#urban bean coffee

[dokyeomini]

had a very nice and boring bday

[a-cosmic-latte]

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 1 - eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

i am so excited for you guys to finally meet the eren that has been haunting my dreams for the last few weeks lol.

specific cws for this chapter: drug use/mentions, alcohol use, a wee pinch of smut (fantasizing specifically), swearing, floch being the actual worst

“Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?” - As You Like It by William Shakespeare (Act III, Scene 5)

You take advantage of the short ride to your fourth-floor apartment to release your heavy tote bag from your shoulder, wincing as it crashes against the elevator floor. The little boom makes your head pound, and you rub your eyes hard enough to see stars, trying to suppress a frustrated groan. It’s week six of the semester, midterm week, and as an undergraduate professor, you’re feeling the pressure as much as your students.

You’re feeling the pressure twofold; you may have thirty-five midterm essays to grade, but you also have four to write for your Master’s program, absolutely none of which you’ve started. You’ve called Eldia University home for the last six years, and while the library is essentially a second apartment to you at this point, the four thirteen-hour days you’ve pulled there just this week are starting to take a toll on your sanity.

The front door of your apartment looks like an oasis in a desert, and your knees nearly buckle when you crack the door and the scent of home hits your nose.

“That you?” Historia’s voice reaches your ears, floating from living room.

“Yeah,” you call back, placing your keys on the little decorative key holder Historia bought junior year, slumping with relief when you abandon your tote by the door. You’re burnt out, but Historia has lived with you for almost four years now; being around her is as good as being alone. You scrounge around in the fridge for a well-earned beer, popping it open and rounding the corner to join her in the living room. To your surprise, she isn’t alone.

“Stor?” Your initial reaction is confusion, quickly elevating to alarm when the man sitting across from Historia turns his body to you, giving you a glimpse of several baggies full of pills. Your cute, hand-painted coffee table is currently covered in drugs.

Historia smiles sheepishly. “My professors fucking hate me. Just a little study aid.”

You nod slowly, the panic dissipating in your chest– so she hasn’t fully gone off the deep end. You’ve both used Adderall to get this far along in your academic careers, not liberally, but desperate times and all that.

Now that the source of the pills is sorted, you draw your attention to the unfamiliar man looking laughably huge in comparison to the little Urban Outfitters bean bag he’s perched on. He’s lifted his face to look at you now, eyes none-too-subtly flicking down to where your tits are being pushed together by your crossed arms. Scummy, you think, but oddly enough, you don’t mind. He’s hot, like where-do-they-even-make-guys-like-you hot, deep brown hair pulled into a messy bun and brooding, bloodshot eyes scanning you up and down. The side of his pouty mouth quirks up.

“Hi,” you state awkwardly, offering your name. You’ve partied, sure, but you’ve never been into the druggie scene, never gotten the hang of interacting with these guys that possess the nonchalant confidence that only drug dealers can tout.

“Eren.” The name fits him well, simple but unique. His voice is deeper than you expected, a low rumble. He shuffles through the pill baggies he’s brought with him. “Want anything? I have 40 and 60 milligram Adderalls and Vyvanse, some extended release…”

“I’m clocked out for the day,” you tip your beer bottle at him meaningfully. Eren’s smile grows at your little quip.

“Thought I’d ask while I’m here.”

“Thanks,” you say, unsure of what to do with yourself now. You settle for plopping down beside Historia on the couch, sipping your beer quietly as you watch the little transaction take place on your coffee table. You’re not involved, not after the obligatory introductions, but he’s piqued your interest. You listen as he walks Historia through what she’s purchased, how many, and how much it will cost.

When Historia leaves to grab her wallet, he turns his gaze towards you. “Grad school?”

You’re surprised; he’s so casual, borderline bored, with the way he carries himself that you hadn’t expected idle conversation from him. “Yeah, I teach a couple undergraduate classes, too.”

“That’s a lot,” Eren looks impressed, “you must be pretty smart, then.”

“Pretty broke, you mean. I get a huge discount on my tuition if I teach while I take classes,” you explain. Eren nods along, a curious glint in his green eyes. It strikes you that he’s not just hot, he’s actually pretty, in a grungy, bad-boy sort of way. Historia returns with a beer for herself and her money, snapping you out of your private realization and whatever strange tension has begun to build across the coffee table.

You find yourself admiring his large hands, taking note of the little sparrow tattoo nestled on the back of his hand behind his thumb, watching intently as he counts Historia’s cash. Your stomach twists in a way it hasn’t in a very long time as he bids you goodbye. Oh boy.

“I take this as a sign that we’re going out tonight?” Historia gestures to both of your beers. You’re a little shaken from the last five minutes, blinking slowly as your Shakespeare-saturated brain works through what she’s said.

“I mean, I wasn’t going to go out out, but I could definitely blow off some steam.”

“Thank god you said that,” Historia sighs dramatically, flopping back into her seat beside you and taking a long swig out of her bottle, “Ymir’s going home this weekend, and I’d look like such a sad sack if I went and sat at Scout’s by myself.”

You chuckle, thinking fondly of the grimey dive bar you’ve both developed an affinity for. “That would be pretty pathetic, but I’m happy to be of service. Scout’s it is.”

“Should we text Sasha?” Historia starts rattling on about what she wants to wear– something cute, but not too cute, but not trying not to look cute– and your tired mind drifts back to…Eren, oddly enough. You want to think into why he asked if you were in school, why he looked at you like you were a puzzle he couldn’t put together, but you were as realistic as you were imaginative. Sure, Eren didn’t exactly seem the type to make small talk, but you’d known him for all of five seconds. And maybe that wasn’t a look, maybe it was just…his face? You’re out of ideas, mulling it over when Historia snaps her fingers in front of your face.

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?”

You sigh, busted. “Nope. Not one word.”

“Are you seriously that braindead from the library? And here I was thinking you got home early today,” Historia shakes her head pityingly.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, and before you can stop yourself: “How do you know that Eren guy?”

“I was going to ask how you didn’t know Eren,” Historia says, eyes widening incredulously, “who was your dealer in college?”

You grimace. “Floch.”

“Figures,” Historia rolls her eyes with a visible shudder, “I still don’t know why you ever–”

“Stor, focus,” you reroute her before that unfortunate conversation can be rehashed, “Eren?”

“I think he sold Ymir and me some molly at a party sophomore year– no, wait, maybe junior?” Historia shrugs. “I don’t really know, actually. He’s just one of those guys everyone knows one way or the other.”

“Not me I guess,” you take a sip, trying your best to look nonchalant. Historia knows you too well, however, a wicked grin playing at her mouth.

“You think he’s cute, don’t you?”

“What? No, he’s like, a sketchy drug dealer. No way.” Your face grows warm, betraying you.

“Eren’s not sketchy,” Historia says decisively. She catches the disbelieving expression on your face. “He’s really not. He lives like, three blocks from us, and he hangs out with Armin and them.”

“Armin?” You picture the soft-spoken blonde man you’ve befriended from your graduate courses who always wears sweater vests and prefers tea to coffee. Armin’s damn near a genius, far too bright for your small program. “Like, Armin Armin?”

“They’re like, best friends,” Historia affirms, “see? Not sketch. Plus, he’s super fucking hot.”

“You’re literally a lesbian,” you deadpan, “how would you know?”

“I may fuck women, but I have eyes,” Historia smirks, “plus, he was totally checking you out. When was the last time you even got laid?”

Embarrassingly, you have to think on that one. It’s been at least since before the semester started, and you were so busy with those summer courses, not to mention that bartending job you’d taken for extra cash… “I…I honestly don’t know.”

“See?” Historia wiggles her feet under her bottom excitedly, sitting up on her knees. “I have his number–”

“I am literally twenty-four years old. Don’t you think we’re a little too mature to run around fucking our drug dealers?”

“On account of my lovely, beautiful girlfriend and aforementioned lesbianism, I am. You, on the other hand, are not,” Historia grins, pulls out her phone, “you sure you don’t even want his Snapchat?”

“My Snapchat career died when I drank my last Four Loko like, three years ago,” you scoff, shoving her phone away from you. “Don’t you have a not-cute outfit to put on, anyway?”

Historia narrows her eyes at you. “It’s not not cute, it’s trying not to be cute while simultaneously being cute!”

“What?”

“I actually confused myself a little with that one,” she admits, scratching her head, “but you’re right. The sooner we can get to the bar, the better.”

You both scramble through the pile of clean clothing on your floors, each of you too busy and overworked to bother putting it away, and before you know it, you’re in your happy place: chatting with Sasha and Historia, tucked snug against the sticky bar at Scout’s. You’ve all been coming here since the fake ID days; you still remember Historia’s twenty-first, when she had smacked her real driver’s license into the chest of the grumpy old barkeep, Levi, with a triumphant “Ha!”. He’d given you all a round of free shots, and then promptly thrown you out and banned you for a week as time-out. You’d all taken to calling him “Captain” because of the way he ran his bar tight like a navy ship.

“Oh, Captain Levi!” Sasha sing-songs down the bar at him, waving her empty beer bottle and blowing him a kiss. Levi’s unimpressed, dropping another Bud Light onto a coaster in front of her and walking away without a word. “He hates me.”

“He hates you,” you agree, nodding into– what is this, your third beer? Fourth? You’ve already resigned yourself to a lazy Saturday morning, deciding (after some prodding from Historia and Sasha) that your overworked brain deserves more than a two-hour break.

“I don’t get why,” Sasha pouts, digging her hand into the complimentary peanuts the Captain had flung at you upon arrival, “I always tip well.”

“You have to tip well because you annoy the shit out of him every time we come,” Historia corrects her, glancing towards the door.

You frown at her. “Who are you looking for? That’s like, the fourth time you’ve checked the door since we got here.”

Historia makes a show of faux-innocence, checking her phone and looking back at the door again. “No one.”

“Ymir’s out of town, and we’re both here, so that rules out the only suspects I can think of,” Sasha shrugs. You watch Historia closely, the way she checks her phone every few moments, the way her eyes haven’t landed anywhere but you or the door for the last ten minutes, remembering the way she had insisted you tug your shirt down to bare a little more cleavage a few minutes ago…your heart drops. 

“You. Fucking. Didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” Historia’s got a smile tucked under her teeth now, another glance toward the door.

“You didn’t!”

“Didn’t what?” Sasha whips back and forth between you two, panicked. “Didn’t what?”

“You did not invite him.”

“I didn’t invite him–”

“Who?” Sasha demands. You seethe, refusing to take your withering glare off of Historia.

“Her fucking dealer.”

“You have a dealer now, Stor?” Sasha’s eyes fly wide with worry.

“He’s not my dealer,” Historia rolls her eyes, “it’s Eren.”

“Eren Jaeger?” Sasha calms instantly, even looking bored. “Why does that matter? Is he bringing Armin?”

“He came over earlier, and he was totally checking her out–”

You interrupt Historia’s explanation, exasperated. “How does everyone know Eren?”

“I told you, he’s just one of those guys–”

“Everyone knows, I know,” you grumble, taking a long sip, “but even Sasha knows him, and I don’t? I mean, come on.”

“I only know him through Connie,” Sasha pets your arm, chastising, “and my old roommate was hooking up with him for awhile. He’s seriously packing.”

“I heard that!” Historia practically squeals, shaking Sasha’s arm. “Is it true?”

“Who cares?” You shoot daggers at both of them, well aware that you’re making a show out of your annoyance. A small part of your brain does care what’s lurking behind Eren’s zipper, but it’s not like you’re going to act on it. “Why did you invite him, Historia? We don’t even know the guy.”

“I told you,” Historia shows you her phone, proof on the screen, “I didn’t invite him. I just happened to mention we’d be here, and it turns out he’s coming anyway. See?”

> thanks for coming by such short notice earlier! is anyone having a kickback tonight? we’re stopping in at scouts but not sure ab later.

> Not that i know of but me and min will be there later i have a few guys picking up around 10 see u then.

The English major part of your brain instantly hates the way he texts; what kind of psycho doesn’t include a single punctuation mark in between three independent clauses excepting a period at the end?

“He texts like he’s illiterate,” you wrinkle your nose. Historia and Sasha groan.

“He’s a dude, he probably is illiterate, but who cares? I’m talking like eight inches–” Sasha’s cut off by Captain Levi reaching across the bar to slam her beer back onto its coaster from where she had moved it onto the hardwood, fixing her with a disgusted glare. “Oops.”

“Poor Captain,” you muse, watching as he dutifully polishes a set of clean tumbler glasses. “No wonder he hates you.”

“He hates everyone, if it makes you feel any better.” A familiar voice floats over your shoulder, and you smile, swiveling on your barstool to lock eyes with Armin. You hug him like you hadn’t just seen him this morning, the few drinks you’ve had pushing you to be a little over affectionate.

“How are you?”

“Thirsty,” Armin responds, smiling bashfully. Your excitement fizzles into nerves when you notice who’s behind him. Eren got his hands tucked into the pockets of a well-loved, olive-green hoodie (that makes his eyes pop, an unhelpful part of your brain notices), one corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Funny seeing you here,” Eren exchanges a conspiratorial glance with Historia, one that makes your entire face warm.

“Very funny,” you say dryly, shooting a nasty look in Historia’s direction, “work or pleasure?”

“Mostly the former,” Eren says, reaching over the bar to grab two beers from the ice well, “but might as well.”

Your jaw drops; you look back to the Captain, waiting for him to throw Eren out of his bar, but the Captain simply nods coolly at Eren, returning to his polishing.

“How did you just survive that?” You can’t help but gape at him. Eren hands one of the beers to Armin, shrugging.

“I keep half of his late-night staff awake and on-task. Call it a perk of the job.” You want to hate the ease with which he says it, but the lack of arrogance in his voice stops you. He’s not like other dealers you’ve met, always covered in tacky face tattoos and posting Instagram stories of, like, three hundred dollars, showing it off like it’s enough to buy more than a decent used TV with. In fact, you couldn’t picture Eren showing anything off; he’s self-assured, but not smug. Cool, but not out of touch.

“We’ve been coming here for years, and the Captain still hates us.” You’re loath to admit it, but you’re a little– but just a little– impressed. Eren raises an eyebrow at Sasha behind you, telling some story to Armin that evidently requires so much enthusiasm that she’s waving her hands wildly, nearly knocking her beer over. Armin catches the bottle as it happens, looking over his shoulder anxiously at Levi.

“I wonder why.”

“Sasha’s just…” you want to defend your friend, but she’s busy tipping her beer over for the second time, “easily excited.”

“And you’re not?” Eren asks quizzically, amusement clear on his face. In comparison to his unreadable resting expression, any form of emotion looks good crossing his features. A nervous fluttering erupts in your stomach, one you desperately try to quell.

“Hey! I’m fun, just…not as fun as Sasha.”

“I don’t think many people are,” Eren agrees, wincing as Sasha’s beer finally escapes Armin’s quick fingers, crashing over the bar. Levi rushes over to scold her, something that makes both of you laugh.

When you turn back to Eren, his eyes are looking over the top of your head in the direction of the door. A sandy-haired frat dude has entered, looking around and tapping his foot with an obviousness that rivals having walked in with a huge neon sign that read Looking for my plug. Annoyance flickers on Eren’s face for a moment, and he sighs.

“Gimme a sec,” he sets his beer beside yours, “I’ll be right back.”

You haven’t indulged in the conversation long enough to require the promise of a return, but as you watch him walk towards the door, steer the frat dude into a corner you know the cameras don’t catch, you catch a hint of excitement in yourself for him to come back. You pick anxiously at the label on your beer bottle, putting conscious effort into looking anywhere but the back of Eren’s head until an unpleasant, familiar scent envelops you. Your stomach roils.

“Hey you,” Floch slides into Eren’s formerly-occupied spot, smiling saccharinely sweet, “where have you been hiding?”

You can practically feel Historia and Sasha bristling behind you; Floch isn’t an ex, exactly, more like a prolonged series of lapses in judgment. You sigh, trying to look just interested in him enough not to be rude.

“You know me, I stay busy.”

“So busy you can make time for Scout’s without inviting me?”

You feel the grimace flicker momentarily across your face. “You’re here anyway, aren’t you?”

“Would have come earlier if I knew you were going to be here,” he gets closer, his tacky cologne clouding the air around you. You nearly groan; what had ever possessed you to hook up with this guy? Multiple times? The thorn he is in your side now is what you deserve for your stupidity.

“Can we just cut to the chase?” You surprise even yourself with how curt you sound. “I’m too busy for anything like…that at the moment.”

Floch pouts, contrived innocence on his freckled face. “Anything like what?”

You open your mouth to answer, but Eren’s pushing his way back into the spot he’d been standing, interrupting whatever weak-willed excuse you were preparing to offer Floch. Floch’s clearly flustered, moving aside to make room for Eren, eyes flickering between the both of you.

“Hey Jaeger, good to see you again, man,” Floch slaps a stiff hand on Eren’s shoulder. The look on Eren’s face can only be described as a mixture of bewilderment and thinly-veiled distaste; you have to hide your snicker behind your hand.

“Yeah, you too…?”

“Floch Forster,” Floch’s eyes dart off to the side, a light flush rising to his cheeks. “I think we actually met a while ago, at Onyo’s birthday thing? I’m a friend of hers.”

Eren’s eyes meet yours; you try to make the most subtle expression you can to alert Eren to the fact that you and Floch are most definitely not friends. Eren inclines his head ever so slightly to confirm that he’s picked up on your signal, turning to Floch and using the few inches he has on him to bully the other man further out of your space.

“Okay well, Floch, we were sort of in the middle of something, so if you don’t mind…”

You blink, startled at Eren’s bluntness, the sort of outright tone that’s only used by someone who can back up their shit. Floch’s taken aback, backing up by a foot or so, but he furrows his brow. He’s never been one to go down easy.

“In the middle of what, exactly? We can’t all be friends?”

Eren chuckles lightly, but the threat is there. “No.”

Floch’s features twist with anger. “What’s your problem, dude?”

“No problem,” Eren says coolly, “just in the middle of something.”

Floch looks to you to confirm, and you nod your head silently, angling your barstool towards Eren to make your point. “I’ll see you around, Floch.”

“Yeah,” Floch’s frown grows deeper, but he mercifully makes his way back to his table, “see ya.”

A beat of pregnant, awkward silence passes between you and Eren as Floch retreats, the unasked question weighing the air down between you.

“So, he’s not–”

“Please tell me that isn’t–”

You both speak at the same time, cutting yourselves off with a laugh. Eren brings his beer to his lips, grinning. “You first.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s not an ex.”

Eren raises a suspicious eyebrow. “Could have fooled me.”

“He’s just…a bad decision or two, that’s all.” That’s as gently as you can put it without bringing up the days when you were as fun as Sasha, maybe even more so, pounding as much tequila as you could get your hands on and going home with more than a few unsavory characters. You’ve left most of that life behind now, but Floch loves to rear his head at the worst moments and rarely backs down without a fight. “Thanks for getting him out of here, by the way.”

“You didn’t seem overly interested,” Eren finishes his beer, leans forward onto the bar and makes a little hand signal to Levi. You smirk.

“Only get the first round free?”

“Two more,” Eren ignores your teasing to speak to Levi, pointing between himself and your near-empty bottle. He pulls out a twenty, slides it to Levi, holds up his hand when Levi offers him change.

“Big spender too, huh?”

Eren rolls his eyes, something playful toying at the corner of his mouth. “Just because me and ‘Min drink for free, doesn’t mean you do. If I’m getting you a beer, I’m going to pay for it.”

“And tip triple what it’s worth?”

“Honestly,” Eren leans close to you and lowers his voice, something woody and intoxicating wafting off of him, “I think I pissed off your ex, and if he’s anything like the guy I think he is, he’s going to get trashed and try to fight the pinball machine in the corner. It’s the least I can do.”

His proximity goes to your head, makes your brain cloudy. He’s close enough that you can see his pulse thudding in his throat. You swallow hard, scramble for a response. “Aren’t you quite the philanthropist? And he’s not my ex.”

“Go tell him that,” Eren scoffs, “get the pinball fight on early.”

“Do you talk to every girl like this?”

“Like what?”

“Patronizing,” you say accusingly, letting a sip of cold beer wash over your tongue, hoping it will shock you out of your little trance. To your surprise, a divot appears between Eren’s thick brows and his bottom lip sticks out a bit in a pout.

“‘M not trying to be patronizing,” he leans on the bar, god, now he’s even closer, “sorry if it came off that way.”

“I was teasing,” you smile half-heartedly, leaning back in your barstool to get a few precious inches between you two.

“I just…really don’t like that kid. Gives me a bad vibe.”

“You’ve hit the nail on the head there,” you agree, chancing a glance back over your shoulder to the redheaded man at the hightop. Floch doesn’t notice you peeking, too caught up in making a group of underclassmen who are definitely underage giggle demurely at whatever he was saying. That was always something you hated about him; he was so showy, always having to establish himself as the center of attention in every room. He was just so unlike…Eren. You want to smack a palm to your forehead, knock the thought right out of your brain.

Something catches Eren’s attention, and you turn to look. Yet another antsy frat boy is hovering by the door, sweating bullets. Eren glances down at you apologetically, but you only smile back at him, understanding.

“Go ahead.”

“Two seconds,” Eren promises, pressing his beer into your hand as a guarantor of his return.

The next hour or so passes in mostly the same fashion; Eren alternates between standing beside you and making inconspicuous handshakes with a few more customers that come ambling into the bar. Some are anxiety-ridden like the first two, some appear to be friends, clapping Eren on the back and pulling a bright, genuine smile out of him that makes your stomach do backflips. You shoot the shit in the meantime, bickering over trivial topics like the best late-night pizza shops around and which streaming service is actually worth the money.

You don’t learn anything too substantial about Eren, but you do learn a few things. He seems to enjoy listening to you talk about literature, a welcome change from Historia and Sasha, psychology graduate students who tend to zone out whenever you let a term like “character development” slip. His eyes light up when you go into a detailed rant about how Hamlet isn’t overrated and anyone who thinks it is just doesn’t know how to properly analyze it, and he cackles when you inform him that Dante’s Inferno is essentially Bible-based fanfiction that has irreparably altered the Christian religion for the worse.

You learn that family is a sore spot, an innocent, obligatory question from you about life back home casting a shadow over Eren’s face. You immediately backtrack, of course, but pocket his reaction so you can avoid the topic later. You learn that he’s a cat person; he has a little black kitten at home named Gumi from his favorite anime. You learn that he’s deathly allergic to pistachios, but not any other nuts for some reason that his childhood doctors could never pinpoint. Most recently, you’ve learned that he hates tequila, basing this observation on his fake-retching reaction when Sasha orders a round of shots.

He raises his eyebrows, impressed, when you throw yours back without flinching. “So you’re a tequila girl, huh?”

“I’m blowing off steam,” you brush him off. You can hear your voice developing a slight slur to it, though, and behind you, Sasha and Historia are starting to sing some old, classic rock song you used to pregame with. You know your fun night out has started to reach its expiration date.

“Not driving, right?”

“God no,” you shake your head vigorously, “I live around the corner, remember?”

“That’s right,” Eren’s mouth quirks up in a way that makes you think he’s not thinking about the past, but of a potential future he could file that address away for. Warmth pools in your stomach, bubbling low and molten in your core; yeah, you need to get out of here.

“Speaking of…” you pull your purse around to set it in your lap, rifling through it for your credit card, “we should probably head that way soon. When I start taking shots and Sasha starts singing, it’s bedtime.”

Eren blushes; you have to hold back a giddy laugh at how cute it looks on him. “You don’t need that.”

“Don’t need what?’

“Your card.”

You roll your eyes at him. “I get that you have friends in high places here, but my name is permanently engraved on the Captain’s shit list, so I actually have to pay my tab.”

“I, uh, sorta took care of it while you were in the bathroom. Figured you’d be heading out soon.” Eren rubs a hand over the back of his neck. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he almost looks bashful.

You blink, processing his words. “Eren…you didn’t have to do that.”

“Wanted to,” he shrugs, turning to face the community of sticky bottles on Levi’s side of the bar, the pink on his cheeks deepening.

“I’m going home alone,” you clarify, just in case you’ve given him the wrong impression. Well, it might not necessarily be the wrong impression; you’ve been trying to keep the simmering under your skin contained all night, but you’re still not going to take him home…at least not the first day you’ve met him, you tell yourself.

“Yeah, I know,” he chuckles, “I didn’t pay because I thought it’d convince you to go home with me. Sometimes people are just nice.”

You’re a little stunned. Somehow you think you’d be less surprised if he had said he paid it with the expectation of you fucking him. “...right. Well, thank you, anyway. You really didn’t have to.”

“No problem,” Eren’s air of casual coolness has returned, he slings an arm around your shoulder when you slide off of your barstool to land on the floor beside him, squeezing your body tight to his in a little half-hug. “It was cool talking to you. Sure you don’t need an escort?”

He eyes Sasha and Historia behind you, giving their goodbyes to Armin via a peppering of kisses all over his now-red face. You shake your head up at him, feeling rather incapacitated with the weight of his muscly arm bearing down on your shoulders. “I think we’ll survive.”

“I’ll see you soon, then.” The promise glitters in his eyes as it leaves his lips, leaves your head in a whirl.

To your disappointment, he hugs Historia and Sasha goodbye, too, and you make your drunken way home, arms linked as you charge through the October chill. Your friends beg for details of your night, Historia gloating intermittently, but you aren’t even sure what to tell them. Nothing of importance had really happened, and yet, it felt like it had.

As you drift into what will hopefully be a long night of much-needed sleep, you try to make a mental list of all the things you need to do to set up your class’ next unit. You’re moving onto Shakespeare, but your hazy mind keeps inexplicably wandering back to green eyes, plush lips, long fingers wrapping around a sweaty bottle. You hadn’t actually been lying to Floch when you told him you were far too busy for anything remotely resembling male companionship for the time being, but something about Eren…he was stuck to your dwindling consciousness, the most irrelevant details of your conversation together playing on a loop in your head. Much ado about nothing, indeed.

[juniefruit]

☆ Detective partner Seungmin ☆

☆ interpol interpol, international police!! (iykyk)

☆ Warnings: None. Gn reader! sorta proofread.

☆ Word Count: 1.2k

-Seungmin was a man of few words. It didn’t borher you though, you preferred it. It was scary at times, though; the unadulterated silence. Nobody can tell what gears are turning in his mind, until he strikes with precision.

-You both work in the same office building, as detectives for Interpol. In the urban jungle, there’s never a boring day. Your job and your field partner keep you on your toes. Whether it be chasing criminals or decoding mystery files, seungmin is always your plus one. 

-Seungmin was your field partner, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You often bounce ideas off of eachother and build off of them, rather than contradicting eachother. He prefers to think by himself before running his mouth to you; eyebrows furrowed, deep brown eyes focused on the corner of the office rug as you wait for him to collect his thoughts.

-He drops off papers and records at your desk without speaking, because there’s not much to say. He knows you’re capable of figuring out what he handed you. He even notices when you’ve run out of coffee or tea, and brew you a new cup. So yes, he definitely focuses more on acts of service or quality time rather than words of affirmation. He’s also such a nervous bean when it comes to physical touch. He’ll crumble under the pressure of your palm against his arm. 

-Many long nights have been spent in the home office of Seungmin’s apartment. The coffee is brewing and your detective coats are hung near the front door. One entire wall is dedicated to a giant bulletin board pinned to the brim with paper evidence, records, and red string. You both stand, side by side, shoulders brushing against eachother occaisionally as you scan for clues.

-When you’re out in the field, he’s more talkative, but just to you. He is definitely very observative, pointing out people’s behavior or social cues that could help with the investigation. Sometimes in the office, your coworkers call you into meetings specifically so Seungmin would spill the relevant info. 

-He would never admit it, but there are moments when he feels extra protective of you. More than what any other detective partner would feel. Especially in high-stress situations in the field. He would point the blame on himself if you ever got hurt. He’s definetely an overthinker, paired with his closed off nature, it’s not a good mix. 

-The shoddy, flickering overhead light did nothing to hide the glint in your eyes. You were currently inside of a makeshift secret base, files and evidence stacked and disheveled atop a metal table. Seungmin was leaning over it across from your seated figure, collarbones popping out as he rested his weight against his hands. His slim but muscled figure looms over yours as he practically hears the gears turning in your head. The way your eyes light up when you finally crack the case has him mesmerized. He can’t help the twin smile that creeps onto his face. In a flash, you both grabbed a map of the inner city and your detective coats.

-It felt like the city was drowning with how much it was raining. And of course, you and Seungmin were on a mission. Even the rain couldn’t stop you two. You had finally, finally gotten a lead that was promising. The rain puddles splashed under the thud of your combat boots that propelled you further down the sidewalk, absent of people that were currently sheltering from the downpour. Seungmin was hot on your tail, with the rapid swishing of his coat as you both swerved left and right through the streets, gutters of the skyscrapers working overtime. You occasionally glanced down to check the map, gripping it with vigor as rain dripped and slid down the glossy paper. Time was of the essence as you followed the clues you’ve gathered to find the criminal’s hideout before they struck again. 

-Long story short, Seungmin thought ahead and called for backup. By the time the criminal was handcuffed and getting dragged into a cop car, your hair was soaked and a few stray raindrops were sliding down the curve of your cheek as you grinned at your accomplishment. Seungmin loosed a sigh with the fact that the chase was finally over. When his eyes locked with yours from across the room, the sound of heavy raindrops still pounding against the tiny, high-up windows of the bare concrete basement hideout. He thought you had never looked more beautiful. He cherished spontaneous moments like these, where time seemed to stop for him. He wished he was an artist so he could capture your magnificence for eternity. A sense of calm and relief washed over him before he took a tentative step forward, and decided to approach you- still catching your breath with a notepad and pen in hand, documenting the hideout you two had unceremoniously busted into an hour prior, taking the criminal inside by surprise. Without a word, Seungmin reached out a hand, a silent request. “Let’s head back and take a breather, hm?” His hair was also promisingly damp, framing his ethereal face. Cautiously, you took his hand in yours. Your hands were chilly from the previous exposure to the rain. Soungmin’s hand was comforting and warm. How? Well, he chose to stand directly in front of the space heater while he waited for you to finish up your documentation. You nodded and shoved the notepad into the back pocket of your trousers. “I stole officer Minho’s umbrella while he was busy. Don’t tell him, or he’ll lock us in here for the night.” You huffed out a laugh at his confession. “Our job here is done.” He says. With that, he tugs you closer by your hand, squeezing it in the process. Making your way up the steps and onto street level, he quickly opens the umbrella before taking your hand again and making sure you were covered from the rain, which was still coming down, but lighter. He doesn’t know what kind of confidence has come over him. Maybe the adrenaline hasn’t worn off yet. At least you weren’t complaining. Street lamps illuminated your figures as you made your way back to your apartment. It was closer, you suggested. How could Seungmin say no? He obliged, already looking forward to the tea you always make for him that’ll soothe the coldness that has seeped into the core of his bones from running around in the rain all evening. The jingle of your keys pulls him out of your thoughts as the door to your apartment creaks open. You insisted Seungmin bring a casual change of clothes to keep at your apartment, exactly for situations like these. After getting comfy, the rest of the night is spent lounging on the couch, mugs set on the coffeetable, and soft late night beats playing from the TV speakers with just the lamp in the corner illuminating Seungmin’s face in a soft warm glow. Something about the atmosphere had you shuffling closer to the heat radiating off of him, cuddling under a fuzzy blanket draped over you two. Seungmin couldn’t fight off the smile that graced his soft and pretty lips. He nuzzled his head into your shoulder, an arm wrapping around your midriff before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep, relieved and content. 

check out my masterlist~ for more!

Warning: Everything I post is 100% my original writing & thoughts. This also includes the moodboards at the beginning, that I create. Please do not plagiarize or copy. Tag for inspiration or add-ons. Reblogs are appreciated! <3

[the-apocrypha]

ohh, can i hear about the uni au? 👀

(for the WIP ask game)

You absolutely may! A sort of urban fantasy/uni AU, where Hob is a werewolf from an estate, and Dream is a sorcerer from a Bezos-rich family of sorcerers, and. They meet. :D

Rachel is one of the few people Hob met sober during fresher’s week, as there was no alcohol at their scholarship luncheon. They don’t have much in common other than both being diversity grabs for a prestigious university, but it turns out that an inch of poverty becomes a mile when you’re surrounded by people who started each school year with three new pairs of shoes from Clarks and a tailored uniform. 

Luckily for them, trauma bonding is a well-documented phenomenon, and the universe has decided to deliver it in spades. 

Hob is stirring his soggy cornflakes round and round, eyes burning, head pounding. The rest of his hallmates are in similar condition, if not worse. The girl next to him has her head in her arms and earmuffs over her ears. Rachel is across from him, on her third cup of coffee. 

The dining hall has surely never been so full at six in the morning on a Saturday. But what else are they supposed to do? 

“You’d think—” Rachel starts, and then is interrupted by the crescendoing, unearthly shriek that rattles the windows and makes Hob want to find a way to stuff more cotton into his ears. 

She heaves a sigh, and cover her ears. 

Hob presses his hands over his own ears and closes his eyes, counting. 

Cavendish Hall is one of the oldest buildings on campus, and in Hob’s two weeks of residence, it’s been uniformly excellent. His room is spacious with huge old windows and an actual (though boarded up) fireplace. The dining hall is like something out of Harry Potter. The building is old enough that it has a Temperatus instead of normal HVAC, and Hob is told that in the winter the spells even extend to warming the floorboards. 

He was warned about Old Beans.

The warnings did not do him justice.

“You’d think,” Rachel repeats, when the godawful screaming dies away, and Hob dares to pry a cotton ball loose, “they’d have found a way to do a proper exorcism by now.” 

“You’d think it would take less than seven hours to get a sorcerer in to shut ‘im up,” Hob grumbles. 

[tastesoftamriel]

I’d love to hear your take on Tamrielic coffee culture! Imperial cappuccinos, Breton cafe au lait, Redguard iced coffee with lemon…so many options~

Coffee varies in popularity among the Provinces, but almost everyone enjoys a good strong cup of bean juice (and it tastes much better than stamina potions)!

Altmer

Coffee isn't the favoured drink of most High Elves, but it is enjoyed in small amounts around Summerset. The most popular way of drinking coffee there is a simple espresso, served in small cups for sipping alongside small cakes and biscuits in the afternoon. While some complain that espresso is too strong and bitter for their tastes, a good brew is smooth, rich, and flavourful, with notes of vanilla and fruits.

Argonians

Black Marsh is one of Tamriel's foremost producers of coffee due to the rich soil and warm climate that makes growing coffee relatively easy compared to other Provinces. Egg coffee sounds bizarre, but this Argonian take on the cappuccino is one of the best ways to drink coffee in my opinion! A strong brew, sweetened with sugar, is topped with firm, whipped sweetened egg whites and served piping hot. Simply stir the egg into the coffee before it has time to set, and you have all the benefits of a milky coffee without the milk.

Bosmer

Believe it or not, the Bosmer have found a way to make delicious coffee that's Green Pact compliant! While it sounds unsavoury, Wood Elves in Valenwood pick out undigested coffee beans from the dung of civet cats, who eat wild coffee fruits. The beans are washed thoroughly and roasted, with the civet cat's digestive system purportedly aiding in the fermentation of the bean, giving the resulting brew a rich and robust flavour. This 'luwak' coffee has become so famous that it's become a pricey export to other parts of Tamriel.

Bretons

Cream and coffee go hand in hand in High Rock, generally with a couple of sugar cubes or flavoured syrups or caramel for a rich beverage. Using cream instead of milk helps to ease the bitterness of Breton coffee, which is unfortunately made by boiling coffee grounds. As any coffee aficionado knows, boiling your coffee makes it rather sour and unpleasant, making the cream and syrups a must.

Dunmer

Of the races, the Dark Elves are probably the least enthusiastic about coffee as it is not native to Morrowind. However, coffee culture from around Tamriel has made the beverage more popular among the younger generations of urban Dunmer, who infuse their beans with marshmerrow during the roasting process. Served black in tall cups with a pinch of marshmerrow sugar, this simple drink is unique in flavour due to its sweet, candy-like aroma. For those with a taste for the exotic, add a splash of guar milk.

Imperials

In Cyrodiil, coffee is usually drunk with milk. Cappuccinos, made by topping coffee with frothed steamed milk are particularly popular, not least due to the fancy art that can be made by pouring the coffee into the milk in intricate patterns. While in itself it's not a particularly remarkable beverage, it's an Imperial staple that's enjoyed from the Colovian Highlands to Blackwood by young and old.

Khajiit

The Khajiit are famous for their drip coffees, in which coffee grounds are placed in small metal filters that slowly drip into a small cup, halfway filled with moon sugar-sweetened condensed milk. The resulting brew is very strong, very sweet, and bound to wake you up after the first sip.

Nords

Coffee is not particularly popular in Skyrim, but it's served as plainly as it gets: strong and black, and sometimes with a spoonful of sugar. However, what it's served with is unique to the Province. Coffee cheese, which is a slightly chewy and porous cheese, is dipped into the coffee and nibbled on as you sip your brew. I know it sounds weird, but give it a try and you'll be pleasantly surprised.

Orcs

Orcish coffee is always served with copious amounts of sugar and echatere milk. This simple drink is especially favoured by Wrothgarian echatere herders, who keep their energy levels up by sipping on this beverage throughout the day from echatere-skin flasks.

Redguards

Coffee is widely grown in the Bantha, making the drink a native Hammerfell staple. Whether it's served black, with sugar, or goat milk, coffee is often infused with spices like cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla, and even chili. Another popular way of drinking coffee the Redguard way is the amusingly-named 'dirty chai': a strong double espresso mixed with equal amounts of spicy chai and frothy goat milk, and served with sweet pastries and biscuits as an accompaniment.

[aria-ashryver]

Hii 😍

Sooo I wanted to ask for your MCs / Pairings what is something they like, some favorite colors and such. Anything you feel comfortable with sharing 🥰 I just want to know more about your characters 😍

Hope you have a wonderful day 🩷

Hi hi sunshine!! I hope you are having the most fabulous day!! 🧁🌸🌷💕 sorry it took me forever to answer this lol

Here's a few favs for the Starlight trio 🥰

LUCA

Favourite Colour: It changes a lot — at the moment it is red and orange, but they often like foresty, green, earthy palettes

Favourite Food/Drink: Black and/or iced coffee, energy drinks, Skittles, salty snacks

Favourite Hobbies & Ways To Relax: Dance (esp. Ballet, contemporary, and urban) Drumming Balisong flipping Re-watching movies they’ve seen before, snuggled up with Cas and Gabe Yoga w Gabe Driving places with Cas in his ugly little car lol Collecting little trinkets

(Luca will absolutely steal stuff from his friends lol. With Cas and Gabe (and his best friend Viktor), he’s sneaky, bc he knows they don’t actually care, but with other friends he normally asks permission by holding up the thing he wants and going “I’m stealing this” lol)

GABRIEL

Favourite Colour: Autumnal palettes (like burnt orange, burgundy, deep gold, etc), as well as soft, muted hues

Favourite Food/Drink: Chamomile tea, pistachio ice cream, coconut milkshakes, alfajores, coquito tres leches cake, any of his father’s recipes for home-cooked meals. Gabe isn't vegan but he does often eat a lot of plant-based food!

Favourite Hobbies & Ways To Relax: Cooking (especially for other people) Cleaning (lol, I know, but having a clean and well-organised home is like good self-care for Gabe) His 5 step-skincare routine Reading, especially long fantasy novel series Playing his guitar and singing Yoga w Luca Muay Thai Recently, photography!

CAS

Favourite Colour: Black, red, purple, blue — dark colours with a night aesthetic

Favourite Food/Drink: Galbi-tang, banana-mat uyu, red bean bungeo-ppang with vanilla ice cream, hot sauce! (he puts hot sauce on everything lol)

Favourite Hobbies & Ways To Relax: Taking long, hot showers Hanging out with his Venandi/Flagstone Cove buddies at the fighting ring, sparring, boxing Sketching or painting, spraypainting Driving places with Luca in his totally awesome car Getting little adrenaline hits by doing things like cliff diving

Also - I associate Cas with the Moon, Gabriel with the Sun, and Luca with the Stars ✨✨✨

[echo-of-samus]

for the transfem's feeling a 90's vibe

Bath & Body Works Fragrance Mist

Sun-Ripened Raspberries

Cucumber Melon

Plumeria

Juniper Breeze

Sweet Pea

Vanilla Bean

Herbal Essences Shampoo & Conditioner

Rose Hips

Orange Blossom

Jojoba Oil & Lavender

Perfumes

Exclamation - Coty

White Musk - Bath & Body Works

Love’s Baby Soft - Dana

Angel - Thierry Mugler

Pear Glace - Victoria Secret

Love Spell - Victoria Secret

Spice Girls Scent Mist - Discontinued but clones are available

Makeup & Other

Coffee Bean - Revlon

Toast of New York - Revlon

Great Lash Mascara - Maybelline

Max Factor 2000 Calorie - Maybelline

24/7 Moondust Eyeshadow in Space Cowboy - Urban Decay

Juicy Tubes - Lancome

If anyone has some suggestions please message and I'll add them to the list

[fatherfigurefusion]

Tsugumi Hazawa Headcanons

(Happy Birthday, Tsugumi Hazawa!)

1- Physical appearance headcanons: Average body type, pale skin, has freckles all over her body.

2- Some kins she has: Makoto Naegi (Danganronpa), Hitohito Tadano (Komi-san), Emmett (The LEGO Movie)

3- I'm honestly a firm believer in genderfluid Tsugu. One moment, she would be a wholesome hyperfemme cottagecore gf, and the next moment he is a leather-wearing bad boy (who is still a wholesome coffee bean).

4- She probably has some sort of disability that results in frequent dizzy spells and fainting (I'm thinking POTS, but I'm open to other suggestions), especially during the first Afterglow event. Tsugu tries to claim that she is fine and can work properly (even on notoriously BAD days), but the rest of Afterglow are ALL ABOUT self-care and are having NONE of that. Would probably use either crutches or a cane on particularly bad days, and has a love for compression socks.

5- Because of her bond with Hina, I'd imagine that she would also gain an interest in cryptids. I'd imagine that she would particularly like Jackalopes or the Mothman, since they're fluffy bois.

6- Relating to her new love of cryptids, I'd imagine that urban fantasy books (especially ones with a cryptic love interest) would end up finding their way into the book exchanges between her and Sayo. Upon seeing these books appear in her stash, Sayo could only mutter Hina's name under her breath.

7- Because of her dislike of black coffee, I'd imagine that she would have a noticeable distaste for anything bitter. Imagine the sensual nightmare she suffered when Eve offered her some authentic Finnish salmiakki.

8- I'd imagine that Tsugu would be a virtual jack-of-all-trades when it comes to playing other instruments, apart from the keyboard (for extra Tsugurific points). In addition to the keyboard, She has experience with the guitar, bass, and drums, as well as some other non-rock-related instruments (such as the flute and clarinet).

9- Tsugu watched shonen anime with the Udagawa siblings, ever since they were all little (and they still watch such anime now, even after Tsugu's tastes have shifted towards shoujo). Something about an ordinary underdog rising to the top with nothing but hard work and spirit just speaks to her, even before starting the band. Works like My Hero Academia and other such underdog stories would be right up Tsugu's alley.

10- One time, while at the park, Tsugu was quick to attract a bunch of squirrels and chipmunks to her (thanks to her Tupperware box full of mixed nuts that she was planning on snacking on). The rest of Afterglow got pictures of the frankly-adorable incident, and Moca still likes to claim that Tsugu was simply "one of them" and the squirrels/chipmunks were simply "reclaiming their queen". It's how Tsugu became squirrel-coded by the rest of Afterglow (and even people outside of Afterglow).

[orii-blogs-stuff]

Hello! Am sending a questions about your Ascendence of a Bookworm x Resturant to Another World AU.

Which was you favorite part to write so far?

Has anyone traded goods such as plants or meats from Yurgenschmidt (hope I remember how to spell that) to Nekoya yet?

How well known is the restaurant among the merchants and commoners of Yurgen?

I find it fascinating to think of what the restaurant can make with the plants and meats found in each duchy that cannot be found on Earth.

I like how you managed to show the differences of culture, what the nobles expect to experience vs their real customer service experience, and the way the people who become regulars adapt to it in their own way.

I especially like how you’ve incorporated the regular order nicknames to each person. Once I remember who is who, it’s interesting to think of how the scenarios will play out with those present.

How did you come up for the favorite meals of other characters and do you have a list of them?

Thank you for making this wonderful story. I never thought this crossover would happen but now that it did, it is amazing! Hope you have a great day!

Screams~~!!

I wasn't really expecting an ask but I'm so happy I got one~~!!

Ok so from top to bottom:

My favourite part has to be writing about the Nobles meeting Mestionora, there just this delicious sort of (idk what to call it, karma maybe?) Thing in the air where Nobles are getting treated the same way most of them would treat the commoners you know what I mean, if face of a metaphysical cosmic entity they are *nothing* and the realization of that feels like such a juicy thing to write.

Yes, Mako and his fellow chef Leo are always trying to find ways to incorporate local food from Yurgenschmidt and the other world into their resrurant menu, Rozemyne traded a few fruits and veggies for cacao and coffee beans in the beginning when Alexandria's country gate wasnt connected to the land of sand. Now Rozemyne only imports cacao and about a kilogram or natto every week.

It's a bit of an Urban legend amongst merchants, especially travelling merchants, some don't belive it, others swear they saw it, benno makes a lot of money from all the new exotic foods Rozemyne brings with her to Alexandria and traveling merchants (atleast, the ones who found it) make it a point to find and label all (or as many) Nekoya doors they can find on their way (because food is essential to traveling merchants and their families) tho it's mostly not mentioned in the story itself cuz its a bit irrelevant to the plot (aka: I can't figure out a way to incorporate it without sounding forced it)

Aww thank you~~ ya I'd also love to see what the chefs could come up with using Yurgen meats and veggies.

I haven't made a list of them. Also I put a bit of thought into the names because that's the least amount of effort I could atleast put into the characters, example:-

Shuu - he's a Vtuber, meaning many sleepless nights, meaning he needs a lot of energy boosts to go about his day such as caffeine, so I chose melon soda because melon soda seems to be pretty popular in Japan.

😭😭😭 I am legit sobbing~~!! Thank you very much!! And have a great day as well!

[kxllerblond]

what is your blog or graphic aesthetic or motif? why? what genre do you primarily favour? what are you top five universes to RP within? what have you learned by proxy of roleplaying and rp researching? what skills have you gained by roleplaying? Interested in all of these, but feel free to pick and choose <3

what is your blog or graphic aesthetic or motif? why?

Coffee is the big one. I know I've answered this in prettier detail before but I'm not gonna go digging dkjfgbdg. Coffee is Clark's general identifier and also serves as one of his sole constants and connections to who he used to be. This and that, here nor there, half and half is also a big motif for obvious reasons lol. Facelessness with nothing but a suit as an identifier. Stuff like that.

what genre do you primarily favour?

Modern and urban fantasy and general occult/supernatural. I love the sci-fi aspect I have sprinkled in but I've definitely always been primarily drawn to genres with monsters and demons, etc. If we're talking genre as in, you know, genre-genre. I like a good crime mystery, general drama. Suspense. Also a big sucker for romance and dark comedy.

what are you top five universes to RP within?

Oh okay when they say universes they mean settings I think? So urban fantasy/supernatural, sci-fi, whatever superheroes falls under, I don't mind high-fantasy and historical if it transitions into modern supernatural, and post-apoc.

what have you learned by proxy of roleplaying and rp researching?

A lot of stuff about coffee, obviously! I'm no expert and I still don't use anything besides your basic plug n' go, but I've learned a lot about the roasting process and coffee types and stuff like barista competitions and how ethical (or unethical rather) side of the bean trade.

In terms of any social aspects, I'd say I've learned that you have to have a nice balance of caring and apathy here. You can't go around with this purely strict 'I don't owe anyone anything it's a hobby' mentality but you also can't fuck up your own enjoyment and mental well-being by trying to be everything and anything other people want. You've gotta put in effort to get effort back but you also need to be able to detach and move on when things get funky.

what skills have you gained by roleplaying?

I wish I could say writing but I do think I have regressed in that aspect. I go back and read older stuff from even pre-covid and I just wonder where that freak went and why they took my writing voice with them, lol. I've gained a hobby and in this day in age I feel like that in itself is a skill. I talk to so many younger coworkers and they just....go home and just do nothing and it's like...baffling, idk.

I like to think my time with Clark has taught me how to make a socially acceptable gary sue, lol.

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

BTHB 2023 - Fill 2 - Gunshot Wound

None of y'all have the full context for this modern urban fantasy au but just know Mariano is ex-military and ex-line cook and is now the manager of a little coffee shop

TWs: gun violence, robbery gone wrong, blood, gore

"You know what this is." The hooded, masked person in front of Mariano said, hands shoved in their pockets. Their voice was just as tight and tense as their nondescript, hoodie-clad shoulders.

Dark eyes roamed over them before dropping back down to the mug he'd been drying off. "I do, yes." He didn't need to be told what the oddly-shaped boxy thing in their front pocket was.

"You'll be disappointed." Mariano continued dryly, setting the mug down, pointedly not looking at their face. "A cup of coffee would go farther than what's in the safe. I'll even throw in your pick of the pastries."

People didn't do this for no reason. They were hoping for more than the measly three hundred kept in the obvious safe in the office. Naturally, there was more in the secret safe under the floor, but this person likely wasn't old enough to be able to remember possibilities like that in the heat of the moment. "Prison isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"Shut up." They drew the gun, finally, their hands shaking as it was aimed at his head. There was a fifty-fifty chance they'd even land a shot, if they remembered to disengage the safety. "Go get me the money. No alarms, I know about hold-up buttons." They growled, dropping their voice low.

Mariano held his hands up for them to see, turning slowly towards the door to the back. "It's dark back there, the lights are motion activated." He said, starting to lead the way. The last thing he needed was some jumpy twenty-something opening fire on the bags of coffee beans and making more of a mess. "We're alone for the night though."

He carefully pushed the swinging door open, the old, yellow lights flicking on just like he'd described. Even so, the person jumped, drawing in a trembling breath. Mariano flinched, waiting for the burn of a bullet to hit him. In just a moment, the cream of his sweater would start to turn dark.

But it never did. The store room was as quiet as ever. The smell of coffee was the only thing in the air.

"Fuck--okay." They said. It sounded like they wiped a hand on their pants, the soft rattle of the gun being shifted was deafening in the room.

Mariano took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "We're alright." There really weren't many things worse than an amateur with a weapon they didn't know how to use.

As he pushed open the office door, the "what to do during a robbery" sign he'd printed out when he was promoted greeted them. The frowning stick figures mocked him, crudely drawn with the ancient mouse. He probably needed to refine it after tonight.

Do not fight.

Explain everything you're doing.

Give them what they want.

Remain as calm as you can.

Lock the doors when the robber is gone.

He was glad he'd had the forethought to not include "call emergency services" on there. No need to freak this robber out more. "This'll take a moment to boot up, it's older than most of the employees."

Metal pressed into his back. The muzzle was off-center, at least, off to his right. A punctured lung was terrible, but probably survivable. "Fine, whatever."

Mariano didn't miss how his own hand shook as he rested it on the keyboard. He entered the password, watching the old, blue background and block-y icons fill the screen. It was easy enough to open the safe passcode program and get it running. The little wheels spun in front of them both for a few seconds before the four digit code appeared.

"I'm going to stand up and go to the safe."

Slowly, Mariano rolled the peeling computer chair backwards and stood, raising his hands again. "It's in this cabinet, right here." Just as painstakingly, Mariano reached for the wobbly bookshelf and opened the cabinet doors to reveal the tiny electronic safe.

"I promise, you're going to be really, really disappointed if I open this." He tried, one more time. "We don't do a lot of cash transactions here."

The gun just pressed harder against Mariano's back. "And I said to shut up. Just get me the money. Now." They were both shaking, just so.

Mariano took another breath. He started to key in the passcode, the other's eyes burning holes in his back. The gun was still there, shouting every minute shiver of the person's hand at Mariano. He hoped they knew better than to keep their finger on the trigger if they didn't intend to hurt him right then.

His finger missed the last digit, hitting the key next to it. The safe beeped angrily, the red light flashing. The person hissed out a curse. The safety clicked off.

"I'm sorry." Mariano said, taking another deep breath. "My hands are unsteady right now. It just needs a moment to reset."

"You'd better not be trying anything funny." They growled, and Mariano felt them looking around. The muzzle wiggled as they turned this way and that. Mariano felt bile rising in his throat. "This better not call the police."

"It won't." Mariano said. "It's barely able to connect to our computer, much less a phone line." The person's fidgeting only got more intense.

He tried again, this time missing the third digit. His binder had never felt as tight as it did right then. The safe flashed red again.

Mariano opened his mouth to apologize, and explain that the worst thing the safe did was beep at them, when a car alarm pierced the air.

Mariano jolted, his hands jerking back from the safe. The robber jumped at the same time. A deafening pop filled the room.

Mariano staggered forward, catching himself on the bookcase. He looked back at the robber in surprise, and met their own wide eyes. "I--" They started, glancing down at the gun in their hands before they sprinted out, not even looking back as the gun hit the floor with a clatter and another sharp bang.

This time, Mariano felt his hip erupt into fire. Warmth began spreading along his back as his knees gave out. The heavy silence was punctured by his own hitching noises and the shift of his jeans against the old, rough carpet.

The phone. He needed to call someone. An ambulance. His fingers felt icy as he reached up to grab the landline from the desk. If he couldn't manage to be coherent, they needed to be able to easily track the address.

It really didn't matter how much training you had, he thought as he punched in the number for the emergency line--getting shot was still getting shot.

"What's the location of your emergency?"

Mariano's mouth was almost too dry to speak. "It's at Cup o' Joe," He started, absently bringing one hand up to his aching chest as he carefully rattled off the address. The pain was deeper, more urgent than he could reach. "There was an attempted robbery. I've been shot. They're not in the store anymore and the door is unlocked. They dropped the gun."

"Alright," The soothing voice on the other end of the line said. "I've got people on the way, they're four minutes out. What's your name?"

"It's...it's Mariano." He wheezed, gasping as lightning shot up his hip and tugged his spine ramrod straight. "I was hit twice, once in the hip and...and once in the upper right back."

"Thank you Mariano, you're doing good. Can you put pressure on where you were hit?" Mariano could hear the clatter of fingers spilling over a keyboard in the background. It almost drowned out the rattle starting to fill his breathing.

He pressed one hand to his hip, dragging another ragged noise from his throat. He could feel where the bullet had entered, right above the waistband of his pants. "Only at my hip." He reported, blinking hard. "My arm can't...I can't reach my back like that. But I...have a belt. I can figure something out."

Thoughts moving too fast to process, Mariano started undoing his belt. Dimly, he heard the operator speak up again. "They're three minutes away, I won't go anywhere until they tell me they have you, okay?"

"Thank...thank you." His heart was racing, adrenaline working with the bullet wound to keep his breathing shallow as he reached for the sweatshirt he'd left on the computer chair yesterday. Clumsy, blood-slick fingers struggled to loop the belt around himself like a seat belt while keeping the sweatshirt wadded up. The metal buckle kept slipping away, clicking and smearing blood along his sweater each time it did. "I'm feeling dizzy, and it's getting hard to breathe, but...I'm trying to get pressure on my back."

"Stay with me, now, they're about a minute away. Where are you in the building?" They asked, a steadfast pillar of reason for Mariano's scattered thoughts to grab onto.

Mariano swallowed hard, the tang of pennies filling his mouth when he breathed out this time. "I'm in...I'm in the..." He knew the word he wanted. It was there, as close as the receiver was, as close as the desk he'd slumped against. "The, ah..." It was just out of reach of his buzzing, swirling head. What was the word for the place he ate lunch in every day?

The edges of his vision had started to go dark--it wasn't helping him focus.

A deep, wracking cough seized him, forcing Mariano to curl in on himself as blood was forced up and out of his lungs. He tried to gasp in a breath as his chest burned, the arm he braced against the floor giving out. Mariano blinked sluggishly when the carpet rushed up to meet him, the frames of his glasses biting into his temple.

Somewhere, far away and tinny, someone was saying his name.

Even further, a pleasant little jingle rang out. Someone was in the shop. They wanted something.

Another coughing fit shook him, leaving him breathless when it released its claws from his chest. Mariano couldn't get a full breath. He couldn't push himself off of the sticky carpet. He still couldn't remember the word he'd wanted to say.

Just as a mass of shifting colors and urgent voices and bright, bright light appeared in the doorway, Mariano turned his face away and the darkness swallowed him.

[sunshinetemptress93]

Behind The Mask

A Harry Styles one shot

Welcome to Behind The Mask! A one shot for the new year thanks to two amazing friends who cooked up the idea. This will have smut, obviously, but nothing too harsh that I think would need a trigger warning. There's some hair pulling and pinning down but that's it.

Hope you enjoy!

*****

"Large cappuccino with 2% for Mary!" My tiny voice isn't heard for the third time calling out another order that's been ready for 10 minutes. I try and peer around the mass of people standing at the counter, frustrated that this cup of coffee is getting cold. "Hello! Mary!? Large cap-"

"Mine." A middle aged woman pushes through the bodies in front of me and snags her red paper coffee cup. "Have a nice day."I grumble under my breath.

Another day covered in milk splatter, Carmel syrup, and coffee grinds is how I spend my Sunday morning at Urban Bean coffee shop. I feel like I live in this building for how often I work, but I don't really mind it. It's not exactly my dream job, but until I finish my masters degree in biomedical engineering, serving grumpy middled aged stock brokers and socialites from the upper west side is my life six days a week.

I knew the big move to New York was going to be tough but with my best friend Davina by my side, i wasn't scared in the slightest. She made sure to show me the ropes once I landed on her doorstep that hot June evening; she was my savior in more ways than one. Helping me blossom after a bad breakup with my ex, graduating college with nothing but 20 bucks in my pocket and a need to escape Georgia, Davina took me under her wing without hesitation.

Six months in and I felt a little more in the groove of the big city life, and with 3 weeks off of school, I was really getting to know my new home. Spending lots of time in museums, reading poetry in the park, and finally mastering the subway system, I was almost passing as a native New Yorker.

Well, in my head at least I was. That was until I opened my mouth and the Georgia southern drawl and incessant need to call everyone ma'am and sir no matter their age gave me away.

"S'cuse me." A man's deep voice laced with a British accent breaks me from my inner thoughts. He stood across from the counter in a very expensive looking red wool sweater and brown corduroy trousers. His crystal clear green eyes pierced through me, softened with kindness. "Sorry, yes what can I get you!" He smiled at me when I acknowledged him which is a rarity in this city. "Can I just have a coffee?"

"Any cream or sugar?"

"No thank you."

I nod and plug in his order. "that'll be $.6.25." The man hands me a 20 dollar bill so I open the till to get him his change. He raises his hand and shakes his head, a curl falling forward and into his eyes. "I don't need any change."

Wow. No one ever tips. Especially more than 2 bucks.

"Thank ya sir!" I set the change into the tip jar next to the register. "Itll be a few minutes."

"No worries, I'm in no hurry, love."

It was strange having someone speak more than 4 words to me here, that north east attitude not being a myth here. But of course by his accent, he is not from here. Preparing a few other beverages ahead of his, I hand them off to the other patrons. It's strange, but I could feel his eyes watching me the whole time. It didn't make me uncomfortable though, a nice change of pace from the predatory gazes I get from most men.

Finally getting to his, I pour from a fresh pot into our signature red paper cups and cover it with a lid. Turning back around, he was still standing at the counter, "here ya go!" He takes the cup from my grip, fingers grazing my own. I notice his fingers adorned with a slew of rings; a gorgeous gold lion head and one with what looked to be a bird, a robin I think. They looked expensive. He must come from money.

He didn't act like some of the other guys that looked well off that were around his age, but I wasn't complaining. "Thank you..." his eyes cast down at my name tag, "Iris. Pretty name."

My cheeks felt warm at his words, "um thank you! Have a great day!"

His gaze stayed on me longer than I expected, inspecting me almost. "See you 'round, Iris." The mystery man turns on his heels and saunters out of the coffee shop leaving me feeling stunned by his beauty. People seemed to step aside as me walked past, creating his pathway to the exit. He had a precise that was impossible to ignore. He exits the double glass doors and turns, locks eyes with me once more and winks.

He was beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking.

"Um hello??" A nasally voice cuts through. "Where is my latte!"

Jesus, Mary and Joseph...

"Comin' right up sir."

*****

"Iris!!!" The front door clicks open and is slammed shut as Davina hollers from the doorway, excitement ringing through. "Come here!"

I close my book, climb off my bed, and pad down the hallway. "Yes, dear?" Standing in the kitchen she was clutching a small black card in her hand, bouncing up and down on her heels. "Get dressed. We're going shopping."  

"Whyyy?" I ask skeptically.

"Becauseeee..." she races over to me smiling from ear to ear. "We need to find an outfit for the most prestigious party of the year."

Panic sets in. I was not one for parties. I also wasn't one for socializing unless it's absolutely required, like a birthday party or second cousins wedding which I still didn't always enjoy, but I would attend out of obligation. I love my alone time with a good book, curled up in my room with my fur baby Luna, listening to my favorite indie playlist in peace. I couldn't stop the groan that escapes my lips. I lean against the edge of the counter and sigh, "Davina I wanted to stay in! You know, pajamas and movies with you and Luna." Anxiety builds inside of my chest at the thought of some wild party with a hundred strangers.

She rolls her eyes, "Iris come on, you've been here for six months and haven't been out hardly at all."

Davina was much more into the night life than i ever was. When we met in college, she was the one out all night making wild memories with her sorority sisters while I had my butt planted in the library as often as i could. Don't get me wrong, I did have some experiences while in college, but a wild night out was never my thing. Being the last of five kids, I was raised with traditional values and lots of rules, so branching out and navigating life outside of what my parents taught me was not an option while living under their roof. My entire adolescent life consisted of church every Sunday, no dating, and god forbid I try and wear make up that made me look like... wait, how did my father put it? A trashy whore? 

Yeah, that sounds right. 

I went into college like a scared little bird that was shoved out of the nest when they weren't ready, stumbling around not having a clue what direction was up, waiting to be picked off. It was a game of survival of the fittest and I was the weakest of prey.

The massive adjustment period I went through learning who I was outside of the box of conservative ideals I was born into wasn't the easiest. I'd always been the one who didn't want to conform to the idea set in place that women go to college for one thing and one thing only: to find a husband. I wanted more from life. I craved knowledge and growth, and my parents were disappointed to say the least when they discovered I wasn't going to marry my boyfriend fresh out of college. They adored him, probably more than me, but little did they know he was the farthest thing from a gentleman.

Then I met Davina in an advance statistics class my freshman year. She was the kind of big sister I truly needed. She always looked out for me and taught me how to stand up for what i deserved. She pushed me to find out who I was outside of the only version of myself I knew at the time.

"Iris, I want you to experience New York the right way! Stay out all night, drink too much champagne, make out with a hot guy! You're 24 years old, now start living like you are." Davina twirled the end of her curls around her perfectly manicured seafoam green nails. "I'm not taking no for an answer." She states.

Well shit.

"So... what's the hype." I sigh in defeat.

Her coffee colored eyes light up immediately. "Every New Year's Eve there's a strict invite only shindig thrown for people in the entertainment industry. Working in PR, there's always a chance our agency is selected. The person who throws it never reveals themselves, but it's the most anticipated event of the year. I found the invitation on my desk today and you're going to be my plus one. Pleeeease?"

Picking at cuticles I contemplate my options: do I finally let loose and have a true blue New Year's Eve with my best friend or do I hold up in the apartment and hide away from whatever was out there waiting for me? Her brown eyes beg silently until I finally decide to cave. I can't say no to Davina when she begs like a toddler who wants one more cookie before dinner.

"Ok. I'll go."

she places the card down on the counter top and grabs my hand, "thank you thank you! Now let's get you out of your house slippers, put on your happy face, and let's go find something hot to wear."

*****

Shopping sucks ass, I've never been a fan. With too many options that cost too much money it was such a deterrent, and yet when i walked into that little boutique and my eyes landed on the most beautiful dress to wear, I was done for. A slinky chain mail mini dress that settled at the top of my thighs, perfect for whatever tonight was going to bring. It was the only one on the rack, it was my size, and it was on sale.

It was as if it was made for me for this exact night. I knew right then and there it was fate.

Touching up the last of my hair with the flat iron, Davina saunters into my bathroom in the hottest outfit I'd ever seen her in. Adorned in head to toe white glittery trousers, a matching blazer, and a sequined bra top underneath that complimented her figure perfectly.

She eyes me up and down and smirks, "we are so going to be the hottest two there tonight."

"You're absolutely right." Running my hands through my straightened locks, I assess how I looked. I felt hot.

Davina insisted on scattered little stars across my left cheekbone and around my eye for the final touch, which seemed unnecessary since this was a masquerade themed party, but what Davina says goes.

"You'll be removing your mask anyways at midnight, so it'll just add some extra pizzazz!" Davina pinches my cheek and taps the tip of my nose. "You about ready?"

"'Mhm!" I grab my lip gloss and my black mask adorned with beads and feathers. "Let's get this party started!"

An Uber waited for us downstairs so we race out of our apartment hand in hand ready to paint the town.

Davinas words, not mine. She's quite eccentric, and she was determined to make this night one to remember.

The ride was long, about an hour from our apartment far away from the major city lights and chaos that New Year's Eve brings. Turning down a narrow dirt road, a vacant building appears ahead. Large empty spaces where windows once stood illuminated in hues of blue and purple lights. The closer we got, the more apparent the jagged pieces of glass around the frames became. The perimeter was bordered with dilapidated wire fencing like this place had been abandoned for decades. It gave me the creeps. "D, if you get me murdered out here I swear to god-"

A huff leaves her, "Iris, take a Prozac and calm down."

I shove her shoulder playfully, "I don't take Prozac.... I take Lexapro and not enough anti anxiety meds in the world will make me calm right now."

"I promise it's going to be incredible. I went to the one last year and when I tell you it was the best night of my life," Davina fans herself and whistles. Always with the theatrics. "just trust me."

The car comes to a bumpy halt and thrown into park. "You ladies have fun and be safe!"

"Thanks again!" Davina hollers as we stumble out of the back seat onto the gravel road. Wearing stilettos was probably not very practical out here but hey, you live and you learn. "Don't break an ankle tonight, got it?" Davina teases.

"Oh fuck off!" I scoff.

The air was icy and the wind was wild, a typical New York winter night. Goosebumps covered my exposed flesh so we race up to what looks to be the front door, large dark gray steel being the main barrier between me and a wild night. The music was booming so loud the metal was making the slightest rattling sound. Before I could utter a word, it creaks open sinisterly slow and a tall blonde woman in a tight green velvet dress slips out. "Welcome." Her voice was low and sultry. "Please put on your masks."

Davina and I simultaneously tie our masks across our eyes, adding to the veil of mystery and suspense.

The woman shines a satisfying smile, "enjoy the night and don't forget, those masks do not come off until midnight." She pushes the door open a few feet more and gestures her slender arm inward allowing us entry. The warehouse was illuminated with flashing colorful lights painting the 32 foot concrete walls. There were multiple levels to the inside of this place, covered in the most elaborate decor. Acrobats hung from enormous hoops, contorting their bodies in the most fascinating shapes. Fire eaters were entertaining a group of onlookers on the main stage and house music bass rattling the inside of my chest.

The safety of my mask made me feel more confident in such a foreign place, bringing out a side I didn't know I had buried deep inside. I was enthralled with the visuals around me. I can't believe I almost said no. It made me feel free.

A man in full tuxedo garb approached us with a tray of champagne flutes, offering two to us. Alcohol was flowing, bodies grinding, and the air felt heavy in the best way.

"This is incredible." I mutter.

Davina leans over and pecks me on the cheek, "I told you lovey. Now let's go party."

*****

I'd never experienced anything like this before in my life, and I think I'm addicted to it. My anxiety was gone completely as the hours ticked by, three glasses of champagne will have that effect.

Propping myself against the bar, I waited for the bartender's attention when a presence next to me makes itself known. "Having fun?"

"M'sorry?" Turning to my left a stoic gentleman dressed in a deep green suit with a lighter green satin button down underneath was standing incredibly close to me. "I asked If you're having fun." His mask was matte black; simple, stylish, but covered almost his entire face. He was unrecognizable. His voice sounded relatively familiar, but i could barely recall where I'd heard it before. I cleared my throat, "um yeah i am! This is the coolest party I've ever been to." The man shoots me a soft smile, "good. M'glad. What are you drinking?"

"Vodka cran."

He nods and leans over the bar grabbing a bottle of vodka and a glass. "Um I don't think you're supposed to do that." I state. Pouring a shot, he places the bottle down on the shiny black bar top and proceeds to find a bottle of cranberry juice. "Don't worry, Chase won't mind." He seemed... too comfortable doing this right now.

Sliding my fresh drink to my waiting hand, I thank him. His gaze scans my mask, then down the length of my body. He goes to say something when another body next to me knocks into my back, spilling some of my drink. "Hey!" I scold. Turning around I'm met with a man who's barely able to stand up on his own two feet. His gaze lingers on my breast and he smirks. "Sorry hot stuff... you here with anyone? Because I could keep you company if you need." He slurs. He reeked of tequila, musty cologne, and smoke.

"Umm." My words fail me. Typical.

He was making me uncomfortable with the closer he got. "I'm sorry... I-"

"Hey mate, back off alright?" The mystery man who poured my drink stands next to me, hand laying gently on my shoulder. "She's with me." His voice was firm. Not possessive, but territorial, "you can go now."

The drunk raises his hands in surrender, "Sorry. I didn't know." He takes a few steps back and disappears into the crowd. I turn up and look at my knight in shining armor. "Thanks, you didn't have to do that."

He shrugs, "seemed like you needed some assistance there. And..." he points his finger past me, "I was not leaving you with that guy. Seemed like a situation that could have easily gone wrong."

I let out a sigh of relief, "You're right about that. Why do men have to be like that?"

"It's a shame. Men like that give the rest of us a bad reputation."

"Well you're my savior tonight." I smile at him and he smiles back. "Wanna grab a seat?" He asks.

"Sure thing." He takes my hand and leads me to a section of velvet red couches, secluded a tad from the mass of people raging around us. He guides me to sit down first and then he nestled in next to me. Not too close, but not too far. He was sort of cautious with his movements, like they were thought out meticulously.

"So what's your name? What brings you here?" He asks.

Twirling the straw in my glass I hum, "I thought this party was all about mystery?"

He chuckles under his breath, "Well since it's my party, I think I'm allowed to break the rules a tad."

My heart was pounding, my hands became sweaty around my cold glass. Whoever this was, he's important enough to have these infamous parties and still remain anonymous.

"We'll just use fake names to keep some mystery. How's that sound?" He presses.

"Ummm. Sure. I'll be...Eloise." I extend my hand to shake his and he follows suit. I'll be...Gary."

Without giving too much of himself away, he let it be known he's involved in the music business. Producing, writing, performing, even has his own label that he refused to tell me the name of.

Damn anonymity.

I was so curious about him, but I know this would be all I'd get. At least he was kind and from what I could tell from his physique quite attractive. He had an energy about him that felt safe, unlike most of the men in attendance who jump right into gross comments about my body and unwanted touch. He never crossed a line with me without invitation. The ball was in my court the whole time.

He gave me his undivided attention when I spoke, and as the night went on, we got more comfortable with each other. His finger traced circles on my arm slung over the back of the couch sending shockwaves through my body with each drag. The longer I sat here, the more I desperately wanted to know who he was.

Before we knew it, a giant screen rolled down from the ceiling with a clock ticking down to midnight. 1 minute appeared above us and everyone began to cheer. Gary looks up for a moment and back down at me, licking his lips. "1 minute." He murmurs. "Think you'll still find me interesting once the masks are removed?"

I quirk my lips to the side, pretending to have to think about it. "Hmmm I dunno. I mean that's part of the appeal right? Once the mask is off the fun kind of ends."

He leans forward and lowers his lips to my ear, "the fun can definitely continue, love, if you want it to."

Recognition slaps me in the face and I pull back from him. "Wait." I stutter.

Panic flashes across his eyes, "M'sorry I didn't mean to-"

I wave my hands at him, letting him know it wasn't what he was insinuating. "No, no it's not that! It's just... I think we've met before? The coffee shop?"

His mouth falls open in shock, "Wait... today?"

I nod nervously.

He unties the back of his mask and pulls it down slowly. Once fully out of the way, my stomach drops. "Oh my goodness." I couldn't believe it. Of all the people I meet tonight, it's the gorgeous man that stood before me 12 hours ago. "Iris, wasn't it?" He asks, voice raising an octave .

I smile and pull off the ties of my own mask. "You are correct. Now what's your real name so this can feel less weird?" I laugh.

"Harry. The names Harry." His smile widened as he spoke, "I can't believe this."

"Neither can I!"

10... 9... 8...

The two of us stare at one another completely dumbfounded at the chances of the two of us crossing paths a second time in one day.

7... 6... 5...

"My offer still stands. Wanna get outta here?"

4... 3... 2...

"Yes." I answer without hesitation.

1! Happy new year!!

Confetti explodes from the ceiling and cascades all around us, covering us both in shiny pieces of glistening silver. The pyrotechnics on the main stage light up the vast space making it easier to see him now, and holy moly was he even more beautiful in this setting than before. He leans forward at the same time as me, our lips connecting without hesitation. He tasted of mint and whiskey, lips soft and supple. The kiss was brief, but heavenly. I break from him for a second knowing I'll want to devour him right here on this couch if we continued.

Harry's eyes land on my lips, tucking his own bottom one between his teeth. "Let's get outta here."

*****

I made sure to find Davina before leaving with Harry, letting her know I'd keep my location on and get home safely. She praised my willingness to go home with some random guy telling me how proud she was. Funny thing to be proud of but hey, she wanted me to have a proper New Year's Eve and this was apparently the way to do it.

Harry had a car drive us back to the city, a silver Escalade with blackout windows, blocking us from the outside world. He had a very hard time keeping his hands to himself but I was definitely ok with it. I found myself strangling his lap, making out heavily with no concern for the driver. I'd never done anything like this before, but it was thrilling. Harry's large hands stayed on my hips, ever so gently rubbing his thumbs on my hip bones.

The driver clears his throat to get his attention, "Mr. Styles, we're here." Harry pats the side of my leg to stop my attack on his neck. "Hey, let's go inside." He whispers.

With the car now no longer moving, realization of how uncomfortable this driver must feel right now hits me. "Ohh umm ok, sorry." I giggle.

Harry shakes his head and pinches my side. "Don't worry about it."

I swing my legs off Harry's lap and climb out of the car. He thanks the man and says goodbye before walking me up the stone steps to the front door of a gorgeous brownstone that took my breath away. He leads me up the steps, unlocks his door, and enters behind me. Shutting the door and securing the lock, Harry grips my wrist and spins me around. I gasp when I collide with his heaving chest, pupils dilated fully. "Now..." his index finger trails down my throat. "Where were we?"

He connects our lips once more with a sense of urgency. His tongue grazes my top lip and slides between them, a whiny moan escaping me. With my hands on his chest, I begin to unbutton the rest of his dress shirt. Harry walks backwards into the house towards the living room, shrugging off his jacket and shirt in one swift move, never separating his mouth from mine. I couldn't help but glance at his physique that was now on full display, clenching my thighs together at the site. His body was decorated with blank ink, abs so defined you'd think he was hand sculpted by Michelangelo himself. "Fuck.." I utter under my breath.

His hands grip my dress in handfuls, humming to himself. "Think you need to get more comfortable, darling." His fingers tug at the hem of my dress, so I raise my arms for him to pull it over my head. It lands on his hardwood floors with a thud and clink, leaving me in just my dark green satin thong. I cross my arms over my bare chest out of habit, but Harry's hands settle on my forearms. "No need to hide, Iris" he utters. He kisses my lips once, my left cheek twice, then my right. "Embrace your beauty. Let me admire it." I pull my bottom lip between my teeth nervously and lower my arms to his hips.

His mouth travels down my jawline and sucks slightly at my throat. "Fuckin' perfection." He moans.

Allowing him to take full control, he lays me down on the sectional, slotting his knee between my legs. The sexual tension building was becoming painfully unbearable. My hands travel to his belt and undo it as fast as possible. Harry kicks them off and onto the floor, the outline of his erection visible beneath his underwear. Hovering above me once more I pull his hips down to connect with my core. I desperately needed relief from the teasing in the back of the car.

If I didn't get fucked soon I was going to explode.

My hips roll against his cock, a moan vibrating against my mouth. Harry's hands find their way down my stomach and between my legs where I needed him most. The pads of his fingers run over the material of my thong making me shudder. "Mmm you're soaked already, I've barely touched you."

His hand pulls my thong to the side to gain better access to my clit, adding the perfect amount of pressure with his index and middle finger around my most sensitive bundle of nerves. I cry out in pleasure, head thrown back in bliss. His fingers sink into me to stretch me out and curl just right, that all too familiar knot forming quicker than I expected. Harry lowers his head down to my left breast and flicks his tongue over my hardened nipple over and over again. He knew exactly what he was doing because in a matter of minutes, the bubble in my tummy was about to burst. The way my body reacted to just his hands, I couldn't wait for what was in store. A string of curse words fall from my lips needing to come so badly, but Harry had other plans. He pulls his fingers out of me quickly, making my gasp at the loss of fullness. I furrowed my brows at him, a little irritated. "Don't frown, I'll take care of you, promise." Harry takes his now soaked fingers between his lips, sucking them clean. Jesus he's sexy... "you better because that was a mean thing you just did."

Harry bends down and pulls a condom out of his wallet on the floor, discards his briefs, and tears it open with his teeth. "Don't you worry, love. I won't be mean any longer." Pumping himself a few times before rolling the condom down his shaft, I took in the size of what I'd be working with and felt a flood of nerves course through my veins.

Don't be a little wimp, Iris.

Harry nestles himself between my thighs once more, propping his weight up on his left arm, lining himself up at my opening. "You wanna stop at any moment, let me know, yeah?" I nod in response but he cocks his head at it. "Words, Iris. Need to hear yes."

My heart clenched at his need for verbal consent. "Yes. I understand. We stop when I want to. Same goes for you." I confirm.

With that, Harry pushes into me slowly, giving me a moment to adjust to the difference of his fingers verses his cock. I gasp and grip his shoulders tightly, feeling that wonderful burning sensation that I love so much. His strokes were fluid and slow, taking in every flutter of my walls around his massive length. "Oh my god..." I squeal.

Finding the perfect rhythm, Harry leans down and nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck. "So fuckin' good." He moans. Hot, opened mouth kisses trail across my throat while his hips snap into me harder and harder. My impending orgasm was creeping in once more, and there was no way I was going to let it be stopped again. "Right there, please don't stop..."

"Didn't plan on it, love."

The sound of slapping skin and primal moans echo around us, simultaneously chasing our peak. I pull his face to mine, needing to taste his lips again. Hitching my leg up more, Harry picked up the pace and tugged on my right nipple this time, sending a shock of electricity down my spine and making me unravel beneath him. A guttural cry leaves my chest, my orgasm hit me like a freight train. He smirks as I come. And I come hard. "Fuck, give it to me baby, come on." Due to his size and speed of strokes my orgasm felt never ending. The more he fucked me the longer it went. It was the best one I'd ever had, and that includes ones I'd given myself.

My body trembles underneath him as I come back down from my high, my chest heaving and head dizzy. I open my eyes and see Harry admiring me. "You're so pretty when you come."

I hum in satisfaction wanting more from him. I chew my bottom lip before I open my mouth. "can I..."

"Yes?" He says.

"Get on top?"

Harry quirks his brow, "Wanna give me one more?"

I nod shyly, "I can try."

Harry pulls out of me slowly and repositioned on the couch, pulling me onto his lap. Sinking down on him feeling full once more, I don't hesitate to roll my hips back and forth in a slow fluid motion. Harry's eyes roll to the back of his head and his mouth gapes open. This position was way more pleasurable for me, and I was glad he was open to it. Some men don't like having women on top. Apparently it makes them feel like they're not in control.

Harry's large hands pull my hips back and in forth the longer we go, stimulating my clit perfectly. Our bodies were coated in a sheen layer of sweat, his own curls sticking to his forehead. "I'm gonna come soon..." he whines.

Changing up the rhythm I use my knees to bounce up and down which sends Harry right over the edge of bliss. "Oh fuck, that's it!" He hollers through deep groans, thrusting up into me chasing that oh so euphoric high. My second orgasm came as a surprise

causing me to still on top of him. I cling to his shoulders and throw my head back as I come for the second time in 20 minutes and Harry following suit right after. His thrusts become sloppy and erratic as he comes undone underneath me, face turning bright red and brows knit tightly together. It was a beautiful sight to witness; so primal and enchanting.

Catching our breath, we lazily kiss one another for a few minutes, like we couldn't get enough. He was back to being gentle and sensual, a vast difference from how fervent and powerful we were fucking just now. Harry brushes my mess of hair out of my eyes and smiles at me. "Well that was something." He chuckles.

"That's one way to put it." I kiss his forehead and lift off of him, in search of my dress and underwear. I wasn't sure what to do now that I just fucked a random dude from a party, I've never done this. I collect my things and turn to see Harry putting his briefs back on, condom discarded. "Umm. So I'll call myself and Uber and get out do your hair." I begin to walk quickly past him when he stops me. He looks at me confused, "You don't have to leave. You can stay."

I halt my pace, "what?"

"I mean, if you want to. I wouldn't ask you to leave. I've got plenty of comfortable clothes you can sleep in. Could even make you breakfast if you'd like..?" He runs his hand through his hair and fluffs his nose with his knuckle. "No pressure, but you don't have to leave."

I contemplate for a moment if it was normal to stay after what was a textbook one night stand, but he was offering so...

"Ok. Yeah, I'll stay." Satisfied with that, Harry shows me up to the bedroom and bathroom to shower and get comfortable. He let me use his master while he showered down the hall. Once I'd washed off the night and dressed in a pair of his shorts and t shirt, I enter his bedroom where he'd made himself comfortable. "Do you... want me to sleep in here or.."

"Yeah If you'd like." he gives me a genuine smile, dimples popping out and waves me over. I pad over to his king size bed and climb in, sinking down into the plush duvet. We spent a while talking and getting to know one another a bit more until we both eventually fell asleep curled up facing each other. Davina wanted me to have a night I'd never forget, and I think I definitely accomplished just that.

*****

The next morning I wake to the smell of bacon being fried, coffee brewing, and the sound light rock music playing.

I make my way down the creaky old staircase and find Harry was cooking up a storm. It was a bit of a split level so I made my way up the two steps and around the island when I discover he is wearing a Christmas apron, tube socks, and nothing else. "Ummm Harry?" I ask trying to hide my giggles.

"Iris?" He mimics.

"You're not wearing any clothes."

"Yes I know." He smirks. "More fun this way. Breakfast is almost ready, grab a seat and I'll bring you coffee." He gestured for me to sit down on one of his wooden barstools. I do as I'm told and watch him move around the kitchen almost stark naked. He has the cutest ass I'd ever seen. Firm, plump, and delicious. He made sure to always find a reason to have his ass facing me the whole time he was cooking, shaking it around when an up beat song came on. The Christmas apron was the cherry on top of this whole thing.

I hadn't laughed this hard or had this much fun is so long.

He was vastly different from any other man I'd met, making him ten times more attractive to me. I didn't think witnessing him cooking naked in an apron would be a turn on, but the longer he stayed that way the more I wanted him again. Flirty looks over the shoulder were thrown my way when he'd bend over and reach for a pan or reach up into a cabinet for the plates. 

He was taunting me.

Harry places a plate of food in front of me, standing dangerously close. "You hungry?" He utters under his breath, right behind my ear. I turn in my chair and gaze up at him, his pupils partially dilated, emitting a hunger that can't be satiated with food. "In more ways than one thanks to you prancing around here with your ass out."

I reach around his back and tug at the ties of his apron. The taut material around his figure loosens and he pulls it over his head. I bite my lip when I see he's half hard already. "We should do something about that don't cha think?" I coo.

"I've got a few ideas." His words came out smooth as silk, desire dripping from each syllable. Harry's index finger grazes my cheek, trailing down to my chin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. I couldn't help but flutter my eyes closed in anticipation, his touch igniting a heat between my legs. His hands travel down my clothed chest and slide underneath my shirt to cup my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers. My legs instinctually spread for him, allowing him to step between my thighs. His lips encompass my own, swallowing my moans.  I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me.

I was so turned on just by his hands I could have come right then and there.

He hardened fully as I ran my hand up and down his shaft, paying special attention to his tip collecting his precum on my thumb. Harry's lips part in pleasure as I pump him faster and faster, sucking in a sharp breath with each twist. Pulling my head back from him, I raise my thumb and suck the taste of him off of it, humming to myself. Harry watches me in awe. "Fuckin' hell..." he whimpers. He swiftly picks me up from the barstool and carries me over to the kitchen table that thankfully had nothing on it.

He yanks the shorts he let me borrow off of my body, kneeling down in front of me. Throwing my legs over his shoulders he tuts at the sight before him. "You've made quite a mess here, darling. Looks like I'm gonna have to clean it up." Without warning his mouth latches to my clit and sucks harshly.  I gasp at the sensation of Harry's scruff brushing against my smooth skin. His tongue sinks into me, lapping up my arousal like i was his last meal.

With every swirl of his tongue and brush of his nose, my entire body was buzzing.  Creeping closer to the edge, Harry sucks harshly on my clit making me grind against his face. throwing my head back I couldn't hold back the whines and moans leaving my lips. Each grunt he emitted vibrated against my throbbing clit bringing my orgasm to its peak. "oh fuck!!". My thighs squeeze around his head involuntarily and shake violently. I don't know how this man makes me come so quickly.

The shocks of my body subside and Harry yanks his face away from me and stands. "Lemme get a condom, I need to fuck you so bad." Harry reaches for his apron on the ground behind him and digs out a condom from the front pocket.

"You were so sure we'd go again you had one in there this whole time?" I tease. Harry shrugs playfully and places the condom on. "Hopeful thinking that's all." Connecting our mouths again i wrap my legs around his waist, "You're lucky you're so darn cute." Harry pushes into me fully this time, not easing inch by inch this time. The sense of urgency to tear into each other was evident in his more dominant approach compared to last night. My nails dig into his shoulder blades and scratch down his arms, leaving red marks in their wake. "God you feel so good wrapped around me, best I've ever had." I try to roll my hips against him but he was fucking me senseless there was no use. I let him use me however he saw fit.

He pulls my hair back causing me to yelp at the stinging sensation on my scalp. "Fuck do that again."

He yanks again, making me clench around his cock. His arm wrapped around the middle of my back and lifts me up off the table still buried deep inside. Harry carries me down the steps of his kitchen finding the couch once more. Stumbling down to the cushions Harry begins slamming his hips into me again and again, pinning my wrists over my head. The tight grip around my wrists added to the heightened bliss of being ruined by the most gorgeous man I'd never seen.

"Fuck I'm gonna come again, don't stop." I beg with tears brimming on my lash-line.  "Please don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it." His free hand snakes between us and rubs my clit furiously, making the knot in my tummy explode. I see nothing but white behind my eyelids as I come harder with each manic thrust, Harry's orgasm following right behind. His body stills and his legs tremble, grip slipping from my wrists. Even with the barrier of a condom I could feel him twitching inside of me and finally stilling. My legs loosen around him falling to the side, arms laying lazily around his neck, "God you're good at that." I pant. Harry groans and pulls out of me, making me wince. He bends down and runs his tongue up my folds making me squirm.

"Hmm someone's sensitive."

"Yeah no shit, Sherlock." I sit up fully while he sits back against the couch. "You work up an appetite, darling?" There was amusement in his tone, I roll my eyes playfully. "Oh shut up." I stand from the couch and take his hand, "Stop workin' blue and let's eat."

*****

Fully dressed once more and happily full from the massive breakfast Harry prepared, he walks me to the door with a driver waiting to take me home. He leans against the door frame, arms crossed over his bare chest. "Last night was fun. You have my number?" He asks.

I smirk and nod, "Well you putting it in my phone would indicate that I do." I tug at the shirt he let me borrow and a pair of sweats. "I'll get these back to ya."

"You can bring them when I take you on a proper date."  Harry leans down and pecks my lips, "how about Saturday after next? I'll be back in town by then."

I hum happily, "That sounds great."

Harry pulls my bottom lip with his thumb, "I'll call you." I nip at his thumb, capturing it between my teeth.  Harry groans and shakes his head, "Do that again and I'll have to fuck you right here in front of my driver."

"Hmm sounds like fun. Next time?"

Harry exhales sharply, "You're gonna ruin me."

*****

[icleanedthisplate]

Dine-Out Meals of January 2024, Ranked

I ranked the following based on taste alone. I made no consideration for ambiance or the general dining experience or whatever. I included meals I got to go. I included food trucks, catered meals, and fast food.

A solid showing by restaurants in Huntsville, Alabama and Wichita, Kansas this month.

Should you be interested in the pictures or reading the few words I had to say about each meal, click on the home page and scroll down or see the archives.

Cream of Asparagus Soup, Artisanal Cheese Platter (shared), Pan-Seared Gulf Yellowfin Tuna. The Bottle Restaurant. Huntsville, Alabama. 1.10.2024.

Combo Marino, Plantains, Flan. Gabby’s Peruvian Restaurant. Wichita, Kansas. 1.25.2024.

Italian Beef Bene, Cinnamon Roll (shared). Raduno. Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.14.2023.

Beetroot Salad, Salmon, Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp. The Revivalist. Huntsville, Alabama. 1.11.2024.

Pork Ribs w/Collard Greens, Mac & Cheese, Banana Pudding. Wright’s BBQ. Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.4.2024.

Jinya Bun, Jinya Tonkotsu Black. Jinya Ramen Bar. Wichita, Kansas. 1.24.2024.

Tuna Tacos, Pan Seared Black Seabass, Curry Duck Breast, Poblano Mac & Cheese Casserole, Honey Soy Brussels, Sticky Toffee Cake (shared all). Table 28. Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.13.2024.

Bleu Burger w/Duck Fat Fries. Dempsey’s Burger Pub (Clifton Square). Wichita, Kansas. 1.23.2024.

Feta James, Mr. Nice Guy, Apple of My Eye (shared dessert). Leverett Lounge. Fayetteville, Arkansas. 1.17.2024.

Harissa Avocado Bowl. CAVA. Fayetteville, Arkansas. 1.17.2024.

Assorted Sushi Rolls (Rainbow, California, etc.). Fujiyama Express. North Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.19.2024.

Local Mix w/Grilled Chicken. Urban Cookhouse. Huntsville, Alabama. 1.12.2024.

Baleada Con Todo w/Carnitas. El Sur Street Food Co. Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.8.2024.

BLT-AE Sandwich w/Grilled Veggies, Jolly Green Juice. HomeGrown. Wichita, Kansas. 1.26.2024.

Chicken Scratch Salad w/Rotisserie. Waldo’s Chicken & Beer. Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.6.2024.

Grilled Salmon (Snappy) w/Grilled Veggies, Rice & Beans. Flying Fish. Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.19.2024.

Shrimp w/rice, Steamed Veggies. La Chingada. Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.5.2024.

Egg White Grill, Yogurt w/Fruit. Chick-fil-A. Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.10.2024.

Petit Jean Ranch Salad (to go). Zaza Fine Salad & Wood Oven Pizza Co. Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.22.2024.

Bacon Cheeseburger w/Onions & Mushrooms, Fries. Vanilla Milkshake. CJ’s Butcher Burger Boy. Russellville, Arkansas. 1.18.2024.

Green Chile Stew, Crispy Ahi Tuna Taco. Local Lime. Rogers, Arkansas. 1.23.2024.

Tortilla Soup. Chuy’s Chuy’s. Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.20.2024.

Whipped Feta & Prosciutto App (shared), Salad Lyonnaise. Wild Fork. Tulsa, Oklahoma. 1.26.2024.

Chicken Livers w/Okra, Mashed Potatoes, English Peas. Cindy’s Place. Corinth, Mississippi. 1.10.2024.

Grilled State Bird Sandwich w/Fries. Hill Station. Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.31.2024.

Chicken Salad Sandwich w/Chips. McAlister’s Deli. Wichita, Kansas. 1.24.2024.

Ark-Mex Enchiladas w/Tomato-Cucumber-Mint Salad, Pinto Beans. Heights Taco & Tamale. Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.30.2023.

Yogurt & Granola w/Fruit Compote. Mylo Coffee Co. Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.31.2024.

Fattoush Salad w/Salmon. Meddys. Wichita, Kansas. 1.25.2024.

Green Goddess Salad. Newk’s. Fayetteville, Arkansas. 1.18.2024

Ham & Cheese Croissant. Starbucks. Conway, Arkansas. 1.17.2024.

Ham & Cheese Croissant. Starbucks. Wichita, Kansas. 1.25.2024.

Ham & Cheese Croissant. Starbucks. Fayetteville, Arkansas. 1.18.2024. (No photo)

Meat & Cheese Plate (shared), Pork Ribs w/Beans, Slaw. Charlie Vergo’s Rendezvous. Memphis, Tennessee. 1.12.2024.

Bangkok Noodles w/Shrimp. Bangkok Thai Cuisine. Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.3.2024.

Ham & Cheese Croissant. Starbucks. Wichita, Kansas. 1.24.2024.

Ham & Cheese Croissant. Starbucks. Conway, Arkansas. 1.23.2024.

Red Pepper Sous Vide Egg Bites. Starbucks. Huntsville, Alabama. 1.11.2024.

[mediocre-daydreams]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧: ask me any question/let's play some common tumblr games!

cym as different holidays! 💗

11 holidays for 11 mutuals!

christmas (dec 25) is @sw34terw34ther : i always see you chatting with your mutuals! you seem like the person who hosts the best holiday parties and can make their own seasonal drinks. plus with that voice of yours, i could totally see you going carolling. getting tagged in your posts is like a little christmas present.

new year's day (jan 1) is @sub-text : bro is my fucking favorite. i would clean up bottles with you on new year's day. you're so nice it makes me want to cry. i always get sentimental on new years and your writing makes me so sappy and soft bro. you write with such dedication to detail and i can't get enough of it. when i tell you my entire world reset after reading "the bet," i'm sirius serious.

valentine's day (feb 14) is @fairydxll : thanks for this ask btw! imma be honest i tried to urban dictionary what cym was but i'm hoping i got it right and it's "cast your mutuals." (UD was no help i used tumblr.) anyway, you're pink, sparkly, and precious, and you quite literally sent me a heart. i envison you as just the sweetest person ever.

johnny appleseed day (march 11) is @emmaev : i love this johnny dude. tbh no clue if he's real, but as a kid i read a book about him and it was great plus you make me just as happy as i feel when i'm apple picking. you're so insanely supportive and kind and seem down-to-earth and i think johnny would admire your thoughtfulness.

april fool's day (april 1) is @yourallihave : my tumblr wife, obviously. i appreciate you so much. your blog is bright pink and spunky, seeing your name in my notifs always makes me smile, and you have the rare ability to actually make me laugh from something i read online. not just one of those huffs or snorts, yknow?

may day (may 1) is @prettylestrange : colorful hair, colorful blog, and glowing personality. you're like the epitome of spring. i've only ever seen american may day, but it's always full of floral skirts, flower crowns, and the pole with the ribbons and stuff and if midsommar weren't a horror movie, you'd be the may queen.

national apple strudel day (june 17) is @forourmoons : (*said like timothee chalamet in don't look up*) i fucking love apple struedel just likei fucking love you. i'm your biggest fan. you're so talented and you're so interactive with everyone that it feels like you're the perfect flaky pastry crust gordon ramsey would approve of.

national bagelfest day (july 26) is @vendettaparker : if i have extra time in the morning, i'll sit down and grab a bagel before school. your writing is so indulgent and part of the reason i started writing so thank you very much i love you very much. it actually took me a long time to start liking bagels, but when i tried soft bagels for the first time dear god i ascended discovering your blog literally awakened a new jenny.

world plant milk day (aug 22) is @munsonsreputation : hear me out. i'm very passionate about soymilk, but my adoration for your blog comes close second. the way you write with such a balance of artistry, fourth-wall-defying humor, and an understanding of characters makes you as cool as plant milk imo.

dear diary day (sep 22) is @masivechaos : nobody pulls off dark academia like you do. you remind me of hand-me-down sweaters, scrapbook journals, and chocolate covered coffee beans. you're friendly and courteous and i think anyone would feel comfortable talking to you.

halloween (oct 31) is @omenhel : the whole black and white theme fits the vibe and all, but most importantly you seem like someone bold, lighthearted, and who values trying to stay true to themselves. plus you send me asks and it's like getting trick-or-treaters at my door.

(no th*nksg*v*ng on this blog boooo colonization boooo)

[primewritessmut]

4 - URBAN

Coffee is just a means to an end. A way to stay awake for as long as I can.

It’s such a stupid fucking idea. Such a dumb fucking ritual, walking into Urban Bean and flirting (badly) with the barista while he makes me a cup that’s basically just espresso shots.

I put a tip in the jar even though I can’t afford it and I smile like I’m normal. I reach across the counter and wrap my hand around the warm cup and imagine that this is the one that keeps me awake forever.

It doesn’t even matter in the end.

Whether I stay awake or fall asleep, the monster is there. No matter where I go, the monster is there.

The halfway house with the bedroom doors that don’t quite close in the middle of the worst neighborhood in the city didn’t exactly welcome me with open arms. But there weren’t straight jackets and no one double-checked that I took my meds. The room they assigned me probably used to be a closet and there was no excuse for the four poster bed that crouched inside.

Iron from top to bottom.

Something I know for sure because I tried to saw the legs off after my first night there.

I hadn’t seen eyes that time but I’d watched, huddled under my blankets, as one of the shadows rippled across the floor like a snake, real, tangible, with dark scales that caught the light coming in through the window.

3 - INTERRED || 5 - DEN