

Arthur Morgan

Arthur finds you standing in the middle of a field, flipping over rocks and staring numbly at what appeared to be a map in your hands.

When he approached you he soon learnt you were a young amateur explorer about to get your big break with a treasure hunt but you couldn’t find the gold bars for the life of you.

Arthur gave you a heart warming smile and held up a gold bar after retrieving it from his satchel having felt a little bad that he’d discovered it not a week before you.

The two of you laughed about it, calling yourself a fool for trying to find it for so long when it was clearly missing— the thought that someone took it clearly never crossed your mind.

Arthur was always a gentleman however and promised to make it up to you. After taking you to dinner and getting to know him better, you spent the next few days camping out and finding a new treasure together.

You travelled through caves and through valleys of flowers to find this treasure. Sometimes it was so beautiful that the two of you just stopped by a stream to let your horses rest and enjoy the scenery.

When you finally found the treasure you gave Arthur a big hug in excitement which caught him by surprised but he happily returned. He let you keep the treasure and wished you luck with more exploring but of course that wasn’t the last time you saw Arthur again.

Charles Smith

Charles meets you one day while you’re out surveying wildlife. You specialised in conservation, wanting to study and protect animal species.

Fresh out of the university from Saint Denis you’d been dying to get out of the confining city and explore the heartlands. That’s where a kind gentleman named Charles Smith had offered to protect you and show you around the herds of bison you’d taken to studying.

You spent days together riding the over the hills and following the herd as they travelled. While you were Charles told you all about his family and the respect and love they have for the beautiful creatures.

It was amazing the array of knowledge Charles knew about bison and you couldn’t stop the smile on your face as he told you about the characteristics of the bison. You rushed to take notes in your journal, knowing that all that he told you would help you study and protect these animals.

“Do you think it’ll actually do any good? The work you’re doing?”

“One can only hope Mr.Smith but I will do everything in my ability to protect such beautiful creatures.”

Even when you had to return to the city for study you constantly wrote to Charles, staying in touch and keeping him updated with all your work. It was hard to say goodbye to someone you’d grown close to but you made regular visits to each other long after that.

John Marston

You first found John in the saloon after a long day at work, in desperate need of a drink. Being a zoologist you instantly noticed the scars on his face and would’ve guessed a wolf was the animal that caused the damage.

The two of you instantly started up a conversation and shared all kinds of stories. He told you about being up on the mountain while you showed him the scar on your arm from your run in with a cougar.

You were collecting a compendium of all the animals across the heartlands and during the months you worked on it, you ran into John more than once.

He was always curious about your work and you often spent time together in the afternoon sun, showing him the animals you’d found so far.

“What about the stray dogs in town or do you only deal with cougars and wolves?”

“Well they’re animals too aren’t they not?”

Even though you couldn’t see John all the time, he often came along with you to see the wildlife and covered you when you were around particularly dangerous animals and you enjoyed every second you had with him.

Micah Bell

When Micah met you he had absolutely no idea what you were on about. In his mind the whole idea of a palaeontologist is ridiculous and made up, much less the fact that you chose to read books and study in your spare time.

At first he doesn’t do anything but mock your work but after running into you time and time again he finally started to come around.

He grew more and more curious when he saw the drawings in your sketch books of dinosaurs and even more so when he laid eyes on the fossils. But knowing Micah, he’s still incredibly stubborn.

“Ain’t no way that thing is real.”

“One needs an open mind to comprehend what’s prehistoric Mr.Bell. It requires a certain practice.”

Every so often on your work you’d run into Micah who’d be riding around on his horse, just passing by. By now you’d consider him a friend and your face lit up as he pulled a small ammonite fossil from his bag.

It wasn’t really your area of expertise but you could tell he wanted to impress you and seemed almost nervous as you examined the fossil. Nonetheless you could tell it was real and you let him keep the small fossil as a reminder of you until the next time you saw him.

Javier Escuella

Javier meets you when you’re down my the docks, trying to capture the sunlight and noticed him fishing.

Not wanting to disturb him you kept out of his hair until you heard him cheer loudly at a catch he managed to pull in. In your particular interest in animals, you couldn’t help but ask if you could take a photo of the fish he’d caught.

From then on the two of you became friends, often running into each other as you tried to capture landscapes and wildlife.

You’d always spend the day together and you’d show him how to use a camera while he showed you how to fish and play the guitar.

When you spent time apart you’d often write to each other to fill the gap. You’d always send pictures with little writing on the back of them while he sent you poems and songs that he wrote for you, promising to play them for you next time you’d meet.

In your personal journal you have the first picture you ever took of Javier, kept safe between the pages. He’s standing along the docks, facing the away from the water as he holds up a large sturgeon and a large smile.

You and Javier always stay in touch and after he told you of his chaotic and dangerous time in guarma he made light of it by telling you about all the different wildlife he saw while he was there.

Bill Williamson

Bill stumbles upon you in the wild by accident. He’s out scouting a lead when he ended up getting lost through the shrubbery and found you examining flowers closely.

When you told him you were a botanist he looked as if you’d just spoken a different language to him because he didn’t have a clue as to what that meant. Bill always made you laugh fondly at the confused look when you told him all the scientific names of flowers.

In Bill’s mind, a flower was a flower. There was purple flowers and blue flowers and even red ones but they didn’t have their own names.

The next time Bill ran into you he brought you what he thought was a bouquet of white flowers. Instead they were actually a species of weed that was poisonous when eaten but it didn’t stop you from smiling and hugging him which was the intended purpose.

In light of that incident Bill was actually curious about some plants, trying to learn about them more. When Bill went exploring with you he pointed out some of his favourites and you picked a few to put them in the brim of his hat for him to take him back to camp.

When you run into him again Bill tries to give you another flower, this time actually understanding the plant he’d picked was a Vanilla Flower Orchid or the Vanilla planifolia but he never learnt how to pronounce it unlike you.

With a high blush Bill placed the flower behind your ear and you pulled him into a hug, being careful not to crush the beautiful flower.

[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!

[mcyt-imagines-library]

I just read your “Technoblade s/o betrays him” and loved it

But then I started making up scenarios in my head like-

ok so what if his s/o betrayed him because the other side was holding very important people from the s/o like siblings, or someone else very very important to them and used them against them

(also may I please be 🐉 anon??))

I’m loving these reactions lol. I’m gonna try my hand at writing some dialogue, wish me luck

*Writing this to Snow by Ricky Montgomery

**Little bit of canon divergence btw

Technoblade’s S/O Betrays Him, Pt. 2

When the bust had happened, nearly everyone had gotten away. Niki managed to get away and run to her underground city, Ranboo was pardoned by Tubbo and was taken back to Snowchester, and Phil had managed to fly off at Techno's request before he was shackled, each of them promising to return to help him.

It had been a few days, now being locked in Pandora's Box in a mid level security solitary cell, half waiting for them to fulfill their promises and half trying to plan his own breakout. That was, until you came to visit him.

While you weren't exactly the first person he wanted to see pop up at his cell, he did want answers. Mainly one answer though.

What all was a lie?

Was all that time you spent talking with him about how you believe all unfair establishments should crumble a lie? Was you calling everyone family and caring for them a lie?  Were all of those times you spent in his room together all a lie too? Was it all just to get him to trust you? Because if so, it worked. He just wished it hadn't.

You nervously stood in front of Technoblade’s cell, your eyes trained on the metal bars that were bolted into the small window. Sam gave you a quick rundown before he left, telling you to call him if anything gets out of hand. You nodded and waved him off as he walked through the long, black bricked hallway and, presumably, back to the front desk. 

When he was gone, you noticed an oppressive silence in the prison wing. You figured that you’d be able to hear, at the very least, the distant sound of a few particularly strong waves lapping at he lower walls of the building, but no. The only noises were your’s and Technoblade’s breathing.

After a few minutes of those sounds, you figured it was enough to make someone go mad. You could only guess how Technoblade felt. 

“Why are you here?”

Your eyes shot up from pristine iron bars and to your, most likely ex, boyfriend.

He was across from you, sitting on a bed hanging from the wall, his back pressed against the cold bricks. His pink hair was hung around his face in clumped strands, his amber eyes were trained on you, refusing to break the slightest bit of eye contact. You could see, from the small tusks that poked out from the bottom row of his teeth, that his face was twisted into a grimace.

You averted your eyes from him and onto the rest of his little cell. There was a toilet, the shitty little brick of a bed he was on, and a small lamp that hung from the ceiling. 

He quickly got up and, within a few steps, grabbed at his barred window, wrapping one of his hands around a bar, the other hand hitting a few others, causing a loud ‘bang’ to echo through the hallway. His expression got more intense. “Why are you here?”

You jumped back from both the sudden noise and the harshness in his tone. 

blinked tears from your eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t- it was Quackity!” you blurted out.

While his expression didn’t lighten up, he made a small confused sound, urging you to elaborate.

You let out a small, awkward and stilled laugh while you rubbed your eyes, blinking away tears.

You began to explain how Quackity wanted him gone and, instead of getting his own hands dirty, he made you the pawn. By taking someone you cared for so deeply, a young sibling figure, and dangling them over your head, he had effectively trapped you into his own one sided war. 

Technoblade looked tired. Any angry pretenses he once held were dropped and he looked exhausted. The dark rings around his eyes were more obvious in the light of the hallway, as were the scratches and burns on his face and arms from the fight. 

“How much were you lying about, then?“ His voice had gotten the littlest bit more gentle. Not quite what he would use when you two were alone, but the same tone he’d use around the rest of the syndicate. 

“Nothing with you was a lie, Tech,” you let out a small laugh of disbelief. “Me falling for you wasn’t even part of the plan, it just happened. I never faked my feelings, they were just there.”

He steeled his gaze. “I can’t forgive you. You betrayed me and the rest of the syndicate.“

“I know. I know I did. And I know I can’t make this right, not in full, but I can still try,” you lowered your voice and looked him in the eyes before you wrapped you softly touched the hand that was wrapped around one of the bars. “I’m going to get you out. I don’t care how long it takes, I don’t care if I get hunted down afterwords, I don’t even care if I die in the process, I’m going to free you. I promise.“

His expression had fully softened, your touch being a nice change of pace for the last few days. He placed his forehead against the bars and let out a sigh. You following in suit, standing on your tip toes and placing your head against the bars too. 

Against the protests of the voices in his head, maybe there was still a small part of him that loved you.

[remsmoonlight]

— title : sweeter than candy

— word count : 3k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : daryl is good at keeping things buried, but when the thought of words left unsaid do you both realise you have both been thinking the same thing about the other. 

— warnings : mentions injuries, mentions of death

“ hi!! OMGG I came across your account and I’m obsessed with your writing!! I was wondering if you could write a Daryl Dixon x Reader following candy coated promises. Where Daryl has developed feelings for reader and following an errand run she gets injured and has to stay in bed. And Daryl find out! If that makes sense! Thank you!!! “

           ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*   requests are open ! / requested by anon *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A deep desperation of yearning to be useful has led you to forget the risks involved in the interminable list of things that wish to cause you harm and are able to on such an intense scale. Luck had been on your side for so long, the illusion of life’s greatest ally refusing eluding your group for this long has proved itself to be just that — nothing more than an illusion. Once the burning of fear had dulled to nothing more than a dim ache, all you now feel is the one wound that does not run red yet pours into your veins as if it does. Stupidity. You’d volunteered yourself to go on a run with a small group, you’d spent enough time before the barbed wire fences, that you felt yourself becoming trapped.

A deep regret that would follow you even in death would be if any of your group would, too, meet their chapter’s end too soon by an immense error made on your part.

One thing that lays dormant in your mind, yet unable to completely fade is the fear of becoming too settled in safety. Spending too much time wrapped in a blanket of comfort that provides refuge from the grit the outside world revels in only hands you a vulnerability unsuitable for a reality submerged in death that roams freely. You don’t want to forget how to survive, you’ve come too far for that.

Part of that is how you have ended up being put to bedrest.

Your brain is yet to sort through and file the fleeting images that blend together into one disorientating image instead of a folder of what had occurred picture by picture. In one instance the group and yourself had been rummaging through the shelves that still contained some stock and the next, you’re rushing Maggie out of the way and pushing over shelves onto a growing horde of walkers. Though in the next second, your heart fell a thousand feet below as you lost your balance from the liquid coating the floor from where they’d tumbled and smashed to the floor, with the shards of glass forming a bewitching hazard.

“ your ankle still givin’ you trouble? “

The voice pulls you out of your thoughts, your sight settling on Maggie.

“ I don’t know if that hurts more or if these scratches do. “ You complain, your fingers lightly tug at the bandages that cover the fresh wounds that coat both of your palms, you take note of a number of loose fibres from the material.

“ Glass’ll do that to ‘ya. “ She chuckles, slowly moving into the room. She grabs a chair from the metal desk on the side and moves it next to your bed. “ I never got a chance to say thanks. “

“ You don’t have to worry about it. “ you refuse, shaking your head in turn.

“ I feel it’s my fault you’re like this. “

“ If we’re going to blame anyone, let’s blame my eyesight. I should have seen that wet patch. I should have been more careful. “ Frustration that burns bright in your reply as you turn away from her. Perhaps you’d spent too much time concealed from the harsh reality that constantly claws at you all as it takes refuge in a thick coat of a hauntingly isolating fog as it waits to drag you down with it further into the depths.

Mistakes are synonymous with fatalities now, one moment you’re on top of the world and in the next you can be in a free fall clutching the thin air as if it should be your saviour. Never have moments been promised, and this fact has never shone clearer than when the dead claimed the Earth for itself in an effort to void it of life wholly.

“ Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. “ Maggie brings a hand forward to squeeze your shoulder momentarily, a comforting smile packaged with it easing some of the self loathing you could feel weaving itself into your being.

“ I don’t have much to do in here by myself, I have to keep myself entertained somehow. “

“ Well, I got an idea.. “ She trails off, a mischievous grin lifting her lips.

“ Maggie.. “ You utter a strict warning, already knowing where the conversation is about to lead.

She pauses for a second, laughter bouncing from grimy wall to grimy wall as she reacts to your cautionary tone, the light in her eyes bursting with the power of a thousand stars as it illuminates her features. Gratitude for the fleeting moments of rare normalcy that reflects a past occurrence in the old world runs deep, for a fraction of a second you can pretend you’re simply two friends joking about something goofy and foolish. For a minute, you’re not sheltering in a decrepit prison as you run from walkers, it’s a perfectly average afternoon.

“ You can’t tell me you don’t realise the way he looks your way now? I know you’ve been lookin’.. “

“ Okay, I think I'm tired now. “ You huff, shifting your body as to your ability with your injured ankle to face the wall that has an array of stains permanently painted into its surface.

Maggie only laughs in response, the sounds of steps dulling into nothing more than a ghost of an echo that informs you of her departure. Her words have pulled a string you’d not wished to pay attention to until it would be absolutely necessary. Needless to say that as much as you’d tried to bury the budding seeds of affection into the dirt, they’d only bloomed in force into a sea of colour with the evidence left to coat your fingertips for everyone to see.

Never had it been your intention to entertain this idea, when anything positive you’ve managed to seize with both hands can be ripped away so unexpectedly that you are left to nurse the empty space left behind of what once had been, grieving the idea of what could have been. However, there’s a dim curiosity that softly grows in size that envelopes around you, compelling a desire to reacquaint yourself with a human intimacy that fell to the back of the queue as the instinct to survive overwhelmed it. You don’t want to fear living, you don’t want to fear connecting to others on a deeper level, but you can’t help but simply.. be afraid.

Had you been in a different reality where the world continued on as normal, you would have probably fallen under his spell sooner.

Only after that one night you’d spent on watch together after he’d gone out of his way to bring you such a simple gift illuminated him in a way that your sight would often lean towards him. Many times you would find yourself analysing his actions on a deeper level, a coy warmth burying itself in the pit of your stomach when realising he’d included you in his thought process. From the chocolate bar, to you being the first person he’d check on if you needed anything before heading out on a run, to even the simple act of being there just to talk when life felt rough. A shape of one Daryl Dixon had been carved out by the man before either of you had realised.

A thunderous groan erupts from your lips as you turn onto your back to stare at the bunk on top with the realisation hitting you like a train threatening not to stop. You completely adore the Dixon.

About an hour away from the Prison Daryl secures the last of the rabbits caught, they swing side to side with each of his calculated movements. All Daryl finds himself wanting to do is to get back to the Prison, unable to push down the inclination of being back to the comfort the life behind those metal fences bring. It’s been a long day and all he’s interested in is getting back to those he holds dear.

That thought is when a fleeting frame of your face crosses his mind. Though he speaks not of which he truly wishes to share, the time you do spend together is something he cherishes more than a billionaire would with all of the money and rubies in the world if they had them in the palm of their hands. The darker side of him, the side that would always listen to those who preferred to taint his waters with their gloom, doesn’t allow the emotions constantly swirling within him to be touched by the burning sun rays as they are laid bare.

Heavy breaths fall without grace from his chest as he’s let through the gates, the stony expressions etched deeply into Carol’s features. No words need to be uttered to know it’s to do with you, Daryl doesn’t even allow a thought before he’s making his way on a path he has walked a thousand times and will walk a thousand times more. Creaks that echo in the darkening corridors that are not lit by the comforting flames of candles, the prison sounding as if it’s more in pain than it appears — still, he pays no care. His only goal is to check on you, he’d be unable to forgive himself if anything were to happen to you and he’d never be able to see you one last time. His brain conjures a number of horrific scenarios and tainted pictures to accompany them as it runs wild in a sea of dread.

The crossbow that had been secured in Daryl’s grip is lowered gently to the ground as he scans your form, a grateful sigh when he sees the slow movement of breathing.

He lowers himself into the chair next to your bed, trying to pinpoint the moment he’d stopped gazing upon your form as a friend to replace it with an aura of starlight — no longer did he see the colour of your eyes, but galaxies full of life and wonderment. Daryl allows himself a few seconds to chase each other by as he considers his next action, though deep down he’s aware his decision had already been chosen, as he threads his fingertips into yours to allow your warmth to comfort the panic that had been raging at the thought of your demise. His thumb traces a circle that is light enough to keep you tucked away in a slumber and as a comfort technique for him, where his mind allows him the time to placate himself.

Before he’s aware of it, the sky blends into itself once more as the pastel hues paint it with dashes of gold from the sun as dawn breaks and he’s hunched over with your hands still connected as one — the position held the entire night. Nothing can be heard in the confined space except a symphony of soft breathing from you both, the serenity only the early hours in which no one is awake brings comfort to the sleeping forms of you and Daryl.

A lengthy yawn escapes your lips as your eyes fight to open as they blink heavily to adjust to the light that invades as much as it can. The weight of something lying comfortably in your hands confuses you, as you distinctly remember there had been no pressure previously, the image before you washes your entire body with the icy grip of shock as you scan the trail leading from the hand within yours to the person it belongs to. Teeth grip your bottom lip as you bite it, attempting to battle away a smile that wishes to break free, you can’t believe the sense of humour that the universe has. Not an inch is moved by any part of your body, you seek to savour the intensity that such a simple action bears, your eyes positively glowing in adoration as a softer side to the man is revealed. Moments like these are few and far between, it leaves you wanting to bottle it up and pocket it forever.

A squeak of displeasure cuts through the serenity the early hours have worked so hard to cultivate as you inch your injured ankle to the side, clearly different positions prove to be the opposite of beneficial. The noise is enough to wake Daryl, his sudden alertness makes you doubt whether he’d truly been in a deep rest, but it’s the least of your worries as he realises he spent the night with his grip connected to yours. The warmth that brought a grounding comfort to your being now is a phantom touch you crave again once an eerily coolness now surrounds your empty palm.

“ ‘M sorry ‘bout that. “

“ There’s nothing to apologise for, Daryl. It was nice. “ You confess, your volume touches the air with a softness of a feather that descends to below in an elegant waltz.

“ Mhm. “ He turns his gaze to the floor, a thumb is chewed upon lightly as he’s wondering what he should say next. “ ‘Was worried about ‘ya as soon as I got back. “

“ Yeah, things just kinda happened. “

“ ‘Ya gotta watch y’self more out there. “ He scolds you with a light scorch of misplaced anger that almost lays eternally with him, a wave of anxiety at the thought of losing you are twins in a realm of horror he never wants to bear witness to.

“ I know, Daryl. “

Poisonous words full of fire and fury born out of dread of your existence in his life being cut short itch to burn your indifference to the situation. As he settles his gaze upon you, all he can see are the stolen moments you both have shared away from the group, where the person he’d created in his head built without even speaking to had been smashed into shards the more he got to know — you’re a fresh breath of peace in an unstable world that thrives on chaos. Quiet moments where all he can hear are the flickering embers of the fire are the memories he finds himself kicking for, all that lost time to never be recovered due to his preconceived notions.

“ Do ‘ya? “ Daryl shakes his head in frustration, his soul a pot of swirling emotions and thoughts blinding him to the point he can’t see straight. “ I can’t lose ‘ya. “

His voice is so low you barely hear it, your brows thread together in the slightest form as they’re unused to the window of Daryl’s vulnerability being so widely open.

“ You won’t. “ A faint twitch of your lips means well, you try to comfort the man. Your touch is delicate as your palm overlaps his with warmth.

“ Y’can’t promise that. “

“ But I can try! “ You argue lightly, a bounce in your response.

“ Forget it. “ Daryl sighs harshly, shaking his head as if to rid himself of the thoughts that run circles around his mind.

“ Daryl! Wait. “ Your voice falls on deaf ears as he’s already halfway towards the exit of the room, for a moment you forget your injury and a burning sensation flies with boundless wings up your protesting muscles and you land in a heap on the floor. The bandages do nothing to cushion your fall, you cry out in pain from the intensity of the throbbing plaguing your body.

“ Why can’t ‘ya be careful!? Damn it. “

Before you know it, Daryl is level with you as you feel his touch grazing your skin — ensuring you’d not injured yourself further. Guilt pools in his stomach at the thought of your current suffering being his fault, his ire now directs itself brightly towards him.

“ Dar — what’s going on? Why are you acting like this? “ You quiz as your expression contorts into a grimace. You’d not seen him behave like this for what feels like a long century, even more so when directed towards you.

“ Like what?! Huh? “

“ You’re being crazy! “ You state, your finger jabs into his chest.

“ Ain’t it obvious? “ Daryl asks suddenly.

Your head shakes, confusion clouds your features as if it’s an angry storm that has waited long enough for the calm — nothing can be seen through the darkened skies. All you want is for the sunny rays of truth to shed light upon this mess.

“ ‘Ya mean more to me than you should. “

“ Daryl? Do.. do you — ? “

He nods suddenly, unable to hear the words out loud no matter how true they ring, because as real as it is. There would be no taking it back then. Your lips purse as a sad smile lifts itself with no help from you, your heart hurting as you realise this could have been avoided entirely since you both appear to be on the same page. You acknowledge the fact that actions would speak louder than words in this scenario, your fingertips brush through darkened strands of hair as if they play a sheet of music with the aging competence of a commanding pianist. This is one of many songs your mind finds itself conjuring, a burning hope of this forging something more between you. It’s not long before your arms are wrapped around his neck, with Daryl unable to believe the scene in which he finds himself in, you’re a sky full of stars that he finds himself wanting to get lost in.

“ We can take this one step at a time, yeah? “ You question softly, not wanting to be witness to the fleeting images of a set of angel wings.

He agrees silently, a warmth spreads outwards from your cheeks and treks outwards to cover your completely. The moment is sweet, as it concludes with a honeyed kiss on his tanned cheek. In one frame you both are thinking the same thing, just how lucky you are to have fought through your fears of living and given in to taking the plunge into unchartered waters that Maggie and Glenn have already found themselves navigating.

In a world full of the dead, you both agree that to love shouldn’t be a reason to cower and hide.

[neoculturetravesty]

We met in online class - Last Part

Image adapted from here.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, angst, fluff Warnings: Strong language Word Count: 3.4k

Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | You are on the Last Part

A/N: And so it comes to an end, and let me tell you guys, I am not okay 😔 This is going to be a bit of a longer A/N, so please bear with me. If you’d like to get straight to the story, I COMPLETELY UNDERSTAND, so feel free to click Keep Reading!

Lowkey, I had a bit of a meltdown as I typed the final words on this fic because I hadn’t realized how attached I had grown to the characters. This is the first time I wrote three different chapter openers before deciding on one, because I simply couldn’t believe it was goodbye after this.

These mofos had constantly been on my mind for the past two months and a half. I would spend most days thinking about where to take them and then bringing them to life at night, after my entire day was over. When I wasn’t writing, I’d make little notes about thoughts I had into the night about them so that I wouldn’t forget them when morning comes. 

This was my first ever (and as of right now, my only) chaptered fic. I had no idea parting with it would be as emotional as it was. When I think back to when I first received the prompt for this, I had never even imagined I could write Renjun, let alone a series. But there was something in the prompt that had gotten my wheels turning. And I am so immensely glad that it did. There were days when I thought “Oh man, what have I gotten myself into.” Some days, the story would just flow. Other days, I’d keep staring at the blinking cursor not knowing what to type. But when I did, I found my emotions so deeply connected with the characters. I was happy when they were happy. I was sad when they were sad. So, parting with them is very hard to say the least.

But through this journey, I got to experience the joy of reading all of your reviews and comments and honestly, it made it all worth it. THANK YOU to every single one of you that read this story and waited on it and laughed and cried with it. You have made my life better in more ways than you can imagine.

In this moment, I want to thank 🍙 anon, because it was their prompt that put me in this mess in the first place. And so, it is only fitting that I dedicate the final part to them 💛

“Oh, we definitely need a picture together. How about here? I think this place would fit everyone.” Kim Doyoung looks about, finding a spot best suited for the photo he wanted.

“I think right there on the platform would be better. We could get everyone in two tiers.” his assistant suggests.

“You’re a genius. Let’s gather everyone. It’s not often that so many NCTU grads and students come to Midnight Arthouse,” Doyoung nods.

“How many of us are here, anyway?” Renjun muses. The assistant looks at her iPad, checking once again.

“I think there’s 23 of you. So, let’s definitely go for the platform.” she nods.

“Okay, then.” Doyoung claps his hands together once, “Gather everyone,” he says to no one in particular and walks ahead with purpose. Renjun and the assistant’s eyes meet and they smirk. Of course this was directed to the both of them. So, they set about to work.

As it would turn out, gathering 23 people from a charity event with art and food and drinks would be a bit of a task. But somehow, they manage to gather all alumni and current students on the platform in three tiers instead of two for a somewhat chaotic picture. There must’ve been something in the water at NCTU because none of it’s students could stand still for very long. They get maybe one decent picture and several in which someone or the other was moving or pulling a face.

His friends aside, looking around at the group, Renjun realized that he recognized nearly all of them. Yangyang and Hendery and the rest of their frat were here. As were the 127s, old and new. Renjun recognized them all, except maybe two boys, who didn’t seem to know a lot of the others either. When the pictures were done and the main events were over and the crowd had started to dissipate, Renjun finally walked over to the artwork to observe it up close.

Honestly speaking, watching the work with his own two eyes left no doubt in his mind that this artist deserved to be spotlighted like this. This work was in a league of its own. Watching it makes Renjun smile; because looking at it makes him think back to a few months ago when he was sitting in Kim Doyoung’s office, thinking of himself as some sort of a big shot. But the truth is, there was no way he had that caliber then, and there is no way he has that caliber now, though he was sure as hell working on it.

“This is the piece I lost the bid on.” Renjun hears a voice and he turns around to see Zhong Chenle’s father observing the art with him. Renjun bows politely and smiles under his mask,

“I mean, this is a remarkable piece. You have good taste.” Renjun acknowledges.

“What about you? Why isn’t any of your artwork displayed here?” he asks and for a while, Renjun smiles a bit nostalgically. He could’ve been here, had he made something for the Annuale. Had he just selfishly taken that shot. Then again, there would’ve been no real guarantees. Because Kim Doyoung was pretty particular in the people he chose, whether they were recommended by his family or not. Working with him closely in the last couple of months had taught Renjun that. It had also taught him how underdeveloped his skill was in the real world context.

“I guess I still have a long way to go.” Renjun replies humbly.

“Don’t we all?” Chenle’s father nods, “Are you working here at this establishment?” 

“Um, I… I suppose I am. I am Kim Doyoung’s apprentice. He is my mentor.” Renjun nods.

“So I might see your work here soon enough, eh?” Renjun assumes the kind man is smiling under his mask because his eyes seem to be making the same shape as Chenle’s do when he smiles. So Renjun grins back.

“I mean… if I work really hard, I might get to shoot my shot in the next Midnight Arthouse Annuale.” Renjun fantasizes.

“Or maybe you’d get lucky like this young artist,” he points his chin towards the artwork.

Renjun smiles, “I would credit her luck, too if I hadn’t seen her work. But her talent is… it kinda speaks for itself.”

“Oh, no, you should definitely credit her luck. Talent isn’t enough. The stars have to align. Luck, talent, the right place, the right time. It all has to come together.” he says nodding. 

Renjun considers his words. They seem to be coming from the wisdom of experience. 

What if Renjun hadn’t received the phone call about his grandma back then? Well, then he probably would’ve made something lackluster and gotten rejected. Working with Kim Doyoung has taught him as much. It didn’t matter who had put a word in for him. At the end of the day, his work had to be outclass.

What if he had received the phone call and then still had enough time to submit something for the Annuale? Then he still probably wouldn’t have because… well, because of you.

What if he had gone ahead, regardless of you or his grandma and just made something and submitted it? Then he still would’ve been rejected. Because the truth of the matter is, he just didn’t have the caliber that artists associated with Midnight Arthouse did.

In that sense, Renjun supposes everything was in fact happening at the right place and right time now. Doyoung was mentoring him and he was getting better by the day. The stars were aligning for him. He knew it in his heart.

“Then I would wish that it all comes together for me, too.” Renjun says.

“When it does, young man, I’ll be the first one to bid on your work.” he says and Renjun doesn’t even have the time to react when he feels a presence breeze in his direction and invade his personal space.

Renjun doesn’t even have to look up to know who it is. He can tell by the way this body fits perfectly into his side. He can tell by how naturally his own body responds and just puts his arm around it’s waist.

“Oh man, I missed all of it, didn’t I?” you lament, as you loop your arms around his neck from the side instead of a hello.

“Not all of it. The guys just left but your brother and his friends are still here. Besides, you had work.” Renjun turns his head and looks into your eyes to reassure you. “Y/N, this is Chenle’s father.”

“Oh, hello!” you say cheerfully and respectfully bow and give you greetings. “It is so nice to meet you. Chenle looks just like you!”

“Yes, I’ve been told I’m a more handsome version of him,” he smiles then turns to Renjun, “And who might this young lady be?”

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N. She goes to NCTU with us.” Renjun introduces you and you bow again. Oh, the thrill he got every time he got to introduce you as his girlfriend. Fuck, he’s pretty sure he’d never tire of it, even if it had just been a few months. The serotonin boost in his veins is strong and he gets the urge to squeeze you and hold you forever.

“Oh, that’s very nice. Come have a meal with us before we have to catch a plane back home, okay?” Chenle’s father invites the two of you. 

“Oh, I would love to!” you say in your chipper tone before your eyes start darting around “I’m going to have to excuse myself for a little bit, I just wanna say hi to my brother.” you say and you politely bow before you start moving away.

“Babe, hang on…” Renjun says, holding you back by your hand. He brings his fingers delicately to the bridge of your nose and softly pinches down the mask over it so it sits more snugly on you. “There, it’s much safer now.” Renjun nods and watches the affectionate smile your eyes give before you move away. You looked so pretty today, even if you were just coming back from a four-hour internship. You were easily the most beautiful girl in this room, though Renjun suspected that you’d be the most beautiful girl in any room you entered. 

Albeit sometimes, Renjun had to wonder if your talent or your beauty was greater. Because you had become the only junior in NCTU to land an internship at the SMK Trainee Drive. And now that you were a senior, you were somehow managing to keep your grades up alongside it. 

Renjun, on the other hand, would find himself struggling with balancing his apprenticeship with his school work. So he knew firsthand how your discipline was something else altogether. Recently though, he had experienced a rise in his grades because you had been taking him on so many study dates that your organizational skills and motivation had started to rub off on him.

Renjun walks around the studio and the party and feels like it’s been too long till you’re finally back by his side. 

“Love in the Time of Corona,” you read the title of an art piece displayed in front of you. “That was supposed to be our thing.”

Renjun laughs and has no qualms in looping his arms around your waist and finally pulling you into himself.

“I guess we should’ve realized then how un-novel the idea would become in a few months.” he comments. 

“Un-novel is not a word, Huang Renjun.” you narrow your eyes at him.

Renjun laughs. “It is now,” he says and lets out a long exhale, “I missed you today.” he complains, though he looks down at you with warmth.

“Well, you’ve got me now. And you have me for the entire weekend.” you reassure him, your palms on his chest.

“Mhmm.” Renjun smiles and he wants to lean in to kiss you. But Kim Doyoung specifically had people assigned to walk around and make sure that everyone had their masks on when inside. “Also, we already have a thing.” he reminds you and winks.

You laugh, and say “I guess we do,” then let out a happy sigh as your eyes avert from his for a moment, taking in your surroundings. “Our Couple Thing should give you some ideas on what you can make when your work is displayed here in the 2022 Annuale. I won’t be late to that, I promise. I’ll take a day off from everything else in my life.”

Renjun's heart grows warmer still, and he’s sure his eyes reflect what he feels, “How can you be so sure my work will be displayed in the 2022 Annuale?”

“I don’t know, Huang Renjun. I just have a feeling about you.” you say and Renjun can see you smile even if your lips are covered by a mask. Your eyes always smiled before your mouth did, anyway.

“Y/N L/N, I have a feeling about you, too.” he retorts. 

“And what feeling would that be?” you raise an eyebrow.

“It’s a secret.” he says, but now he sees your pout, even if he can’t see your mouth because your cheeks have puffed up over the mask. It makes him laugh.

“You’re no fun.” you protest.

“I’ll tell you once we get out of here.” Renjun offers.

“Well, I’m ready to leave.” you jut your chin up. Renjun grins and offers you his arm. You grab it with your entire body and the two of you start walking out together.

You had plans for the weekend, after all. And Renjun was determined to keep you all to himself for once, with no one else demanding your time. Not your internship, not your assignments, not any of your friends, and especially not Lee fucking Donghyuck. He was finally going to take you away where it could just be you and him and nobody else.

This moment felt way too surreal to Renjun.

The campfire had simmered down from a glorious roar to a comfortable burn, giving off just enough heat in the cool of an early winter evening. The sky was in it’s fading moments, where the pink of the light was slowly turning to violets and the violets were slowly merging into darks. 

Renjun remembered suggesting to you all that time ago that maybe you could go somewhere together. But now that he was here, he hadn’t imagined that the moment would feel as surreal as it did. 

Because now the two of you are sitting in front of your tent by the fire, entwined in one another. You’re sitting between his legs, arms around his neck, nuzzling your cheek inside his padded jacket while he supports your head on his arm and kisses you.

He’s holding you in his arms and kissing you and everything seems so perfect that for a moment, he has to pull away to watch your face and wonder if all of this was real. And though there is a gentle smile on your face, you’re not opening your eyes much. Because you know full well that Renjun’s lips would be back on yours in no time. So you play with his hair as they fall to his forehead and when he kisses you again, you press up into him so he would wrap his arms around you and hold you tighter. He does and he rubs his hands up and down your back and attempts to close his jacket around you.

“Are you cold?” he asks lovingly. You shake your head.

“No. I just want to crawl inside you.” you say, like it’s the most logical thing to be said.

“Creepy.” Renjun remarks but holds you closer still.

“You should be happy you haven’t seen my collection of your hair clippings.” you quip as you nip into the skin of his neck.

“Oh, sweet. That rivals all your used tissues I’ve kept in my shrine at home.”

“Aww, you shouldn’t have.” you coo at him and then lean up to kiss him some more and he laughs. But soon, he pushes the arm that you were using like a pillow up so your face would be closer to his and he could kiss you as deeply as he was truly craving. 

The two of you keep kissing like that till the sky is dark. It was an odd sort of trance, being so lost in one another that neither of you cared about what time it was or how long you had been sitting here, wrapped up in one another. Your phones were zipped away in your bags and you hadn’t checked them even once since you had parked your camping van and set up your tent. It was a slow, peaceful sort of bliss, just sitting by the fire and kissing and kissing with nothing else on your minds but being here like this with one another.

“Renjun?” you say, your voice sounding like it was returning from a deep thought.

“Hmm?” Renjun asks as he combs your hair away from your pretty face.

“You know, I learnt today that a cactus can live anywhere between 10 and 200 years.” you tell him, idly tracing the birthmark on the back of his hand.

Renjun leans in and presses long into your lips. “Yeah?” he replies and watches your face. It seemed hazily focused, like it was trying to catch onto a faraway thought.

“I also learnt that it can take up to 30 years for a cactus to bear flowers.” you say in an introspective, wistful tone.

Renjun looks away to hide his smile. Oh God, you were so cute. “Yeah?” he says again, but it’s getting more and more difficult to keep a serious face.

“Sometimes, a cactus doesn’t flower at all.” you say and then you turn your head to look at him like you’ve resurfaced from your thoughts and are now in the moment. Renjun’s grin grows wider. “Renjunnn…” you whine and so he has no choice but to tenderly hold your cheeks in his palms and stroke your hair.

“What?” he chuckles.

“You said you’d think you’re worthy of my forgiveness when the cactus bears flowers.” you whine again and Renjun has to plant a loving kiss to your forehead.

“Is that what I said?” he chuckles some more and then leans in to kiss the anxious realization away from your lips. 

“Renjun.” you pout and Renjun laughs and takes his beautiful, whiny, kindhearted girlfriend in his arms and hopes that his hold could chase away all the worries from her pretty, brilliant mind.

He kisses you because his heart can’t bear it any longer. How did he manage to hold a heart like yours in his hand?

Renjun feels an indescribable amount of happiness. Like he wasn’t sure that you were really here with him, in his arms, all for him to hold, with no worry or burden afflicting him. The happiness is so immense and so incredible and so heavy that for a moment, he feels it suffocating him. He wonders if he deserved this kind of happiness.

But right in the next moment, he stops himself. He knew how easy it was to relapse into those tempting, lonesome thoughts. But if there was anything that therapy was teaching him, it was that of course he deserved happiness. 

Though right now, holding you in his arms, this happiness was choking him. He felt like his heart was swelling and pressing against his lungs and his chest couldn’t bear it and he could no longer breathe. 

“Y/N…” he exhales, holding you back so he can look at your face and you could look up into his. He pauses to gather another breath. Then, he just says it. “I love you.”

And doing so does the trick. He feels his chest slowly getting lighter, because this is what it had been bursting with. Now, he’s told you. Now, it can be unburdened.

You look up at him and there is nothing but a sparkle in your eye, and tenderness in your smile. For a while, you say nothing, just looking upon his eyes like that. “Thank you.” you finally whisper back at him.

Renjun pauses for a moment. But then, he relaxes. This was okay. You didn’t have to say it back right away. Renjun was ready to give you as much time as you needed. So he presses his lips into your forehead once again till he feels you laughing against him. He pulls back in confusion and you grab at the lapel of his parka.

“Huang Renjun…” you say and he looks back at you with uncertainty, “... I love you, too.”

And Renjun can’t help it if he kisses you too hard. He can’t help it that he’s squeezing you too tight. He wouldn’t care if the night brightens back into morning and the morning fades back into night. He was going to hold you just like this for the rest of his life. 

So he lays you down and kisses you deeper, like he wanted to make up for all the time he had lost. All the time in his life when he hadn’t known you. All the time he had known you and didn’t let himself have you. He was going to make up for it all. And as he zips the tent up and shields you from the rest of the world, he wonders if he could spend all of his days just like this. Holding you and loving you and knowing that you loved him back; and if he could, today was a damn good day to start.

The fire slows to a simmer till all that’s left are embers that keep being carried away by the breeze. But the two of you remain inside, in your own world, happy that you had found one another, happy that you could finally have one another. Happy that you could hold one another and say that you loved each other and have nothing in the world hold you back, not now, not ever.

You were Y/N and Renjun, Renjun and Y/N, two names that were forever intertwined because that’s how people would call you now. You were the couple that belonged so perfectly with one another that people would wonder if you’d been together for years. And any time someone with a burning curiosity would come up to you and ask,

“So, where did you guys meet?” you would just look at one another, smile and say, “Well, we met in online class.”

~THE END

Copyright © 2021 NeoCultureTravesty. All rights reserved.

[the-piece-of-spadille]

Hey!!!! Can I ask ummmm nsfw scenario of Trafalgar Law x shy! fem! S/O? Okay, Law use this prompt 37, 43, 50. So, I have read that I can use 3 prompts. But I have choose one character so... I hope that's alright for you.... And that's it. Take your time.😊

Hey Anon! Thank you for requesting. Sorry this took so long to make. I’m a little rusty in the NSFW department. I hope you enjoy it! I had a lot of fun writing it out!

Warning: NSFW 18+  

Word Count: 1.7k

Hell must have frozen over to allow both Trafalgar D. Water Law and Eustass Kid to lay anchor at the same island and run into each other at the bar. Both crews are watching from afar on opposite sides, placing bets on what’s going to happen next.

It’s not like Law to get jealous. He’s confident in himself and in the relationship the two of you formed in stone. He knows whole heartily he’d never have to worry about cheating, but that bastard Eustass Kid just rubs him the wrong way. If it weren’t for him already having made a promise to you earlier in the week for a weekend without violence, he’d probably being fighting right about now.

You were only meant to go to the bar and get a few drinks for your table when you grabbed the attention of the scarred pirate captain. Eustass found out easily that you’re rather shy and took advantage of that. He managed to talk his way into you into taking a seat at the bar next to him while waiting for the bartender to come over.

Truth be told Eustass just wants to cause trouble per usual and see just how far he can go until he gets under the Surgeon of Death’s skin. And if he’s lucky maybe a fight would break out. He made causal bar talk and you only replied to be polite and to keep things civil. You knew of his reputation and all you wanted was a night of peace. Eustass however, decides to kick things up a notch. He throws out his charm and starts to get a little flirty to see if you’ll take the bait.

Eustass doesn’t know that you’re dating Law, in fact nobody does for your safety. He just sees a pretty girl that happens to be part of Law’s crew, but he had his suspicions. He can feel the Surgeons eyes watching him ever since you walked up to the bar. And to your luck just as the bartender walks over, he says he has to go retrieve more sake from the cellar.

You let out an audible sigh at having to wait longer while the rival captain smirks. He moves closer and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, but you quickly shrug it off. You turn and look up at him to tell him to knock it off when you noticed his attention elsewhere again. 

Every time he made some type of advancement or flirty comment, he wasn’t looking for your reaction, but your captains. He was using you to get to your captain, but for what? Deciding to play into this little game, you stay seated to figure out his intent with your lover no matter how anxious your starting to feel.  

Law thus far has remained calm, only giving Kid an unreadable expression. It wasn’t until Eustass offered you his drink to ease your discomfort that Law visually saw how nervous you were getting. You were used to fighting other captains and the like, not sitting next to one at a bar, and certainly not being flirted with by one. Eustass nudges his drink over to you in hopes to calm you. You’re not his target for the night, he doesn’t wish to make you uncomfortable.

Law isn’t sure what it is about that drink that makes his blood boil. He knows it’s not poisoned; he’s been watching Kid like a hawk and just saw him drink from it. Maybe it was the fact it was Kid’s own drink that he’s drank from at the bar. It was childish of him to get jealous over your lips touching the same glass as Kid’s. It’s not remotely the same as kissing, yet Law felt the need to cut him in half with the full intent to leave him that way.

At first you tried to decline the drink nicely, but he insisted, saying that it looked like you could use one to ease your nerves. He gave you a smile, though in his true devilish fashion. When you picked up the glass just as expected, Eustass’s attention again went straight to the man standing in the back corner. You figured if you played your cards right, you’d get closer to finding out what he wanted with Law and so you throw your head back, downing the drink. Eustass then has the audacity to smirk over at Law.

Trafalgar having enough of Eustass’s childish games uses “Room” to create a spherical territory. It quickly enveloped the entirety of the bar, grabbing the attention of all the pirates and other guests. In an instant your body is teleported by his side and an empty shot glass in your place next to Eustass. Wasting no time Law grabs your hand and quickly walks out the bar leaving behind an amused Kid.

“That was dangerous (Y/n)-ya,” continuing to pull you away from the bar and towards the safety of your home for the night. “I was just trying to keep things civil- Hey! Slow down a little please.” He didn’t. He kept the same pace until he reached the door only stopping to unlock it.

“I only wanted to know what his deal was with you” you state innocently. “He wasn’t interested in me.” He opened the door and stepped aside to let you in first. Inside he closes the door a little harsher than he wanted to, he’s not angry at you, just angry that Kid was getting under his skin. That he was flirting with you right in front of him. He grumbles as he reminded himself about the stupid drink you shared and grew jealous again.

Law pulls you against him and urgently covers your lips with his own. Hands cupping your face while he feverishly kisses you with passion, cleaning your lips of any trace of that damn liquor. Grabbing his coat to keep yourself balanced from the sudden kiss, you almost yelp when he bites down on your bottom lip.

He picks you up, giving your ass a generous squeeze before crossing the small home, laying you down onto the soft bed. You take this opportunity to catch your breath from the unexpected kiss while Law stands at the foot of the bed and starts to shrug off his layers of clothes. His golden orbs sinfully watching you, running all over your form as he undresses.

He only manages to take off everything on his upper half, before leaning over your much smaller frame, caging you underneath him, his weight anchoring you in place. Your face flushed from how he looks at you. Law gently licks at your sore lip from where he bit you, giving you a much gentler kiss to say sorry as you run your hands through his dark raven colored hair.

Ever so slowly his hands trail down your curves and starts undressing you while his tongue dances sinfully with yours. Tossing away your clothing, you lay only in your bra and panties while he grinds his clothed cock against your dampening core. Pulling away to let out a soft moan. “You like that Kitten?”

Continuing his motions with his hips, Law starts moving his lips away from yours, leaving a wet trail of kisses down the jaw and neck. Making sure to leave a few marks on your neck that will surely darken. “Law please” you cried.

“Please what, love?”

Your face flushes at the thought of asking. It doesn’t matter that you’ve done it before, asking to feel his lips where you’re most sensitive still leaves you bashful. Law knows what you want but he loves teasing you into saying it. His sweet little Kitten always so shy to ask him to give you oral.

“Please Law I need you.”

“Where do you need me baby” he says in that deep seductive voice, looking into your eyes. You can see that start of a smirk forming across his face. His hand trailing down, “right here?” The pad of his finger lazily stroking over your clothed damping core.

“Yes! Right there” you exclaim as your hips buck. With one last lingering kiss to your lips, he starts his slow decent towards your aching core, removing that last barrier of clothing that’s keeping him from you.

Law rubs his finger across your slit, placing small kisses on the inside of your thighs leading closer and closer to your core. You need more friction and try to move your hips, but Law holds you in place. “Patience baby. All good things come to those who wait.” He toys with you a little longer before making sure his finger is coated in your slick, pushing it inside to earn a light moan from you.

He gives you a few more thrusts with his finger before giving you a gentle lick. “Fuck” you moan, tossing your head back into the pillows. You can practically feel the smile on his face. Adding another finger to the mix to help get you ready for what’s to come.  “So pretty and wet, just for me.”

Law’s tongue licking at your folds while his thumb rubs mercilessly at your clit with just the right amount of pressure. “Let me hear you Kitten.” You do as he says. Needing something to hold onto, you reach down and tug at his hair, making him groan into you. Hips squirming at the jolts of pleasure, “Show how loud I can make you. Let that red headed bastard know who you belong to.”

You can feel the feel yourself getting closer to the edge. Finding it hard to stay still, your hips squirming, being so close to becoming undone. Law pushes his fingers back inside and attacks your bundle of nerves once again with his mouth. Turning you into a moaning mess. “Law! I’m close!” He can feel you tightening around his fingers.

“That’s is baby. Cum for me.”

Law’s other hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers together just as you find euphoria. Squeezing your eyes shut at the pleasure finally going over the edge. Moaning his name so loud, you hope no one else is around to save you from embarrassment.  

Law giving your sensitive cunt one last kiss before making his way up to you, giving you a searing hot kiss so you can taste yourself on his lips. Pulling away so you can catch your breath. You can feel the prominent bulge in his pants, rubbing against you. Telling you the night has only begun. Law places a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Good girl.”

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Never felt the rain

Summary:  Could you write something with Bill having a young daughter and when she asks him to go playing outside in the rain while he was working, he brushed her off, so she went out on own her own and got lost, so Bill thinks she went missing like Georgie?

A/N: here you go anon, I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think, it would mean a lot! Also, thank you for requesting this, it had me writing again after a long time and I really missed it, so thank you

Bill has a habit of writing as soon as rain starts drizzling from the sky. He doesn’t usually maintain a schedule, especially not after going back to Derry for a second time an gaining six friends who flitted straight back into his life and who each deserved as much of his time as the others, but when it rains, he forces himself behind the computer.

He draws the curtains shut, puts on a pair of noise cancelling headphones, and hopes that the downpour stops soon. According to his therapist, it’s because the weather reminds him of the day Georgie died and he turns to writing as a distraction, and while she might not be wrong, Bill prefers not to think about the specifics. All he knows is that as soon as dark clouds gather, he retreats to his study.

Audra knows this, and has, to Bills great shame, been a victim to his snappish behavior when he gets disturbed, so she leaves him be, and takes their daughter, Lily, on a mother daughter retreat. It’s their own routine that work well for the both of them, and so far, there haven’t been any problems with it.

Today, the bad weather struck out of nowhere, the rain spatters drumming their own beat on the windows and the foundation of the house, and Bill and remembers how bleak Georgie’s last day on earth had been. He retreats to his study in quiet without informing his daughter or wife about his plans, and slips into an imaginary world, where there’s no rain or bad memories.

He gets lost in it, thankfully. The rhythmic tapping of his keyboard and his own hushed voice lull him into a state so fully focused it allows him to forgo his environment. That includes ignoring the rain, but also the wooden door opening behind him as a small child sneaks in, big blue eyes full of a playful innocence.

He doesn’t hear Lily calling out to him, and is only notified of her arrival when her hand tugs on the sleeve of his shirt. It startles him, a cursed ‘Jesus’, slipping from his mouth before he clamps his teeth over his lips to stop more from tumbling out.

‘Daddy’, Bill reads of his daughters face, before he finally clads off the headset and hears her voice filter through.

She’s Georgie’s age now, and she resembles him a lot. For one, she looks up to her dad with as much wonder as her uncle did, a daddy’s girl through and through. She has the Knick for adventure too, though Bill is not sure that’s always a good thing.

‘What is it honey?’ He asks her with a soft voice. He suppresses the twinge of annoyance, now he’s broken out of his concentration, it’s hard not to notice the outside, and it’ll be difficult to reenter his writing groove.  

‘Can we play outside?’ She suggest, lips contorted in a devious little smile that proves that Audra must have said no to her question, and she’s now trying her hand at the person she has wrapped around her finger.

Bill’s gut reaction is to agree. How could he not, when he made the promise to himself to always be the best dad he could be, ever since finding out Audra was pregnant. He swore to himself that he’d never neglect his child, never put her on the backburner for anyone or anything, and that he’d enjoy, relish in every memory he’d be allowed to make with her.

But, he can’t. Not in this situation. Not when Pennywise only came back a mere four months ago, and he was forced into painful memories and past mistakes. Not when he’s relatively convinced that IT’s gone for real, but not 100% assured.

He smiles painfully, and gently pulls his daughter in his lap. It’s not so much that he’s trying to spoil his daughter, it’s just that he loves spending time with her as much as she adores spending time with him. His heart twinges painfully at the notion of disappointing her.

‘Not right now Lil, Daddy’s working.’ He presses a kiss on the top of her head, and squeezes her a bit tighter when a particularly hard downpour causes his heart to clench painfully. If only he had given Georgie a hug like this before letting him out that day.

It’s far too late for that regret now, but he won’t allow the same fate to be bestowed upon his daughter.

‘Please?’ Lily pouts, blinking her eyes in a way that is entirely disarming. She’s so good at convincing, she would make an excellent actress one day. ‘It’ll be so much fun.’ She leans in closer on Bill’s lap, bumping her forehead against Bill’s chest. ‘I promise I won’t step in any puddles.’

It’s a complete lie of course, and Bill can’t help but grin at the idea of Lilly thinking she’s being sneaky about the whole thing, but still, he can’t concur.

‘Later, alright buttercup? And I promise that I’ll spend an entire day with you tomorrow?’

Lily doesn’t smile, so Bill does the one thing he’s become a pro at since becoming a dad; ticking her until she can’t help but laugh.

She shrieks instantly, squirming away from Bill’s fingers as the dance over her sides until she’s nearly toppled of his lip in her haste to escape him, and then giggles long after Bill’s stopped.

Once that too dies out, she bites her lip, seemingly scanning her chances of getting him to agree on going out anyway, but then she concedes.

‘Alright then’, she says a little bit disheartened, but agreeing none the less. She slitters back out as quiet as she came in, but not before a kiss over her shoulder and waving at Bill.

‘See you later dad.’

Bill smiles and waves back, crushed by love and grief battling in his heart for the upper hand, then he puts on his headphone, covers his ears, and he neglects to hear the front door open and lock with a deafening pull.  

----

In the end, it’s the guilt that makes him give up only a half hour after Lilly came in to ask for his time. He peruse the last line he’d written, he hadn’t managed to find his flow after the interruption anyway, and closes the document of his new book for the day.

He still can’t find the strength to go outside in this weather but perhaps he can convince Lily that watching a movie and snacking on popcorn is a much better activity then getting wet and cold.

He shuffles into the kitchen, where Audra’s is already at, and wonders if they have enough corn to put together homemade popcorn.

‘Do you think Lily will want to watch a movie? I’m thinking Disney might be the way to go?’ He inquires Audra absentmindedly while scouring the pantries for the ingredients he needs. He knows, just from the sounds of Audra’s voice that something’s the matter.

‘She’s not with you?’ Audra chokes out, voice pinched in panic.

Bill’s heart stops for a full second, before rabbiting so hard his chest feels like exploding.

‘What?’ He asks, but the words feel foreign, like he’s not the one saying it.  Audra’s responding look is enough to give him all the answers he needs.

----

The rain remains unforgiven towards Bill, the background of the yet another great tragedy in his life. Cliché as it is, it does help cover up his tears, about the only positive thing in his situation right now. Audra is next to him, on the same level of utter panic as Bill’s, but he hopes for her sake that he appears more composed then he actually is.

He viciously wishes for the losers to be with him now, but calling them would take up to much time and they live too far away to be of any aid anyway.  

His neighbors are aiding in the search, but they’re not enough. He doesn’t trust them like he trust his friends, he doesn’t want the life of his daughter depending on strangers.

They keep telling him that she’s fine, that she’s most likely having the time of her life without realizing how her parents are in shambles, but Bill can’t believe that. Lily’s been out for at least thirty minutes, that’s the time they noticed she had disappeared, and even Bill is shivering his socks off. He can’t afford to think about how cold Lily must be.

He separates from the group of searches after the weird glances he receives unsettled peeks when he ducks on his knees and calls out for his daughter in a sewer. Audra, who knows in part what happened to Georgie, lets out a sob.

Bill feels bad for leaving his wife all by herself, but he wants to cover as much ground as possible. He can’t wait at their front porch praying for Lily’s safe return, he knows from experience how feeble that is.

The options of where Lily could be are limited. Her friends live too far away for her to have walked to them, and there was only one place kids of her age liked to hang out. Still, when the park turns up nothing, he scours the area surrounding it, yelling out Lily’s name until his voice skips and a hoarse tone underline his words.

‘P-p-please.’ He screams with his head thrown back towards the sky, his stutter going unnoticed. ‘H-haven’t you t-t-taken enough from m-m-me?’ He’s unsure who he’s calling out too.

Bill’s attention is pulled towards a curtain that wobbles open, and old lady peeking from behind it, judging him with curious eyes. The first one to gossip apparently, but the last to help. Just as with Georgie. Bile threatened to spill as Bill walks on.

With his energy running low, as does his hope, Bill concedes to try and walk in the other direction of his home, to see if anyone else has had more luck than him. Then, seemingly using up all of Bill’s luck for the rest of his life, a wobbled; ‘Daddy’, cries out.

He’s never backed up so quick, and when he lays eyes on Lily, he’s never run that fast towards her either. It’s the pure and utter fear you experience as a kid, when you get lost in a comic in the store and you swivel back around to your mom, but she’s gone somewhere and you can’t find her.

That’s the feeling that linger when you lose someone close to you. And when she pops back up, that’s the utter relief Bill gets to taste now.

He’s back on his knees before he can comprehend it, and his hand curls around Lily’s back and head, cradling her so close this chest it’s nearly suffocating. Bill weeps, caressing his daughters hair as he checks her over.

‘Oh honey’, he chokes, swelling multiple times to force back the lump of tears.

Lily’s crying too, though it seems more out of reluctant than anything else.

‘I’m sorry dad. I just wanted to go out and play. But I fell and I think my bike is broken. I’m really sorry.’

Bill sorrow laughs. He can’t stop the ridiculous laughter that’s so absurd.

‘Lily, I couldn’t care less about a bike’, Bill explains, and he means it every bit. He pulls her back in a tight hug, allowing himself ten more seconds before he has to let go of her.

‘Please don’t ever do that again,’ he whispers, leaving a quick kiss on her head. He holds her as close as he wish he could have done to Georgie, if he had been found alive too. Maybe later, tomorrow or the day after, he’d have a more firm conversation about how sneaking out is not okay, but today, the relief wins over every other emotion or lecture.

‘Is mom mad?’ Lily asks, her own arms clenched around Bill’s shirt so tight it’s clear that she also had a large fright.

Shit, Audra. In an instant, Bill picks up his daughter, arm holding her up by the knees. She’s old enough to walk, but Bill has longer legs and walks faster.

‘No’, he assures her, despite a conformation of Audra. He’s sure his feeling are rekindled in his wife too. ‘But we have to let her know you’re okay. She’s worried too.’

‘Okay’, Lily agrees easy, her head resting on Bill’s shoulders. The rain isn’t that cold anymore, now that he has his child back in the safety of his arms.

----

That evening, Bill, Audra and Lily are cuddles together on their couch, watching Aladdin. Lily has long slipped to the land of dreams, but Bill and Audra want to keep her close for a little while longer. Maybe they’ll all spend the night here anyway, regardless of future back pains, but that’s a discussion for later.

Bill swipes one of Lily’s curls from her forehead gently, smiling when she snores deeper, then settles again.

‘Love you buttercup.’ Bill says, in his mind, he thinks, ‘I’ll never let anything happen to you.’

[dokifluffs]

Your Ex Wanting You Back | Ushijima, Bokuto, Kuroo

Pairing: Ushijima X Reader (gender neutral), Bokuto X Reader (gender neutral), Kuroo X Reader (gender neutral) 

Genre: angsty, love

Request: “can i request a hc to your ex wanting you back while you’re with them..? for bokuto, kuroo, ushijima? tysm i love your writing” -anon

Author’s Note: omg I loved writing this sm and I added an angsty, bad relationship past with Y/N and the ex teheh. Thanks for requesting, anon! Hope you all enjoy!! 

Warnings: implementations of manipulation of money (Ushijima), Black mailing (Bokuto), and verbal abuse (Kuroo) ((Also, their names is not THEM doing that to y/n, it’s what their y/n experienced with their ex)) 

Ushijima: 

Arriving at the gym a bit early, you stood near the doors where the teams would be entering so you could wish Ushijima the best of luck

Though he didn’t really need it with his skill and raw strength but it was the thought that counts

The audience slowly began to take their seats, chatter filling up the spacious gym as the teams entered

You suddenly felt hands crawl up your sides, making a smile spread across your features

“Ush- you,” the smile faded when you turned around to find your ex instead of the loving boyfriend you were with

“Since you’re here, why don’t we catch up, hm?” He asked with his hands still on you, his fingers squeezing your side

This made you feel very uncomfortable since it brought up bitter memories you had with this guy

His lies came out as easy as breathing to him and it made you sick

The countless number of hours you wasted being with him, thinking he actually cared about you when all he cared about was using you for his own benefits

The cigarettes he was able to buy with the money he “borrowed”

All your emotions you thought you left behind you suddenly churned inside of you, making you feel sick seeing his face so close to your face once again

His Smokey breath right in your face

“Get off of me,” you demanded as you tried to pry his hands off of you but he was strong

It made you remember the grasp he had on you and how sour things ended between you two but it was for the best of course

“Don’t be like that, bab-“

“They said to stop.”

A strong latch was held onto his wrist forcing him to release you

“Hey, who do you-“ the words stopped from his lips as he turned around to look up, seeing the Ushijima

He looked down to him with his stoic eyes as well as his team looking from behind their captain with their piercing and intimidating eyes

Y/n protection squad has arrived

He knew exactly who this man before you was

Those nights he held you close in his arms to soothe you of your sadness and the pain he inflicted on you

Ushijima usually felt neutral to everyone but he was disgusted by him

“Don’t come near them again,” his voice low as his rumbled in his throat

With that said, the guy scrambled off and his team continued into the gym to follow their warm ups while Ushijima stayed behind

“Are you okay?” He asked placing a hand to your shoulder

“Yeah, thanks,” you gave him a relieved smile as you took his hand from your shoulder into yours

“Good luck today. Win another one,” you said as you pressed a kiss to the back of his hand

His lips pulled into a thin smile as he nodded before joining the rest of the team with their stretches

Bokuto (ft. Akaashi): 

The sun was hot as it beamed down on you and a few of the other managers from other teams as you all took your turns to fill up the water bottles for the teams

The gym felt hotter on the inside since there was poor air circulation and it didn’t mix well with five high school volleyball teams playing for almost the entire day

But it was all for the better to help their skills as players and bonds as a team

You chatted with the other managers about the teams until it was finally your turn to fill up the water bottles for your team, Fukurodani

“You guys don’t have to wait for me,” you said as you waved off to them as they carried their water caddies, bringing them back to the sweltering gym

As you turned, back toward the faucet, you were met with a sudden chest that made you fall back, knocking some of your bottles to the ground

“Y/N, what a coincidence to see you here,” the silky voice of your ex made chills run up your spine as he squatted down to your level

“You looks so cute with that expression on your face,” his hand holding your jaw with his sinful eyes looking into your eyes, taking in the shaken look over your features

You shook out of his grasp, picking up the water bottles all around you so you could fill up your bottles and be on your way

You could hear your heart racing in your chest and the cold feel of fear spreading in your chest making goosebumps rise over your skin in the heat

“Do you want to model again for me?” He asked dangerously close to your ear

“Please go away,” you moved away, trying your best to fill up the bottles

“Oh come on, those pictures I took of you were beautiful,” his voice sensual in your ears, it brought up all the shameful memories

How were you so naive you didn’t realize how wrong things were before it got so bad

“What do you think you’re doing here,” the sound of Bokuto’s voice pulled you out of the dark as he grabbed the guy’s shoulder from behind, forcefully pushing him away from you

The guy was rendered useless seeing Bokuto with Akaashi behind him knowing he wouldn’t win if he got into a fight

“I strongly suggest you leave,” Akaashi spoke straightforwardly

“Tch, whatever” he spit as he carried on his way, away from the three of you

You let out a visibly relieving sigh as you looked up to the sky to blink away the tears you felt stinging at your eyes

“I’m here,” Bokuto’s voice was much softer with you along with his touch as he took you into his arms despite how sweaty he was

But you didn’t care

He was the one in your life, not that revolting excuse of a human

Akaashi and Bokuto helped you finish filling the bottles and carried them back to the team, cheering you up by telling you the weird dance the Karasuno team as they chanted about meat for some reason

Kuroo (ft. Kenma): 

The sky was a beautiful mix of golds and rich oranges as the sun was on its journey to set beyond the horizon, making way for the early night

You walked with Kenma and Kuroo as the three of you walked to the convenience store for some drinks after their practice

You listened intently in the good atmosphere around with your best friends and your love, Kuroo as he told you about how funny Lev was when he failed syncing with Kenma’s sets

This got Kenma to sigh, going on a little tangent as he continued to walk and play on his device

Your bright laughter lifted their energy a bit more and Kuroo loved your laugh

It made it felt like nothing could go wrong in the world

You waited outside the store as the two went in to get drinks and you watched the horizon, taking a picture of the golden sunset, your eyes wide at the beauty of nature

“I see you’re still taking those stupid pictures,” the sound of scoffing was right in your ear

You flinched automatically away from the voice as you turned to see him again

And it suddenly felt like a wound was opening in your chest. A wound you thought closed when Kuroo helped mend it

How was he able to rip it open it easily

“Aw, don’t give me that look, Y/N. I’ve missed you,” he said as he slowly took steps toward you as you instinctively stepped backs the words you wanted to say to him stuck in your throat

But what did you want to say when he was always able to turn the words back to you, the venom rolling off his tongue

“Haven’t you missed me too?” He asked, his face dangerously close to yours as he backed you against a telephone pole on the side of the street, one arm over your head while his other tucked in his pocket

“I know you have,” he purred, smirking devilishly as the hand that was resting above your head cane down to stroke your face

“Don’t touch them,” Kuroo spoke with a sweet sound in his voice, a smile on his face but you could feel his anger

You had told him and called him countless times when you woke up at night cause of he words your ex had seared into your mind about you

All were false but words had a way with sticking

The hold he had on the guy’s hand was almost bone crushing as he controlled his temper around the guy who had hurt you so badly

He never wanted to see him and he never wanted to see you so sad

He wanted to see the smile you were able to show him after a long time

“Oh? And what’re you gonna do?” He mistakingly asked

“I’ll show you something to be scared of, you piece of trash,” Kuroo cursed as he squeezed the guy’s hand until his knuckles were white, his entire demeanor different as he sent a death glare at the guy

“Alright, alright,” he finally piped up, trying to hide the clear pain Kuroo was putting on his hand

Kuroo let him go and watched him go off, sending him a glare when he looked back, standing in front of you so he couldn’t even see you

“Let’s go home,” his aura lighter around you as he handed you a drink nonchalantly, holding you close with his arm wrapped around your shoulders protectively

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else! 

Tags (send me an ask if you wanna be added): @yams046​ @mazey-chan​ @sunboikyo00​

[cellsshapedlikestars]

Hello!

I love all your work so much and I saw that you were going to be taking a break from your Bachelor universe so I wanted to throw some prompts your way to maybe help get some other creative juices flowing *waggles eyebrows*

1) switched at birth AU

2) Everyone already knows their dating AU

3) Law and Order (SVU AU)

4) you’ve got mail AU

Thank you anon, I'm glad you like my writing!

Now that I've finished my Bach fic, I've been at a bit of a loss what I want to do next. Maybe it's because I'm all out of new ideas, maybe it's because work has been absolutely hectic, but my creative brain is completely empty. So I figured, why not try to do one of these prompts?

Here's the thing: I have never seen SVU or You've Got Mail. And I'm pretty sure Switched at Birth is also a TV show I have never seen? When I saw "everyone already knows" my immediate thought was "oh! like in Friends!" but then I remembered I have absolutely read that fic somewhere?? Like someone already wrote that for Jonsa. (I tried to find it again but have had no luck.)

So I chose switched at birth as a concept - I'm not sure if you meant the TV show or not, but I just wrote whatever popped into my brain.

A warning: this turned out a bit more angsty than I intended, and isn't necessarily Jonsa? It is if you squint. A few other notes, Alayne is a completely separate person from Sansa, Lysa is not related to Catelyn, and Baelish never knew Catelyn either. Sorry if it's confusing and/or not at all what you were looking for!

.

.

Sansa feels as if the world has dropped out from beneath her.

They all sit in the drawing room of what she can only describe as a mansion (and she knows that next to her, Father is likely seething. This is the kind of money he aspires to, but will never be able to reach. He will never have a name. Father is a Baelish, he could never be a Stark.)

She stares at the family sitting opposite and her heart sticks in her throat at the sight of them – the mother, the three sons, they all have the same copper hair that she does and she swallows against the rising tears.

This is what she could have had, she thinks as she averts her eyes, but she only manages to catch sight of the family portrait above the mantel. A father, a mother, siblings. She could have had all of this, if not for the slip-up of an overworked, underpaid nurse sixteen years ago. She could have been Alayne Stark. Instead she is Sansa Baelish.

Switched at birth.

Alayne sits with her family (that should be Sansa's family), and she doesn't look as out of place as she should. Her dark hair matches Mr. Stark's – matches the other daughter, Arya. Alayne fits right in.

Sansa sits with Father (no, not her father; the man who raised her) on the opposite couch and wonders if her Mother (no, not her mother) had known, somehow. Is that why Mother had always been so cruel to her? Why she always seemed to hate Sansa for reasons she could never figure out? Perhaps Mother had known, somehow, that Sansa wasn't hers. Sansa remembers reading fairy stories of Changelings – how the mother would know, insist the child wasn't hers, how no one ever believed her. Is that why Mother threw herself off the roof all those years ago?

“Well this is fucking awkward,” the girl, Arya, mutters, and it breaks the silence as Mr. Stark sighs and presses a hand over his face and Mrs. Stark begins to scold her for her language and impropriety. Sansa watches Alayne laugh, and she feels more than ever like an intruder. She may share the Stark blood, but it seems as if Alayne and Arya are more alike than not. And by the way the brothers are trying to hide their own laughter, it seems Alayne fits in with all of them.

Perhaps it wasn't a mistake to switch them, Sansa thinks bitterly. Perhaps the Starks are better for having Alayne.

….

She is forced to get to know the Stark family, though she does not think she wants to. She doesn't want to look at their life and wish it could have been hers – wish that Ned Stark with his kind eyes and calm voice could have been her father. Wish that Catelyn Stark with her smiles and her freshly baked cookies could have been her mother. Wish that she could have been surrounded by siblings and dogs and even two strange psuedo-adopted-but-not-really brothers that she meets later on named Jon and Theon. The Stark household is chaotic and confusing and Sansa tells herself she would have hated growing up here.

….

She isn't surprised to find that she's not sad Father isn't her real father. In fact, there's a sort of joy inside her that when she turns eighteen, she can be free of him. He is still her legal guardian, the courts have decided, but she has less than two years before she is free and they aren't actually related and so she doesn't have to feel guilty about her dreams of leaving him.

It grows inside her as the weeks and months go by – a hatred she has never truly let herself feel before. She hates him, despises him. She always has.

Catelyn Stark is insistent on getting to know her because Sansa is her daughter, but Sansa can tell that Father has no real desire to get to know his own real daughter. He does not care about Alayne – no, what he cares about is ingratiating himself into the Stark family. She wonders if the Starks can see it like she can. She hopes not – she doesn't want them to think she's only coming to these weekly meetings for their money and their name.

In all honestly, she's not actually sure why she keeps coming to these meetings. All they do is remind her that the Starks will never truly be her family. All they do is highlight how much Father cares about social climbing. These meetings are painful and every week when she finally gets home and takes a shower and gets into her pajamas and climbs into bed, she sobs into her pillow for what could have been.

…

“You know the party's inside, right?”

Sansa startles out of her reverie and whirls around, heart pounding, to find Jon Snow standing behind her, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket.

It's Christmas and the snow is thick on the ground and she's shivering in the thin wrap that she came outside with, her coat in a closet where Mrs. Stark had taken it hours earlier.

“Are you allowed to be smoking?” she asks instead of answering and he laughs, pulling one out of the pack and placing it between his lips.

“I'm eighteen,” he shrugs, speaking around the cigarette dangling out of his mouth. His hands come up and he lights it, with one cupped around the end against the cold winter wind.

“I can't imagine Mrs. Stark approves of smoking,” she sniffs, then shakes her head no when Jon holds the pack out to her in offering. She watches his mouth twitch into a smile for a moment, like he knew she wouldn't take one, before putting the pack back in his coat pocket.

“Seems you don't approve, either.”

“Well, I am her daughter.” She says it and means it to be a joke, but the words come out soft and it wavers at the end.

Jon watches her for a moment, then unzips his coat and shrugs it off and holds it out to her and she stares at it blankly, her mind not processing the gesture. He shakes the coat, like he's insisting she take it and she finally does, slipping it on and then closing her eyes at the immediate warmth of it.

“I get it,” Jon says after a while, when he's halfway down to the filter, clouds of smoke drifting up into the night sky. “I mean, not exactly, I'm not sure there's anyone who can understand... you know-” he gestures at her. “But I get what's it's like - to be a Stark, but not. They practically raised me, but I'm not... I'll never actually be one of them.”

“I used to read fairytales,” she admits, turning her face from him because it's easier to talk into the dark, snow-covered landscape than him. “About secret princesses, and the king and queen were always so happy to have their daughter back. In the stories, there was never another princess who already took her place. Who fit in better.”

Alayne is a perfect Stark, she thinks. Over the months, she's seen it – how Alayne plays football and hockey with her brothers and sisters, makes jokes that Sansa would never. She's nothing like Sansa, who always preferred reading poetry to playing outside, with perfect manners and perfect posture. Cold and reserved. She wishes she were more like Alayne – more like a Stark.

She hears Jon sigh and take one last drag of the cigarette before he puts it out in the snow. “You're a lot like Cat, you know,” he says finally, and she feels something twist painfully in her chest. “And Bran. I mean, I don't know you that well, I guess, but...”

She shakes her head because he's wrong. She's nothing like any of the Starks (though she's not a Baelish, either). Jon sighs again, louder this time, with more annoyance.

“You are,” he insists, and she finally turns to face him again and opens her mouth to argue, but he gets there first. “You'd see it if you let yourself. If you actually tried. Cat's... Cat is trying so hard. You should see how she gets before you come over. Everyone is freaking out about it but you won't even try to get to know them. And I might not get how you feel, but Alayne? Have you even tried to talk to her?”

That painful twist in her chest tightens, it swoops down into her belly and up into her throat. “I am-”

“Like I said, I can't imagine how it feels, you know? And I'm sure it's a lot, and you're allowed to feel how you feel, but the Starks are... they want you here, I promise. But if you don't want to be, if you don't want them in your life, maybe this should all stop, cause it's hurting them and I think it's hurting you. Maybe we shouldn't be trying to force it if it's not what you want.”

Her mind is blank, she can't think of a single argument, though she wants to argue. She wants to say that Alayne hasn't tried talking to her, either. She wants to insist that she is trying, but... but she's not. Not really. She's holding herself at a distance, she's already decided she doesn't belong.

“What if they don't like me?” The words slip out of her, unbidden, her voice barely a whisper. It wavers in the dark. (Her deepest fear – that if she lets them get close to her, they'll decide she isn't worth it, that they don't want her.)

She's not sure what response she was expecting, but it's not for Jon to smile – he does, gives her a little half smile and raises his shoulders in a shrug. “I don't know you that well yet, but so far I like you just fine. And I'm not even a Stark.”

“You seem like a Stark,” she tells him, and watches something flicker across his face and she doesn't know him well enough yet to tell what it is.

“I'm not actually related,” he says, though she already knows this. “Not by blood or anything.” For a moment he brings his hand up to rub at the back of his neck and he suddenly won't look at her and she wonders if she said something wrong. “We should go back inside,” he seems to change the subject and she hesitates, but then he holds out his hand. After a moment, she takes it, and follows him back inside, out of the freezing night air and into the warmth of the house. In the distance, she can hear voices and laughter, she can smell the cinnamon and pine in the air.

She could get lost here, if she let herself.

“There you are,” Mrs. Stark looks up as they enter the kitchen, and Jon lets go of her hand. Mrs. Stark narrows her eyes at Jon, then looks at the back door, like she guesses what he was doing out there and doesn't approve.

“I'm uh...” Jon starts, looking between Mrs. Stark and her, “I should get back to the party.” Before he goes, he turns back to her and she remembers she's still in his coat and she hurriedly takes it off, feeling heat high up on her cheeks as she does. “Try,” he says, voice too low for Mrs. Stark to hear. Then he takes his coat and leaves the kitchen – leaves her in the kitchen. Alone. With Mrs. Stark.

“Are you having fun?” Mrs. Stark's voice is light, but there's something underneath, a hesitance.

“I am,” she says back, wondering if she should make some excuse and leave. Wondering if Mrs. Stark doesn't want to be here talking to her.

(Try.)

“I wanted to thank you for inviting me,” she blurts out, and Mrs. Stark looks at her sharply. “I had some of the pumpkin pie, it was really good.”

It's such a stupid, nonsense thing to say, but Mrs. Stark looks pleased.

“It's a family recipe,” Mrs. Stark says, and then – a bit of hesitation - “I could teach it to you, if you'd like.”

Sansa's breath catches in her throat and it takes her a moment to say, “I like baking.”

“So do I. I could never get Alayne or Arya into it.” Mrs. Stark says it with a fond smile and Sansa feels something break open inside of her and she realizes, she knows, that she wants this. She wants to know this family, she wants to be a part of it. She doesn't want to take Alayne's place, she never could, but she...

“You could teach me,” she whispers. “Sometime. I'd like that.”

“So would I,” Mrs St- her mother, says with a smile that lights up the room.

[princess-of-inarizaki]

hello ! if ur requests are currently open, can i get headcanons / scenario of inarizakis manager having a celeb crush (like finn wolfhard, louis partridge ALSO if u can, can u please make the celeb crush louis patridge ? im kinda desperate for sum louis x reader scenarios lawl) and they let them simp for him cuz it's just a crush right ? right, what they don't know is that manager-chan has made some attempts for him (their celeb crush) to notice them and they have successfully made him notice them bc manager chan is such a charm, so what will be their reactions if they see manager chan holding hands with the celeb crush that they didn't worry ab ? thank u in advance if u do it ! but it's fine if ur requests aren't open,, i just didn't see any posts ab ur requests being closed hehe also sorry if i did this wrong 😭 this is my first time requesting sumthn 😭😭

Louis Patridge x Inarizaki manager

Oh my goshhh hi bb. I'm so glad I was your first :D (yes, initially, requests were closed, unfortunately) but this was literally such a good one, I couldn't resist writing it. (I'm in love with Louis Patridge too, bubs)

Also, just a tip (if you're gonna request on anon, make sure you follow me, or have my profile saved because tumblr doesn't give you a notification when I've answered you 🥺🥺)

🦋; Inarizaki manager (reader) x Louis Patridge (celeb crush) x Inarizaki vbc ,, triggers: none!!

“Guys. DID YOU WATCH ENOLA HOLMES?” your breathless face was red due to fact that you've ran a long way, obviously to tell them this.

Atsumu and Osamu nodded in unison, “Yea, that Millie Bobbi Brown chick acted prett' well”

Suna rolled his eyes. “Hated it. Only watched it for Superman, though.”

Kita shrugged, walked up to you, and shook his head as he smoothed your hair down (the stray curls obviously came undone as you were running). “I don't watch fictious movies, y/n-san. Was it good?”

Eyes sparkling, you nodded. “It was more than good. Besides, that actor, Louis Patridge? The guy who plays Lord Tewkesbury? I think I'm in love with him.” a dream-like look glazed over your eyes as you stared at your phone wallpaper wistfully.

Suddenly, the bell rang, jolting you back to reality. “Oh that's right, I need to go to class now.”, and with that, you left six very stunned boys in the gym.

“I wonder what'll be of her crush on that' actor?” asked Atsumu with a smirk. Don't be fooled though, behind the easygoing exterior, he was the most concerned of the lot (and the most jealous).

“Yer' overthinking it. They live oceans apart, and he plays movies on the big screen.” drawled Osamu.

“Yeah, I'm sure one of us still has more chance with her than him, she's actually met us, after all.” chirped Akagi, with a positive note. He was determined to win you over, and a celeb crush didn't deter him in any way.

Suna nodded, whilst Kita and Aran exchanged looks. “It's important to be supportive of her though. Albeit it being merely a schoolgirl crush, this could mean a lot to her.” said Kita, and his tone invited no further disagreement.

Back at home that evening, thoughts of the handsome brown haired boy could not leave your mind, and you logged onto Instagram, hoping to see if he had posted any updates.

He had, and it was a selfie of himself, with his tousled hair in all its "I-just-got-out-of-bed" glory. Damn, this man was sexy.

Smiling, you typed out a comment. “No offense, but if being adorable was a crime, you'd have fine written all over you ˃ᴗ˂ ”. Yes, it was dorky, and cheesy all in one. But why not? He might not ever read it anyways, as your comment got swept underneath the hundreds of others that came after it.

Sighing, you settled down to study, with thoughts about the comment and Louis pushed out of your mind.

Meanwhile, as Louis scrolled through his comments, a single one caught his eye. She used a pickup line (how adorable) which caused his cheeks to redden. Tentatively, he surveyed her profile, before feeling the familiar sensation of having a crush, wash over him.

She was gorgeous, and although he knew he shouldn't stalk random pretty girls over the internet, he couldn't help himself. Her pictures showed her to be the manager of a club of some sort, and she was almost always posing with a teammate. A male, teammate.

But damn, that smile. Even if he felt a small pit of unfounded jealousy at the guys, her smile was enough to distract him from anything.

His fingers hovered over the "follow back" button, before he finally gave in to temptation by following her, commenting, and putting his phone away quickly, suddenly feeling like a schoolboy all over again.

That morning, before school, you could barely believe the notifications waiting for you on your phone.

"louispatridge_ is following you"

"louispatridge_ commented: nah, if anyone's fine, it's gotta be you ˃ᴗ˂ "

Of course, after having seven mini panic attacks, and fawning over him, you set out to tell your boys at the volleyball club the good news.

And all you could think about on the way there was how Louis Patridge somehow noticed you. It was unbelievable, and somehow turned your insides to jelly.

As soon as you reached the gym, you flung yourself on Atsumu, engulfing him in a hug. “Guys I'm so happy” you managed to choke out.

Atsumu obviously enjoyed holding you, and he gently wrapped his arms around you to feel your heart beating quickly

“To what do we owe the pleasure of seeing you this early, y/n?” joked Aran.

Wordlessly, you dug into your pocket and pulled out your phone. “He thinks I'm fine. Fine means hot right? I mean, I used it meaning hot. Because he is hot. And he thinks the same of me, that's gotta be good? And the emoticon. He used the same one, he's so cu—”

But you were interrupted out of your whisper-babble by the boys' shocked faces. He noticed her? This fast? “I'm so happy for you, y/n” said Akagi cheerfully, but internally he was demotivated and sad at the prospect of you dating the young star.

Suna looked at you thoughtfully and ruffled your hair. “That's my girl. She's just as amazing and capable as those girls on the silver screen.” and although it pained him to say this, he just wanted to share your happiness.

The twins were withdrawn, and Kita congratulated you, whilst obviously feeling a bit regretful for dismissing it as a "schoolgirl crush".

In general, the boys were upset, but not surprised. If you had them all collectively whipped for you, why not a movie star?

After kissing Suna's cheek and waving the rest of the boys off, you skipped all the way to homeroom, excited to share the news with your friends.

Silence followed your absence as Aran shrugged. “So are we gonna acknowledge the elephant in the room?”

Atsumu pouted and glared at them all. “Why did he have to notice her? Was it her profile picture? I've always asked her to change it, she looks way too attractive.”

Osamu nodded and jutted his bottom lip. “I mean, we think she's the most beautiful girl in the world, and apparently other guys do too.”

“Oh God make it stop” whispered Suna. “I wish she'd just stay ours. I don't mind competing with you guys, I'm obviously better, but that actor dude? No chance.”

“We'll be supportive” reaffirmed Kita. “Above all, she's out friend and we do not own her. If this makes her happy, we won't ruin it.”. Akagi and Aran were quiet.

Ever since that day, you and Louis have been slowly but steadily growing closer and falling harder for each other.

He tried his luck by texting you, and although you were shy and tentative at first, getting to know the real him was refreshing.

And you really did like him. He was intelligent, adorable, and realistic. The two of you spent your time from dusk till' dawn talking, whether on call or on text.

And no one could deny the blossoming chemistry between yourself and Louis. He was a gentleman in every way, and his honeyed words stuck in your heart, finding its way to be replayed every time you felt down.

The boys slowly saw you drifting away. And when you weren't, it was always "Louis this—" or “Louis said—” and frankly their hearts couldn't take it anymore. It was time to give up, and love you as a friend instead.

But immersed in his attention you barely even noticed.

One day, Louis called you as you were heading home after practice. “y/n! Love, guess what?”

“aw bubs, just tell me. I hate guessing. Mostly because I suck at it.”

You could hear him chuckle on the other side of the line as he softly whispered “I'm coming to Japan on the ninth!”

“Wait, Louis. Today's the ninth.”

“I know. So are you gonna come to that bubble tea place you won't shut up about, or must I come get you?”

“You're joking”

“I'm not. I've wanted to surprise you, and I swear it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Which includes getting kicked by a horse on set, but nevermind about that, y/n, I want to see you, so get your arse here.”

“Coming, Lord Tewkesbury”

“I might have a kink.”

You blushed bright red at his words. “shut up oh my gosh, I'll be there.”

Louis ended the call with a small smile on his face. He knew how easily flustered you were with him and he loved it. It was just another thing on the list of all the reasons why Louis Patridge adored you to hell and back.

The whole way to the shop, your heart was pounding. So you'd finally get to meet the guy you've been dreaming about ever since you laid eyes on him in a movie.

Ever since those late night phone calls and early morning texts made your heart race and eyes sparkle with wonder.

You were finally meeting him.

The familiar sweet smell of the tea washed over you, and a familiar face waited for you at the entrance. His brown eyes looked gorgeous in the sun and his hair was tousled exactly the way you once saw in a selfie.

Wasting no time, you ran to him, pulling him to a hug. He laughed and caught you in his arms, holding you closer as your legs wrapped around his waist. No words were exchanged, just touches. There were too many words said already.

After pulling away, he gently stroked his thumb through your features. Tucking a strand aside, ruffling your hair. His hands ached to touch you, and now, finally, he could.

“You're such a dork.” was all you could whisper, afraid speaking loudly would break the spell.

“Your dork. All yours.”

“Louis!” your voice went an octave higher as the familiar warm sensation came over your cheeks, painting them a delicate pink.

“Oh God, I've always wanted to see you blush. How can you be so adorable?? Oh God.”

You whined in protest, but frankly, you were too happy to be around him to care much at all.

Tipping your chin to face him, Louis Patridge did the one thing he dreamt of doing, ever since he stalked through your Instagram profile one fateful morning.

He kissed you.

And wouldn't you know it? You kissed him back. It was warm, comforting, and everything you thought it'd be.

Meanwhile, the boys had finished cleaning up the gym, and started heading home.

“Hey guys, do you wanna go grab some bubble tea?” asked Aran. The prospect of food, or sweet things always cheered up the boys, and after a day of particularly grueling practice, it was no surprise they agreed at once.

You however, were comfortably nestled next to Louis as you swapped stories. Your hands never left each other, though. He kept stroking your palm, just to remind himself you were here, right next to him.

“So how's the volleyball club, Mrs. manager?”

“Mrs? Do I look like I'm married?” to which Louis responded with a shrug and wink.

Coincidentally, the Inarizaki boys entered the shop at that very moment, freezing in their tracks after seeing you in a booth with Louis.

“Psst. Guys. Loverboy's here.”

“Should we say hello?”

“I might cry if they kiss” whimpered Akagi.

“We need to say hello, it's the right thing to do.” said Kita sensibly, as he walked up to the two of you. “Hello y/n-san, Louis-san.” said Kita with a slight nod.

Happily, you rose from your seat and hugged the captain, thanking him for saying hi, as you introduced him to Louis.

Soon, the other boys came around and one by one, introduced themselves as well. Honestly speaking, they were jealous. How could they possibly get over someone like you? Someone as spectacular and beautiful as you? But when they saw you face shining with radiance as you smiled at Louis, and the way his hands never left yours, they understood.

And they wanted you to be happy. That was the most important thing, above all else for the both of them.

“I love you, manager-chan.”

[wakaoujisenhime]

Hello! Can I ask headcanons about being Inarizaki manager?

A/N: Hi there and of course you can! You’re my first Haikyuu anon so I hope this lived up to your expectations! I also gave your request a little backstory so you’ll hopefully enjoy this! (´･ᴗ･ ` )

Tags: Inarizaki x reader ✅  SFW ✅  friendship ✅  fluff ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

bearing the title of Inarizaki’s manager was no easy task, in fact, it was pretty tiring and demanded a lot from the person who owned it

or at least that’s what a lot of the failed applicants claimed

it was no secret that the volleyball team organized a test period that lasted a week for each participant and rumor has it that no one has ever made it past day three

there were a lot of people from your class mostly girls that had tried their luck and were overly-confident that they’d be chosen, but right after being failed they never mentioned the volleyball club again

you on the other hand were genuinely interested in the manager position and after contemplating whether or not to apply, with the amount of support you got from your family, friends and teachers you finally found the courage to write your name on the waiting list

unfortunately for your nerves the applicants before you failed way too quickly and before you knew it, your turn had come

a young friendly-looking man with dark and spikey hair came to your classroom on a Monday morning to tell you all the details concerning the club activity later this afternoon

you listened to him attentively, trying to memorize every single detail he told you, but he must’ve noticed how nervous you were because he suddenly stopped mid-sentence

“I’m sorry, you must surely think I’m super rude for not introducing myself first before I bombarded you with all those information. My name’s Akagi and I’m Inarizaki’s libero, it’s a pleasure to meet you!”

now that you were more relaxed the two of you wrapped your chat up and bid each other goodbye before you returned to your classroom and waited for your first class to start

.

all those rumors about the team giving off an entirely different aura than anyone else in school was truly no exaggeration

the moment you entered the gym the prevalent tension alone was enough to make you rethink your plans, but before you could do anything a gentle voice spoke out to you

“Are you this week’s manager candidate?”

when you turned around to see who had asked you that question, you saw a tall young man with a darker skin tone smile down at you

you affirmed his question, introducing yourself with the same nervous tone from before, and fortunately, he as well showed you an equal amount of sympathy as Akagi

“I know that it must be quite overwhelming, but you really shouldn’t worry too much about it. You know I’m actually not supposed to give you any tips, but...out of everyone who walked in here you look the most promising so...just be yourself!”

and with that, the two of you walked towards the rest of his teammates so that you could finally introduce yourself to them

truth be told you expected some kind of long interrogation process and nosy questions, but they paid you good to no attention and just introduced themselves briefly

when they went back to practice their moves the captain stayed behind and asked you some general questions such as how much experience you have with volleyball and if you’re busy during the weekends

after everyone went to go and change, you stayed behind to help some of the substitute players out with cleaning the gym floors and dirty balls when Kita joined you with the cleanup

he must’ve noticed your surprised face since after just a short while he spoke up

“Please pay me no mind, I do these things quite often, so this won’t be the last time my actions will surprise you.”

“Do you do these things out of...obligation?”

the other club members were quite surprised by your sudden question, but it made the light-grey haired young man crack a smile as he told you that he was simply used to doing things the right and proper way

his remark seemed of low importance at that time, but his reasoning still stuck with you, and unbeknownst to you it helped you out quite a bit

.

the second day passed similar to the first one, but with the only exception that you were allowed to help out with the warming-up exercises

while everyone stretched you were finally able to get a better look at the members and you even took some notes on which exercise they did, which position they played in most frequently, and how they behaved towards their teammates

you used the moment they benched you to go over everything you learned today and needless to say there were a few very noticeable personalities that might need more time to befriend than Aran or Akagi

the first two that stood out were the Miya twins

everyone in school knew them for their constant fights amongst each other, but seeing them play and fight up close was an entirely different experience

they randomly screamed at each other when some tactic didn’t work out how they’d imagined it, but all things considered, they made a great and powerful duo

it also didn’t take you long to tell them apart look wise as well as characterwise which facilitated your notes about them

Suna was the third person you’d have to look out for and pay very close attention to

judging from his playstyle he was quite the troublesome opponent

according to some of the players who sat close to you, he was able to manipulate the blockers to jump right where he wanted them to and some of that manipulation skills even stayed with him beyond the game and made out a big part of his personality

but on a more positive note, he also had a more fun side to him

he noticed surprisingly quick if someone wasn’t in a good mood and depending on how long he’d known them he was also able to cheer them up, but this special service heavily relied on his current mood

as for the rest of the members, they seemed friendly enough and as time passed you were confident that they’d accept you in their circle of friends

.

..

the rest of the week passed by in a flash and before you knew it the last day of your “manager exam” had arrived

you were nervous as well as quite afraid that you might not have provided them with the service they needed or wished for, but the confident grins on Aran’s and Akagi’s faces managed to reassure your beating heart

everyone waited for Kita to arrive and with each passing minute you felt like you would pass out

and after what felt like an eternity he finally entered the gym with a black duffle bag and headed straight toward you

he handed you the bag without saying anything, it was after you had taken the small bundle into your hands that he spoke up, a small smile spreading across his facial features

“We’ve tested you throughout this entire week and I’m pretty sure not every single task we entrusted you with was pleasant, but you still held out and did everything the right and proper way...thank you and with this, I’d like to welcome you as Inarizaki’s first and official manager.“

it took you a short while to comprehend just what had happened and while you were still looking at the captain like a lost lamb the rest of the members surrounded and congratulated you

the person who brought you back from your daydream was Atsumu, who tightly wrapped his arms around you in a congratulatory hug

you were quite surprised since up until now he was rather well-behaved and didn’t concern himself so much with you except the usual ‘thank yous’, ‘hellos’ and ‘good evenings’ a club member would give his piers

your bewilderment must’ve been quite evident since someone pulled the blond giant away from you with a sigh

and that someone was no other than his twin brother Osamu who whispered a small apology to you and began to lecture him

“What’s it to ya ‘Samu? Ain’t it ‘bout time we dropped that whole act?”

before they could confuse you more than you already were, Ren placed his big hand on your shoulder giving you a somewhat awkward smile that was meant to console you

Hitoshi joined you two and explained how the team always had to show each candidate the cold shoulder in order to make sure that all applicants were aware of the fact that being the VBC’s manager didn’t mean partying around and chatting up a storm with the members

I see was all you could answer to that rather absurd rule they had come up with

.

..

your first day as the official manager didn’t vary that much from what you had seen during your test week, but at least now you were properly talking with all of the members

needless to say, you also became this day’s conversation topic number one

wherever you walked people would whisper amongst each other how you were the chosen one despite so many applicants

some of your classmates though had the audacity to doubt that you had won the guys over in a legitimate way and made no effort to hide their baseless accusations by speaking unnaturally loud when they were near you

it did bother you a little, but you decided to ignore their envious attempts to get you mad, sad, or whatever their goal was and dedicate yourself to getting to know your club members better...

.

the first few weeks you spent on getting to know the members’ skills as well as their personalities better than what you had seen already in the past week

and before you knew it, you had become not only an essential and precious part of the team but also an irreplaceable friend and companion to each of them

you made sure to help the two captains out as much as you could, but you didn’t only do it out of obligation but because you felt bad for leaving these two - especially Kita - alone with all important tasks

oddly enough a powerful team like theirs didn’t have an advisor so most organizational tasks fell on their shoulders

Kita as dutiful and thorough as he was always tackled the tasks the moment they were given to him so neither Aran nor you ever had the chance to volunteer as helpers

one day though you accepted the assignments before him and distributed them amongst the three of you as equally as you could, whereas you took on a slightly bigger portion since you were their manager

you also made sure that Kita didn’t stay behind until all the streetlights turned on and so it became a tradition for you to join him and Aran on their way back home

during those walks, you got extremely close with them and since they often discussed training and club-related matters, you were also able to learn additional things as well as plan the players’ training regimen for the following days

when you weren’t by their side, you either warmed the bench alongside the other substitute players or tried to help Hitoshi tame the two brothers  

you were aware of their regular disputes and had already witnessed one yourself, but back then the team had helped resolve it so you weren’t needed

and now that they had finally found a manager, they reverted back to their habitual behavior: ignore and enjoy their dispute, film it or just look for Kita to resolve the issue

you on the other hand took it upon yourself to play the mediator and started by stopping Suna from recording or taking a photo of them

needless to say, he wasn’t very happy when you confiscated his phone, but after you explained to him that you were simply worried that as heated as the siblings were they’d one day drag him into their fight, he proposed you a deal

“Let me take at least five photos and two videos before I help with calming them down.“

your eyes narrowed as you took on a very confident pose which made it pretty obvious that you weren’t going to back down from his attempt to bargain with you

“Two photos and one video.“

“Make it three.”

“Denied. You either settle for two photos and one video or nothing at all...take it or leave it Suna.”

as much as he wanted to protest, your smug grin made him yield in the end

next up were the taller and more intimidating-looking players who’d usually stand by and laugh or sigh

“Are you really ok with the whole school making fun of our club and treating it like some kind of fighting club just because of these two dunces?”

they were quite surprised at your sudden question but weren’t as taken aback as you when they immediately headed for the gym doors to shoo away all onlookers        

as for the troublesome siblings you usually stood between them the moment you sensed that they were about to fight

they’d still try to somehow either pinch the other or slap his backside and you at first tolerated it, but after a while, it just got too distracting and annoying so you straight out took hold of each of their hands and wordlessly glared at them

that method started a new trend and now their teammates constantly teased them for being your children and how funny it was to look at their embarrassed faces while you on the other hand showed no reaction whatsoever

you didn’t expect that sort of outcome, but as long as it stopped their fighting it was worth it

.

as their manager, you were also put in charge of organizing training matches as well as signing them up for tournaments and nationals (with the help of the coaches and captains of course)

your first training match was quite exciting and you were surprised at the number of people that came to see it

the guys were almost always in their top form when they played so you rarely had to worry about their health condition and that took quite the weight from your shoulders

even if someone showed the slightest symptoms of a cold or anything of that sorts, Kita and you would instantly be there and get the player to go home and rest

you knew that some of them hated being sick since it meant that they’d miss out on practice and saw it as some kind of betrayal towards the team

Atsumu was one of these types of people and he was the heaviest case out of all of them

so you made sure to drop by the twins’ house after club activities ended and cheer him up, by changing the cloth on his forehead, cutting some apples for him, or just being there to keep him company

after that Osamu would always insist on bringing you home since the sun had already set

the two of you would always talk about the most random things, but sometimes your conversations got quite serious and personal

in fact, you were the first person he shared his future plans with, saying that he could trust you with keeping it a secret

as for the nationals...

your first one was very overwhelming

the gym was so enormous that it outshined any other gym you had visited with them

it was no secret that the entire ambiance intimidated you and the moment you saw their personal cheering squad you couldn’t help but freeze-up

you had heard that their cheering squad was like no other and that it even rivaled that of many other powerhouse schools, but much like other rumors you had dismissed it

...until now

“Impressive isn’t it?” Ren asked to which you just nodded

but you noticed quickly just how much of an effect their audience had during the match

their steady and powerful rhythms managed to not only motive your team but also discompose your opponents

what surprised you the most was how the older gentlemen in the crowd didn’t hold back on their snide remarks when someone made a mistake or didn’t play seriously

after each match, all of you had come up with small rituals you’d do

depending on the outcome of the game you’d either throw a small party to commemorate their victory or try to cheer them up with a motivational speech followed by a  movie night

all in all, you truly came to love volleyball, as well as your team and each of its members, and they did too

they were truly happy to have won such a dependable and caring manager like yourself

the entire team always made sure to celebrate your birthday and go all out on your presents as well as on the party they’d organize for you

all of them always made sure to return your kindness with double the effort and love you had given them

you were sick?

no problem, every day two members would visit you and take turns in taking care of your needs until you were healthy

you were sad?

they’d buy you your favorite snacks, cook you your favorite meal, rent your favorite movie and then knock on your front door, demanding to be let in

...and so on

they had become something like your second family and you didn’t even dare imagine a scenario where you didn’t apply for the position of the manager

the same goes for them, they had given up the hope to find someone who manages their team, but the moment you had entered the gym they almost instantly knew that you’d be the one to take them to victory

and they were right...

[milkybonya]

In THE DaRk

order 004 for anon: large coconut milk tea (In THE DaRk by BOBBy) with regular tapioca pearls and fresh taro

Warnings: food mentions

Pairing: idol!Hui x delivery worker!reader

Summary: you deliver food to cube ent. and end up becoming friends with Hui, an idol who's at the peak of his career... but he finds himself falling for you even as his songs rise on the charts :")

Word count: like maybe 3k?

[a/n]: i love this request because i love this song and writing it while listening to the song on loop in the dark of my room just made me so happy? also i put wayyyy more effort into this than necessary and it turned out super long >.< i'm so sorry anonnie i hope you like itttt ahhh

Shine, you shine on my existence

Sure, Hui was an idol with a life of his own - especially now, during Shine promotions, that his group, PENTAGON, was blowing up. Yet he never failed to make time for you, because you were the light of his life.

As a hardworking idol who was always cooped up in his studio and skipping meals, his members encouraged him to at least order food. He was reluctant but eventually agreed, not wanting to make them worry.

That's where you came in: a delivery worker at a local restaurant not too far from Cube entertainment, Hui's company. A lot of people ordered from your restaurant to Cube, so you weren't surprised when a new order flashed on the iPad screen at your workplace.

"We've got another delivery, [y/n]," the worker at the front told you with a smile, walking to the back to tell the cooks what to prepare.

You tapped your feet against the ground, awaiting the order. Once it was prepared, you carefully placed it in your delivery bag, fastened it to your bike and off you went, wearing a helmet of course.

The gentle breeze was enough to cheer you up and give you energy, despite the scene around you being full of traffic and slightly bleak.

Once you arrived, the guards let you in without even checking your workplace ID this time, recognizing you as a trusted delivery person.

You made your way up to the floor listed on the order, roaming through countless hallways until you finally found the right room. Judging by the area and the doors, it seemed to be full of studios.

The person who ordered this must be working hard, you thought to yourself.

Suddenly, you got an urge to leave a note, wishing the person well. You took out a scrap piece of paper and a pen that you always had handy, your heart racing and your hands shaking at the thought of doing this. You were excited at the idea of the person being happy to see such a cheerful note...

I hope you enjoy this meal and that it gives you enough energy to keep working hard :) Go for it!

After neatly placing the food and note at the door, you knocked and walked away, not wanting to bother the person. Even though you didn't turn your back, you heard the door open a few seconds later.

"Thank you!" a voice echoed through the hall.

You turned quickly to say ‘you’re welcome’ in response and caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a young idol hard at work. His hair was messy and he had dark circles under his eyes, but his mismatches clothes and bright smile were quite cute.

You thought that would be the last you’d see of him, but from that day onwards, he always ordered food from your restaurant at the same time: 2:09pm. Why so specific? You weren’t sure, but that’s how it was, and you being the only delivery worker at your restaurant meant that it would always be you taking the food to him.

The second time you went, you were surprised to see a note waiting on the door for you.

Thank you for your cheerful message... I’ll do my best to work harder!

It made you smile and you decided to leave another note with his order, this time just asking him what his favourite side dishes were so you could tell the cooks to put more of those in next time. Instead of him leaving a note for you with the response, though, Hui decided to text you this time so he wouldn't have to wait for you to make another delivery before you could see his response.

Unknown: This is Hui! Ah, I ordered food from you at 2:09pm? I'm not really picky on side dishes, but one of my members likes kimchi, so could you make sure to leave more of that for me?

You: sure, of course! but how did you get my number?

Hardworking Hui: Ah, sorry! It was on the app since you're the delivery worker... for me to contact you in case you get lost? I'm sorry!

You: No, that's okay! i just wanted to be sure ^^

So after that day, you made sure Hui always got extra kimchi with his order. He would always greet you at the door of his studio, quickly asking about your day and how you were doing. Truthfully, he actually wanted to ask you to come inside so he could talk with you some more, because the two of you would always get an interesting conversation going before you declared you had to leave.

Since he was too shy to ask you in person, he texted you, instead.

Hardworking Hui: could you get the rest of the day off after delivering my order today?

You: why?

Hardworking Hui: so you can eat with me? if that's okay? or just take an hour off!

You: ...

You: Only if you pay for my food :P

Hardworking Hui: deal

So that day, you asked your manager for the hour off from 2:30pm to 3:30pm. She agreed, knowing that you always work hard and deserve a break.

Showing up to Hui's studio with his usual order and some food for yourself in your hands, you knocked a little nervously this time, knowing that this wouldn't just be a delivery, but a whole... hang out? Type of thing?

Hui had made sure to clean his studio to the best of his ability, making sure that there was another comfy chair for you to sit on and that the room didn't smell bad or anything. He lit a couple of candles and vacuumed the place so there would be no dust. When you knocked on the door, he jumped out of his seat with excitement, immediately opening it.

"Hi! Come in," he said, holding the door open so you could step inside. Seeing the cosy, dimly lit space left you in awe.

"It's so cool to see where you've been working away for all this time," you said, sitting down on a chair and putting the food down.

"Yeah... sometimes I get tired of it, but it's home," Hui said, sitting on his studio chair and opening up the food.

"Ah... where's the kimchi?" Hui asked, pointing at all the dishes.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I told the cook to include my favourite side dish too, but he must have just replaced the kimchi with this instead, I'm so sorry!"

Hui laughed, shaking his head.

"It's completely fine!" he said, handing you your favourite side dish.

As the two of you began eating, you were able to get to know each other more as you spoke and asked each other questions. Even though it was a little silly asking for each other's favourite colours and seasons, it was a lot of fun, and the two of you turned out to have a lot in common.

Tears are erased by my emotions / Add, add colour to the world

After that day, you weren't just a delivery worker for Hui, and he wasn't just a customer to you. The two of you became close friends, attending the concerts of your favourite artists together. Hui would joke and say that he was attending for work reasons, trying to gain musical inspiration, while you had no real reason to be there. You'd slap his shoulder lightly, telling him to watch his words while he'd laugh at your reaction.

Even though his work was stressful at times, it was days like those that seemed to make him cry in reverse, if that was even possible? You showed up and turned his world around, adding colour onto his black and white canvas.

His members even told him that he seemed more cheerful and energetic despite still working hard in the studio, and Hui even told you that his songwriting process seemed to be running more smoothly.

"I'm so glad we became friends," he told you, leaning his head on your shoulder one day as the two of you sat on a park bench. You smiled, strongly agreeing with him in your own heart.

But do you remember when I mentioned Shine promotions at the beginning of this? Well, let's skip forward to that point.

By then, you had seen Hui and his group perform quite a few times, whether it was at concerts, music shows or even on the TV at your home. You were incredibly proud of him and wanted nothing but for him to succeed.

Every time Hui found you in the crowd at any of his live performances, he'd feel some kind of crazy adrenaline rush as all of his tiredness just seemed to magically disappear. He'd perform as if rent was due just because you gave him the energy to do so.

"Was [y/n] watching us again?" Hyunggu asked backstage after another performance for Shine ended safely.

"Yeah, I saw them there!" Hongseok confirmed.

"Plus, you can tell by the way Hui is acting," Yuto laughed, nodding towards Hui who was frantically texting you asking you if you'd left completely.

You told him you were still at the venue, and he begged you to come backstage. When you arrived, you greeted all of the Pentaboys, who adored you almost as much as Hui did, before joining Hui at his makeup table. You greeted the makeup artist too, out of respect, before asking Hui why he needed to see you so urgently.

"We might win today... I just wanted you to be by my side as good luck," he explained, a clearly worried expression on his face.

It was a shock to you that despite Shine doing so well on the charts, Pentagon still had not gotten their first win, but you knew they were an amazing group, regardless.

What you doing now? What's your plan now?

You placed your hand on top of Hui's, which rested on his own thigh.

"Hui, I know you haven't been getting all the wins you've been expecting, but we can't deny that this song is absolutely a bop and you have all been killing it!" you told him with a smile.

You couldn't tell whether or not your words had any sort of effect on him because he was looking down, but you hoped they at least didn't make him feel worse.

The rest of the Pentaboys cheered hearing your words though, feeling energized at your honest observation.

Hui was looking down because his stomach was tied in knots at the feeling of your hand on his. It was something he'd never felt before... butterflies? He tried to shrug it off but he couldn't stop wondering about your intentions... did you place your hand over his for a reason? What were you trying to tell him? What were you planning?

Inside my brain, after making a place for you / You make it impossible for me to sleep

That night, Hui still couldn't stop thinking about your simple gesture. You didn't mean anything by it, right? It was just a friend comforting a friend... the two of you had been friends for a while now, so why was he thinking into this so much?

As feelings of sleepiness took over, he drowsily wondered what it would be like to hold your hand rather than to just have his hand underneath yours. What would it be like to be held by you?

-

The next day, with more promotions ahead, you made sure to send Hui a text of good luck. You wouldn't be able to watch from the live audience that day, since you had work and deliveries to carry out, but you still wanted him to know that you were thinking of him.

Hui couldn't stop staring at your message of good luck for the whole day, pressing his finger on the heart emoji that you added at the end of your message.

"Hui hyung, are you reading something?" Wooseok asked the leader, sitting beside him on the sofa in the waiting room.

"Huh? N-no," Hui quickly said with a laugh, tucking his phone away.

"You've been staring at your phone all day... what is it, is it a fun webtoon?"

"No, no! Don't worry about it," Hui laughed, ruffling the tall boy's hair.

Wooseok whined, yelling about how the stylist just did his hair. Meanwhile, Hui's heart was racing. Why had he been staring at your text message all day?

You: I'm thinking of you today, Hui! Go get em, good luck <3

Are you thinking of me in this dawn? / I wish there was a continuous portal from my room to yours

Again, that night, Hui couldn't stop thinking about you. This time, it was about the message you'd sent him. He still had it open and was staring at it. He wondered if, when you said you were thinking of him, did that mean you were thinking of him right then and there too? At the same time when he was thinking about you?

Were your sleepless thoughts filled with him, just like his were filled with you-?

Ring ring. Ring ring.

Shit.

He'd been staring at your text and holding his phone so tightly that he accidentally pressed the call icon next to your name.

"Hello?" you answered sleepily. It was 3am and you had been asleep.

"H-hello? [y/n]?"

"Yes, Hui, what is it?"

"I uh..."

He desperately tried to think of an excuse for calling you, any reason-

"I wish there was a portal that went directly from my room to yours."

Really, Hui? Was that the best thing you could think of?

His heart raced and he smiled as he heard your laugh on the other end. He didn't realize he'd balled his other hand into a fist until your laughter made him calm down.

"What are you saying, Hui?"

"I miss you..." he mumbled.

Despite being sleepy, his words still made you nervous. Your heart raced and you wondered what he was trying to tell you.

"I m-miss you too," you croaked out.

"Really?" Hui asked you, sitting up in bed.

"Yeah, really," you said, laughing. It wasn't a lie, either. You'd been watching all of his performances on your phone that day while working, almost falling off your bike because you were that invested. In him.

"Do you wanna meet up now?"

"Now?" you spluttered.

"Yeah... by the Han River?"

You paused for a while before answering.

"Let's do it."

Even if I breathe in the cold air / It feels sweet, so sweet

"AHHH IT'S SO COOOOLD!" Hui yelled into the night air, rubbing his arms and running around in circles beside you.

"Here, take my coat," you said, but instead just wrapping your arms around him.

Hui tensed up, wondering if your arm that was wrapped around his chest could feel his heartbeat.

"W-what are you doing?" he asked.

"Providing you with warmth," you said.

You also felt butterflies stirring within you, realizing that maybe you saw Hui as more than just a friend. Yet you shrugged it off, telling yourself that Hui was an idol and you were just a delivery worker.

You can't know my pathetic feelings / Even if I've confessed a hundred times inside my brain / I'm invisible to you

Hui stayed quiet, closing his eyes tightly and enjoying the feeling of being in your arms on this cold night. He knew this embrace wouldn't last and that maybe it wouldn't happen again, because in his mind, he was invisible to you. Just a friend who you goofed around with, but all of your jokes made his heart rush.

The two of you ran around the grassy banks of Han River together, laughing into the night and chasing each other like kids. Each time Hui caught up to you, he'd wrap his small frame around you so tightly that it made you lose your breath. You told yourself it was just because you were running so hard, but it was definitely something else.

As the sun was beginning to rise and the two of you were finally in your homes, trying to get some sleep, Hui imagined what it would be like to confess to you. What if he confessed right there and then when you hugged him by the Han River? What if he told you how much he likes you and... what if you felt the same? What if you cupped his cheeks in your hands and kissed him right there as the river reflected the starlight from the sky...? What if Hui would drop his phone in shock but would kiss you back more passionately?

No, Hui. No.

If I ever want you to feel the same / That must be greedy, that'd probably be a chance to peek into heaven / 'Cause you are angel

There was no way any of that would ever happen. There was no way you would ever like him back, at least for Hui. You were way too good for him, an angel on this planet full of demons and sinners.

Little did he know that you were also squinting at the sun, struggling to get some sleep as you thought of the way Hui would press his face into your chest every time he caught up to you at the Han River as you chased each other for fun. His bright smile and gentle laughter made your heart feel like the Han River itself, gently flowing along but filled with such a refreshing feeling.

After another week of intense Shine promotions, Hui feeling all sorts of emotions as Shine continued to soar while his feelings for you also grew, it became unbearable. The two of you would talk late into the night, whether it was sending texts because Hui was busy working or whether it was phone calls. Hui thought about you every second of every day and always missed you a ton.

Please know that I like you / I just want to be there for the rest of your life

Hui asked you to meet him in his studio one evening, as he knew your work schedule and knew that you were free. You agreed, slightly confused as to how he was making time to meet with you despite being so busy.

"Hui, I'm here!" you sang, opening the door to his studio and finding him sitting there in his chair, looking especially cute as his hair was slightly ruffled and he wore a big, comfy hoodie.

"[y/n], I have to tell you something," he said, with a slightly sad smile.

"Yeah, what is it?"

You grew worried, but decided not to make a fuss over anything just yet.

"So, for some time now.... well, of course we've been good friends, and I don't want this to ruin that if you don't feel the same..."

He sighed mid-sentence.

"Gosh, I don't know why I'm rambling," he said with a laugh.

You instinctively laughed along.

"Well, [y/n]. I like you... a lot. I know it's pathetic for me to feel this way when I don't even deserve you, but-"

"You like me?" you cut him off.

Hui nodded in response, looking slightly red now.

Nervous and absolutely bewildered, you starting laughing to yourself, making Hui worry if he'd said something wrong.

"Hui, I... I like you too, what the hell?! And here I was thinking I was pathetic!"

"You're not pathetic at all!" Hui said, grinning widely and bright red in the face upon hearing your answer to his confession.

Both of you nervously smiled at each other for some time before Hui broke the silence.

"I know... it may be hard to date me... well no, it will be hard to date me since I'm an idol, but I promise I'll give this my everything. It's a given, because of how much I like you and how lucky I am for you to even date me-"

"I never said I was dating you," you joked.

"What?" Hui asked in shock.

"I'm joking! Hui, it's okay. We'll get through these difficulties together, whatever they may be," you said, holding half of his face in your right hand, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

Hui leaned into your touch, closing his eyes.

"You're right," he said, before turning his face and pressing his lips to your hand.

[fangirlings-things]

38 to 58%

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader

Word count: 1.6K

Summary: on your very first day on the Bureau that seemed to be going just fine, what was supposed to be just a mug of coffee turned out to be much more chaotic than that

anon said: hey could I please have something cute with Spencer Reid, like when a female reader and him first meet in the Bureau? I'm not being very specific but I love your ideas, so hope this is okay!!

A/N: hii lovely anon! I loved this request, it was so sweet and is the first time I'm writing a Spencer story so yayyy! I hope you like this, lots of love and thank you for requesting 💖

GIF IS NOT MINE || TAG LIST: @imaginesofyourfandom ; @locke-writes ; @regalbanshee

You couldn't believe it was finally happening.

After fours years in college studying criminology, two more in the Academy to prepare you in every way needed and a lot of stress in psychological analysis and interviews, you had finally been hired. The Federal Bureau of Investigation gave you a call two days before and congratulated you, because you were now an agent. And as yourself had chosen to be, a profiler in the BAU division.

You had got to the official building very early as instructed to get your credentials with Chief Strauss, a woman who you quickly realized wasn’t someone you would should ever disappoint. After that, she had said you could wait around freely while waiting for your direct superior, the leader of your team, to arrive.

You firstly had sat in silence in some available chairs on the same floor for more than thirty minutes. You waited and waited, and then waited some more. Nothing. No one came up to you like she had said they would. And so, you saw something that attracted your attention. A few other agents, carrying around mugs of something that from the smell, had to be coffee. Turned out, you loved coffee. And as the thought of just sitting around for more unpredictable time made you anxious, you decided after a few seconds of hesitation to get up and make your way to from where those agents had came from.

You decided that for sure, that would be your favorite spot at the Bureau. There was a long counter in one of the corners of the incredibly large division of the floor that you had just entered, over which there were various mugs and the smell of recently made coffee filled the air. Incredibly satisfied and feeling more calm for the first time since you had waken up on that day, five minutes later you had a mug filled with coffee with just the amount of sugar you liked.

Now, you could wait peacefully for as long as you had to.

You began to make your way back to where you had been waiting before, close to Chief Strauss' office. There, you thought, it would be easier for your superior to find you and if there was something you didn’t want, was to cause problems to the man on your very first day.

Your eyes were on the mug, watching the drink wave around a bit inside of it as you walked in a soft, careful pace. You were halfway there, when suddenly everything ceased to be fine and turned into chaos as a body collided hard against yours.

First, you felt it. The hot of the liquid you had intended to drink now burning your chest and hands, making instinctively jump backwards. Then, you felt the wetness of it on your previously dry, white shirt and finally, you smelled it. You were exhaling the smell of coffee as if you had just become a mug filled with it yourself. Oh, no. No coherent thoughts crossed your mind as all you could feel was a slight panic. No, that couldn’t be happening on first day. It couldn’t.

The other person, a guy, looked as bad as you. His brown coat was now filled with dark stains in multiple places and he too smelled like coffee. What was worse for him though, it that he was holding a book. Or had been, at least. Now the pages were wet and partially destroyed. You hated yourself right then and there.

“I am so sorry” you said firmly, imagining to be looking completely stupid, now holding an empty mug. For a brief second, you let yourself really look at the guy and you realized that he was quite beautiful, with short messy hair and curious eyes that had their gaze fixed on you. “I am really sorry, I wasn’t looking and…”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t looking either” he stated, in a tone that held nothing of the anger or frustration you had been expecting to hear. In fact, he didn’t seem bothered at all. “Did you know that statistically, of all burns requiring hospitalization in one year, 38 to 58% are due to hot liquids or steam?” he probably noticed the shocked expression on your face, because he quickly continued talking. “Not that I or you will need hospitalization. I was just telling you a curious fact”

“Oh, I didn’t think that…” you stopped talking, took a deep breath and actually managed to smile, even though you had just ruined both yours and his clothes for that day of work that was just beginning. “I was just shocked because that’s a very unusual cool thing to know”

“You really think so?” the guy with messy hair also smiled and did he have a nice smile. Before you even realized it, he had one of his hands out, offered in your direction. “I’m Doctor Spencer Reid”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)” you shock his hand with the less dirty of coffee of yours. When you pulled your hand back, your eyes went to his book again and you sighted heavily. “I’m sorry about your book” and then, you looked at his coat. “and your clothes”

“Oh, I've read this book five times already. I was just bored” he closed the dripping coffee pages and you were able to read the title. Fundamentals of Physics. That guy was definitely, not ordinary. “And as for my clothes, I have a travel bag in here. I’ll just change”

“Oh” you mumbled, feeling a great amount of relief fill your whole being. Also, a bit of envy. “Wish I had one of those” for the way he frowned at you, you assumed it was normal for agents to keep travel bags in the office. “It’s my first day” you then explained, shrugging.

“Oh, that’s great. BAU?” he asked and you nodded. “Welcome to the job” as you smiled back thankful, a thought seemed to cross his mind and seconds afterwards, his face lit up with something you assumed to be an idea. “Come with me”

You both stopped back at the counter for a moment. He threw the book in the trash can and you placed the empty mug inside the sink. Using napkins, you both dried the most wet places of both of your clothes and then you followed Doctor Reid as he walked through the agent’s desks, completely familiar with the place.

“Emily” he called when you both approached the desk of a brunette agent that standing up with her arms crossed over chest, talked with another agent, a man. They were both laughing at something and suddenly, you felt like an intruder. They both turned to look at Doctor Reid and consequently, at you. “Do you have a shirt to borrow to (Y/N)? It’ her first day and we… well” he looked down at his own coat, and the agent named Emily understood what he meant.

“Yeah, sure” she knelt down and pulled something from under her desk. A black travel bag. Looking inside of it for a few moments, she then got up again and offered you a blue shirt.

“Thank you so much” you couldn’t even believe your own luck and that stranger’s kindness. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N)” you grabbed the blue shirt with one hand and the other, you gave out for her.

“Emily Prentiss” she smiled warmly and sympathetically, shaking your hand. “And please, I’m happy to help. We’ve all had first days” when she pulled back her hand, she crossed her arms again. “Are you going to be in the BAU?” you nodded.

“Congratulations. Hi, I’m Derek Morgan” the other agent gave out his hand and you shook it with a smile on your face. “Who is your unit chief?”

“Aaron Hotchner?” Doctor Reid risked, with something in his voice that you couldn’t quite identify. The others two though, seemed to read right through him by the way they looked at him with small smiles before looking back at you.

“No, Sam Cooper” you answered, repeating the name Chief Strauss had told you before. At the mention of your now boss, you widened your eyes, thinking about the possibility of him having arrived and be looking for you like crazy. “I really have to go. Thank you, Emily. Can I have your phone number, to call you later and return this?” you raised the shirt a bit, smiling, a bit embarrassed.

“Absolutely” Emily turned around to grab a pen.

“Why don’t Reid keep your number?” Morgan suggested, shrugging with a big smile on his lips. From the corner of your eye, you saw that Doctor Reid was looking at him with eyes as widened as yours had been seconds before. “He can give you a call one of this days, we can all go out for drinks or whatever and you can return Prentiss' shirt”

“Yeah, sure” you replied, surprised by the suggestion. Emily gave you the pen she had caught along with a post-it and quickly, you wrote down your phone number. Then, you gave the post-it to Doctor Reid. “Again, I’m sorry Doctor Reid. It was a pleasure meeting you. You all, in fact” you smiled at Emily and Morgan too before rushing your way to the bathroom to change.

“My, my, Reid. Her first day and you already have her phone number. That’s my man” Morgan put a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, teasingly. “How did you manage that?” he then asked, although it had been him who suggested that you left Reid your phone number, just to provoque the other.

Eyes still on the door through where you had disappeared moments before, Spencer thought out loud. “I bumped into her and told her the statistics on required hospitalizations related to burns”

[morganaspendragonss]

if your looking for a bth prompt what about used in sacrificial ritual where tk gets abducted on a run and carlos is the lead detective on this case of people getting murdered as sacrifices and they arrive in time to save tk but the ritual involved cutting limbs off and tk ends up losing a leg? perhaps w lots of fluff at the end? <3<3

anon, i cannot tell you how excited this prompt got me. i’d been toying with a very similar idea for weeks and this was the push i needed to actually write it - with certain modifications to fit your idea. (i promise it has a happy ending!)

i’m super proud of how this came out, and i hope you like it as much as i do!

@911lonestarangstweek day 7:  Free choice!

Two months ago, TK vanished, snatched while out on his evening run. Carlos will do anything to get him back, even if that includes running himself into the ground.

ao3 | 4.9k | cw: kidnapping, depictions of violence, death and injury, forced amputation, career-ending injuries

It’s been two months.

Two whole months since TK left for his evening run with nothing but a shouted goodbye and a promise to be home soon.

Two months since Carlos hadn’t even turned around, because apparently the dishes were more important than his husband.

Two months since they found TK’s shattered phone and wallet, abandoned in the park next to a pool of blood.

Two months since Carlos’s world came crashing down around him.

He blames himself - how could he not? He’s been the lead detective on this case for months; he’s the one who’s so far failed to catch the guys who have mutilated and killed so many people, and now might do the same to his husband. More to the point, he’s the one who is supposed to protect TK, and it’s clear he’s resoundly failed in that department.

His captain had tried to take him off the case, once they’d found out that TK had become the latest victim. But Carlos had informed him in no uncertain terms that he was going to keep looking for his husband, even if he had to go above his head to do it. 

They’d allowed him to keep the case, but Carlos knows he’s being watched. They think he’s having a breakdown and, the thing is, Carlos isn’t entirely sure they’re wrong.

He hasn’t slept in their bed since the night it happened, when he got woken up at two am to the sound of his ringtone blaring through the room.

“Reyes,” Mitchell had said, tone heavy. “I… Shit, Reyes. You gotta get here. There’s another one and I… I really didn’t want to be telling you this over the phone, but…”

She’d paused, and Carlos had sat bolt upright in bed, suddenly all too aware of the empty space next to him. And, in that moment, he’d known; even so, he’d still choked out a quiet, “No.”

“I’m sorry, Carlos. I truly am.”

*

He’s been living in a daze ever since, work and TK the only two things on his mind. He eats when he has to, barely sleeps, and never hangs out with their friends anymore, which he almost feels guilty for. They’re suffering too, Carlos knows this, but he can’t afford any distractions right now. If he were to be out somewhere and ends up missing the one chance he has to get TK back, he’d never forgive himself.

He’s just about to leave for another shift when there’s a loud, insistent knock at the door. Carlos rolls his eyes and goes to yank it open, about to tell whoever it is to leave him alone.

Only to come face-to-face with a very determined looking Grace Ryder.

“Grace,” he sighs, irritation dissipating. “Can this wait? I’ve got a -”

“I know you don’t have an official shift today, Carlos,” she interrupts, folding her arms. “Just like I know you’re working yourself to death, and I’m not going to stand for it anymore. You’re coming out with me, no arguments.”

Carlos shakes his head. “Grace… I can’t.”

“Oh, yes, you can.” She clicks her tongue, levelling him with an unimpressed stare. "You should be thanking me; Judd was planning on bringing the entire crew down here to stage a full intervention. Now, I managed to talk him out of that one, convinced him the last thing you need right now is a house full of people, but I will not hesitate to go back on that. So you've got two options. Either you go back upstairs and get changed and I'll take you out for coffee, just the two of us, or I'm gonna unleash my husband and the full force of the 126 on you. Choice is yours, Reyes."

He sighs, wearily meeting her eyes. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

"No, sir, you are not."

Carlos closes his eyes and hangs his head, knowing just how stubborn Grace Ryder can be. “Alright,” he says, though his every nerve is screaming at him for it, “you win. Give me a minute.”

She smiles encouragingly at him. “I’ll be here.”

*

The coffee-shop Grace takes him to is mercifully empty, both of people and memories. He wonders if she did this on purpose, but figures it’s more a stroke of pure luck, his first in months. It’s a nice place; he’ll have to remember it for when - if - they get TK back.

Grace quickly returns with their drinks, placing a sandwich in front of Carlos, too. “Don’t even argue,” she warns. “I won’t hear it.”

Carlos forces a smile. “Thanks, Grace.”

They sit in silence for a while, Carlos keeping his gaze turned to the table, picking listlessly at the sandwich. He can feel Grace’s eyes on him, feel the tension in the air between them, and part of him wishes she’d just come out with it already.

The other part wants to run for the hills, but he’s pretty sure Grace would catch him before he got too far.

Eventually, she sighs, setting her mug down and leaning across the table. “Carlos, we miss you,” she says softly. “I know it’s tough, but you’ve barely spoken to any of us since it happened. We’re worried.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“No.” She shakes her head, voice still unbearably gentle. “You’ve been keeping yourself busy. There’s a difference. And that’s okay, up to a point, but you haven’t given yourself a break in two months and that is not okay. You know TK wouldn’t want you to be doing this.”

“You say that like he’s dead.”

Grace sucks in a sharp breath. “Sweetheart, you know that is not what I meant -”

“Maybe you’re right,” he cuts in, ignoring the pain in his chest as he finally looks up at Grace. “It’s been two months; you know as well as I do what survival rates are for missing persons, even in normal circumstances.” His breathing trembles and he squeezes his eyes shut, images of the bodies they’ve found so far flashing through his mind. His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks next. “You also know that the third month is usually when the bodies appear. We’re running out of time, Grace, and I don’t - I don’t know if I believe any more.”

“Carlos Strand-Reyes, I did not just hear you give up on that boy.”

He smiles humourlessly. “Not on him, Grace. On me.”

A long silence follows his words, though Carlos can feel the disappointment and worry rolling off Grace in waves. He should probably feel guilty for ruining a perfectly fine day, but he’s just so tired. He’ll do anything to have TK by his side again, but each day that passes is another day that TK slips further and further away from him, and it’s difficult to hold on to hope.

“I’m terrified,” Carlos admits quietly, tears pricking the back of his eyes. “Any day now they’re going to tell me they’ve found another body, and it’s going to be him, and I won’t be able to handle seeing him like that. You don’t know what they do to them, Grace, it’s - it’s -”

His breath hitches, and suddenly Grace is next to him, gathering him in her arms as he breaks down in sobs against her chest. She shushes him, running a gentle hand through his hair and, for a brief moment, she makes it easy to push away memories of sightless eyes and missing limbs and slit throats.

Grace holds him close, murmuring assurances Carlos doesn’t really hear, until he’s cried himself dry. Then, she pulls back, swiping her thumbs under his eyes, unshed tears shining in her own.

“You’ll get through this, Carlos,” she says, wobbly smile on her face. “No matter the outcome, we’ll all be here to help you get through this.”

Carlos nods, but, privately, he thinks she’s wrong. If TK dies, he’s not sure he’ll be able to find a way through that, no matter how many people are by his side. Because the only one he really, truly needs, won’t be there. 

*

Carlos rubs his eyes, his vision blurring as he stares at crime scene photos, as he has been doing for the past however many hours. He must have gone through these thousands of times over the past eight months, and yet he’s still drawing a complete blank as to clues that could help them find the killers.

They’re always too careful, never leaving any DNA on scene, never caught on camera, never seen by witnesses. There’s not even much of a common denominator between the victims, aside from the fact that they’re all young - the oldest being 38 - and they were all alone when they were taken.

The only consistency in this entire thing is the bodies. Official cause of death is always a deep cut to the throat, accompanied by at least one limb being cut off when the victim was still alive, sometimes more. They never find the missing body parts, which bothers Carlos more than it probably should.

He rubs his eyes again, blinking hard to try and stay awake. He didn’t sleep well last night, which is nothing new, but the past two weeks have been exhausting. After Grace’s coffee outing, the 126 have been stopping by regularly, one or two at a time, to check up on him and make sure he’s doing okay. Carlos appreciates it, he does, but he doesn’t have the energy for it these days. 

He’s so tired that he doesn’t notice Mitchell walking up to his desk before she’s standing right next to him, casting a shadow over his papers. Carlos looks up, and dread washes over him at the grim expression on her face, the tense set to her shoulders.

“We’ve got another one.”

Carlos makes a noise halfway between a choke and a sob. “A body?” he whispers, looking up at her fearfully.

“A disappearance,” Mitchell corrects, and Carlos doesn’t even feel guilty for the relief that floods him at that. “Industrial estate across town, one of the workers got nabbed when he went for a smoke. Same MO, no witnesses - it’s them.”

He nods, praying that Mitchell doesn’t notice the way his hands shake as he gathers up his papers. If she does, she doesn’t say anything, though he catches her exasperated head shake when he turns back to face her.

“Let’s go.”

*

The crime scene is, as always, pristine, and Carlos can’t help but be frustrated, even if this is what he’s come to expect. The case had been wearing on him even before TK was taken, but now it feels like every dead end is a spit in his face, like the universe is taunting him directly.

He’s about to wrap up the scene when a young officer comes barreling towards him.

“Detective!” he yells, panting. “Detective Reyes!”

Carlos stops, raising an eyebrow as the officer skids to a halt in front of him, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” he gasps. Straightening, he clears his throat, pointing across the street. “There’s a hidden speed camera over there.”

Carlos blinks. Of all the ground-breaking news he imagined might warrant such dramatics, speed cameras weren’t one of them. 

The officer heaves a long-suffering sigh, which, under any other circumstances, might be amusing. “We’re not sure yet, but, looking at the angle, we think it covers the place the guy got taken from,” he explains, and Carlos’s eyes widen. “If it does, we might be able to get some ID, maybe even a license plate. I know they’ve always been careful not to get caught on camera before, but they might not have known about this one. It’s a chance, Detective.”

Carlos breathes out shakily, mind reeling from the officer’s words. It’s a chance. An honest-to-god chance. “Have we pulled footage yet?”

“Doing that now.” The officer grins boyishly, and Carlos feels a small smile tugging at his own lips. He can’t let himself get too invested in this; there’s every chance that it’ll turn into yet another false lead. And yet.

Something like hope lights up Carlos’s chest, and he dares, just for a second, to believe in it.

*

It works.

It fucking works.

They don’t have an ID - the killers are at least smart enough to cover their faces - but they do have a plate, which they’ve managed to track to a warehouse on the outskirts of town. Carlos taps the steering wheel of his cruiser anxiously; they’re parked in some trees just out of sight of the building, and he itches with the desire to jump out and go.

Every second they wait here is one more second in which TK is still with them, suffering, dying. He chews on his lip, then turns to Mitchell.

“We clear on the plan?”

She raises an eyebrow. “I am. Are you?”

“What -”

“I know what this means for you, Reyes,” she interrupts, not unkindly. “I know what might be waiting for you in there. Now, if it were up to me, you would be benched. It’s too personal, and you’re way too close to it. But, since it’s not, you’ve gotta promise me that your head is screwed on tight, you hear me? We’ve got a good plan, and it’ll work, but it’s only good so long as we are all following it. So, you tell me. Are we clear on the plan?”

Carlos swallows thickly, glancing back in the direction of the warehouse. Mitchell is right - he is too close to it, and he’d be thinking the same thing if the situation were in reverse. He just… He can’t fathom being anywhere but here right now.

He can do this; he knows he can.

He has to, for TK. 

“Yes,” he says firmly, meeting her eyes. “We’ve got this.”

She nods. “Alright, then.” Her gaze shifts past him and she jerks her chin up. “There’s the signal. Let’s move out.”

*

It’s almost too easy, in the end. The suspects are woefully unprepared for an ambush, and Carlos doesn’t even need to fire his gun, which is always a good thing. They find the guy who was taken today in the same room as his kidnappers, a little worse for wear, but not too injured, all things considered.

Carlos wants to be happy about that, but he can’t. Not when TK is still nowhere in sight.

Mitchell takes over managing the scene and questioning the hostage. He’ll have to remember to buy something for her in thanks when this is all over; she’s been a rock over the past three months, often covering for Carlos with their supervisors when things became too much.

He glances around at the swarms of police and paramedics filling the warehouse, feeling oddly detached from it all. He’s itching to go looking for TK, but there’s only so far he can push things - though he’s being no help here, he has to maintain an appearance if he wants to not get fired.

That appearance being, the calm and collected detective, which is the furthest thing from what Carlos is right now.

His hands tap restlessly at his thighs, his senses dialled to eleven with anxiety, which only spikes when he sees an officer making her way towards him, a grim look on her face.

Please, god, no.

Carlos moves to meet her, but he’s not able to form the words for the question he needs to ask. Fortunately, she takes pity on him.

“We’ve found your husband, Detective,” she informs him.

Carlos swallows around the lump in his throat, trying to tamp down the fear. “Is he...?”

“Alive,” she says, and Carlos could cry with relief. “But he’s in bad shape. I’ve been told not to let you back there.”

He stares at her, dumbfounded. “I appreciate the concern, but my husband has been missing for nearly three months,” he says tightly. “It would not be a wise idea to keep me from him any longer.”

She hesitates, biting her lip uncertainly, but eventually relents under Carlos’s hard stare. “Alright. Follow me.”

Carlos is led down several corridors until they stop outside a door, guarded by two other officers. The woman who brought him has a whispered argument with them, but Carlos pushes past her to glare at them, his patience at an end now that he knows that TK is mere feet away from him.

“I told her to bring me here,” he says. “That man in there is my husband; I’m going in there one way or another.”

The two officers exchange a glance, then wearily sigh and nod, stepping to the side. Carlos doesn’t bother to thank them before rushing inside, coming up short at the sight of three paramedics crouched around a body on the ground. He can’t really see much of TK yet, but he feels frozen in place, his mind suddenly rebelling at the thought of having to witness what three months of captivity have done to him.

He shakes his head and wills his feet forward, feeling like he’s walking through treacle as he rounds to TK’s side. Bile rises in his throat and he can’t stop the gasp that escapes him when he finally catches sight of his husband - it’s worse than anything Carlos had imagined, and he’d imagined a lot.

TK’s completely naked; the paramedics have lain a sheet over his lower half, but it does little to hide his emaciated state, his entire body outlined with sharp corners where his skin seems almost shrink-wrapped to his bones. Carlos can count every one of TK’s ribs, and the hollow of his cheeks is deeply pronounced. His torso is discoloured from bruising and he’s horribly still and pale - Carlos would think he were dead if not for the barely there rise and fall of his chest.

That’s not the worst of it, though. Carlos’s eyes travel down TK’s body, cataloguing his injuries, before sticking on his left leg.

Or, rather, the space where his left leg used to be.

Carlos barely refrains from throwing up, his stomach turning at the bloody mess in front of him. This isn’t… In the back of his mind - in his nightmares - he’d known that this was a possibility, but he’d never prepared himself for actually seeing it. He doesn’t know if he could have prepared himself, even if he’d tried.

“Detective.”

He’s broken from his horrified staring by one of the paramedics, now standing in front of him. Strange - Carlos hadn’t noticed him moving.

He sighs, obviously disapproving of Carlos’s presence here, but his expression holds nothing but sympathy. “Your husband is lucky we got here when we did,” he says. “But I can’t make any promises, and he is nowhere near out of the woods yet. To be perfectly honest with you, Detective, it’s a miracle he’s still breathing right now. He’s severely dehydrated and suffering from starvation - it looks like his kidnappers were giving him just barely enough food and water for him to survive. I’m also worried about infection in his leg, plus there might be injuries we can’t see yet. We’ve done everything we can for him here, but we have to get him to the hospital as soon as possible. I’m assuming you’re going to ride with us?”

Carlos immediately nods. There’s no way he’s going to remain here, even if he knows he won’t be able to stay with TK when they get to the hospital. He trusts Mitchell to handle things, and he wouldn’t be of much use anyway, even more so than before. Not after everything he’s seen, everything he’s heard.

The paramedics get TK loaded on a gurney and Carlos follows them out, eyes locked on TK’s still form. He brushes a hand through TK’s limp hair, forcing back the tears burning in his eyes.

“Hold on, my love,” he whispers. “I’m here; you’re safe now.”

He hopes, somehow, that TK hears him.

*

“Oh my god.”

Carlos looks up from the bed at the sound of Owen’s voice. His father-in-law has a hand over his mouth, shock written all over his face at the sight of TK - what little that can be seen underneath all the bandages and machines he has hooked up to him. Carlos had done his best to prepare Owen for what he’d face when he arrived, but it had been an impossible task. He’d barely been able to get the words out, for one, but there was no explaining just how bad things are.

Nothing will ever be the same. Not that Carlos had ever expected that it would, but when (if, he reminds himself) TK wakes up, it will be to a completely different life than the one he had walked out of all those months ago. 

The physical injuries alone would be bad enough - and, god, he’ll have to do so much at home to make it safe for TK - but he’s more worried about how this will have affected him in other ways. Carlos can’t imagine the level of trauma his husband has suffered, and he just prays that they can find a way to get through it.

Owen’s face crumples as he makes his way across the room, collapsing heavily in the chair on the other side of the bed. He reaches out as though to touch TK, but snatches his hands back just as quickly, expression stricken. “Oh my god,” he repeats.

Carlos lets him be for a few moments, allowing Owen to process what he’s seeing at his own pace. He turns away so that he can have some semblance of privacy, though he can’t ignore the soft sobs he hears. It’s almost as though they’re mourning TK, even though they now have proof he’s alive, which is more than can be said for the last three months.

Eventually, Owen sniffs, and turns to address Carlos. “Have they… What did the doctors say?”

“Nothing concrete,” Carlos answers, focusing his gaze back on TK. “If he makes it through the next few days, then they think he’ll have a chance, but that’s a big if, Owen. There was so much damage. His organs weren’t functioning properly, he has a head wound from when he was first taken that never really healed right, and his leg… It had become infected where his kidnappers cut it; they had to take some more in surgery to stop it from spreading any further.”

He tears his eyes from TK to meet Owen’s gaze, almost wishing he hadn’t when he sees his own pain and grief reflected back at him. “It’s bad, Owen,” he chokes out. “I don’t know… I don’t know what I’ll do if…”

He shakes his head, the words sticking in his throat. Not that he really needs to say them; they’re both thinking the same thing.

“The doctors probably told you, but they’re restricting visitors to two until he’s more stable,” Carlos continues, eyes dropping back to the bed. “I know the team will want to see him, but do you think you can hold them off for a while? Just for a couple of days, until we know more. I don’t want to keep them from him, but I just…” He trails off, guilt welling up in him even though he knows this is what’s best. “I know it’s a selfish thing to ask, but I think it’s for the best, for everyone.”

“I understand,” Owen says gently. “I’ll let them know. And… I’ll do my best to prepare them, for when they do come and visit.”

Carlos nods his thanks and the two lapse into silence, broken only by the hiss of the ventilator and the beeping of the heart monitor. Proof that TK’s still with them, but each noise sends another bolt of pain through Carlos’s heart.

He squeezes his eyes shut, finally allowing the tears to fall down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Owen,” he sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

Owen gasps. “What for?”

“I was supposed to protect him! This was my case, I’m the reason he got taken, the reason he might not make it. He could still die, and it’s all my fault!”

Carlos drops his head into his hands, chest heaving from the force of his sobbing. Distantly, he hears the scrape of a chair on linoleum, then Owen’s hands are on his shoulders, turning him into an embrace. Carlos falls into him, not caring about the almost childlike way he clings to his father-in-law.

“You found him, Carlos,” Owen whispers, rubbing circles on Carlos’s back. “You found him. Any chance he has at making it through is because of you. That’s what matters now; it’s the only thing that matters.”

*

It’s several more weeks before Carlos’s prayers are finally answered.

TK was declared stable some time ago, the doctors saying that, barring any unexpected complications, they should expect him to wake up. They hadn’t said anything about what the damage might be once he did wake, but Carlos hadn’t wanted to ask; at this point, he can’t focus on more than one thing at a time, else he knows he’ll fall apart.

He’s practically lived at the hospital since they brought TK in. He’s pretty sure Owen, his parents, and the 126 came up with a rota for making sure he wasn’t starving himself, because it was always someone different who attempted to pull him away from TK’s room for food or sleep in an actual bed. Carlos resisted as much as he thought he could get away with, but he’s not stupid. He knows he needs to keep his strength up if he’s going to be of any use once TK wakes up.

It happens early one morning, when the sun is just beginning to filter through the blinds. Carlos is already awake, keeping a vigilant watch over his husband, though he doesn’t quite believe it when TK’s eyelid twitches.

He holds his breath, waiting, and, just when he’s given it up as a trick of exhaustion, it happens again, both of his eyes cracking open this time.

“TK?” he breathes, half-rising from his chair. He reaches out and grabs TK’s hand, which moves - actually moves - in his, and tears spring to his eyes.

It takes a few more minutes before something like awareness creeps into TK’s face, his eyes fully opening for the first time in weeks. Carlos just sobs at the sight, drawing TK’s attention to him, at which point his expression turns to shock and disbelief.

TK’s mouth moves, but he can’t force out any words, causing panic to flash over his face and his breathing picks up. Carlos leans forward, squeezing his hand and stroking his cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says softly, reassuring him. “You’re okay, I promise, everything’s going to be okay. You’re in the hospital. I’m here, and you’re safe. God, TK, I swear I’m never going to let anything happen to you ever again, I swear it.”

TK shakes his head, still not understanding, so Carlos reaches to press the call button. He forces a smile for TK’s sake, though his mind is crowded with worries about what their next steps will be. It’s going to be a long time before they can even think about going home, he knows this, but everything is so uncertain now.

Carlos wants to believe that there can be some sort of normality in their future, but, right now, it seems like a distant dream.

*

Time passes.

He brings TK home.

It’s hard, so much harder than he thought, but they have a whole team of people willing to help out as much as they can. Paul and Grace often bring food, usually stopping to talk for a while afterwards. The others - most often Marjan and Judd - sometimes come by and take TK out in his wheelchair for a while, giving Carlos time and space to relax or tidy. Letting TK out of his sight was difficult at first, and he still gets anxious watching him disappear out the door, but he knows that the 126 would do anything to keep him safe.

He just has to trust them, which he does, implicitly so. 

Owen’s also a frequent visitor to their house, staying overnight a time or two in the beginning. Carlos is grateful for it; he doesn’t know how he would have coped if not for Owen’s steady presence while they were still figuring out their new reality.

TK struggles a lot, even with simple things these days. The head wound caused brain damage, leading to migraines and he has problems with speech and carrying out tasks. It breaks Carlos’s heart to see him, but he forces himself to keep up a front, only letting the emotion out when he’s alone - or, rarely, with one of the 126.

He suspects TK knows anyway, but they don’t talk about it.

It’s a long few months of recovery, of pain and exhaustion and frustration. But it’s all worth it, because it means that TK is alive. It means that Carlos has him back, and they can work on getting better together.

It means that, one golden morning, Carlos wakes up to see TK’s beautiful green eyes already open, watching him intently. He reaches out to caress TK’s cheek, then leans in and presses a gentle kiss to his lips, lingering for a long moment.

And, when he pulls back, TK smiles.

And it feels like everything is going to be okay.

[tsuumu]

saw that requests were open and😳😳 how ab fluffy best to lovers with iwaizumi or suga? like they are best friends and seem to always be touching each other in some way like hand on waist or knees touching etc. and confession happens and maybe... just maybe... kiss... if this doesnt fickle your pickle or you feel uncomfortable then feel free to ignore! your writing is great thank you for considering🥺🥺

hi anon, thank you so much for requesting! i’ve been doing requests when i feel like them (apparently 4:28am is the perfect time to start drafting this in my mind) so i apologise for how late it is!

i’ve also decided to split this into two parts, the first being sugawara and the second iwaizumi! i love rambling about cute conventional plotlines like this so there was no way both wouldn’t be excessively long put together.

part two will be linked here when i get round to it!

enjoy!

y’know, people actually do wonder if the two of you are somehow joined to one another in some bizarre manner. it’s practically impossible to see either of you away from the other for an extended period of time. and it’s not creepy, or weird. it’s ridiculously wholesome. they only enquire because both you and koushi take that classic ‘best friend’ trope to a whole other level. 

it’s sweet. sickeningly so. 

we’re talking after-school dates at the prettiest little cafe just off the side of the main road. it’s barely a ten minute walk, not that you’d notice seeing as the time is filled with consistent, care-free conversations between the two of you. koushi practically begs you to come with him whenever you’re free. you’ve both dubbed it your super secret spot, since other students don’t come so often or probably even know it’s there. his teammates ask him from time to time, where exactly the two of you go. it’s usually because you’re chortling amongst yourselves about some passage of prior conversation, or beaming unanimously over the sheer deliciousness of the pastries there, made fresh. 

but koushi never tells. oh no. he wants it to be ‘our spot’ as he likes to call it. you think he’s just being funny and poke his arm whenever he mentions it, agreeing jokingly that he’s not allowed to take anybody else there but you. 

you needn’t worry, he wouldn’t dream of it. 

he’s always early when you do go, waiting for you by the school gates. and it’s crazy, the wave of comfort that washes over you the second you lay your eyes on the boy, it’s something you can’t experience with just anybody. 

you have had your fears when it comes to finishing your third year, since your sights are set on finding employment deep in the heart of tokyo, koushi on the other hand, prefers the domesticity of the urban life. he’s perfectly at home where he stands. and you love that for him, you want him to be happy, truly, but the thought of having to bid the boy farewell seems incomprehensible. like you’ve offended yourself for even contemplating the prospect.

no, you’ve never actually brought up the subject with him. it’s a little early and all too much to say out loud. plus, what if you do and he’s completely nonchalant about it? you’re practically dreading the months as they pass, wondering if sheer luck will allow your friendship to continue with such potency whilst he’s totally oblivious and dismissive when you do get round to it! oh, god. you hate it. you hate that you’re overthinking the entire thing.

you know you’re short circuiting over something so pointless, trains exist, you’ll have the funds and means of transportation... but is it? losing someone who fills your day up is like losing part of yourself. you can already imagine what it’d be like alone, going to other bistros and constantly comparing them to that one. and how lonely you’ll be. how desperate to tell him everything that happens to you. how work goes, if you’re feeling homesick. you know he’ll call you often because he cares too much not to, which you’re thankful for, but it’s not the same. he won’t be here, he won’t be there to touch you like he does now, to keep you safe.

a gulp later and you’re totally fixated on the warmth koushi emits. you’d be grieving without it.

“lost?” a light brush of your forehead rids you of your thoughts. 

“hm?”

he’s lightly plucking at the strands of hair hovering above you, focusing briefly. there’s a small speck of dust that’s been caught. after a few unsuccessful attempts, he manages to get it out. 

well he mutters that he’s unsuccessful, but really, he’s finding inconspicuous excuses to feel how soft your hair is against the back of his palm.

“lost you for a second there.” he replies, before shifting back, blowing the dust from his fingertip. “everything okay?”

you feel so regretful daydreaming about him in front of his face, and it’s not even that, it’s the fact you’re with him right now, right this moment. you know that time is slipping and yet you’re wasting it mulling over pessimistic thoughts of the future. 

“mm. i’m alright, sorry. thank you, by the way.”

“don’t thank me.” he picks up the dainty little cup and you study the floral patterns carefully, you recognize this one. well, you’re familiar with most of them now. if one would ever end up breaking, you’d probably know, since they’re so unique in their respective decorations and there’s only a few. koushi is extra careful with it, free hand slotted under the base of the cup. it’s elegant. he’s pretty when he drinks. 

actually, you were thinking about all of that because he’d brought up graduation, his match with against shiratorizawa had gone down splendidly, no doubt even he was shocked they’d made it to nationals. koushi had often lamented to you about being karasuno’s substitute setter, though he admires kageyama plenty and knows what was best for the team. he’s awfully good at putting others first, even if he really wants to play. that’s what you’d concluded. soon after nationals, comes the end of the academic year. too soon, way too soon.

that awful feeling rises up again. 

his hands stretch across the table, gently engulfing yours, and it’s lovely, really, how comfortable you are with one another. how instantly calming he is. 

“you’ll come to watch us play, right?”

“i always come, silly. i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

you’ve never seen him so happy.

the evening he rushed to you straight out of the coach, breathless, telling you they’d won. it was like he was able to shine even brighter than he already did. and for a moment, you looked at him—really looked— and you wished you could’ve captured that moment, in all its glory, forever.

koushi. too good to be real, aren’t you?

you are listening, you swear to god you are. everything he says processes but realisation is eating you alive. you don’t think you can live without him. oh, you sound so flimsy, so pitiful and maybe you are. destably so. you’re too selfish for your own good.

but he’s still holding onto you, still careful with his grasp, but with the way his thumb skirts ever so gently across the ridge of your hand, he has no intentions of letting go just yet. you don’t want him to. you’d like to stay like this a while longer.

but it’s late and he’s exhausted from practice, especially now he’s doing twice the amount for nationals. he insists that even if he isn’t on the main roster, he’ll be needed. a team needs absolutely everybody to function properly.

so when he pays for you yet again, chair scraping slightly on the wooden planks of flooring to leave, your heart is caught in your throat, drenched in feeling like it’s the last time you’ll ever see him.

of course you follow him out, politely thanking the old lady who runs the cafe on your way. his feet are planted just steps away from the entrance, gaze to the sky, a flurry of darkness and escaping slithers of light. of course he’s smiling. 

part of you wants to hit his arm, ask him how he could possibly be relaxed, stretching his arms lime that when you’re on the verge of losing it. but he hasn’t looked at you yet. when he does, he’ll know. 

it doesn’t vanish, that affability that accompanies his grin, even when a look of concern is etched all over his face. it’s still so radiant. koushi doesn’t know how to be unkind. but he knows how to blind you. 

“why are you crying?” 

there he is again, thumb smearing at the tears that’ve barely slipped. you’re crying without realising. you were fine moments ago but now you’re sobbing so hard it’s difficult to breathe out. there’s nothing empty about it, they’re infuriatingly real, like you’ve already lost him. like he’s walked down the road, waved to you one last time and died. 

suddenly there’s a million things you want to say to him, and another three years won’t be near enough to get them all out. 

it’ll be too hard to explain over text, or call, too late too.

“ko-oushi..” you tremble out, and he knows you won’t be able to explain. he’s okay with that. just forgive yourself for now and he’ll walk you home. you don’t like to cry. you cry a lot but it never gets easier. he doesn’t mind, though. he likes how big your heart is, even if you insist it’s awful. what does worry him, though, is that someday someone might mistake it for weakness. you don’t deserve to know what true heartbreak feels like.

 so, his hand’s in yours, consoling you like one would a child, always dabbing at those tears and telling you things will be alright. koushi knows that you’ll tell him when you’re ready, especially if it’s something that’s upset you this much. 

“i don’t want to graduate.” is all you think to come up with, which is a blatant lie. you do want to. all you do is talk about how much you do, but you don’t want to graduate from him.

his response is a little tentative at first.

 “why?”

“because.. i’ll go away. i’ll go far away and i’ll miss you.”

he’s deathly quiet, it’s terrifying.

“and if i miss you i’ll keep missing you until i can’t stand it anymore, koushi.” you ramble on, utterly humiliated that you’re confessing just how deep your dependency on him is. but you can’t stop. you don’t have time to. “i hate life. i hate that i can’t see a future without you. i don’t want to drag you back or control you in any way but god, i think i need you.”

you’re not quite sure what this is. is this.. a heated tangent, a sob-fest to a confidante, a guilt-ridden confession from an obsessive maniac? you hadn’t actually thought about what you wanted or would gain from telling him all this. perhaps it’d been bottled too long, longer than you were conscious of and this was the only resort left to release it. he’ll probably end up hating you by the time you’re done strangling out the last few words, deem you insane and ask you to seek some sort of professional help, knowing him, he’d help you find it.

it doesn’t matter. you’re talking and talking and talking, tripping unattractively over phrases and you have no intentions of stopping. not even to breathe, not like you have been anyway. you can’t even look at him whilst you parade yourself like this.

that’s alright with him. he really loves the sound of your voice. 

he’s listening. he swears to god he is, but all he can think about is how happy you’ve made him. how he’d never leave you lonely.

but how could he ever convince you? unlike you, koushi isn’t the best with words. he’ll nod for hours and hours as you pour your heart out over something, and still come up empty. really, he doesn’t know what he wants either. he has ideas of the next few years, but he hasn’t even addressed the fact you’d be absent in all of it. you don’t know it, but he’s so used to you he’s practically filled you into his future automatically.

still, you’re talking, not too sure what you’re even saying anymore. and neither does he if he’s completely honest, but he’s too fond of you to mention it.

but he does it. he places his hand on the nape of your neck and kisses you.

he promises it’s not to be rude, or because he’s not interested in whatever it is you’re trying to say. but because he’s wanted to do this for ages. would it be overly dramatic to say the first time he lay his eyes on you? maybe. it wouldn’t be too far from the truth.

oh, god. he’s really kissing you.

he’s sweet tasting and nothing like you could’ve ever imagined. and believe you, you’d thought about it quite a bit. the way he’d feel against you. you’d never admit to anybody that you’d fantasied about this, feeling his tongue flutter over the seam of your mouth, hands dipping gently into the flesh of you as he tightens his hold on your waist.

why couldn’t you have accepted earlier you were fucking head over heels for him?

and of course he likes you back! he calls you his! he takes you on dates and touches you and has eyes for only you. how thick were you?

it’s alright.

at least you’ve gotten there eventually.

though a few months too late, you’re kissing him in the middle of your hometown, and he’s whispering against your lips that you won’t be losing him anytime soon.