#okay im gonna go take a final now wish me luck

[cdroloisms]

Can you tell us about an in-depth analysis of whatever part of the JHAM au you choose? I crave any and all content for this au.

Yeahahaha okay,, I don't think we've gone very in-depth on the j!Dream and j!Sam side of what happens during Wilbur's Revival, so! Gonna throw some thoughts at the wall here.

Here's a post outlining the event in question--essentially, Tommy and Quackity visit the prison to try and Get To The Bottom Of Things, and it goes very. Uh. Very wrong, to say the least. Ghostbur gets revived, the "Fuck Sam Squad" gets formed in earnest outside the prison, and this all leads to the eventual prison break plot that allows Dream to escape.

At the time though, inside the cell, j!Sam has been very, very keenly aware that a year ago? A timeline ago? On this very day, Quackity had been making daily visits. With less interference and fewer variables to account for, his note-taking has improved even more this time around. Notes of what he remembers from the first time he had to do all of this, notes of what questions he asks and what answers Dream gave, what dispensers + programs have been turned on and off when and what instructions he'd left behind the last time he visited, documents of injuries and food and water and sleep and illness. When March 16th comes and goes without Quackity entering the prison, when Dream behaves, it's a victory, isn't it? This time, there will be no outside interference. This time, he's learned.

All of this to say, when it comes to the days where Quackity had been visiting, Sam is uncomfortably conscious of this fact. He's got it jotted down, not that he needs to. His memories are more than good enough. Remembering, the time travel--in a lot of ways, it's a lot like the prison. The isolation is the same, the responsibility. He is the one that has to fix things. He is the one that has to bear this burden, alone. These bloody recollections form a cell of his own, a prison inside the Vault that has become his home.

In some ways, for these days that had been so, so different the first time around, it is easier to be kinder. In less time, with less pain, he has gotten better results. He knows more than he had, that first time around. He's no longer backed into some corner with no idea how to move forward. Look, he's made things better--there have been no visitors and the secrets they may keep (the secrets they may carry outside the prison's walls), no one else to get locked down inside, no guards skulking behind his back and betraying his instruction, no Quackity to cede any measure of control. He's not been forced on the opposite side of the lava curtain, listening in on his own cell and unable to intervene. He's found a brighter path to walk. A better way for them all.

Other days, he feels considerably less generous. Dream's concessions grate at him. The submission feels less like progress and more like meaningless fear. He has no idea how much Sam has done for him. No idea of how bad things were, how bad things could still be. He remembers the way Dream begged, he remembers the platitudes and whimpering and sir, and he remembers how it was all a show. How it never meant anything (except for how it meant Dream would never fear Sam the way he did Quackity, eclipsed authority and yet the complicated disdain and careful distance he had to keep between himself and such unfettered sadism-), how Dream is treating them like they're one and the same when Sam is nothing like Quackity. This entire time, he's proved this thoroughly, and yet Dream still directs that same nauseous terror his way, and--Dream has done nothing to earn Sam's mercy! Sam was the one that made this timeline better, Sam was the one that has prevented Dream from tricking the visitors and tricking him and killing Tommy and reviving Wilbur. If given the chance, Dream would do the same, right here right now. He would make that choice in a heartbeat. If it wasn't for Sam fixing things, Dream would've pulled this second timeline to hell without hesitation. Sam has made everything better for him and he has the gall to forget that first timeline, to forget him to treat him like Quackity? He has no idea how good he has it. He's gotten off easy, while doing absolutely nothing to earn Sam's mercy.

Sometimes, he looks at Dream collapsed after another round of harming or weakness or poison or whatever, and he feels irritated--worse, he feels angry. Sam knows exactly so much Dream can endure. He's not dying. These dramatics are pointless. What is he hoping to earn? Sam is forced to remember everything that Quackity had done, that Dream had done, that Dream had forced him to do, and Dream has been spared. Sam has spared him from horrors he had begged him again and again and again to end, that first time around, and he can't even remember to be grateful. Sometimes, he thinks about bringing in an axe and sword and shears and showing Dream exactly why he should be thankful. (The ensuing nausea also has Dream to blame. He is the reason why Sam has to bear this burden.)

And then Dream revives Wilbur.

And it's proof, right? Dream hasn't changed. Dream is the same as he's always been. He would've ruined this timeline just like he did the last. It is only Sam that has saved Tommy's life and Ponk's arm and Dream again and again and again. He isn't innocent. He's still done all those awful things to Tommy, he's told Sam all about exile again (told him more, even, than he did the first time around), he's still planned to lock Tommy in the prison, he's still bragged about and done so much to- to torture him. Just because he hasn't killed Tommy in this timeline doesn't mean he wouldn't, if given an opportunity. He basically still has Tommy's blood on his hands.

Unlike the anniversary of Tommy's death and the TNT, everything surrounding this incident really revolves around Quackity and particularly Sam's very messy feelings surrounding Quackity and what Quackity did and what he's done, the differences between them and the way Dream reacts (and a very hefty measure of insecurity from Sam on several fronts). After hauling Tommy out of the prison, Sam returns to Dream on the ground, shaking, begging for his life. In a lot of ways, this makes him even angrier. What could Dream have possibly been hoping to accomplish? It was a meaningless rebellion--last time, he'd been trying to bargain about Quackity. What does he have to complain about! Using the very book he's refused, even now, to give up. Sam has been treating him well. Using the dispensers less, only for Dream to spit on his mercy. Once again force him to that edge where he has no choice but to act. Quackity's blood stains the walls. Screams echo in his ears. And Dream is begging for his life?

Doesn't he know how much Sam has done for him? Doesn't he have any idea how good he's had it? Sam has done everything to keep him alive. Sam has lost everything for this prison. Doesn't he know that Sam has already lost him twice--once to his escape, and once to the time travel. He's begging Sam not to kill him, and he has no idea.

This is his fault. This is on him. He doesn't get to beg, he doesn't get to ask Sam to give him more. He's forced both of them to this point. He doesn't get to cry about it. He doesn't get to try and claim control, again. He won't die. Sam could take a hand, an arm, a leg, an eye. He knows what Dream can endure. He will take what he is given silently. He will accept whatever Sam decides is appropriately measured out. He’s rebelled, he’s tried to escape, he’s done everything that Sam has clearly outlined as being against the rules. He doesn't remember, fine. Sam will give him something to remember. He doesn't get off scot-free this time. Sam will have to come back to clean off the blood in the cell anyway, won't he?

This isn't revenge, this is justice. This is deserved. And he'll keep going until Dream finally understands and stays silent.

[transgaysex]

im about to go to sleep but everybody needs to wish me good luck i have 3 whole finals this week

[tenjikufag]

hi,, it ifs okay I’d like to be your 🍮 anon! im just wondering if you’d be interested in writing a gojo x male reader? Soft angst to fluff please!

Everything is Temporary.

Gojo Satoru x male reader

-angst (dunno what soft angst is or if this fits), end fluff, no cws

-a/n hello 🍮 anon thank you for the req.

Nothing lasts forever.

Temporary is all there is.

Sure, some things last longer, a class is longer, interactions can be super long, lines can be long, shows, songs, you get it. Things can last awhile

But sometimes lives are longer than others. Just as the others start, another one finishes. Except there’s no clock, no time stamp to see how long you’re here for, how long you have left.

You could only wish that you were fortunate enough to live what was deemed a long life.

But, here you found yourself enrolled in a Jujutsu Society run schooling.. and it’s been all but drilled into your head that things don’t last, not even people.

This occupation that you’d been forced into from birth wasn’t forgiving and was erratic on a good day.

Death announcements were just as common as saying hello to someone in a day.

That’s why it’s so hard to want relationships, to want friendships. But, you could atleast say you *had* friends.

Getou Suguru, although not the most friendly he cared for people.

Shoko Ieiri, blunt and honest. But again, she cared.

And finally

Gojo Satoru.. a loud, criminally annoying smart ass.

He knew he was stronger than everyone, he knew we could only keep up and never beat him. But through this obvious facade of his, you and your friends saw right through him. He wasn’t one to scare for himself, but he worried for you, his friends.

But especially you.

You’d think it would be flattering; but it only came off as condescending and making you feel lesser than the two others in your group..

“I’m just sayin! I’m there to protect ya!”

“I don’t need protecting Satoru! That’s the whole point! Let me go!”

His grip on your uniform was tight, it made your skin feel hot at the close proximity.

Satoru had been trying to stick himself to your hip for this next mission, it was an S Grade. The four of you had been warned immensely beforehand and were told when to retreat if it came to.

Your friend never wanted you to go on these.

He’d never admit that he was deathly afraid of losing you, afraid of watching you die.

“Ugh, I know I can’t stop ya but at-least let me take you out on a date beforehand! Who knows what’s gonna happen!”

There it was. The teasing. The teasing that Gojo had become infamous for.. you never believed a word he said, apparently he says it to everyone so why would it be different for you? Besides, he wasn’t into guys much less you.

“Stop saying shit you don’t mean! It’s rude and makes you look like a jackass!”

Stomping away from him, you didn’t even look back to see the pathetic pout he had..

-

“Yknow Y/n..”

Suguru sat beside you, slouched over his knees and watching the cars pass by

“Satoru doesn’t tease anyone like he does you.. not anymore at least..”

Furrowing your brows, crushed juice box in hand you whipped around to berate your friend

“So he’s got to you now? He doesn’t mean it, I know he doesn’t! Don’t you try-“

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Y/n. Especially not about this stuff..”

You felt deflated, even if it was true.. you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t be in a relationship, not with the life you lived currently.

It was a guarantee that one of you would die, hell you’d be one of the lucky ones to see 25! You’ve had classmates die since you’ve been here, both upper and lower class men!

Why would you entertain it?

Why would you subject yourself to such loss?

“Well, he’s shit outta luck. I don’t even know why I have friends.. my parents told me I shouldn’t have any, they made me promise that I wouldn’t get married aswell..”

“You won’t get married, not that quickly.”

Suguru chuckled, you smacked him upside the head.

“You know what I mean, Suguru.. I don’t think I.. I don’t think I should accept it..”

“So you like him too?”

Your heartbeat picked up, discomfort in the way it made your breathe unstable.. you liked him, didn’t you? A pang in your chest thrummed, guilt for this started festering in your stomach. Why? Why did this have to happen? It was the one rule!

“I’m gonna head back.. make sure to let him down easy..”

Suguru softly smiled at you, clicking his phone closed and stuffing it in his pocket..

—

“You got him admitting it?! Give it! Suguru! Hand it over!”

“Ah! Get off! You’re gonna break my damn phone!”

The two males wrestled to the floor, well more so Satoru tackling his friend down with no real need.. he was gonna get it, he was just impatient.

Phone in hand he sat on his friends back, keeping him down, and pressed play.

The conversation played out, his cheeks heating up at the sound of your voice.. he felt giddy, waiting for the confession.

You confessed you liked him, but then came your rant about friends and relationships.. it broke his heart admittedly but he’s a stubborn guy..

“Hey! Why’d you tell him to let me down easy?! Some friend you are!”

Suguru groaned under the male, shoving him off finally.

“I’m realistic, that’s why. I’m not gonna push him to do something he doesn’t believe in. And you shouldn’t either.”

Satoru chewed his lip, he knew Suguru was right but if the world ended today, he’d want to know that he was yours, and you were his..

“I’m asking him out again. Before the mission!”

Satoru ran out of his dorm, leaving his friend to roll his eyes.. he really hoped it worked out. It was a pain to be the in between because Shoko didn’t like entertaining the two of you.

—

Your mission was a day away. You sat under a tree enjoying the breeze that flowed over your skin and through your hair. This was peace you hadn’t had the opportunity to enjoy in awhile.

And yet again, it was temporary.

The call from your white haired friend cut through the peaceful aura of the area and suddenly the breeze felt like a nuisance- your hair getting in your face and suddenly becoming paranoid of bugs that laid in the dirt.

“Yo! Y/n! I needa talk to you!”

Glancing up, your friend stood above you with a gleaming smile. Sighing, you stood up to follow him to wherever he needed to take you.. but he didn’t take you anywhere but instead held your head between his hands..

“I like you, Y/n.”

It felt like drums were in to ears, your breathe was caught in your throat.. without thinking about it you raised your hand

You slapped him.

He yelped, going to catch your arms before you continued to hit him.

“Don’t say that! Don’t tell me that shit! You know how it makes me feel!”

Anger bubbled over, you screamed at him while thrashing to free your arms.

“Y/n! Calm down! I mean it! With everything I have I mean it!”

You paused, catching your breathe. The way he looked at you made everything hurt, guilt built up again.

“You.. you shouldn’t like me. I can’t.. I can’t be with you.”

“But you can! I promise-“

“You can’t promise anything Satoru! Even if I could be with you, one of us will die and leave the other all alone! It’s not fair, I can’t do that!”

He loosened his grip on you, replacing it with a soft hug. The white hair tickled your ear, feeling him bury his face into your shoulder.

“If you don’t take the chance, how can I say I loved you for my whole life? If I die, how could you say you loved me?”

The ball in your throat kept you from speaking, you felt stiff in his arms.

“I can’t promise forever, I know that.. but I can promise I’ll be there for as long as I can. Just let me try and make it to forever with you..”

He hugged you tighter, telling you of all the sweet, small things he could offer to you if you let him.

“You believe everything is temporary, but I swear I’ll love you for eternity.. please. Give me the chance to show you for as long as I can..”

The breathe you held finally let go, allowing the stiffness in your body melt away- melding your body to his in a tight embrace.

“Okay.. I’ll give it a chance..”

He perked up, moving his face right infront of yours.

“Really?! You’ll be my boyfriend?!”

Your eyebrow twitched.. his cheeky smile on full display

“Is that not just what that was..”

“Cmon!! Ask me! I want it to be official!”

Why is he like this…

“You’re so annoying..

Will you be my-“

His lips smashed onto yours, arms wrapped around your neck. He continued to leave pecks on them, saying ‘yes’ inbetween every single one.

“I’m your boyfriend, you gotta deal with me~ aren’t you so lucky~?”

He sing-songed, bouncing lightly on his toes.

You were taking a chance on this…?

Satoru didn’t wait for you to finish or start saying anything before starting to drag you towards your friends to share the good news.

If temporary took you to end of your life, it wouldn’t be so bad with him and your friends there.. you guessed.

[zoropookie]

sm yn in chapter 13

im not gonna lie rn, your writing is actually so gut wrenching and heart aching and toe curling and all that/pos i want to inhale it ITS SO GOOD YOUR ANGST MAKES ME WANT TO BE BETTER BECAUSE EUGHK!!!!! KAZUHA FLASHBACKS IM DYING POOR YN IS HALLUCINATING OMG

i love you lots zoropookie/p 🫶🫶🫶 thank you for serving us good ass food i eat up your updates everytime like im a starved dog

i hope you're having a good day!!!! im guessing your teeth feels better now? if not them jus know im silently wishing some of these clinics finally get a change of heart and take you in 😭😭 i hope you feel better about yourself too!!! take care, get some rest, hydrate, eat good, and best of luck with everything ^^^^

that photo restored my health immediately, thank you for reading it lol i hope it was up to standard i feel like i've been losing my quality

my teeth are feeling okay, just hoping and praying that i don't have another mishap lmao i hope schools going well for you! please stay healthy :)

[quodekash]

GUESS WHO'S BACK

finally time to finish the last fifteen minutes (and one second) of our skyy 2

based on my current track record, itll take about an hour to get through those 15 minutes but its fine, im prepared

or maybe im not prepared. im so scared

hey that rhymed!

okay. stop stalling. time to actually watch it.

holy hell wish me luck

i still dont know how i feel about them

i actually dont remember them much

i think they were really controlling?

WAIT THATS RIGHT I HATE THEM

his dad SUCKS, and his mum said that the only way she would let him become a teacher is if he went to freaking america

why america

COME TO AUSTRALIA INSTEAD

the amount of times that people in thai bls have gone to freaking america instead of australia is astounding

WE ACTUALLY HAVE A GOOD EDUCATION SYSTEM

well... its not necessarily good.

buT ITS BETTER THAN FREAKING AMERICA

WE HAVE GUN LAWS

WE HAVE SYSTEMS AND STUFF THAT ARE MORE SIMILAR TO THAILAND THAN AMERICA

WE'RE CLOSER GEOGRAPHICALLY, AND WE'RE SUPER MULTICULTURAL, PARTICULARLY WHEN IT COMES TO ASIAN COMMUNITIES, SO (i think) YOU'RE STATISTICALLY MORE LIKELY TO FIND PEOPLE WHO KNOW YOUR BIRTH LANGUAGE THAN YOU WILL IF YOU GO TO FREAKING AMERICA

i could rant about this all day but ive only been watching for 30 seconds and its been 12 minutes already so im gonna keep watching

WHAT ARE YOU DOING

DONT APOLOGISE TO THOSE BITCHES

oh. they like him?

hmm...

well i still dont like them

EEEEE

HIS SMILEEEE

HE LOVES HIS HUSBANDDDD

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

dude your eyes are so bloodshot. have you slept??

you should sleep my guy

and no, having sex with your super-mega-foxy-awesome-hot boyfriend does not count as sleep

(pls tell me someone got that reference)

let's be real, that's a really good looking cake

i rly wanna eat it

i want cake now

why is she nodding

are they about to give their approval for marriage?

pls let phuphatian get married

pls let there be a special episode where they get married

i dont want this to be the end of them

i love them too much to say goodbye

it feels a lot like a marriage approval thing

but also... does he love tian the most? or is the one thing he loves most like. his nose hair plucker or something.

ARE THEY GETTING MARRIED OR NOT, IM STILL CONFUSED

i have a question

have they spoken to tian about this? i still dont really understand what theyre talking about, but have they spoken to tian about it?

also: where the hell is tian right now

nooooo

bye bye tul :(

i love you tul

marriage????? maybe???????? im still not sure

okay, okay, okay, so he's turned around, he's not facing phu right now, and when he turns around, phu's gonna be on one knee???? maybe????

DID I NOT JUST

OH MY GOSH

HOLY MCFLIPPING BAJOOLIES

THEYRE ACTUALLY DOING IT???

HE'S TEARING UP

SO AM I

AND SO IS TIAN

I AM SOBBING PROFUSELY

HE DID THE HAND KISS

HE DID THE FREAKING HAND KISS

I AM NOT OKAY

AAAAAAAAAAAA

he interlocked their fingers.

he interlocked their freaking fingers.

GOEJRBSDGOVJKLBERSODUFGJK;LBVERD

GFIU43EWJGKBOPUVWEBRS

I ALWAYS SAY THEYRE HUSBANDS

BUT NOW THEY CAN ACTUALLY BE HUSBANDS

wait

frick

gay marriage still isnt legal in thailand

well... i mean they can technically get married in another country

they should get married in australia

and invite me to the wedding

NO

WAIT

FLASHBACKS???

STOP

STOP IT

I DIDNT SIGN UP FOR THIS

I DIDNT SIGN UP FOR FLASHBACKS

NOOOO IM GONNA CRY AGAIN

its gotten to the point where im sobbing about how short he is

NOOO IS THAT IT???

OH HELL YES TY P'AOF FOR ALWAYS HAVING AN END CREDITS SCENE THING

AWWWW HE'S CONTINUING THE STORY ONLINEEE

they gonna fu-

<3

also we got to see yod again!!

i love them all so much

well. that's the end of me. i am dead.

phutian are officially husbands, and im gonna go cry for the rest of the year

[dark-nymph3t]

Hey Libby!!! It's been awhile! Just wanted to check on you and make sure you are doing okay and such! How have you been feeling lately? /gen I heard you have purple 💜 hair now!! Im sure you look just fine and really cool with purple hair!! Random but for some reason I always imagine you looking like the person in your icon for some reason idk why 😅 just a funny thought.

Winter break is coming up for me soon and so are finals 😭 luckily I only need to take one final exam and that's for my chemistry class so uh wish me luck lmao, I'm going to be very busy for these few weeks so hopefully once I start winter break I'll finally have lots of free time to chat and interact with all of my mutuals! 💕

Anyways I hope you have been doing fine right now and such, remember to always take care of yourself and to take it easy, remember to drink water and I wish you a lovely day Libby!!! <3333

CLOVER ITS SO GOOD TO HEAR FROM YOU AHHHHHHHHHH

Eh, could be better tbh, but granted when you have a week long mental breakdown that results in you dyeing your hair purple it could always be better lmao. I did get a free chocolate croissant one day tho which was awesome! Oh I wish I looked like Liv Tyler she’s so gorgeous, but I don’t look anything like her lmao

Dude same here I’m so stressed out for finals ahhhhhhhh. ONLY ONE FINAL IM SO JEALOUS YOU LUCKY DUCK I’m stressing out over all of mine it’s not gonna be fun. Hey you got this, I believe in you, even if you don’t do as well as you think you can do I will be proud of you no matter what because you tried.

THANK YOU FOR REMINDING ME TO DRINK WATER IVE BEEN NEGLECTING THAT FOR THE PAST WEEK

Take care of yourself Clover, you’re awesome

[batstorm93672]

Im not sure if your taking in anymore request but if you are I think a fic where Damian has a bunch of events going on and his family not showing up to any and Damian saying doesn't care when he does and on Damian's last event Bruce is being batman and he thinks he can make it but he never does and Damian ends up getting kidnapped and wanting money from Bruce in 24 hr or else they'll kill Damian and Damian is drugged or something and can't fight.

School events are dumb. Even though Damian thinks that... a part of him wished at least one person of the large ass family would show up. Yet no one has. Maybe no one wants to.

Okay, listen, Damian was trying to think, maybe their busy or maybe their on their way. But two hours of waiting, and no one showed up. This isn't the first time. No, it's been like this for four days of school events, and Damian participated for most to show his family he made progress, yet no one is here! He swore to himself he doesn't care, but he's weak... and he does. Damian is waiting. It's the last event of the week. Bruce promised he would show up. Where is he? "Damian, is your father showing up?" "Yes. He will." The teacher nods and compliments his work before moving on. The hours pass, and Damian sighs. It's over, and Bruce never showed. Damian walks out of the school, and then everything swiftly goes dark.

Damian wakes up, it's dark around, and he's so... tired. Why is he tired? Damian looks around, there's a few people around in another room, and he can hear them. A light brightens and someone steps out.

"Waking up already?"

"Who the hell..?"

"Don't worry about me, you should be more concerned for yourself. We already sent your precious father what we want. If he doesn't get it for us, then you die."

"Tt. Good luck... when I break out of here... I'll fight you all."

"Seems the drugs are really getting into your head."

"You guys... suck I'm gonna make you regret this."

"You can have fun trying to think up a way of doing that for the next 24 hours. Enjoy Wayne."

Damian scowls and groans loudly. Whatever they used on him is doing its job. His senses feel useless here. "This is boring! You guys suck!"

No response. Cowards.

"Fucking hate this."

...

Damian overheard a bit. They're giving Bruce 24 hours... and now the 22-hour mark has just hit. Two more hours, and they keep coming in and drugging Damian again. He tried being annoying to wear them out or something. Not even "being a brat," as Jason might say, is working.

Then something explodes, the door opens, and lo and behold, it's Batman.

"Finally... I was getting bored, do you really not care that much for me?"

"What do you mean?"

"The entire week has been events held at my school and... you didn't show up for even one! Plus, you promised you would show for this one, but you didn't."

"I'm sorry... I was so busy I thought I could make it. Maybe... we can take a moment, just us, and you can tell me about everything you've done in full detail?"

"...promise?"

"I promise."

[willowwrestles]

Never had Willow felt more nervous and excited than she had been as she sat in the front seat of Jamie's car. Surrounded by the girls that loved her, Willow was better than she had been in weeks. Finally, this would all be over in a matter of minutes.

The life that she desperately misses is going right back to normal. She just had to do this quick little thing. She needed to get the drop on Rex Lawless. He's manipulated and toyed with her long enough. Now, it was Willow's turn and she had back up.

"Could we run through the plan again?" Roxanne asks. "Okay, so im gonna go in there, in fifteen minutes I'm gonna send you girls the signal, you guys come in, we kick his ass, and then leave. Megan and Jamie you're gonna help me, Roxanne you stay in the car and be the getaways driver, Kim and Skye I'm going to need to comfort after all this. Be prepared."  Willow breaks it down.

"Got it." Roxanne nods. Willow nods in response watching all the girls nod in agreement. "Alright. I'm going in. Wish me luck girls." Willow warns before opening up the front door of the car.

She grabs her purse and walks to Rex apartment. It was game time.

Fear over takes Willow's body as she finally makes into Rex's building. She couldn't give up now. She had come too far now to stop. Willow makes it to his door and knocks. Within seconds, Lawless opens sporting a proud grin.

"Well hello there. Don't you look nice." He compliments. It was strange to hear him sound like a decent human being. "Thank you." Willow replies nervously. "Come in and make yourself at home. I want you as comfortable as possible tonight." He invited.

Willow nodded and walked inside the apartment. "Can I get you anything?" He asks as Willow has a seat on his couch. "Do you have any wine?" She asks. "You're gonna have water. You need to be present." Lawless corrected her. "No, I'm gonna have wine." Willow fought him back.

It was silly to fight him over wine but she needed to buy just a few more minutes before she told him what she knew. "You don't. I know you've forgotten what it's like to be with a respectable person.  You're not drinking." Lawless shook his head.

That lit a match in Willow. "Respectable person?" She snapped. "Yeah. Not like Price basically." He shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with Alec." Willow defended. Lawless stares at her dumbfounded. "Yes there is. He's aggressive, he thinks he's better than everybody, he's an ass, and let's face it he's not the sharpest tool in the shed." He lists off.

Every last one of them raising Willow's ire. "A lot better than you." She shot back. "Oh? And how's he better than me?" He asked. Willow cocks her head to the side with narrow eyes. "Well for starters he's never forced me into a showmance over a signature." Willow reminded.

"Right but you were his side piece." Lawless noted as Willow's continues to rise. "I was but you know what? That turned into a real relationship. With a house, a dog, and a future. Another way Alec is better than you is he's never choked me out and left unconscious for a hour." Willow is almost at her tipping point.

"Would you get over that? I said I was sorry." He shrugs, turning his back to go grab water. "No I will not get over that because yeah you said sorry but that was after you pretended like nothing happened." Willow scoffs disgustedly.

"I just think you were being overdramatic. It wasn't that bad." Lawless shook his head. Willow was five seconds shy of losing her cool. "Yes it was. Add that plus all the lectures when I would do something you didn't like." She reminds.

"Sorry I made you act like a lady." Lawless rolled his eyes. This causes Willow to snap up from the couch. "A lady? I don't need you of all people telling me how to act like a lady. You don't pay me, you're not fucking me, and you didn't raise me. You have no right to tell me how to act." Her voices raises.

She's tried so hard to keep her composure but she can't anymore. "Yet your parents have no problem with me doing it. Now if you don't have anything else to say, why don't you be a good girl and we can get this started." He offers.

Willow's eyes widen at this idiotic display. She's about to answer before remembering she's got an ace in the hole. "Actually I do have something to say." Willow smirks. Lawless's face shriveled in confusion. "What?" He asks.

"Did you really think I wasn't gonna find out that you signed the papers so ready?" She grills. Confusion turns blank. "What are you talking about?" He shakes his head as if Willow was crazy. "The final check papers. Darlene called and told me I can pick the check up tomorrow." Willow explains as she takes a step closer to him.

"She's lying." He tries to say. "What does she have to lie about, Rex?" Willow asks. "She just wants a sale." He shrugs. "Let it go, Lawless. It's over. You are done making me feel powerless. And this is over." Willow growls, her voice overflowing with finality.

She grabs her phone and send out the signal to Megan and Jamie. The room is quiet as Lawless seems to be searching for what to say. Guess words weren't enough because next thing Willow knew Lawless grabbed her by the back of her dress and slammed her against the wall.

"You motherfucker." Willow groans, her back arching in pain. Lawless has his hands on her shoulders. "This isn't over until I say it's over you little fucking whore. You've played with me long enough. You think your bastard hood rat of a-" He's cut off as a cracking sound is heard from behind him.

Willow looks up seeing Jamie holding a chair and Megan holding a bat. She was saved. "Thank God." She sighs as she gets off the wall, still in pain.

[haeroniel-doliet]

So the drawings ive been tinkering on for... Almost exactly 2 months now, are getting a little more finished again! More update under the cut so i dont clog anyones dash :')

(i did start making a third piece that ties my whole idea together and that is being the biggest menace, despite me slightly slightly constantly trying to finish the first two to like any standard im happy with lmao)

So yay on some progress! Boo on that i desperately need to make more progress on real life stuff and im worried i wont have these actually done till november. Two posts a year kinda high speed artist here! And i did/do wanna do something or multiple little things at least for dinluke positivity thing in november! I wanna do a fun community thing! But everything i make takes forever bc im never happy with it and i got a lot else i should be doing. How do people do this?

Ok no but like im writing this publicly just bc i sort of wanna give an update and also bemoan the third piece :') the sketch so far is... Okay, the faces are good enough but the rest is so unfinished/unclean. Last two times i tried fixing it i just made it way worse so tonight i thought fuck it and put down the flat colours right. Turns out that just highlights how unfinished my linework was! So really im just debating. Do i go back and try my damndest to make good lineart for it, or do i take a page out of my adult art class and just actually more paint it in? Like screw the lineart im just gonna spend a long time tinkering with the colours for shadows and highlights and shape this out that way. It won't perfectly match the other two, but the faces have lineart and who really pays much attention to the other details??

Oh and i have still a mission set to make backgrounds for these. Yes im planning to trace over a google image of highschool lockers and not much else but thats still probably at least a nights work for me that im not hype for haha. They look good on plain background but i wanna at least see if the background could help make them feel more finished. Yknow? Make it worth it that ive been sitting on them for 2 months already

Its fine, its all fine, im gonna make the phonecalls i need to tomorrow and do other good admin things, then i can try to either start carving out the third piece in a painting style (back up plan if i hate it is to backpedal and do the lineart better, or make it over the top of it) and if thats going miserably ill just try and make the backgrounds yknow?? Ill make progress this weekend, maybe ill even say fuck it and post it without it being totally close to perfect (not super likely but imagine the relief of getting it out here finally??) So stay tuned and wish me luck!!

[c0smiccom3t]

Ryonna Tag team racing quotes part 2!

Missions [Costume] - "Could you get one for me too? If i wanna show off im a master of stealth business, i want to look like i am that, too!" - "Yeah i'm sure it won't be too big when you put in on, sir." - "AGAIN, BRAT-ICOOT?!" - "This is getting us nowhere. Sir, perhaps would it be better if i went to fetched those things myself?" - "Oh-kay..." - "JUST GET ON WITH IT, OR YOU'RE GONNA SAY HI TO STARGAZER, TOO!" - "Finally." - "Yeah, keep it for yourself, you deserved it." [Mission 1] - "Yeah, could you? That'd really pay off and your sister would be impressed, if you ask me." - "Good luck! ...and make it quick." - "Master, calm down!! Maybe he just needed some clues to where that set is! ...Please hurry before he has another tantrum, he skipped his beauty sleep today." [nervous laugh] - "Yeah, you don't want to be known as 'the worst big brother in the world' now, do you?" - "We told you, brat-icoot, just BRING THAT GEAR!" - "Congrats, you played yourself. Hope you enjoy your demise! See you on the race track! Heheheheh, sucker." [Mission 2] - "Dont you mean 'weapon of mass de-- OW!" - "Okay, okay, you're right, sir!" - "That'd be so helpful, indeed! ...No pun intended, by the way. Now get moving!" - "Yeah, come back to us once you did get those crystals, bucko!" - "Yeah. Things take time. But honestly, you got to hurry. so get a move on!" - "These gamers are such a predictable bother nowadays, it's exhausting really." - "See you there, brat-icoot. C'mon m'lord, let's show him!" [When Cortex is interacting with Crash] - "Sir, he doesn't play with train tra--... F-forget what I said." - "Ooo-hohohoho! This is gonna be fun to watch, sorry brat-icoot.... not!" - "Oh and please. be careful with that. I heard wood chippers are a little... Spiky." *deep giggles* - "Not as good as when i hit the gym though. I got THAT superstrenght, baby! ...Though the actual egocentrist here is my boss, anyway." - "Yes, now how about you get lo-- I mean... explore around and have a good time?" - "I'm telling you sir, maybe you should get your mind off him with a nice, delicious churro-- OH HI BRAT-ICOOT, WHATS UP!" - "Get lost twerp, we're busy!" - "Yeah, it's best served cold too. Or is it served hot...? Whatever." - "Ugh, you Brat-icoots are so annoying... Just let us have some peace, for my boss' sake!" [When interacting with Crash] "What do you want, Brat-icoot? Im trying to reflect on my life's mistakes here." "You may ask... How did I become Cortex's racing partner...? Well uh.. It's a funny story. But i think it was after i asked you if i could join you since i didn't have a car and Von Clutch says I 'Can't drive vell'. The nerve!" "God, i hate my life-- Oh, Crash! Didn't see you there! Now get lost before I PUNT YOU!" "I wish Dingodile was in this game... Ooh! Maybe he's in the crowd?? I bet he loves the way i roll..." [sighs dreamily] "Huh? ...AGHH!! FORGET WHAT I SAID, BRAT-ICOOT!" "Yes sir, i got it, foot massage at half-past thirty right after dinner, and bedtime storytime at 9 o'clock sharp, noted. Later." [Hungs up the phone and then Notices crash infront of her] "Uhh... You heard nothing. I was just having a chitchat on the phone." "Crash, I know i'm not supposed to say this. But thank god my boss isn't here so... Keep this between us for a minute before he finds out..." [Inhale] "He sucks his thumb in his sleep and apparently when stressed he uses my tail as a security blankie while HE STILL HAS HIS OWN IN HIS POCKET! Even though sometimes it's in the wash... There, just keep this between us. And his snoring, UGH! Okay... I said too much. Go on with your little tralala trip now." "Don't mind me, i'm just getting churros for me, Nina, N. Gin and the boss. You know just because i'm a villain, that doesn't mean i dont share my food with my coworker, godchild and partner in crime." "Oh Crash, I need your help. Boss left his stuffed bear in those gears. Mind getting it for me before he goes on a tantrum during bedtime?" "Go away before i punch you through your skull, brat-icoot. I'm really busy here."

[ddejavvu]

hi babes im literally so anxious that school is starting and i need some kind of comfort

can you do eddie helping r out of a panic attack or just helping them with their anxiety <33

i'm sorry you're anxious about school, honey! i wish you the best of luck, i'm always here if you need to talk, and i hope this helps!

--

The stance that Eddie finds you in already has his heart picking up speed, your hands bunched in your blankets as your knees draw to your chest like magnets. Your breathing is staccato, rapidfire puffs of not-enough air entering and escaping your lungs all too fast.

He doesn't know which is worse, the hand clawing at your calf, or the one that's itching at your neck. Both are leaving marks, and he rushes for the closest first, the one on your leg.

"Hey!" He's sure that doesn't help, but he can't figure out a better way to announce his presence. He grips your hand as you jolt tugging it hurriedly away from your leg and wincing when it draws blood as your nails rip off of your skin.

"Fuck," He dabs away the surface level scrape, his white shirt now dotted with crimson, "Babe, babe, let go."

He reaches for your other hand, trying a calmer approach this time. He's upset that panic is now infesting him, he berates himself for not being the strong one, but you're hurting and he doesn't know how to help you, and he's panicking.

He lays his hand out over yours, feeling a tremble wrack through your frame, "Let go, sweetheart, hold my hand instead."

You do, and Eddie takes it as a sign that you're still somewhat coherent. That maybe you're not gone, maybe you just need help finding your way back. He feels your fingers tighten around his and nods encouragingly even though you can't see him, "Yeah, there 'ya go. Squeeze, baby, get it all out."

He's absolutely certain his fingers will ache tomorrow, but he doesn't care. He lets you mutilate his hand, because it's better than mutilating your neck. Sobs pour out of you like rainfall, quiet one second and striking the next, and he sees your teeth dig unforgivingly into your plush bottom lip.

"No more," He urges, guiding your first hand to the one that's clasped in his own and using his now-free hand to tug your lip out from under your teeth, "C'mon baby, you're gonna cut it open."

You're no longer able to muffle your sobs by biting your lips and Eddie finds them even more heart-wrenching at full-volume. He tugs you sideways into his chest, you're bent at an awkward angle, but you can hear his heartbeat, and that's all that matters.

Maybe it's your newfound stress toy in Eddie's fingers, or maybe it's the soft thumping of his heart in his chest, or maybe it's his voice humming you familiar tunes that vibrate through his chest and send ripples of calm through your own, but you're coming back. Your breathing is clearer, your sobs aren't as frequent, and your fingers are starting to loosen up on his hands.

Finally your cries turn to sniffles, your shaking to an occasional quiver, and you let your hands go limp in Eddie's grasp.

"Hey there," He breathes shakily, his voice thick with emotion, "You okay, baby?"

"I'm sorry," Are the first words out of your mouth, and they only twist the knife in Eddie's heart, "I didn't mean for you to see that. And- and I probably hurt your hand, I'm really sorry, Eddie."

"Don't apologize." He insists, his brown eyes glistening with unshed tears, "That's- that's not something to apologize for. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." You offer lamely, wiping at your tears, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He parrots, "You're not."

"You're not either." You frown at his mangled fingers, "Do you want ice?"

"No," He shakes his head, lacing his with yours, "No, just talk to me. I wanna- I wanna know what happened."

"Nothing happened." You mumble, "Not yet."

Eddie cocks his head to the side, waiting for an explanation.

"I just- I'm really anxious." You admit, the word coming out chewy and strained, "I.. sometimes I don't know how to shut my brain off."

"Drugs." He grumbles, and it gets a laugh out of you. He relaxes an inch.

"It's hard." You continue, face dropping from the chuckle, "Sometimes it's a little too hard."

"Yeah." He nods, blinking his tears away when you squeeze his hand, lighter this time, "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"I.. I really am sorry, Eddie." You repeat, and his eyes snap to yours, ready to fight, "Just-! Just listen," You beg, and he nods once.

"I don't.. I try not to do that in front of people. It's- well, I know it's not a comforting sight. I'm sorry for scaring you, but thank you for.. for staying. And helping."

"I'm glad you scared me," He admits, a glossy sheen over his pretty doe eyes as his nose burns red, "Ignoring scary things doesn't make them go away. I wanna face the scary things, I- I wanna fight 'em. With you."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He smiles weakly at you, leaning forwards to nuzzle his nose with yours. It's intimate, sweet and tender, and it nearly resurfaces your tears.

"'Gonna beat its ass." He adds, after a moment of too-good-to-be-true silence from him, "Stupid fuckin' anxiety."

"It's in my head," You laugh, "You're gonna hit me in the head?"

He reconsiders, brows furrowed. Then he grabs your face, tilting it so that he's speaking directly into your ear, definitely a bit too loud.

"Hey, you in there! He-lloooo," He taps a fingertip on your temple, "Anxiety? Get the fuck outta my baby!"

You giggle at his antics, "Eddie-"

"'Can't see anything in there," He cuts you off, turning from your ear to your face, peering into your eyes, but past them somehow, "No, not there, maybe-?" He lifts your chin, peers intently up your nose, "Shit, not there either. How about-?" Then he's popping your mouth open, peering around while you giggle lamely under his touch.

"Fuck." He concludes, "Can't find it. Wherever it is, though, I'm ready." He holds up a threatening fist, "Not gonna let that little shit hurt you anymore, sweetheart."

[nctsworld]

two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k 

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection  GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff  WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap! 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.    

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.  

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.  

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.  

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:  

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”  

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.  

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.  

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.  

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?  

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...  

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.  

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.  

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.  

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.  

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.  

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.  

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”  

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.  

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...  

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.  

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.  

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”  

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.  

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.  

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.  

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.    

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.  

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone  off to one side.  

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?  

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.  

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.  

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.  

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.  

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.  

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.  

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.  

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.” 

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.  

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.  

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.  

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.  

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.    

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.  

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.  

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.  

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.  

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.    

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.  

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.  

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.  

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.  

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.  

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.    

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.  

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.  

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.  

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.  

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.  

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.  

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.  

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.  

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.  

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.  

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly. 

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.  

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.  

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—  

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.  

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.  

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.  

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.  

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.  

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”    

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.  

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

[quodekash]

its 1pm and im finally well-rested enough to watch last nights episode of abaab, wish me luck (im rly excited for more threezo pls gimme more threezo) 

im eating a pomegranate while watching so my commentary may be slightly limited 

NOOO CHER WHY ARE YOU SAD ITS GONNA MAKE ME SAD 

i just accidentally sprayed pomegranate juice everywhere 

this is my first time eating a pomegranate and im sitting on my bed 

i have a towel on top of me just in case and im glad i have it 

otherwise my funky hufflepuff blanket would look like a crime scene rn 

anyway back to the show 

awh :[ 

comforting kiss 

im gonna cry 

“its not a company owner and an intern. its just you and me.” GHEIBRHGERH THATS SO PERFECT and also makes me feel better cos i was still feeling a little weird about the power imbalance/age gap so yay 

THEY HUG

NO, BC YOU WONT BREAK UP 

THIS IS THE HAPPIEST FLUFFIEST SHOW, I WILL NOT ALLOW IT 

JACK, YOU AND YOUR PERFECT HAIR, HELLO 

THREEZO 

LOOK AT ZO’S LITTLE HEART JUMPER

I WANT IT 

THE ARM THE HAND ON THE ARM LOOK AT THEM AAAAAAATYFYTUUVJ (ft jacks perfect hair on the left) 

OMG

THATS AMAZING 

IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU JACK 

GJERKDGBKRHEBGKJREBJGRE 

ah shoot 

wait hang on 

what the hell 

ive been wondering whats in that folder since day one

ohhhh okay its a groupchat 

props to that one person for saying its none of your business 

yOU HAVE ONE OF THOSE?? 

i nearly dropped my pomegranate 

why was i surprised to learn he has a mother 

a lot of people have mothers 

thats exactly what she said, isnt it? 

bc theyre actually in a drama 

its gonna cut to a scene of her saying exactly that 

damn i was wrong 

thERE’S A HUG QUOTA??? 

damn then i guess im going to jail 

my hands are covered in pomegranate juice this feels like a murder 

hey, does pomegranate juice wash off? 

MY BOY AND HIS EYEBROWS 

HAH, SUCKS TO BE YOU (checks notes) oregano? 

i do love that and that’s very sweet, but bro needs his coffee 

already at two kisses and were not even halfway through the episode. if only tinngun could live up to their standard. 

(this is mostly a joke, im just really salty because tinngun COULD have kissed SIXTY-SEVEN FREAKING TIMES and they DIDNT and no i will not shut up about this i spent way too long combing through the show counting every single time they didnt kiss to not mention it every single time any characters kiss. shameless self promo here)

no wait hang on what the hell 

WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN??? 

“drunk or not, i love you” i see now why that line was significant 

and also the slight breakup foreshadowing earlier 

i understand it now 

they wont break up tho bc (i pull out a sword) i will not allow it 

(just kidding) 

(i dont have a sword) 

(if i did have one tho i would absolutely take it out of its sheath right at that moment) 

FRIENDSHIP COMFORT TIME 

YAY FRIENDSHIP 

they make me happy 

HIS PERFECT HAIR 

I LOVE THEM ALL SO MUCH GFYTDFYTFCUTVJHV

oh yay we get some tub time!! i cant wait to learn more about him so that i can pick him apart and do a character autopsy on him to find out how he works! 

is he speaking from experience? tub, what do you have going on in life? what have you gone through? tell me all about it :] 📝📝

is it texas chicken or is it kfc? 

MY BOYS 

IM GONNA CRY THEYRE SO FREAKING CUTE 

ilysm three 

RIGHT????? he gets it 

THREEZOOOOOO

i love them so much

NOOOOOO

CHE??? 

something good better happen 

(eret son of eret voice) is tha’ who i fink i’ is? 

it might not be 

if anyone knows who plays this man, pls lemme know 

NOOOOOOO NOT THE GAMEBOY 

OH IT GOT WORSE 

sir do you have the technical skills for this 

i know hes the head of a game developing company thing but the actual physical insides of a gameboy are an entirely different thing, right? 

i was waiting for the thoop situation to come up again 

the MOOD that this is-

i have finished my pomegranate and can confirm that the juice does in fact come off of human skin, which is nice bc i looked like id murdered someone 

👀

and how are you gonna do that, gun? 

idk man, i reckon id appreciate you as my big bro 

yayyy that was really good, a little bitter at times but really sweet overall. 7/10, would try again 

oh and the episode was also really good 

huge lack of threezo tho 

theyd better make up for it next week 

still good tho 

bye bye everyone! have a good day!! 

[f1-mverstappen]

Ocean eyes Chapter lll

Chapter 3

Pov off

Two weeks pass in a hush. They've met a couple of times to get to know each other better. Max's summer break was now over so it was now time to go to the first race after the break. He and y/n decided she would meet him only on Sunday since she had to work. And that's what she did.

Y/N pov

I arrived at Belgium 🇧🇪 earlier in the morning because the race started at 3pm and I still had to find a way to get there. Now I regret not accepting max's helicopter to take me there. But it is what it is. After a long train and a bus ride I finally arrived.

On my way to the circuit I started to think about Charles and the fact that I haven't told him anything about me and Max. I felt bad. What will he think when he sees me, he knows I never come to races. Well I decided to invent something when time came. I'm so stupid sometimes.

I arrived at the circuit and enter to the paddock and headed straight to the redbull garage. My eyes met his and he instantly smiled and come to me.

"Hello beautiful, I'm glad you arrived in time I thought you were lost" he said laughing and mocking me. He then gave me a kiss on the cheek way to close to my mouth. And smile.

"Well...that's not very far from reality" I laughed "after some challenging train and bus rides I'm here" she laughed.

"Yeah gladly. So I'm giving you these headphones and you can stay in the garage or you can be upstairs in the balcony. What do you want.?

"I rather be upstairs so I can see the start and more important the finish" i blinked at him.

"Yeah I'm starting p14 but I'm winning this for you I promise. Anyway when you want you just follow the stairs to the balcony and you'll get there. You can eat, drink. Whatever you like." He said to me.

He came even closer to me and pulled one of my hair that was falling to my face and said "have fun baby, we will celebrate tonight" and give me another promising kiss on the cheek. I blush and smiled.

"Well first I'm gonna meet Charles and wish him good luck" I said

"Okay you do that, anything you need just ask"

"Okay thank you max.

I left the building and went to search my friend Charles in the Ferrari garage and I did and he saw me and he immediately give me a question look and came to me.

"Y/N!! What are you doing here" he hugged me he continued not letting me talk " I'm so happy you came to surprise me!! I could've arrange things you just need to tell me first" he said very fast but still with a questioning look to me.

Omg, im so screwed. How am I gonna break the news to my friend. I mean we've been best friends for so long and I never visit him at his races, not even Monaco one's and I just came to watch his opponents. I mean me and max were just getting to know eachother. I'm such a great friend.

"Hey Charles, well.. actually someone else invite me to come to the race I decided to. Hope you don't get mad.

"Who was it!?" He said curious. I looked at him not sure if I should tell me. I mean me and max were nothing yet. "Who was it y/n? What are you hidding from me?"

"Well, it was your friend Max" I said, and he gave me that Charles look the typical I don't know any max. "Which Max, we don't have any Max friend in common"

"Don't be dumb Charles, Max Verstappen"

He looked surprised at me

"Why did Max invite? Oh that day in cafe, I thought you left little monkey" he smiled

"Well we've talking but not anything else" I said wanting to end the subject right away.

"Sure, already coming to races tells me otherwise" he squizze my cheek in a cute way.

"Stop it Charles, we're nothing I'm telling you" I said in a serious tone.

"Okay but promise me if something happens tell me. I want you to be happy more than anything" he said in a bother tone "and Max is actually a very nice guy. Everyone portraits him as a bad boy but he is very cool guy, very focus, and very lovely" he said.

"That I can agree he's been very kind to me" I said blushing. He laughed because of my embarrass. I gave him a little punch on the arm

"Ouch are you trying to injure me? Already helping your "friend" Max" he said pretending to be offended. I laughed "of course not you're still my favourite boy"

"Sure let's see when will it last" he said laughing

"You're so mean Charles" I laughed too

"Anyway I have to go y/n, the race will start in a couple of minutes"

I gave him a last hug and wish him good luck.

I went straight to the redbull balcony to get ready to the start of the race.

Max pov

As I sat in my car the first thing on my mind today. How the fuck am I gonna win this race starting from p14? Sure it was not impossible but it should be hard I mean I'm not racing alone.

I had to win it anyway. I don't break my promise.

Lights out and it begin. I quickly overcome a lot of drivers to be in the lead of the GP in lap 12. Well I thought it would be harder but as there was a lot of drivers who had penaltis like me I was lucky but kinda of a badass too. I controlled the race has I wanted no one had the pace to come near and I end up with a 18 second from my colleague Perez who was second. I see the checkered flag and I've made it P1! Everyone congratulated over the radio but what I couldn't wait was to see her.

I parked the car in "parc fermee" on the number 1 position and jumped into the team. Everyone was incredibly happy with the 1-2. Everything went on very quickly the ceremony of the podium, but still no sign of her. I started to think she got so bored of my job that left. What a great start.

As I enter my driver room I see her sitting in the couch. I instantly hug her. She hugged me back very tight.

"Congratulations Max, what a race!!" She smiled very happily to me

"Thank you, I did it for you sweetheart" she blushed

"I waved a little when you were on the podium but I guess you didn't saw me" she smiled

"You were there? No I actually thought you left for being so bored" I laughed

"How could I be bored when someone just won a race for me? Starting P14?, you're incredible Max" she said with her eyes focused on mine.

"Well I just happen to be an amazing driver 🤩 " he said joking but truthfully because he knows he's awesome.

"Ahaha so humble verstappen" she said mocking me

"You like me liked that don't deny it" i smirked at her

"Hmm I'll think about it"

I wrapped my arms around her waist and our faces were almost touching. She was absolutely beautiful. I made my way to her mouth in a soft kiss full of emotions and feelings. Our kiss quickly became very fast and anxious I seated in the sofa and put her on my lap as things were starting to get a bit intense. Our tongues danced in this perfect way that seemed to be made for eachother. We stopped the kiss in the need for air. And she look straight to my eyes almost as she could see my soul. And then she continued the kiss. As things were getting very very hot I decided to stop. I wanted her very badly but not like this. Not in my racing suit and definitely not here. When I stopped she gave me an questioning look and I said "Not here baby, im taking you somewhere to celebrate".

She laughed and said "I thought you were rejecting me already"

"I would be the dumbest guy on earth if I did that" I said more to me than to her

"You say that like I'm the most beautiful girl on planet earth" she said being sarcastic

"Well you could be" I said smiling

She laughed even harder "You're such a bad liar Verstappen"

"I don't lie princess" I winked at her "sure you don't.

I take a shower and put on my normal clothes.

"Should we go lady" I ask her.

"Sure, where to?" She asked with curiosity

"First we will fly to Maastricht by helicopter and then I'm taking you somewhere special which you will see when we get there.

"Never been to Maastricht I'm sure I'm gonna love it Max you're incredible" she smiles sincerely

As we arrived to Maastricht we quickly travel to the centre of the city near the Meuse river. And that is where I'm gonna suprise her. We got out of the car next to this incredible historic vintage boat that I rent for us to spend the night and day before going back to Monaco.

"Well tonight it's all about celebration I hope you like y/n” I said

"I'm sure I'm gonna love it Max" she said smiling

We enter the boat and put our things in a small but comfy bedroom downstairs. I made prepare a dinner with a very fancy whine illuminated by thousands of candles. Everything looked incredible.

We sat to the table and I serve her the wine first.

"I think we should toast to your victory" she proposed

"Yeah I agreed, but we should toast to new beginnings as well" she smiled knowing I was referring to her.

We toast. Eyes liked to each other. It was magic I never felt this with anyone before.

"So what's the reason for taking me to Maastricht?" She asked

"Well it has a very special place in my heart I used to come here as a kid with my mom, dad and sister when I has on holidays from karting. So I wanted our first get away to be special" she give me that glorious smile that I love to see.

"Well it is a lovely place, irradiates peace I can see why you like it"

"Yeah my sister lives here with her boyfriend and two boys" I said proudly

"You're an uncle??" She asked surprised

"Yeah my two fav boys in the world Lio and Luka. They're the cutest. The older one Luka is equal to me" I showed her a photo of the boys.

She smiled in a different way kinda maternal way. I loved it. She loved children she will be a great mother. "They are so cute omg, I can't see baby's I'm literally drawling" her eyes smile.

"Yeah you will meet them soon"

"I hope they like me" she said "how could they not, your the most caring girl I know

"Well I work with kids for a reason, I believe you have to be very passionate to be a paediatrician , they don't know the things adults do. So you have to adapt yourself to them. So they can understand what is going on." I listen to her carefully

"You're going to be a incredible mother"

"I hope so, but I have fears like everyone else, everything is linear in books. When you get to the real situation everything is different but that's life I guess"

"Yeah that is true" I agreed with her

"Before I have kids I would like to open an free healthcare for children in need, we've been doing some research about that but you know, it's not easy when you want to do ir for free. Sponsors are hard to find when you can provide them return money" How can I not like her even more? She's an amazing human being.

"Well you can count on me to help you just tell me a number and I will send it." I said wanting to help her

"Thank max, but it's a long way till we get there"

"Yes but you can count on me sweetie" I smiled and she returned.

The rest of the night went just fine we talked hours even lay on the outdoor beds on the boat drinking the rest of the wine and we take the opportunity to make out a little outside till we get so could that we decided to go to the bedroom.

Once we got there hugged her from behind and start spreading kisses through out her neck. She reacted immediately to my touch and o felt her body coming closer to mine. I decided to tease her a little and whisper "you like to be touched like this don't you baby girl" still behind her but my hands her softy passing through all her body as I continue to deliver kisses in her neck. She let out a soft moan. She turned to me and we started to kiss in a very passionate way. I started to lift up her dress and took the piece from her body. She was stunning in this black lace lingerie. She then started to take away my clothes aswell. My hand were all over her body massaging every part of it. I passed my mouth through her nipple and suck it slowly as my hands were already rubbing her clit. She was so ready for me, so wet. Gosh this girl is insane. Even though I was penetrating her with two fingers she was stroking my dick really slowly which was driving me insane, so I took her panties way and penetrate her with my cock without hesitation. We were on this intense rhythm that we felt we could explode. She was moaning so loud that I'm pretty sure the caption could hear everything. I felt her tightening around my dick and I could see she was cumming and so increase the rythem and she screamed in pleasure as I cum at the same time. We both lay down next to eachother feeling exhausted and catching or breath.

Y/n pov

Omg what had just happen. I turned to max who was still breathing heavily. But turned to me and smiled.

"That was intense" he said breaking the ice

"Yeah it's been so long that I almost felt what it was like" I stated and laughed he accompanied me. He started to stroke my hair with his fingers

"Well you're incredible Jo, and I'm glad it's been long since other guys touch you, I don't even wanna think about it" he said in a jealous tone.

"You have nothing to worry about champ." He smiled. I know he likes to be recognised by his tittle. I mean and he should be fought very hard to get it.

Chapter lll it is. Hope you like it. Please let me know.

If you want to read with the original name girl reader it’s also available on Wattpad.

Kiss kiss 😘

[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!

[ask-a-vetblr]

Hi! I’m a vet student entering clinics soon, and I have 2 main concerns: 1) academically I’ve been a good student, but I’m worried that my “book” knowledge isn’t going to transfer to practical real life situations - I’ve heard a lot of stories of students who were good academically but hopeless in clinics; 2) I know I’ll be getting critiqued by doctors, and I know I need it in order to become a good doctor myself, but I don’t know how to keep it from crushing me emotionally (beating myself up because I’m not perfect, or being horribly anxious that I’m still not going to know right from wrong once I’m in practice and I end up hurting my patients). Any advice?

Sueanoi here,

You are a student.

Everyone in your year are students.

No one is going to be perfect the first time.

No one is perfect the first hecking YEAR.

You're gonna be just fine. The entire point of going into clinic training is to TRAIN you to use those knowledge that you have as a huge amount of jigsaw in your head and finally able to put them together into a readable picture. You'll learn how to set up a thought algorithm in your head on how to follow clues to its final answer.

Everyone will struggle. Everyone including you. and it's okay.

You're there to learn. If you're already perfect then you won't need to learn that station anymore now do you?

Do not be afraid to admit that you don't know something. Be up front to your supervisor. You can even ask them to confirm your thought. This will still be a normal thing even after you graduate. Asking for consult from a specialist is very normal to do in this career. So this is also a training to get you used to asking for help as well.

It's always ok to ask for help.

Some supervisor will have a ...less kind... style of teaching. Don't let it go to your head. This is a practice that I myself do not agree with (im always kind to my vetlings). Take only what's useful. Leave the insults behind in that consultation room. Promise them you will correct it, and give them the answer you couldn't recall right now in the next day.

That would impress them.

You will struggle a lot.

but you will struggle less often as time go by.

and you will learn how to learn, and it will get easier.

I wish you luck.