#of i am doing what is Right. it's the same thing here. that determination. that need to do what is Right.

[livelaughlaios]

As for Shuro/Toshiro... lemme see if I can put this coherently. The long and short of it is, this is Ryoko Kui doing the thing she does in which she uses the dungeon as a neutral background in which characters with different ideas can clash and come to terms with each other. We're not supposed to side with Toshiro, but we are not supposed to side with Laios, really, mostly because there is no "right" and "wrong" here.

A character who is heavily coded as autistic and comes from a northern europe coded culture (low-context - information is supposed to be conveyed in the most straightforward and clear way possible, even when said way is considered rude) meets another character who is extremely shy and comes from a japan coded culture (high context - info is supposed to be inferred by a mix of behaviour and conversational allusion, maintaining peaceful interpersonal relationships takes precedent over efficiency).

Neither of them are inherently wrong in the way they approach the other. Yes, Toshiro shouldve said something, but he doesn't know how. He was not taught how to handle someone like Laios. Conversely, Laios was not taught how to read between the lines and understand what a person is trying to convey if they are not speaking directly.

Since Laios is the main protagonist and we see most of the story from his POV, and also since most people on this website are American (low context culture), its easy for people to assume we are supposed to side with him. But I don't think that's the author's intention at all. Remember - Kui is Japanese writing for a primarily Japanese audience. From THEIR POV Toshiro's behaviour is perfectly understandable. It's also worth noting that there is a lot of extra material that gives further context to the Toshiro/Laios relationship.

One of the main points, for example, is how Laios gets Toshiro's name wrong. When they first met, Toshiro is immediately an object of curiosity to Laios BECAUSE he is a foreigner from a faraway land. Laios immediately invites himself to become his friend and starts asking question after question. When he finally remembers he's supposed to ask for Toshiro's name, he misunderstands it as Shuro, and Toshiro is too shy to correct him. "Renaming" the foreign side character for the benefit of the Western main character is an extremely loaded symbolic choice from Robinson Crusoe's Friday onward. I am not aware of the particular history of this trope in Japanese literature, but other elements of Toshiro's story suggest that renaming in his culture is something that is often done to slaves. Ryoko Kui is generally very deliberate about details like these. I highly doubt this is a random choice.

Of course Laios does not do it on purpose and Toshiro understands this and decides to let it slide, but its still something hurtful that Laios does to another person without even realising that hes doing it. This is a type of mistake he does often and he will do again across the story.

Again. Not saying Toshiro is perfectly right either, but there is a reason why they finish the meeting on relatively decent terms - because they BOTH recognise how they went wrong.

Toshiro realises that he needs to be more direct and determined about what he wants, but this is a reality check for Laios as well. He has been able to coast by so far in the dungeon without giving much thought to other people's wants and needs, thanks to the help of friends who care for him and are willing to follow him, but the story is changing pace and scale. Soon he might have to make some difficult decisions that involve the life and death of others. He needs to learn to listen.

This is why the Toshiro confrontation happens in the same span where we see Chimera!Falin going on a rampage, and Kabru trying to establish a friendship with Laios to assess what kind of person he is. Several narrative threads are coming to a head - the conflict with Toshiro is the tangible result of the tensions we saw around Laios' uncaring attitude from the beginning.

#shuro/toshiro #laios #meta #those are mostly confused notes sorry if they dont make much sense #meowing to myself

[axelsagewrites]

Where Am I?*Part Four

Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, Bjorn

Word count: 2146

Warnings: drinking, Sigurd making a cripple joke, drunk reader

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies

Part one Part two Part three

Masterlist Here

Something your arrival seemed to have distracted from was the success of the latest raid. “You’ll love it,” Hvitserk told you over breakfast. He, you had soon noticed, was the only morning person of the bunch. Ivar looked even more homicidal while Sigurd was still too asleep to piss him off. Meanwhile Ubbe was still in bed, threatening to cut off whoever’s hand tried to wake him, “We pull out all the stops. Wines, mead, ale, -“

“Is anything not alcohol related?” you joked just as Bjorn walked in. You’d honestly expected him to have breakfast with his father, but Bjorn said nothing as he took a seat beside you. You knew he was tall but him sitting shoulder to shoulder with you made you realise just how not only tall, but wide he was. The man was built like a bear.

“Hello?” Hvitserk said, waving his hand in front of your eyes, “I swear none of you appreciate the morning,” he tutted.

“Die,” Ivar grunted, earning an agreement from Sigurd. You chuckled a little at seeing them finally on the same side.

Still, you shot Hvitserk an apologetic smile. “Sorry Hvitserk I just spaced out,”

“Spaced out?” He asked, even Bjorn looking down in confusion.

“Like got distracted?”

Hvitserk nodded in understanding, but Bjorn wasn’t satisfied, his head tilting even further in confusion. “Why do you say ‘like’ all the time? You always say like at the start of everything its strange,”

“I guess it’s like,” you said, pausing to chuckle at the accident though he didn’t laugh, “I don’t know it’s just how we talk where I’m from. Like how in every conversation someone threatens someone’s life here,” you said, finally earning a crack of a smile from him, “Where I’m from that would be the weird thing,”

“It’s not as if we mean it,” Hvitserk said.

“It’s brotherly love,” You turned to look at Ivar and Sigurd who both just kind of shrugs.

“It’s something all right,” Sigurd muttered. Ivar’s glare said enough on his behalf.

You ignored them both and turned back to Hvitserk with a laugh. After all they were brothers after all. It was all just talk. Surely. “So, if I go wake Ubbe up right now he won’t actually cut off my hand?” This time they all shared a concerned look. Okay maybe not.

“Take back up with you,” Ivar said. “Just encase,”

You sighed and rolled your eyes at the dramatics of all of them “Seriously? Right come on then,” you said, nodding your head at Ivar as you stood.

For a moment you actually saw a slight look of fear wash over his face, “But I’m still eating,” he tried to weasel his way out of it making Sigurd laugh. That was until you turned to him, hands on hip and his eyes suddenly dipped to the floor and the laughing stopped.

You threw your hands up, “He cannot be that bad!” you protested as you headed to Ubbe’s room.

As you headed for the door you heard someone’s chair scrape against the floor following you. You knocked on the door before quickly pushing it open, “Rise and shine sunshine- “

A loud groan came from the lump under the furs that was presumably the grumpy Ubbe everyone had warned you about. He quickly went to sit up and you jumped back when you saw the axe in his hand. Right back into what you soon realised was Bjorn’s chest.

Realization dawned over Ubbe’s face when he saw you, “Oh,” he said, dropping the axe onto the furs, “Sorry I didn’t realise it was you,” he mumbled, collapsing back into bed.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you mumbled, stepping away from Bjorn and hoping he didn’t see the blush covering your cheeks from the previous closeness. Then they went even redder when Ubbe sat up in bed and you realised he had nothing on. “I’m just gonna,” you span around, trying to leave, before almost smacking right back into Bjorn’s chest. You almost gulped before looking up at him, “Sorry,” you mumbled, rushing out past him, not noticing the smirk on Bjorn’s face or the way Ubbe laughed at your antics.

-

Ivar had finished eating by the time you’d returned, and you very quickly insisted on him showing you the market like he’d promised last night. He almost jumped at the chance and debated flinging his knife into Sigurd’s chest when he insisted on joining you both. However, you weren’t out for long before Aslaug sent a thrall to fetch you.

Aslaug had arranged for you to receive another dress for tonight’s festivities since “our guests represent our honour,” and you weren’t going to turn down the clean clothes.

The boys had gone out to do some training leaving you to get ready. You debated doing some makeup, you did have a couple items in your bag after all. “What is that?” Aslaug asked as she and a woman you recognised as Helga walked into the room. You’d been sat at a table in the middle of the house to utilise the little light inside and hadn’t heard them walk in, “Its eyeliner,” you said, showing them the black on your eyes, “Like how you use charcoal on yours,”

“Can I watch?” Helga asked, excitement written on her face as she sat across from you, “What’s this?” she asked, picking up the liquid blush, “It’s so bright!”

“It’s blush,” you laughed, “It’s for your cheeks,”

Aslaug sat next to her, eyeing over the cosmetics, “Like berries?”

“Kind of?” you said, gently taking it out of Helga’s hand so you could put it on to show them,

“See?” you asked patting it in, “Same sort of thing but this lasts a bit longer,”

“Can we try some?” Helga asked and even Aslaug looked interested at the idea. For the next while you helped them apply some moisturiser and blush to ease them into it. you were honestly scared to show them your eyeshadow pallet considering how Helga reacted to a pink blush.

then it was your turn. Apparently, the hair problem was long overdue. Helga was gentle when she brushed but you winced as Aslaug took over the intricate braids. “Do all girls fuss where you’re from?”

By the time she was done however you had to admit it looked beautiful. “You almost look like one of us,” there was almost fondness in Aslaug smile.

Helga looked up with a large grin, “You’ll get used to the pain. You looked wonderful though,”

-

Walking into the bustling hall by Aslaug’s side was both comforting and terrifying. On one hand it meant no one would question you but on the other, everyone was staring. When the boys finally returned Hvitserk was the first to greet you and you happily accepted the ale he offered.

You were sat at a table with the five of them, Hvitserk and Ivar on either side of you, and Bjorn, Ubbe, and Sigurd across from you. However, something the group were quickly realising was their tolerance to ale was far higher than yours. “Do you not drink where you’re from?” Ubbe teased as your cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

“We do! I swear I’m not a lightweight. This stuffs just strong!” you laughed.

Apparently, the laugh was infectious as soon they were all giggly. All but Bjorn but for once there was a permanent smile on his face, “What’s a lightweight?” Bjorn asked.

“Someone who can’t hold their alcohol,” you told him, very matter of factly making them all laugh at your drunken confidence, “You lot wouldn’t last one second on a night out at my campus. I’m talking tequila shots, body shots, Jello shots,” you began to drunkenly list off as the boys tilted their heads in amused confusion.

“What’s a shot?” Hvitserk asked making you face palm.

“Oh, I have so much to teach you,”

-

Unfortunately, while the boys were great company and had adjusted well to you being in their groups your presence seemed to disrupt everyone else. It was Hvitserk who first noticed everyone staring at you, but you were too tipsy too care. However, as Ivar and Ubbe drank more both began to glare at the men whose eyes stayed too long.

Despite all the boys warning you about Ivar’s temper they all seemed to ignore Ubbe’s even when he insisted on you all leaving because a drunken Viking tried to hit on you. You however were happy enough to follow them all the edge of the lake and sit on the cold sand with a flask of ale being passed around.

As you were all walking down to the lake Hvitserk, and Sigurd were in a heated debate over which slave girl was hotter while Ubbe carried a giggling Ivar on his back. somehow, you’d ended up at the back of the pack, stumbling down the hill beside Bjorn.

“Woah,” he gasped, grabbing your waist before you could stumble and fall over a tree branch. “Steady,”

“Careful Bjorn,” you grinned up at him, holding onto the arm he offered you so you wouldn’t risk falling again, “Someone might think we’re friends,” you teased.

A smirk quickly showed on his face, a teasing light in his eyes, “Oh? Are we not friends already? I am wounded,”

“Friends don’t try kill their friends,” you pouted but you weren’t able to keep the charade up for long before grinning again like a Cheshire cat.

Bjorn just rolled his eyes with a smile however, “We weren’t friends then. We are now,”

“So, you won’t try kill me again?”

Another eye roll, “I won’t try kill you, no,” he said, shaking his head as he helped you to where the rest of the group had begun to sit.

“Pinky promise?” you asked, pulling out of his grip and extending his arm.

His eyes narrowed, head tilting, “What’s a pinkie promise?”

“Its where,” you said, stepping closer to grab his hand, “You lock pinkies,” you said wrapping yours around his, not noticing the smile on his face, “And promise something. And if you break it, I get to break your pinkie,”

“So, an oath?”

“An oath with a threat,”

“Of breaking a finger?”

“Pinkie specifically but yes,” you grinned, “So do you promise?”

“I promise,”

“Good,” you grinned, pulling your pinkie away from his grip before turning to join the group. You plopped down on the ground next to Ivar who was staring off into the sea, “Hi,” you grinned.

Ivar turned to you, laughing when he saw the wide grin on your cheeks, “Hello,” you could hear a slight drunken slur in his words. “Want some?” he asked, passing you, his ale.

You gladly accepted it, taking a drink of the alcohol you first hated but soon grew to love, “Thanks. You’re always so sweet to me,” you smiled before taking a drink, missing the way Ivar’s cheeks went red at your sweet words. Sigurd however didn’t want you to miss it.

“Aww look at the cripple,” he teased making Ivar scowl, “He’s blushing like a baby,”

You passed Ivar his drink back, noticing how tense his jaw was and quickly checking to see how close he was to his axe. After all you didn’t need to be here when the fall out happened, “Why do you care so much Sigurd?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

Everyone’s eyes seemingly went wide, shocked that your bubbly attitude had so quickly dropped. “you don’t get it,” he tried to brush off, “you’re not from here,”

“Then explain it to me,” you said, sitting up straight, “Explain what’s so funny about Ivar’s legs. Ill wait,”

“Well its just,” he tried to stutter earning a snigger from Hvitserk, “I don’t know it just is. Why do you care?”

You were honestly a bit hurt by that, “because he’s, my friend?” you said it like a question because the answer seemed so obvious.

“Okay well I’m sorry,” Sigurd shrugged, his eyes focused on the ground.

Luckily the night quickly moved on from the brief ugly confrontation however Ivar couldn’t get the reaction out of his mind. He was so used to fighting his own battles that he never even expected someone else to back him up, let alone speak up before him. Despite his bruised ego Sigurd thankfully stayed civil for the rest of the night.

A few hours passed before you all decided to walk home. You were in a world of your own at this point, your eyes fixed on how bright the night sky was with stars with no city skyline or factory gases to ruin your view. You didn’t even notice the stares from the boys or hear Hvitserk and Ubbe talk about how you stood up to Sigurd. For the first time this week you didn’t have a care in the world.

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General taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate @justtilly @jjkjbhj @clairacassidy @valeskafics @perla434 @selenestar78 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @urfavnoirette @randomstory56 @qardasngan @https-luvvia @im-the-fucking-lunar-prince @bryandechartisasmolbean @glorywielder101 @tiinkerbell @the-holy-pigeon @andreaxxx44

#vikings #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #vikings fanfic #vikings x you #ubbe x reader #ubbe #ubbe imagine #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe ragnorsson x reader #sigurd ragnarsson #sigurd ragnorsson x reader #sigurd x reader #sigurd #sigurd snake eye x reader #hviserk #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #ivar x reader #ivar #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnorsson #ivar ragnarsson x reader

[icyg4l]

PAC: What Can You Do to Pass Your Finals?

Hello beautiful people! It is about that time of the year again where us students are struggling to meet deadlines & have to study for the dreadful finals. Well, I’m here to give you all some tips on how to pass your final exams this season. I will be using my True Heart tarot deck for this reading per usual. If you resonate with this reading enough to want to book with me, please read my guidelines and dm me for a reading! Without further ado, please select your academic weapon!

Left-to-Right: Pile 1-3 (Elle Woods, Dionne Davenport, Jade the Brat)

Pile 1: I feel like this pile really needs to consider having a study buddy. That would help you tremendously. Doing things like going back and forth to repeat formulas, coming up with sufficient answers for mock trials and practicing for a foreign oral exam with another person can be some of the things that you do. Study dates are absolutely necessary. I feel like you also need to change the scenery. Go somewhere that you’ve never been before, particularly near a body of water. And another thing that you can do to help you achieve academic success is chewing gum while you study. It’s scientifically proven that chewing gum can improve your memory & can boost your test scores (only if you put the effort in though beforehand lmao).

Cards Used: Death, 7 of Cups, Princess of Cups, Knight of Cups.

extras: being by the water. trees. hair twirler. fidget spinner.

Pile Two: I think the best thing that you can do is ask for assistance directly from the source. I feel like this is specifically for those who are struggling in their math or science classes. I get the feeling that you don’t want to take this class ever again. So, you need to get situated and fast. I feel like this pile may be going through a separation/breakup from their partner. It may be affecting your ability to focus on school. But it is best that you not only seek academic guidance from the source, explain your situation to them so that they can understand what you’re going through. They may direct you to some mental help. I feel like another thing that you could do is practice grounding exercises. Surround yourself in nature. Go bicycling or hiking. Go to a conservatory. Lastly, another thing you could do is go for a swim. I feel like you need to get moving. You need to get physical before/while you’re getting ready to study.

Cards Used: 7 of Cups, 9 of Discs, 2 of Cups, Judgment, Queen of Cups, 5 of Cups, Page of Cups.

extras: pull ups. heartburn. feeling helpless. “unusual.”

Pile Three: This pile feels very extreme. It’s a crucial moment in your academic career that could either make or break you, it seems. I think that this finals season determines whether or not you will have to go to summer school or whether you will get into that school. Maybe even going to the next grade or having to retake that particular class. So, you have to buckle in. I am seeing someone crack their knuckles and stretch out their neck. I don’t get the feeling that this is a traditional final. It could be a project or a paper that’s graded harshly. It could also be a collaboration. Whatever it is, I feel like your mother figure could help you a lot with this. She knows more about this subject than you think. Allow her to help. Another thing that can help you is reaching out to people who have done the same project as you in previous years or the semester prior. And lastly, take really good notes from people who are well-versed in this subject. They will come in handy & you won’t regret that you did it.

Cards Used: The Tower, 10 of Discs, The Lovers, The Moon, The Empress.

extras: “it’s gametime.” “appealing.” sweaty hands. marnie. beats headphones. deep breath in & out.

#law of assumption #manifesting #neville goddard #hoodoo #tarot #tarotreading #astro notes #pick a card #pick a pile #divination #tarot tumblr #tarot witch #free tarot #daily tarot #tarot deck #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick an image #pick a reading #tarot pac #pac reading #tarot pick a card #tarot pull #spirituality #tarot community #channeled message #intuitive readings #black tarot readers #pick a photo #tarotcommunity

[palismet]

the alt. thanks to them opening boards are going to emotionally scar me for life. look at his face. luz is terrified but desperate with a hope she feels is unfounded, needing that optimism to imagine a way out of this that doesn't hurt; that doesn't end in more tragedy?

she thinks they're on the same level of bad but sad. that she did as much as hunter in the name of helping belos, without knowing the whole truth of who belos was, who he is. she's traumatized by it.

she needs to not be alone in it.

the i'll keep your secret if you keep mine is a knife to the heart. we are in this together, she is saying. whether we like it or not, at least we have each other. at least i'm not alone.

but what do you say to that? how do you make a witch's oath without magic? you take it to heart. you hold it closer to anything. there aren't words for a devotion like that, the kind of devotion hunter has led with his entire life, and now, here, it's for luz. it's for everyone, for protecting them, to be able for them to get home again.

it's reminiscent of that good old golden guard loyalty, but remade in the light of this new world, new life. it's a cause to live by, a goal, a dream; and as the story goes, we can see - there isn't much he isn't willing to sacrifice for it, especially if the cost is only himself.

(he has nothing to return for, after all. he has a graveyard, filled to the brim with bones and masks and a future he only narrowly escaped.)

sacrifice - that is something he's been waiting for his whole life. so of course he's willing to risk everything for them. what better ending is there, where at the very least, his friends can go home to where they are loved? where no one has to be afraid, anymore?

#toh analysis #the owl house #thanks to them #toh storyboards #the owl house storyboards #hunter toh #luz toh #hey u ever think ab how hunter has been trained AND made to be a sacrifice his entire life? for phillip and the coven? #u ever think ab that frame they cut of the end of the danger deep water battle w/ belos possessing hunter at the end of the ep. #his small; shrew smile he gives after 'never hurt anyone ever again'? #i think of that and the smile he gave at the end of hunting palismen. the smile of acceptance. of i am doing all that i can; #of i am doing what is Right. it's the same thing here. that determination. that need to do what is Right. #obsessed with his ARCCCC look at how much he has changed and yet how some things stay! #how it's almost FORESHADOWED right here in this moment? the soft nod of i'm here with you? i will make sure you're not alone? #bc of course it ends in sacrifice. of course he would give everything for them; their kindness; their love n acceptance? #how couldn't he!!!! it's what he wanted + waited for his entire life and the meaning of that? the power of it? magic of friendship 🥺💛 #and then flap :( which he would never expect. why would anyone sacrifice for Him? it's only supposed to be the other way around? #the hurt of it!!!! the love!!! the way he is never prepared in the face of it!!! i'm so normal ab this !!!!!

[switchy-punk]

Not sure why the night thoughts went from blazing fury to normal to random crying spells over everything that's happened in my 17 years on this earth but it's awful.

I wouldn't say I'm a threat to myself but I'm definitely not ok.

TW if you decide to read the tags: negative life reflection, mentions of cancel culture, alcohol, religious abuse, homophobia/transphobia, panic attack, animal illness & death

#sometimes i wonder what happened #when did i snap #how did i get like this #and why am i so terrified of the future and the past at the same time #i mean lets be honest i was conditioned for it #i was born to 2 people who didnt want a kid and didnt even love each other #with this considered why am i here anyway #i was never 'girly' enough #i was an outcast for having adhd #my worth was essentially determined by my grades #denis cancelled his best friend. my hero. because he called some sensitive bitch cringe #right after that my dads drinking got out of control (even though he doesnt drink like that anymore) #my mom tried to convert me to christianity and became homophobic and transphobic #“you need morals and values” #just had a panic attack a minute ago thinking my dad would do the same thing #had to put down my cat out of nowhere thanks to cancer #and no one in my life gives a damn about any of that #anyways #thats a summary of my life

[jinnie-ret]

9th member reader passing out on stage during tour because theyve been pushing themselves hard for the tour. forgetting to eat sometimes, pushing themselves in the gym, pushing themselves during practice (not in a punishing themselves way just a getting caught up in the work and not realising how harsh theyre being on themselves way). it all just gets too much during a concert and they just drop, maybe one of the boys catch her before she can hit the floor too hard. the boys beating themselves up a bit for not noticing how hard they were pushing themselves.

don't push yourself

stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)

genre: angst, fluff

content warnings: reader not taking care of herself

word count: 2.1k

summary: you thought you were doing the right thing for yourself, but it was only a matter of time before your habits became unhealthy, and the boys didn't even notice until it was too late.

Here it is! I hope you enjoy it! :))

Asks are currently shut!

But let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist and reblog if you enjoyed! <3

MAIN MASTERLIST

With an early rise, there was bound to be a fall at some point.

Whether that was into your bed, when you finally returned back to the dorms from a late night practice; on the sofa of Chan's studio; or to the stage floor of the concert you were rehearsing for.

But we'll get to that later.

The boys hadn't noticed at the start what you had been doing to yourself. You were being more strict with your diet, going to the gym every morning with Changbin, and staying longer at practice. They just saw it as you being their fellow determined member who was trying to improve your health.

And yes, you were seeing improvements, quickly, in fact. But it wasn't healthy. Not that you knew that.

"You should have seen her! She lifted 70kg today!" Changbin boasted with pride, arm wrapped around your shoulders as you both returned from the gym.

Han and Hyunjin had been eating breakfast in the kitchen upon your arrival, so it was the perfect audience for Changbin to show you off to. Chan was probably already at the studio.

"70kg?! I think you can lift more than me now... I can't even lift a spoon," Han laughs.

"Our Han is so squishy," Hyunjin said in an over the top voice and started poking his stomach and arms.

"Yah! Yah!" Han laughed loudly as he shoved Hyunjin away, all four of you laughing.

"Come on, Y/Nnie, show us those muscles of yours," Hyunjin made grabby hands towards your arms, so in return you tensed.

"Woah, your muscles are so big now!" Han's eyes widened.

"Yes I'm secretly training to beat you all up," you did your best to tiredly joke.

"Not much of a secret, plus, you could never beat me," Changbin smirked, ruffling your hair as he went to take a shower.

"Wanna test that theory?" you called after him, pretending to march along the same path he took to his room.

It was easier then, to joke around and act like everything was normal, because you were yet to spiral.

"Y/Nnie? What are you doing here?" Jeongin questioned confused as you walked into the apartment he shared with Seungmin, Felix and Lee Know. You must have not only grabbed the wrong key, but walked back from JYP to the wrong apartment.

"Huh? Innie? Oh, I must have gone to the wrong place," you mumble tiredly, putting your bag down nonetheless.

"You look exhausted... it's 1am! What are you doing up?" Jeongin stood up to analyse your tired figure, one that had also changed from you becoming stricter in yourself.

"I just came back from practising... what are you still doing up?" you looked up at the maknae, poking his cheek lazily.

"From practice? At this time? I was just watching some show on TV," he shrugged, tugging you to sit down next to him.

"What's going on?" a sleepy Felix rubbed his eyes as he entered the lounge, jumping back slightly when he noticed you were there.

"I'm not that scary looking am I, Lixie?" you managed to tease, your head rested against Jeongin's shoulder.

"No! No... I was just shocked to see you're here, why aren't you at the other apartment, did you have an argument?" Felix joined you on the sofa, stealing some of the blanket you and Jeongin had.

"She's so tired she came back to the wrong place," Jeongin laughed, rubbing your head.

"Wah! Y/N you're the first to do that out of us all!" Felix giggled.

"Shouldn't have given me a spare key," you yawned as you stretched your arms, wincing when you did so.

"I'm glad we did by the looks of it, did you push yourself?" Felix brushed some hair out of your face after seeing your pained expression.

"No, no, it's nothing like that..." you trailed off.

"Then what is it?" Jeongin began, "if you didn't push yourself then what is it? Did you not get any sleep last night?"

"I guess so..." you complied with his theories in aid of not having to reveal what you had really been doing.

Surely this wasn't a bad thing though? The concern in their voices was beginning to make you feel differently but you know you were only doing this to better yourself.

"Ah you need to be more careful," Felix tsked, pulling the blanket tighter around you.

"You can't burrito me to death," you tried to fight against the Aussie that was currently swaddling you.

"Oh, but I can."

Another night, you were back at your apartment (the right one) and were currently cooking yourself dinner as everyone else had already eaten. With a pyjama vest and shorts on, it was weird to think how you hadn't noticed the bruises that painted your muscles.

"Ah you're awake now, wait, what happened?" Chan entered the kitchen, happy to see you were awake but alarmed at the sight of your arms.

"Huh? What do you mean?" you questioned as you chopped some veggies.

"Your arms, they've got bruises, lots of them, what happened? Did someone do this to you?" Chan interrogated you all of a sudden.

"What?! No!" you glanced down at your arms and sighed, no wonder they ached so much. "I've just been working out a lot more."

"This looks like a hell of a lot more, you sure you're taking it easy? I mean, I know you go to the gym with Changbin now but that doesn't mean you have to try and match him," Chan sighed, unable to take his eyes off of the purple marks on you.

"Hey, my eyes are up here," you laughed, nudging Chan.

"Y/N..." he sighed, not in the mood for joking around when he could see that you were hurt.

"Chan, it's fine. My body just probably isn't used to it yet, but look, I'm sticking to a good plan, I've got veggies and chicken breast in so I'm getting in my gains like a proper gym bro," you laugh.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're at least eating, just, take it easy, yeah?" he smiled then, patting your back as he returned to presumably his room.

You thought your mind was getting stronger, but your body was getting weaker. Practising had taken priority over your eating.

"Let's go one more time," Lee Know instructed everyone, watching the moves of his members with sharp eyes at the mirror as he danced at the front.

And to your disdain, you stumbled.

"Shit," you put a hand to your forehead, feeling disappointed in yourself.

"Our Y/Nnie can't keep on her own two feet," Lee Know teased, but upon seeing that your expression didn't change at his light-hearted joke, he came over to you.

"Hey, it's ok, I was just kidding," he tried to bend slightly to look into your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I just, wanna get it right, you know?" you sighed.

"I've seen you perform this dance amazingly multiple times, don't be so harsh on yourself," he nodded at you before returning to the front of the mirror.

But how could you not be harsh on yourself when everything needed to be perfect?

"Woah, I'm impressed, I've never seen you got a note like that!" Seungmin applauded you on one of your duo vlives.

Fans flooded the comments spamming hearts and mentioning how impressed they also were at you, being a rapper of the group, hitting high notes.

"I've been practising," you waved him off, hiding your face shyly

"Yeah, with who? Ailee sunbaenim?!" he tried to peek at your hoodie covered face.

"Woah you can't compare me to Ailee sunbaenim!" you laughed at him.

You continued to sing together, yet at the end you were getting breathless. And so, after the vlive ended, Seungmin couldn't help but bring it up.

"You sounded pretty breathless at the end..."

"I know, I know, I need to do better," you sighed.

"No it's not that! I'm just a bit worried about you..." he brushed off your doubts.

"Why? I'm fine," you shrugged him off.

"Ok, whatever you say, just take care of yourself, yeah?" he allowed you to brush away his doubts the same way he did to yours, as you both left the company.

And so this cycle of constantly trying to go past the boundaries of your limits continued. All the way into your second concert of your Maniac World Tour.

It had all been going so well. Everyone was on an adrenaline rush and loving the crowd's support. Apart from you. Your body was slowly but surely bound to shut down eventually, you just wished it didn't happen with your stays so happy, because you knew as soon as you hit the floor, you would have taken that away.

"Y/Nnie!!!" screamed the fans as your body slumped and didn't get back up.

The members instantly turned to where you had been performing. It hadn't even been a high energy choreo, because this time, you were simply moving around the stage to interact more with the fans.

You would have scolded yourself if you had a single coherent thought in your exhausted state.

"Somebody help!" Chan worriedly waved over some staff from backstage as they lifted you off.

"Please excuse us stays, everything will be ok, we will be back with you in a moment," Lee Know hurriedly tried to calm the crowd of tearful stays before rushing after his fellow members who surrounded you.

"Come on, Y/N, wake up," Hyunjin patted your face, trying to help you come back to reality.

"Hmmm," you groaned, a pounding feeling in your head.

"Oh thank God!" Han sighed in relief, hand on his quickly beating heart.

"What happened?" you mumbled tiredly as you were sat up by two staff members who fanned you and handed you some water with a straw to sip from.

"You just collapsed out there!" Felix said with wide eyes.

"Oh," you simply said, not wanting to confront what could have happened to you.

"Oh? Just, oh? Y/N, what happened out there?" Chan sternly said from next to you, squeezing your hand to offer reassurance despite his strict demeanor.

"I don't know... One second I was talking to the fans and the next..."

"You... you haven't been taking care of yourself have you?" Hyunjin burst out with his question, unable to hold back his words no longer.

"I have, I've been going to the gym, I've been practising hard-" you began, before you were cut off.

"How didn't I realise?" Changbin pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Realise what, hyung?" Seungmin asked curiously.

"Y/N, please tell me you've been eating and not living off of those energy drinks I see you have every morning," Changbin crouched down in front of you, begging that he was wrong in thinking that.

"Yeah, I ate dinner, umm, it was when, ummm," you stumbled on your words, unable to remember the last time you ate a proper meal.

And that is when you felt like you failed. You had been doing so well but you couldn't even stick to your plan.

"You can't even remember when you last ate?" Lee Know looked around at the concerned gazes of his other members.

"I'm sorry I don't know why, I... I just wanted to do better," you bit your lip, trying to hold back your tears.

"There are so many better ways to go about it Y/Nnie," Jeongin sighed, rubbing your knee soothingly.

"I'm sorry we didn't notice," Felix said regretfully.

"No, no, please don't apologise, this is on me," you mentally kicked yourself.

"How long, Y/N?" Chan insisted on your response.

"Maybe... 2 months?" you wondered out loud.

They all gasped and shared different responses at your answer.

"Y/Nnie that's not good for you, no wonder you were seeming more tired..." Hyunjin looked away.

"I'm sorry, I really am, I never wanted to worry you all," you apologised sadly, and that is when some stray tears fell delicately down your cheeks.

"We will always worry, you're part of our team," Seungmin bluntly said, yet you could still see the compassion behind his eyes.

"Don't push yourself so hard next time, yeah? Let us know next time and we can help you figure out a way to do this more healthily, just talk to us next time, yeah?" Chan wiped your tears away as Changbin wrapped you in a hug you didn't realise you needed so badly.

"I promise," you whispered, yet everyone heard it amongst the sounds of the crowd, and if they didn't, they still felt the words hanging in the air, a vow that next time, you would take care of yourself, and that they'd always be there to take care of you too.

tagged: @skz-streamer @han-jiquokka @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @kiraisastay

#skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic #skz ninth #skz ninth member imagines #skz ninth imagines #skz ninth member #stray kids ninth #stray kids ninth member #stray kids 9th member #skz 9th member

[requiemsystem]

ADVICE FOR NEWLY DISCOVERED OR SUSPECTED SYSTEMS

if you suspect you may be a system or have recently discovered that youre a system, things can be confusing and hard. im making this post as someone who has been aware of being a system for about 5 years and has been diagnosed for 2. these are things i wish we knew and did. i hope it will be helpful to some of you and i wish you luck on discovering things about yourself and your system keep in mind everyone is different and systems are no exception, so what i list here might be incredibly beneficial for one person but do nothing for another. find what works for you. i will try to provide a variety of advice in order for you to see what fits you best DO YOUR RESEARCH research the disorder, try to find others experiences and things you think would help you. this is especially helpful if you are suspecting and not yet sure if you have it, researching symptoms and others experiences can be very helpful in determining START SYMPTOM LOGGING this can be as simple as "i blacked out today" or "i dont feel like myself right now", you dont have to be identifying switches or putting names to alters, theres no rush to be able to do that and some systems have no desire to do that symptom logging is useful because it can help you identify potential triggers and patterns in your symptoms. for example, if you can remember what happened before a period of amnesia and remember being exposed to a stressful event or something potentially triggering, this would be worth writing down to see if its a recurring pattern REACH OUT TO OTHER ALTERS this can be done in a variety of ways, but the easiest way would be to leave a note in a place itll be seen. for example, a sticky note on a mirror (if you live with other people and cant do this, try leaving a note on your phone in a frequently checked app) i would advise saying something along the lines of "hello, i am (name) and i would like to communicate with you. i suspect we have a disorder called (DID/OSDD) and we share the same body and mind. please write back to me in (location, can be a notebook or app etc) and tell me some about yourself if you feel comfortable" but you can say whatever works for you. i just think the main points to cover are having DID/OSDD and introducing yourself as well as asking for an introduction in return START WORKING ON COMMUNICATION this takes a lot of practice, so i always say its better to build up early rather than late. we have a whole post on it that can be found here REMINDERS AND THINGS TO REMEMBER if you do not remember your trauma, do not dig for it. it isnt safe to try to remember trauma without professionals help. if you happen to remember, thats one thing, but dont intentionally seek out triggers to try to remember denial is common and not a sign of faking, if you were faking you would know and would not be in denial. being wrong about having DID/OSDD (if you are suspecting but not sure) is not the same as faking no two systems are the same. you dont have to look exactly like some other system you know or online to be real its normal to not know everything right away. you wont know all your alters immediately, you may not be able to access (and you may not have) your innerworld, you probably wont remember all of your trauma without professionals help, etc. its all normal its totally ok to keep information about your system private. there is no need to share with anyone you do not feel completely safe and comfortable with switching at any frequency is normal, there is no "correct" amount to switch. any amount of alters is normal, there is no "correct" amount of alters. any level of amnesia is normal, there is no "correct" level of amnesia apps like simply plural and bots like pluralkit can be incredibly helpful for some systems, but there is absolutely no pressure to use them if you do not feel comfortable - grey

#did osdd #osdd did #did system #osdd system #osddid #actually dissociative #dissociative identity disorder #other specified dissociative disorder #did alters #actually did #c did #complex did #did alter #osdd #actually osdd #osdd 1b #did #traumagenic system #dissociative system #osdd 1a #did discovery #osdd discovery

[jujutsubaby]

🫧 skin care daddy 🫧

☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader ☆ summary: your skin's been breaking out recently and you're stressed at work and you have your sister's wedding to attend in a week. according to the internet, this is the best spa in town, and you're lowkey desperate at this point...it can't be that bad right? ☆ tags: modern au ☆ warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!recieving), facial, dirty talk, fingering, flicking the bean?? idk ☆ a/n: guys i swear i am cooking in the kitchen with the asks from my follower event AND other shit OK!! sorry for the wait on everything but here is a little crumb bc i love u all!! i was feeling unhinged bc i saw two things: 1) a spa called skin care daddy and 2) a post or one shot where the reader got a facial from gojo and it cleared her skin. idk i just felt inspired to make this bc it felt the universe was asking me to. not proofread some plot with corn u know the vibes babes xx ☆ word count: 7k+

"sorry, we're all booked for this weekend and the next. we usually recommend that our customers book 3 weeks in advance for our services at the ritz carlton luxury spa." the lady on the other end of the line was objectively speaking very politely, but you were far too frustrated with your situation to notice.

"great, yeah, no, thanks." you say quickly, hanging up the phone and groaning into your pillow.

"no luck at the ritz?" you turn to face your best friend, nobara.

"they're all booked, what a surprise!" you say sarcastically, your voice still slightly muffled by the pillow.

"i mean, c'mon, y/n. your face is not that bad..." nobara tries and deeply fails to comfort you, making you chuckle half heartedly.

you get up from your bed and walk over to the full body mirror of your closet in order to get up close and personal with your face. your fingers stretch on the skin around your breakouts as you study them with determination, as if just willing them to be gone will do the trick. it doesn't.

"it's bad enough that all the aunties will say something snarky to me all day."

you're usually one to always follow through on your skincare routine, am and pm, and watch what you eat carefully so that you don't get breakouts. but you recently went through a rough patch (read: a hellish period) and your face took the brunt of the damage. it wasn't your fault you were having massive cramps and craved hot cheetos the entire week (it was so worth it) but now, a week before your sister's wedding, you're facing the consequences.

you sigh. the ritz was the fifth place you guys called that didn't have any space for an all day facial, but you couldn't run out of hope. back to the drawing board.

you open up your laptop and get back to searching on google maps, as nobara does the same thing. you're grateful she's helping you out during your, albeit, dumb crisis, but what are girl friendships for? a spa you've never heard of before suddenly catches your eye and you zoom in. skin care daddy? you read the finer print underneath it. best day spa in tokyo.

you snort. best day spa in tokyo my ass. if it really was the best day spa in tokyo, why have you never heard of it?

nobara laughs, almost on cue. "wait, dude, are you seeing this spa?" she turns her phone around and you see she's also looking at skin care daddy. "this has to be a joke, right? no way would they be allowed to open up a spa named that, right?"

"ohmygod, i was just looking at that!" you say excitedly. "it literally sounds like a sex bot made it for unsuspecting horny losers to click on and get like, a crazy virus." you both laugh at how ridiculous this place sounds.

nobara's laugh almost abruptly stops as she scrolls down the place. "wait, stop. this place has like...over ten thousand reviews and a 4.9 star rating..."

you immediately click on the place and take a closer look at the reviews and ratings and see she's right. "i don't think i've ever seen a place have this many reviews with consistent ratings?" your brows scrunch as you read aloud some of the top reviews.

"this spa has given me the some of the best facials of my life. i always come to this spa whenever i'm in the area, and the people working there are obsessed with taking care of their customers. 10/10" you're baffled by the review sounding so...weird but you think nothing of it. you make a mental note that you are kinda desperately looking for a miracle facial to help with your breakouts, so maybe you shouldn't count this place out just yet.

nobara half heartedly scoffs as she reads the next one. "i've had chronic acne and back pain for years until i saw someone from here who made me feel soo good. you'll be coming here all the time once you go. maybe even multiple times a day."

"how good can this place be if you have to go multiple times to make sure your spa treatment worked?" you say, rolling your eyes at these reviews. "these can't be real right?"

"they sound incentivized or like someone paid them to write it or somethin'" nobara surmises.

"maybe it's a cult or something," you say, causing both of you to double over in laughter.

"a cult disguised as a spa is a bit too insane, even for tokyo." nobara says as she scrolls through and skims more reviews. "aren't you looking for a facial anyway? everyone's saying they're really good here...you know...despite the..." she gestures with her hands the reviews on her phone.

"ugh, am i for real that desperate for clear skin that i'm willing to go to a shady ass day spa?" you roll on to your back on your bed and stare at the ceiling, contemplating.

"can't be that shady if it's ten thousand reviews. say what you want but that's a lot of reviews to pay money for."

nobara has a point. you grab your laptop and try to look for a link to their website and see they don't have a website. interesting. not a red flag but just interesting. maybe i have to call for bookings? you search for a phone number, but fail to find one.

"wait, are you able to find any contact for this spa?" you ask noabra and you see her squinting her eyes at the phone.

"no i wasn't but i saw a review that basically said this spa is a walk-in type of deal?"

"it's a walk-in but has thousands of reviews? how does that even work? people are probably waiting years in line to get in?"

"dunno," nobara shrugs, and puts her phone back in her pocket. "maybe it's like a 'if-you-know-you-know' type of thing so it's like popular through word of mouth of somethin'"

damn. even more shady, then. you chew on your lip and stare at the ceiling again, trying to imagine all the things your aunties will say to you at the wedding.

"27 and still unmarried? shame."

"oh, you really need to watch your diet, the breakouts will never go away otherwise."

"clear skin is the first step to find a man who will desire you, y/n."

you feel like your skin is burning thinking about the so-called "advice" you're likely to receive at the wedding. normally you wouldn't care, but your hormones have been kind of out of wack with the new birth control you started recently, and you're not sure if you can really take any form of bullshit other than your sister's this weekend.

your thoughts are interrupted by nobara getting up from your chair. "alright, i'm off to work. need a ride to skin care daddy?"

"yeah, actually," you say as you slowly get out of your bed and change our of your pajamas.

"wait, what?!" nobara says with wide eyes. "i was actually joking when i said that. are you seriously gonna go? y/n, i dunno about this one..."

"c'mon! it's like you said, it's weird but it's not necessarily shady..." you say, mostly trying to convince yourself as you put on a pair of your favorite lazy girl black flared yoga pants.

nobara seems to consider it for a moment before responding. "kay, fine. but if i take you there and it's some abandoned warehouse-"

"then we'll drive away. no way in hell i'm about to die for this place." you assure nobara, putting her at ease.

you quickly don a thrifted gray hoodie and put your hair up in a messy bun. you don't care to put on any makeup, since you're probably gonna have to take it off anyway. if the day spa isn't shady and in an abandoned warehouse.

you quickly grab your keys and wallet before gesturing to nobara to leave. she sighs, looking at her phone one more time.

"fuck it, let's go before i change my mind."

"okay it says it's just right around the corn-"

"OH MY GOD?!" you're unable to hold back your disbelief as nobara took the corner to, what you think, might the chicest and prettiest boutique you've ever laid eyes on. the front was adorned with a gorgeous light blue awning with european style bell-shaped pendant lights making it almost glow during the day time.

"what the hell...ain't no way..." noabra is at a loss for words for how fancy it looks. "they have the money to rent out a place like this but no website?"

"or have a phone number." you mumble as you open nobara's car door. you turn around and give her a quick wave. she tells you to give her a call and tell her how it is after and you promise to do so. as nobara drives off, all the skepticism evaporates from your body looking at the dainty and cute decor all over the place.

you walk in to a fairly large lobby, with a desk in the middle and waiting chairs surrounding it. the calming scent of lavender, green tea, and patchouli hits your nose, and your guard immediately drops; the aroma relaxes you almost instantly.

you look around and are surprised to see only two other women in the waiting chairs on their phone. one of them seemed older, kind of like a mother, and the other seemed to be your age, but far more demure.

"hey, there! welcome to skin care daddy! we're determined to take care of you all your needs, no matter what! how can i help you today?" your head whips around to the guy sitting at the reception desk, and you feel a bit embarrassed; he must've noticed how lost you looked here, and you force yourself to straighten up and regain your composure as you slowly walk to the front desk. you take a closer at the guy with shaggy black hair sitting in the chair in front of you.

"hi..." you squint to see the faint print on his name badge. "yuta".

"yup! that's me!" he chirps. you know he probably has to exaggerate his good mood for the sake of the job but it kind of irks you. "what can i do for you today, miss?"

"yeah, uhh...what services do you guys offer? i tried looking online but you guys didn't have a website and..." your wandering eyes can't help but look around skeptically around the front desk and the doors on either side of the lobby.

"well, we offer whatever you need, miss. just tell us what you're looking for and we'll have it. i guarantee it."

"okay, well. my sister's getting married next weekend and..." you gesture to your face. "my life has been all sorts of stressful and hormonal so honestly, i'm just looking for something that can help me feel refreshed-"

you're interrupted by someone entering in from the right side of the lobby door. it's a woman who, you must say, looks glowing. her skin is bright and she quite looks like she's almost levitating. guiding her out of the spa is a young man, around your age, with blond hair and round glasses. he's unbelievably built, with strong hands rubbing her back softly and a chiseled jaw. he's wearing what you think is the uniform of this place: white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone and black slacks.

your breath gets caught in your throat momentarily. no fucking way. this guy works here? he's so fucking...hot. you have to force your eyes to tear away from him as you try your hardest to focus back on your conversation with yuta.

yuta chuckles as he follows your gaze. "ah, yes, mr. nanami is a customer favorite esthetician here. anyway, seems like you're going through a rough time and you came to the perfect place! normally, i would recommend the oxygen facial, but since you said you have a wedding..." yuta types something on the computer for a bit. "personally, i would recommend the full body tokyo special."

you're not entirely what an oxygen facial is, nor what the tokyo special is, and you feel even more stupid asking this guy who seems to be in college for more information.

"um, sorry, what's a full body tokyo special? i think i just need a really good facial."

"oh no worries, miss. i apologize. the full body tokyo special consists of a hands-on full body aromatherapy massage and our famous milkbomb facial, which'll do wonders for your skin." he winks at you. why did he wink at you?

you're unable to think about whether or not you even wanna do anything here when a group of men barge in through the left door of the lobby, laughing loudly, before lowering their voices.

one of the men is a dark haired man, seemingly a little older than the other two and yourself, but also very much ripped just like mr. nanami. you tried not to stare at the skin tight black shirt he wore that attenuated his pecs but miserably failed. he took the quickest glance at you and gave the faintest smile, revealing a slight scar on the left side of his lip. a scar that makes him sexier? you've gotta be kidding me. you follow his gaze to the older woman you saw sitting here when you came in, who know looks completely enamored by the man.

"there's my favorite mama," the man coos, holding an arm out for her as she skipped to him. he leads her to the other door, and you could hear them giggling and talking, as if this wasn't the first time they've seen each other.

"aight, see ya later, man." the other dark haired man said to his friend, before making eye contact with you, and then giving a slight smirk to yuta. he heads straight to the demure girl you saw when you walked in, and holds his hand out to her and she blushes and grabs it.

"th-thanks for seeing me again, geto-san." the girl says so softly that you have to strain your ears to listen.

"i told you to call me suguru..." you hear him joke as they disappear behind the door.

"like what you see?" you turn your head to the last guy, who now is far too close for your liking. you take a small step back, which makes him chuckle.

"yuta-kun! who do we have here?" the man asks boisterously. despite being indoors, he's wearing dark circled sunglasses. what a douche.

"oh, hey gojo-sensei. this is..." yuta looks at you, waiting for you to say your name.

"y/n." you say a bit too late, still trying to process the barrage of attractive men that just showed up all at once and what they had to do with the spa.

yuta starts filling in the man about what you were looking for, as you take in the man who's intently listening to him. he has white hair, and is wearing the same uniform as mr. nanami was, with three buttons undone and his hair slightly disheveled. he's also really tall. like really tall. like he towers over you easily tall. but also, just as well built like everyone else.

what is this place? you knew men could work in salons and parlors and spas, but this place seemed to be exclusively run by them. and not just any men, really attractive men. and what's worse is that you were not complaining. sure, it's a bit weird but there's really no other choice for you at this point.

"ahh, the tokyo special, huh?" he says, turning at you and giving you a bright smile which you suspect he gives to everyone who comes in here. "nice choice."

"he's the one who chose it, and i'm not even sure if i want it." you say, pointing to yuta, and trying your hardest to stand your ground. you have to really make sure this spa treatment is actually gonna help and not just a scam for your money.

"well, he chose right. i've never seen you here before, so you must be new here, right?" you nod, suddenly feeling really small and embarrassed about your attitude before. god, you're never one to behave badly in front of service workers. the hormones are really doing a number on your mood. maybe you could benefit from this "tokyo special".

he leans down to meet your eyes and takes off his sunglasses, and you’re face to face with the most gorgeous ocean blue eyes you've ever seen. through an almost hypnotic effect, you feel much calmer than you did before, and more trusting of him. "well, lucky for you, i've got an opening right now. i'll help you feel right at home." he gives you a wink, and you can't help but feel there's some other hidden meaning behind what he says.

"umm...well..." you say, holding on to the thin strings of your resolve.

"gojo-sensei is the best masseuse and esthetician here, especially for first timers like yourself, miss y/n. i guarantee you'll leave the establishment more than satisfied with his work." yuta assures you with a smile.

and with that, your resolve completely dissolves and you nod and hand him your credit card and he takes the information. gojo touches the small of your back ever so slightly, and you hope he doesn't feel you shiver at his touch.

"he just loves kissing up to me so he can get a full time job here after college. i'm his favorite cousin, after all." he says, making you giggle as you walk through the two panel doors into the spa.

"thanks for taking me in during your opening, mr. gojo." you say politely, feeling grateful as he leads you down the corridor of the neat, clean, and minimally decorated hallway.

"i think you're gonna be the one taking me in," gojo mumbles under his breath while opening the door to a room that looked like a doctor's office. a single lavender massage table greets you with small cabinets on either side.

you're unable to catch what he said. "what? did you say something?"

"i said call me satoru. no need to get so formal with me, i'm just some dude who works here." he chuckles. he locks the door as you sit up on the massage table awkwardly, unsure of how you should be positioning yourself or what exactly he was planning.

gojo goes to the corner and pulls out a fluffy white bathrobe and hands it to you. you're blown away by how soft it feels in your hands -- luxury at it's finest, you guess.

"okay, i just have a quick questionnaire i need you to fill out, probably will take around a minute," he says, as he grabs a clipboard with a pen attached to it from another drawer and takes a seat on a padded lab stool. he rolls closer to you until his long slender legs are almost touching your calves.

"alrighty here...okay, first question…” the questions gojo reads off are normal enough, with various clauses consenting to the spa treatment, confirming your age, and so forth. they don’t start getting weird until later. “ok last three, we’re almost done.” you notice a shit-eating grin on his face as he scribbles your answer to the previous question. “okay, are you a virgin?”

“what?!” 

“are you a virg-”

“i heard you the first time. what kinda question is that? that’s so invasive, what the hell are you play-” you’re ready to give an entire speech to this guy about how inappropriate and irrelevant the question is. 

“it’s fine if you don’t wanna answer it, i just can’t continue the treatment if you don’t.” gojo says this so simply and nonchalantly, as if the question was about your favorite color, and not an intimate detail about your sexuality. 

“okay, fine. not a virgin.” you cross your hands in irritation. 

“not…a...virgin…” you hear him say under his breath as he scribbles something you cannot see on his clipboard. you try leaning forward to see what he’s writing (and if there really was a question like that on the questionnaire but he quickly pulls it closer to his chest, giving you a teasing smirk. “are you on birth control?”

“y-yes?” 

“good to know. last question: got any STDs i need to know about?”

oh, for fuck’s sake. this is ridiculous. does he think you’ve never been to a spa before? the usual thai place you go to never asks this many questions. “do you have any STDs i need to worry about? what is this? 20 questions?”

“you can ask them to me back, i’d be happy to answer them.” he says calmly with a coy smile. “in fact, i’ll answer them right now. no, no, and no.”

you sign in defeat. “no for me too.” maybe this is what happens when a place has like, ten thousand 5 star reviews on google maps. they just ask the weirdest questions. there’s a small voice berating yourself for folding so easily regarding his questions, but whatever. you’re ready to get this treatment over with. 

“okay, take off all your clothes and wear the bathrobe. do you want me to step outside?”

what the hell kinda question is that? of course, he’s supposed to step outside? “um, yeah?” you say it almost obviously, not feeling bad about the attitude that’s coming out of you. 

gojo raises his hand in surrender. “sorry, just askin’...” he grabs his clipboard and steps out of the room, saying he’ll be back in five minutes for the warm up massage. you quickly undress yourself. you have a feeling he’s the type to come in within seconds of knocking on the door without checking to see if you’re decent. you’re unsure where to place your clothes other than the table next to the cabinet so you neatly fold them, hiding your underwear and bra within the folds of your yoga pants and sweatshirt. 

just as promised, gojo shows up five minutes later with one knock before welcoming himself in. he’s holding a dark colored glass bottle filled with a calming essential oil for massaging, and turns on the diffuser in the room. 

“thanks for undressing,” he says, looking at the neatly folded pile of clothes on the counter. “alright, here’s how this is gonna go. i’m gonna give you a nice full body massage to loosen your muscles up, and then we do the facial last, sound good, princess?” 

your skin tingles at him calling you that nickname, but you ignore it. there’s no way i can let my mind wander like that when he’s giving me a massage. you nod your head in agreement, and lay on your back slowly, fidgeting with the ends of  your bathrobe so that you’re not totally exposed to him. gojo slowly hovers his hands over you and lightly touches your stomach, patting it to get your attention, but it causes you suck in a breath a bit too loudly. 

“gotta go on your stomach for me for this one,” he says, urging you to flip around. “gonna undo this, okay?” he tugs at the knot you made on your bathrobe and you nod. he slowly undoes it, and you feel exposed as your breasts peek out through the sides. you cross your legs almost immediately, feeling incredibly exposed in front of a fully clothed gojo. 

you quickly turn on your stomach before he has a chance to take in your body. you feel his cold fingers slowly expose your back, as he stops right before the hump of your ass. you hear him squeezing out some of the oil and warming it up in his hands as he gets to work on your back. 

you suck in a sharp breath between your teeth as his cold fingers explore the knots on your back. 

“cold isn’t it? you’ll get used to my fingers, promise,” he says sweetly, as he hits a spot on your back that’s been particularly bothering you as of late. it’s too late when you let out a moan, and you hear him chuckle. “hit the right spot, didn’t i?”

he continues to undo the knot on your back, and moan back a breathy affirmation as you continue to try (and fail) to hold back your noises. “f-fuck, gojo, that feels s-so good…” you say in between his movements. 

you feel his hot breath in your ear. “told ya to call me satoru, don’t forget it next time, princess.” this time, the nickname goes straight to your pussy. it’s hard to cross your legs when you’re on your stomach and feeling delirious with the pleasure that came from the pressure of his slender fingers. 

unbeknownst you, your soft moans are slowly making their way down to gojo’s member, as he gets harder by the second. he doesn’t want to make it so obvious just yet – he’s just getting start after all. he can’t just blow his load this close into the session, but you’re sure as hell giving him a run for his money. 

“feel good?” you moan in response. gojo slowly inches his fingers down closer and closer to your ass, until it reaches the hem of your bathrobe covering it. “gonna move this down so i can do your legs, yeah?”

gojo will admit, he was a bit too excited to see your ass as he removed your bathrobe down before you could give a proper “yes” but it didn’t matter when you’re soft breaths were giving him the answer he needed. it takes everything in him to not knead the rounds of your perfect ass (he swears your cheeks were made for his hands) and move straight to your calves. 

he slowly massages the soles of your feet and calves with the oil as he moves closer to your thighs, all while relishing in your sweet moans. once he’s at your thighs, the real fun begins. gojo knows this routine like the back of his hands. 

you hear him sigh in confusion. “is everything okay?” you turn your head slightly to see him. 

“sorry about this princess, but you’re gonna have to spread your legs a little bit for me. it’s hard to get every inch of you warmed up, otherwise.”

you obey him almost too easily, and shift your thighs so that there’s more room for him to touch with his fingers. gojo’s hands reach up to slightly cup your ass, before his thumbs slowly slide into your inner thigh, lightly massaging you.

your breaths are getting shallower and louder, and you pray he doesn't go any closer to your pussy so he doesn’t see how soaked you are. you’ve never had a massage like this before, but you also don’t want him to stop. 

gojo’s fingers play with the space of your inner thigh before he spreads you apart, exposing you. you breath catches in your throat, and he performs the next part of his act. 

“we’ve got a pretty unconventional way of massaging our clients, princess.” you hear his voice straining. “gotta make sure you’re relaxed everywhere, but you gotta let me take care of you. think you can do that? all you have to do is relax, and let daddy do everything for you.” you can hear the lust dripping from his voice, but to be honest, you couldn’t give a shit at this point. 

“y-yeah, please, satoru, whatever you want. please, i just…i just feel so good right now,” you say, your eyes shut tight, and your hips practically squirming under his touch. you think you might go insane if he doesn’t touch you there in the next second. 

hook, line, and sinker. who’s gojo to deny your request? he graduated top of his class at his cosmetology and esthetician university, after all. his fingers glide almost too easily between your folds as he starts playing with your throbbing core. he can feel how needy your pussy is for his hands as he spreads your slick all over your core. 

the pleasure immediately gets caught in the pillow that muffles your moans. fuck, so this is what all the reviews were talking about. you feel his fingertips dancing around your clit and you want to shout at him to pay attention to it. 

“s-satoru~ p-please…i need you right there…” you say in between your moans. 

“where? here?” gojo’s finger taps your clit lightly, and it makes your entire body twitch with pleasure. he has to press down on the small of your back to keep you place as his fingers rub circles around your bundle of nerves, making you whimper. you unconsciously grind your hips against his fingers, trying to get close to your release. 

“need a better angle. face down, ass up.” gojo commands, and your body conforms to his words. you prop your lower body up with your knees while your face is sideways against the head of the massage table. he uses this now better angle to really rub his fingers into your folds and bundle of nerves, sending electricity throughout your body. you feel the dam building up inside you and threatening to break. 

“satoru~ i’m-i’m getting c-close…ah~” you hands grip on to the sides of the massage table as you brace for the earth shattering orgasm to rip through you, and with gojo’s deft fingers, you’re on cloud nine in no time. 

your body slumps back down and your eyes roll back as the vibrations of your release still radiate through your body. you hear  your pulse pumping through your head as you try to catch you breath, but you feel gojo’s now warm hands flip you on your back, and his face inches from yours. 

“you took that so well, princess. we’re not done, yet. there’s still another part of your body that needs to warm up.” you don’t have time to process what he means as he inserts two fingers into his mouth and then deep inside your entrance. your gasp is muffled by his mouth connecting to yours, hard, teeth and all. his fingers are long, and they easily find your sensitive g-spot as they curl upwards and bully your internal bundle of nerves. it’s quite embarrassing how quickly you’re ready for another release, and how hungry your entrance was for his finger, practically sucking them in and clenching around them immediately. 

“f-fuck~ i’m about to-” you don’t get to finish your sentence, as another orgasm rips through your body. gojo kisses you again to block your moans, and your hands wrap around his neck to pull him even closer to you. he playfully bites on your lower lip as you ride out your release on his fingers. 

gojo’s kisses turn into soft quick pecks as your breathing steadies and your eyes can focus again. “we’re not done yet,” he teases, slowly taking his slick coated fingers out of you. 

you don’t even have the energy to respond back as he flips you on you back. through heavy eyes, you look back up at him, biting back a moan as he restarts rubbing circles on your extremely sensitive clit. he needs to take off his shirt and fuck you already. 

“need something?” gojo teases, sensing your neediness from just your eyes. 

“take off your shirt, dumbass.” you say through gritted teeth. 

“try again.” he presses harder on your clit, and you let out an unsanctioned yelp through your teeth. 

“f-fuck~ please take off your shirt, dumbass.”

he smiles. “well, if you insist…” he rolls his eyes, feigning inconvenience, but the slowly growing tent in his pants says otherwise. gojo unbuttons his shirt, revealing a perfectly sculpted torso. now this is just unfair. 

“geez, my eyes are up here.” he teases, smirking at you as you quickly meet his eyes and feel your face flush. he unbuckles his belt and you slowly sit up from the massage table. you’re overcome with the urge to touch him, everywhere. you hook your finger to the belt loop of his pants and pull him closer to you. 

gojo smirks as he wraps his arms around hips and leans down to kiss you deeply. you feel your core ache for his touch again as his tongue explores your mouth again. you trace his perfectly sculpted torso, the indents of his abs slightly sweaty to your touch. your hands slowly make their way to the zipper of his slacks, but gojo immediately grabs your wrist to stop you from taking them fully off. 

“not just yet…” he murmurs in between kisses. while his lips are still locked on you, he slowly pushes your body back on the massage table and starts kissing down your bare stomach, the measly bathrobe long since discarded somewhere on the floor. gojo leaves small wet kisses along your body until he reaches your inner thighs. 

you suck in a breath as you involuntarily spread your legs for him, earning an enthusiastic hum from gojo, who’s still continuing to leave a trail of kisses that are inching closer and closer to where you need his mouth to be the most. “p-please~” you moan, your eyes closed in bliss. 

“please what, princess? use your words,” gojo coos, coming face to face with your soaking wet core. he blows on the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing your legs to twitch.

you can’t stand his fucking teasing but you need to be eaten out, so bad. “f-fuck y-you, gojo~” you say, pushing your core up to his face, trying to aim for his mouth before he easily pushes your hips back on the table. you hear him tsk in disapproval, and tears welling up in your eyes in desperation. “please, your tongue…inside me…please~” you whimper weakly. 

“since you begged so nicely…” gojo says before he immediately plunges his tongue inside you, almost making you scream. his tongue expertly explores your folds and sucks on your clit, making you inadvertently grind on his face. “y’taste so delicious, princess,” he says between licks as he eats you out like it’s the last pussy on earth. 

his ministrations with his tongue has you teetering on the edge in record time, and you’re threatening to spill within minutes of him eating you out. as the third wave of pleasure washes over you, you don’t have the energy in you to ask for permission as you feel your body tingle in the aftermath of it. you think you made a mess all over the massage table and gojo’s face, but you don’t have it in you to care as your eyes roll back. 

you feel gojo unbuckle his belt and take off his slack and underwear, exposing his hard member in his hands. you can see the precum leaking out the tip as you weakly lean on your elbows to prop yourself up. 

“see, princess, all those questions did have a reason after all…” he says in between breaths as he strokes himself, looking at your naked glistening body. you spread your legs further in anticipation of feeling him. “but there you were, being such a fuckin’ brat about answering them…” gojo says, eyebrows furrowing as he brings his tip closer to your core and you bite your lip in anticipation. 

“guess you better fuck the attitude outta me, then?” you say, looking up at him through heavy lidded eyes filled with mindless lust. you don’t even care about the consequences or who hears or even if you get your facial – you just need him. every part of your body craved him. 

gojo wastes no time at your suggestion, his tip entering you as you let out a lecherous moan. you feel the initial pain of his larger than average member tearing your tight entrance apart, and bite back a moan. gojo grits his teeth as he lets out a steady throaty groan. 

“fuck, princess. so fuckin’ tight. sure you’re not a virgin?” 

“s’too much satoru, y-you’re huge…ahh~” 

“too bad, princess.” he says, surprising you as he starts thrusting agonizingly slowly into you, bottoming out and effectively reaching the sensitive spot inside you. pain slowly turns into pleasure as you indulge in the feeling of your g-spot getting kissed by his member – the spot that you can never reach by yourself using your own fingers.  

“f-faster, please~” you urge gojo, and he obliges almost immediately, quickening his pace. he bullies your sloppy and wet core, as he watches your titties bounce with every thrust. unlike most people his age, it’s times like this where gojo realizes he really fucking loves his job. 

he reaches out and gives your titties a rough squeeze while he remains unrelenting in his pace. he feels your pussy clench around him, and he knows you’re close, and if he’s being honest, so is he. but he cannot cum just yet, and definitely not before you do. gojo abandons your titties and slides down his fingers to your clit as he starts rubbing inelegant circles around it, getting you closer and closer to the edge. 

you feel the dam breaking once again as the combination of him rubbing and fucking you comes to a climax. the orgasm travels to every corner of your body, as you see stars in your vision while gojo fucks your brains out. you hold on to his shoulders to steady yourself. based on how sloppily gojo is getting, you can tell he’s about to get close, too. you’re about to brace for him to finish inside you, when he abruptly pulls out, earning him a confused look from you. 

“lay down,” he commands more than asks, as he hastily pushes your chest down on the massage table. your sweaty skin sticks to the faux leather, but you don’t pay attention as he moves to the side of your face, holding his soaked member near it. 

gojo starts stroking his throbbing leaking member sensually, and you innately open your mouth and stick your tongue out. so this is the facial? the dots connected in your head at the same time gojo’s ropes of warm cum decorated your face – chin, cheeks, mouth, and all. you hear gojo’s throaty groans as he finishes on you and make sure not a single drop that gets on or near mouth gets wasted, swallowing pridefully. 

gojo leans closer to your ear as he catches his breath from his climax. “that’s the milkbomb facial,” he says cheekily, and you can’t help but giggle. you both take a couple more seconds to catch your breath. you watch gojo as he puts on his pants and tucks in his shirt, looking like he didn’t just fuck the shit out of you. he runs his fingers through his hair quickly as he goes to the counter and pulls out a warm eucalyptus towel as he takes his time to gently wipe your face and body. 

“that was fun,” you murmur, looking at the ceiling, finally understanding what the reviews you read about this earlier place meant. you definitely came here, multiple times in one day for sure. 

gojo chuckles as he goes over to wash his hands and you notice his forearms are glistening with your release. “that’s why we’re the best spa out here, princess.”

you notice your legs shaking slightly, but you manage to hop off the massage table, slightly dazed. gojo notices and helps you get on your feet and put on your clothes. the entire activity is soft and gentle compared to how he was just a couple minutes before. 

everything that you both have done in the past hour finally dawns on you, and you suddenly feel very shy despite whatever the contrary happened on the massage table. it’s so awkward now, like, what do you guys even talk about now? does he do this to everyone? is this their entire schtick?

“do you…do this with all your clients?” you whisper to him as you follow him out into the hallway to the exit. you cross your hands tightly to your chest, as if it’s shrouding you from other people finding out what happened in the room behind you. 

“ah, i’m not one to kiss and tell.” gojo puts his hands in his pockets and glances back at you, giving you a quick wink as you follow behind him, trying to keep up with him as he turns corners.s

“oh, so you do do this everyone, huh?” you challenge, your shyness slowly melting away with gojo’s playful tone.. 

“did you enjoy it?”

a pause from you.. “yes.”

“then don’t worry about it, kitten.” gojo pauses before he opens the door and turns to you. “listen, i wouldn’t mind if you came here again for the tokyo special, you know. i’ll even give you a discount, too.” he says earnestly. 

you let out a giggle. “oh? a discount?”

“yeah, the tight pussy discount.”

“shut up!” you say, and you playfully smack his shoulder, and you both laugh. 

“so… is that a yes? i’ll see you next week?” 

you bite your lip. “maybe, i dunno.” you give him a wink before opening the door, and you both know fully well that you’ll be back on the massage table again in no time with gojo pounding into you. 

needless to say, gojo wasn’t lying when he said they were the best spa in town because by the time your sister’s wedding came around, your face was quite literally glowing. 

“wow! y/n – you’re just looking so radiant today! what’s your secret?” an auntie who’s name you cannot remember gleams, looking at you. 

you smirk, and try to hold back the heat from flushing your cheeks. “oh, just a really good facial,” you say. technically, you’re being honest, right?

“jesus, dude. is this all from skin care daddy?” nobara says, as the tenth person from the wedding compliments your skin. 

“you have no idea. they really know what they’re doing.” you say nonchalantly. you pull out your phone and text a recently saved number. 

you: got any slots for a tokyo special tomorrow?

within minutes you get a response: 

gojo: u know i do babygirl. btw a new guy just joined our spa. hope it’s cool sukuna joins to observe  😈

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojou satoru #satoru gojo #satoru gojou #gojo x reader #gojou x reader #gojo #gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk gojo #jjk x y/n #gojo x you #gojou satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you

[feyascorner]

6 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. You remember how the sunlight glistened against his skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.

It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.

With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press the sharp end against the tip of your finger.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. 6.4k words,,,tav is better than me i would've thrown hands like twelve years ago,,,I HAVE NO IDEA HOW I WROTE THIS IN LIKE TWO DAYS???? also thank you for all your comments they really motivate me to write!! so have this monster of a chapter early as thanks!!

"You'll kill them, Astarion," you mumble. "They might not have had the power to help you, but they're still your siblings. I don't want them to die hating you."

"They're not my siblings--not really. I don't care what they think of me. Hells, they could haunt me even in the afterlife, as annoying as that would be, but they're no innocents either. They've brought in as many souls as I have," he responds, his jaw visibly clenching at the thought. "I don't care if all seven thousand of them die hating me as long as you're here."

And while you feel flattered, you can't disregard the worry driving a hole through your conscience. Ever perceptive, he lifts a hand to brush stray strands of hair out of your face, his fingertips tracing your jaw. His voice is but a hushed whisper.

"You understand, don't you, my love? It would set me free--after two hundred years of forcing myself through hell--I can finally free myself from Cazador," his tone sours at just the mention of his master's name, and he intertwines his fingers with yours, drawing your attention back to him.

"It is what you want for me, no? For me to be happy?"

It is what you want. Just not like this.

Music was your way of releasing the mountain of feelings you kept locked away in your chest, waiting for the right person to recognize them for what they are. You’d hoped someone would understand the meaning behind your lyrics without you telling them outright, and they’d know what it truly meant to you. And for a while, you’d believed Astarion would be the key to this safe.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

“While I usually entertain your certainly out-of-the-box plans, this is bordering on just foolish, I’m afraid,” Gale sighs, eyes tracing you as you pace around the house, stuffing every possible weapon and healing potion into a brown sack. Despite his insistence, you ignore him, testing the blade of a knife against the edge of the table. It’s not entirely dull, nor is it sharper than the dagger in your drawer, but it’ll have to do. “Simply charging into the tavern won’t do much good if you’ll be overwhelmed in number anyway.”

“I know what I’m doing, Gale,” you hiss, snatching an Alchemist’s Fire and shoving it a tad too hard into your bag. He tenses. “If they want to talk to me so badly, then I’m not waiting around for them to attack another one of my friends—I’ll go to them.”

“Yes, your determination is certainly praise-worthy, but can we please just sit down and think this through before running into a battlefield with a few knives? This is basically a suicide mission.”

“The wizard is right, even if it’s hard to believe,” Lae’zel announces from the corner of the room, wiping a cloth on her sword. “When I arrived, they’d already fled. They could be anywhere by now, and they’ve had more than enough time to plan another ambush if we were to charge now. We must be smart about this. I am a warrior, but I am no fool.”

“I’ll go by myself,” you say, a sense of finality in your voice. “They already showed what they’d do if someone they didn’t want to talk to approached them. I’ll just talk to them.”

Gale stares with lidded eyes. “So why are you packing so many explosives, exactly?”

“...Precaution?”

Silence befalls the room, and you take it as a sign to finish your preparations. All you can hear is the crackling of the fireplace and the rain falling against the windows of the home. The lot of you had somehow managed to stabilize Shadowheart by the time Lae’zel returned, and while she’d been conscious earlier, you insisted she rest before she consumed herself with the investigation again. You didn’t miss the way she limped back to her room with little to protest against you.

“Take the spawn with you.”

Two jaws drop at the words, the only one remaining fixed belonging to Lae’zel.

“The kainyank is living here to help. Not cause more problems for us. And so far, he’s only done one of the two things, and I’m dangerously close to turning to my blade if he doesn’t choose otherwise,” she says. “The spawn are searching for him, too. If blood breaks out, you must use him to flee safely.”

Gale blinks. “As in…use him as a body shield?”

“What else is he good for?”

While the wizard seems positively appalled, you can see the contemplation flicker in his eyes before he shakes his head. He's always been more considerate than the rest of you. “No, Tav would never agree to such a-”

“Okay.”

They both whip their heads toward you, and you avoid their piercing gazes, staring down at the dull blade in your hand. “It might help, too, if we find out why they want him. There are nearly 3000 spawns in the city—we can’t kill all of them, at least not immediately. It’d be best if we convinced them to leave, and the best way of doing that is to understand what they want in the first place.”

Lae’zel narrows her eyes. “Then you must swear it. Swear that if Astarion were to face risks, you will leave him behind. If he were to turn on you, you slice through his throat without a second of hesitation. He is there to aid you–nothing else.”

“I will,” the words feel hot on your tongue.

And so, you soon find yourself standing in front of his door, hand reaching for the door handle. There’s a slight pause right as you touch the cool metal, but you bite your tongue and shove it open, praying he’s still not as ravenous as he was a few hours ago. And much to your surprise, he appears wholly composed.

He lowers his book to his lap, eyes training themselves on you as they dart from your bag and then back to your face. The window’s wide open, bathing him in the moonlight, with dark curtains tied to the wall to keep them from obscuring his view of the city. He raises a brow. “What could you possibly want from me at two in the morning? Come here for a cuddle?”

You’re scowling again.

“I need you-”

“I’m flattered, but I fear you may stab a butter knife into my eye, so I’ll have to decline.”

“Not like that.” Your frown creases deeper at his smug grin. “We’re going to the Blushing Mermaid to find the spawn.”

“Just us?”

“They want to see us.”

“And if I refuse?”

The answer is almost immediate, cutting through the atmosphere like a knife on bread. “I hear the bloody bedrolls in the Duke’s dungeon are very comfortable.”

He drops his smile at this, and a tiny spark of pride puffs your chest. He seems to weigh his choices before snapping his book shut and standing from the bed, snatching a comb from his bedside table before pacing up to you, pocketing it behind him.

"A comb?"

He shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, I doubt you’ll be giving me a weapon of any sort, so I must make do.”

You don’t correct him.

As the two of you make your way downstairs, you hear your other companions speaking.

“I didn’t expect you of all people to defend Astarion,” Gale says in disbelief, still comprehensive as Lae’zel poorly cuts up slices of an apple.

“I am doing no such thing, istik,” she mutters. “I am giving him a choice. Either to pick up his dead weight and prove his life is worth more than the dirt on my shoes or die at my hand.”

The walk to the Blushing Mermaid is painfully awkward. To you, anyway, because he seems positively unbothered the entire time. Seeing him leisurely follow behind you is irritating—and it bothers you more than you’d like to admit.

By the time you survey the area around the tavern, you’ve discerned they must be inside, considering there are no ambushes awaiting your arrival. While it’s a relief, it also increases the anxiety of what lies inside the tavern itself, and you confirm your knives are at your disposal if it were ever to come to that. You sincerely hope it doesn’t. Astarion sighs dramatically for the umpteenth time as you approach the front doors, and you finally snap to look at him with a glare.

“Will you stop breathing so damn loud?”

The change in your attitude toward him is apparent, but he doesn't seem to care. If anything, he seems more pleased with you than he was before every time you shoot him an annoyed glance or something along those lines. He responds with lazy answers, but it's better than the bitter ones he gave you before.

You're not terribly surprised, though. He's always loved pissing people off for his own entertainment, and it would be an understatement to say that he's been somewhat successful with you.

“I’m not breathing, my dear. I don’t need to, remember?”

“Then what is your problem?” you hiss between your teeth. “Are you trying to wake up the entire city with your insistent groaning?”

“Must we do this tonight, of all days? Couldn’t this wait till tomorrow?”

“No!” you say in exasperation. “That gives them too much time to heal and recover from Shadowheart and Gale. It has to be tonight, just in case they do decide to fight—then we’ll have an easier time because, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s just us two!”

He sighs again, and you swear you might pluck a strand of his hair for good measure. And just as you shove past him and reach for the door, he clears his throat again. Loudly.

“For God’s sake, what?” you nearly yell.

He smiles at you, pointing at the front door. “Well, if we’re looking to avoid an ambush, perhaps we should find another way in than the main entrance. Unless my prior knowledge as a rogue proceeds me.”

You blink. You recognize the validity of his statement and feel your face flare, and you immediately march past him again—the other way this time—and search for the nearest wall you can climb up to the roof. You hear him snicker, but you do your best to ignore it. 

Somehow, you manage to climb in through the window, admittedly a lot louder than him, but you don’t think it’s fair to compare yourself to him when he has footsteps lighter than a child’s. Hidden behind one of the tables, you peer into the rest of the tavern, which is completely empty save for the bottles of alcohol scattered everywhere. You turn to signal to him that the coast is clear, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Immediately, your face drains of color.

“Right here, darling.”

He drops down from seemingly thin air, and you gasp, nearly letting out a shriek if it weren’t for your hand covering your mouth. He grins at that.

Bastard.

“There’s nobody in the entire building–at least, not visible to the eye,” he confirms, glancing around the room.

“How do you know that?”

He points at the ceiling, and your eyes follow it. “Someone decided to build such useful beams on the roof. You can see the entire place from up there. Care to take a look?”

While you would have thanked him if he had been any other person, you only march straight by him. “Don’t do anything without telling me first.”

“No ‘thanks, Astarion’?” He quirks a brow but huffs when you ignore him. “Very well then, my liege. No need to acknowledge a humble servant such as I. But I shall let you know when I’m about to take any questionable decision.”

You’re starting to wonder if his presence is worth the headache it gives you.

Pacing around the tavern, it seems all too normal. No blood splatters against the wall, no broken chairs—hells, even the booze cups look clean, which is a rarity for the Blushing Mermaid. You check each room, inspecting down to the last cups in case there are traces of blood in them, but to no avail.

It’s like there was never anyone here.

“You look like you’re having trouble, my dear,” Astarion clicks his tongue mockingly, leaning back in one of the more luxurious chairs he’s decided is his own.

“Considering the only company I decided to bring along is lounging around like a bum, I’m not surprised,” you say back, now searching the smallest cracks in the walls for some sort of secret passage. It’s strange. Even though your companions had spoken of the bodies they encountered when facing the spawn, there’s not a single speck of blood in sight. Neither is there anything outside but the whistle of the wind.

“This particular wall must be quite fascinating.”

You fight the need to groan and whip around to snap at him, but he’s suddenly just a foot away from you, staring at the spot you’d been squinting at. Gods, you hate how quiet he is when he walks.

“As wonderful as it is getting a fresh breath of air,” he feigns disappointment with a half-hearted sigh, turning to walk toward the entrance. “I believe we’ve done what we can. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d love to return to my book–”

The wooden floor underneath him creaks. It sounds hollow.

As if there’s something underneath.

“The basement,” you blink, eyes wide. “The hag’s lair.”

He stares at you as if you’ve taken too many mushrooms. “It was sealed up after we rid of that dreadful woman. Good riddance, too, I mean, I’m not particularly fond of children, but eating them, even I wouldn’t be able–”

You rush toward the very corner of the tavern, sensing that he’s following you regardless of his obvious distaste toward your decision. There, you push against a table perched on top of the basement latch and test its locks.

It’s open.

“Heavens, it reeks here. How didn’t I smell it before?”

“Of what?” You sniff the air. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Blood, my dear. Fairly recent, too, if my judgment hasn’t gotten rusty in the time I’ve spent cooped up in that room,” he pauses. “And I haven’t gotten rusty, to be clear.”

“Right,” you retort, reaching down to pull the latch open. You don’t see him do the same, and you glance at him quizzically.

“Gods no,” he says, when he realizes why you’re staring. “I’m doing no such thing that ruins these nails.”

You sigh. Loudly.

The latch opens relatively easily, but you make an effort not to simply swing it open in fear the occupants inside might be warned of your arrival. You prop the trap door open against a chair and begin your descent down the stairs, remaining as silent as possible.

The first thing you can notice is that he’d been right.

The stench of blood burns in your nose, and you immediately cover it with your sleeve to avoid inhaling anymore. You’ve smelt enough of your companion’s blood today, and you’d rather not continue the streak with the blood of complete strangers. Astarion, however, frowns.

“Such a waste,” he mumbles.

When you turn to where he’s looking, there’s a pile of bodies—poor victims, no doubt—lying over a puddle of their collective blood mixing with one another. It almost feels inhumane to leave them that way, just hours after their death, as if they’re cattle to be used.

Though, in this case, they are cattle.

“Are you sure it’s them?”

“I’m telling you it is!”

“Where’s their lyre, then?”

“How would I know that?”

You locate the source of the whispers instantly, reaching for one of your daggers as your eyes bore into the corners of the lair that are obscured from your view. Astarion steps forward before you can figure out a plan to approach them, arrogance exuding from his very body as he holds nothing but the comb tucked in his back pocket. “We can hear you, you fools. Come out before I lose my patience.”

“What are you doing?” you hiss.

“They’re only a few spawns, my dear. Nothing like Cazador—no need to be so cautious.”

You open your mouth to protest, but a woman emerges from the shadows, her eyes trained on your own as she marvels at your mere presence. You realize she’s not alone as multiple vampires begin to emerge from different corners of the room, all a safe distance away but not enough to ease the nerves jittering in your stomach. She steps toward you. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”

Another spawn steps beside her, and you immediately notice how ravenous he seems, eyes almost glistening with hunger as they bore straight into you. The woman puts a hand on his neck, seemingly soothing him, before he slumps his shoulders again, but the pure violence swirling in his head doesn’t seem to vanish. She then looks to Astarion, and the expression on her face morphs into something more akin to dread. “And you, brother.”

“Dalyria.” Astarion only stares with lidded eyes, visibly unfazed.

You instinctively scan the entire lair, searching for any differences you can spot since the last time you were here. The only glaring thing besides the bodies piled in the corner is the study desk on the other side of the room, scattered with different potions and concoctions. Behind the desk is an entire wall plastered with diagrams—most of which study the anatomy and functionality of what you can only determine to be a vampire judging from the fangs. There are also beds everywhere—though they look like they could collapse any second—and the room almost looks like a hospital.

The atmosphere between the siblings is so uncomfortable you’d think they’ll start attacking one another any second.

“Is Leon here?” you finally cut through, lowering your hand away from your blade. “I need to speak with him—technically, all of you.”

“How curious. We were hoping to speak with you as well,” she says, motioning all the other spawn to stand down. It does little to ease you. “By all means, feel free to go first.”

You take the opportunity, too exhausted, to demonstrate polite etiquette. “The spawn are causing too much trouble in the city, Dalyria. They’re killing too many people, and it’s getting noticed by more than enough people. At this rate, you’ll lose some of your own if the Fist figure out how you guys are hiding throughout the city.”

“...Yes, I’m aware.”

The resignation in her voice makes your throat bob, but you continue anyway. “I’m saying we need to get you guys somewhere more stable. Whether it be the Underdark or elsewhere, we can’t have you staying here.”

“I see,” she says slowly. “I appreciate you trying to talk this out with us, but I’m afraid I cannot grant your request.”

Your shoulders tense, and you can see Astarion shift beside you. “You don’t understand, sister. There’s going to be an outright war at this rate-”

“Baldur’s Gate is our home as well, Astarion. You, of all people, should know this,” she demands. “We have a right to remain here, and if the Fist insists on forcing us out, we have no choice but to retaliate.”

“But you’re killing the city off!” you gawk in disbelief, unable to believe what you’re hearing.

“We’re surviving,” she corrects, the corners of her lips turning downward. “Surely you can’t hate us for that.”

“Then…” you blink at her, positively appalled at her words. “Why the hells did you need to speak with me? What was worth putting my companion through hell?”

“...There is a way—for both parties to benefit.” She looks down at her hands, then back up at you. “I didn’t expect the both of you to come together. Our informants were correct when they claimed to see Astarion in your possession. In all honesty, we technically only needed one of you, but this makes things a lot quicker.”

Confused but desperately wanting an answer, you urge her to continue. Only you can see the way Astarion’s hand slips toward his pocket, where his comb lies.

“We were going to ask you to bring him to us, you see. But it appears you’ve already done the hard part.”

The dreaded intuition in the back of your mind tells you something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

“Me? What do you need me for?” he scowls.

She disregards him and continues speaking to you, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “If you turn him over to us, you’ll never have to see him again. That is what you want, yes?”

Both you and the pale elf freeze.

“I watched as my brother nearly killed you the day of the ritual,” she continues. “I understand how you feel being betrayed by someone you thought shared your pain. And I believe this is a way to relieve you of that pain—and finally move onto a new stage of your life.”

She acts as if Astarion is the only thing holding you from moving on from the past few months of your life. And if she’d said so a week ago, you would have nothing to defend yourself with. But you’ve cut the few strings left that tie yourself to him. You remind yourself that you no longer care for him, regardless of the slight squeeze in your chest. You’ve already sworn to force yourself to disregard him, and you want to say all these things to her, but nothing comes out. So, instead, you keep your mouth sealed.

Astarion scoffs from beside you.

“For God’s sake, please tell me you’re not actually considering this. Let’s just force the madwoman out and go,” his voice attempts to stay firm, but it’s high-pitched at the end. He’s panicking.

You don’t respond to him, and he stiffens. “...My main concern is the city. If you think you can use my personal matters to convince me to just let you keep killing all these people–”

“That matter will resolve itself in its own time. We’ll return to the Underdark—or wherever it is you wish, and you won’t have to spend your nights hunting us down anymore.”

With a dry throat, you fixate your gaze on her face, desperately trying to discern any hint of a crack in her mask. Instead, you find nothing. “Why would you do that? For one spawn?”

“I’m afraid that’s for me and my siblings to know. But I can promise you that no harm will come to you if you take this deal.”

For what seems like the millionth time this month, you have no idea what to do. Lae’zel’s words flood you like a wave crashing onto shore as you remind yourself that Astarion is here not as your ally but as a shield. If things are as Dalyria says, simply turning over the man standing next to you would end this entire ordeal. You could return to your everyday life of repairing the city, learning to heal and grow from the terrors of the illithid invasion. You could learn to let people in again.

You could learn to play music again in hopes of finding the person you dreamed would understand.

Such an enticing, perfect deal. It’s almost too perfect. But you’ve learned not to trust perfection, especially when handed to you by a vampire spawn.

Astarion, who had been observing your expression this whole time, almost seems to read your mind. Or perhaps he’s just feeling selfish, ready to defend himself. “You’ve created a lot of problems for me, dear sister. I’ve gotten accused of your own murders, thanks to your pets.”

The delirious spawn, who’d looked sluggish after Dalyria’s soothing, now bares his teeth at Astarion. Dalyria attempts to calm him again, but it’s no use. The bloodthirst cannot be satiated unless there’s blood spilled on his very hands.

Astarion doesn’t seem to take a hint—or maybe he does but chooses to simply ignore it. “I’ve always known you were strange, Dalyria, but really? Experimenting with your ‘useless procedures’ on fresh spawns? He looks positively possessed, sister. He might just resort to eating you instead.”

“They are not useless, Astarion,” she snaps. “I am a doctor. I’m only curing what needs to be cured.”

“Then tell me why you haven’t managed to cure yourself of our curse? You may be intelligent in medical aspects, but gods above, you are more foolish than Cazador himself if you really think you can cure vampirism.”

“I had nobody to test my ideas on for two centuries, Astarion! Now that I do, surely I can-”

“You’re starving them, Dalyria,” he snaps, tone drastically different from the banter you shared just minutes ago. “And they’ll give into the thirst sooner or later.”

His words are the final straw.

The spawn who’d been standing beside her launches himself toward you. Before you can even register what’s happening, his fangs are at your throat, your neck tilted so it shoots pain up your side. Just as you feel your skin split at the tips of his canines, Astarion rips him away from you so harshly that the spawn flies helplessly into the wall, which crumbles under his weight. Dust flies into your eyes, and you cough, wiping at them until it clears just enough to see Dalyria staring in horror.

“I told you, Dalyria. You are no doctor, not anymore,” Astarion scoffs, eyes narrowed into slits. “And I’m afraid I can’t let you kill my liege here, as I’d much hate to be trapped in a cell somewhere underground.”

You reach the specks of blood drops forming on your neck, horrified by the close encounter you had with death just seconds ago. The culprit of your injury lies unconscious beside the cracked wall, and you wonder just how hard he had to be thrown to be rendered in such a state. You can see the other spawns’ eyes practically glow at the sight of your blood—fresh, unlike the pile of corpses on the other side of the room.

She turns to you, desperation pouring from the wavering of her voice. “Please, don’t make me do this. Don’t make us enemies. All you need to do is give us Astarion. My brother, for heaven's sake!”

You think better of it. Something that obviously pleases Astarion if the way his face relaxes tells you anything.

“May I?” he glances at you.

Surely, there are ways–more civilized ways–-than drawing your blade, but the ferocious growling from the rest of the spawn tells you otherwise. You need to find out why she needs Astarion so badly, and clearly, she’s not willing to tell you unless it’s through pure force. You despise the idea as much as you despise the predicament you’re in, but you refuse to be attacked and deliver nothing back.  Just as you nod to his question, another spawn lunges, unable to resist the red staining your neck.

But it’s smart this time, choosing to eliminate any threats before turning to the full course. In this case, the only thing between you and the vampires is another vampire.

“Brother!” Dalyria shouts, horrified.

You don't bother calling his name, only barely manage to tackle Astarion out of the way before the spawn’s claw sinks into the very ground he was standing on just seconds ago.

As embarrassing as it is to practically crash on top of him, both of you wince because it’s more painful than anything. You force yourself up with your arms, and it’s then that you see even more spawn crawling from whatever shadows they hid in, and you realize you are terribly and most definitely outnumbered. By a lot. 

“Dalyria, if you’re truly a doctor, do something! Stop them, godsdammit!” you shriek in her direction.

“They’re not—they were doing so well!...” she gasps before she reaches for a tattered journal and desperately files through its pages in a frenzy. “They were nearly docile before. I don’t know why–”

You feel Astarion’s hands slip out of the sack you carry on your back, realizing you hadn’t even noticed him opening it. He’s still lying flat on the ground, and you look down at him, puzzled before he laughs bitterly.

“I’ll be borrowing this for a few minutes, darling.”

You barely dodge another spawn that comes flying at you, rolling off of him and practically slamming into the wall. And before you can crawl away, your knife—in Astarion’s hand—stabs through the spawn’s left eye through the back of their head, specks of their blood splattering against your cheek.

You want to throw up.

“No, don’t harm them! Please, just let us go!” Dalyria pleads, but you’re finished being patient with her. She clearly has no way of calming the spawn, and you’re tired of being thrown around like a ragdoll in the mess that is the lair.

You yank out the Alchemist’s Fire and chuck it at the nearest cluster of spawn—around 2 or 3—and flinch as the vial collides and explodes into flames right before your eyes, blowing your hair out of your face in a gust of smoke and wind. You swear you hear Astarion cackle in utter glee at the destruction, but you choose not to dwell on it, too busy figuring out how else you could get out of here alive.

“You’re ruining the patients!” Dalyria screams, and you almost regret not throwing the vial at her instead.

“Your spawn are the ones attacking us!”

Suddenly, her face goes impossibly pale, and you hear a hiss of pain from a few feet away. Astarion winces as one of the spawn claws at his chest leaves behind a reasonably deep wound following the path of their sharp nails. Your knife is kicked away from him, and you hear Dalyria again just as he reaches for the comb instead. “Brother, be careful!”

You’re not sure if she wants you and Astarion dead or not, but it’s seriously giving you backlash at this point.

He stabs the comb into the spawn’s neck and kicks him away, and you take the opportunity to send the knife he dropped through the air.

By some miracle, it pierces straight through the spawn’s arm. Astarion lets out a breathy laugh from the floor, attention glued to your handiwork. “Ha! And to think that could have been me!”

And while you want to admire your aim yourself, there’s no time. Dalyria’s footsteps rush up the stairs, out of the basement, and you realize you need to follow moments after Astarion, who’s already fleeing up the steps, cursing under his breath. “That demented wench!”

You stand to follow after him, but the remaining spawns are already blocking your way. There are only two more, but you brace yourself for the worst, reaching for whatever remaining weapons you have left in your sack. The smoke and debris feel suffocating in your lungs, but you have no choice but to push through, praying to whatever God you can remember at the moment that this be the last time you have to fight this many vampire spawn. Or any, for that matter.

You wish you had left your fighting days behind you when you defeated the elder brain, but you suppose even that was too much to ask for.

You arrive just in time to see the sunrise.

Lying against a wall is Astarion, who you find just before the sunlight hits the part of the ground he’s on. He’s clutching his shoulder, which drips with his own blood, and showing no signs of the quick vampire regeneration. You stare down at him, face stoic as you wait for him to say something.

Judging from his condition, you assume Dalyria got away.

“Leaving me to die here would be unwise,” he scoffs. “Though it’d be rather easy to let me burn to death in the sun, I must remind you that I much rather prefer decapitation if it’s all the same to you.” 

“I’ll consider it,” you reply curtly. "Can't promise anything, though."

He leans his head back, amused. The sunlight is just a few feet away now, and you wonder how long it's been since he's been outside to watch the sunrise. “You’ve always had a cruel streak in you. I just had to lure it out, sometimes, but when it did come out—Gods, you should have seen it yourself.”

“You’re delirious,” you remind him, observing just how much blood he’s losing. You remind yourself of your resentment when worry probes a small part of your heart. One that you hope dies soon. “Why aren’t you healing?”

“I haven’t been exactly feeding well, unfortunately. And days old boar’s blood can only sustain me so long, darling,” he lulls his head forehead, sneering to himself. “Now that I think about it, dying by sunlight sounds rather poetic, don’t you think? Perhaps you can make a song about my glorious death.”

He’s definitely unhinged from blood loss.

You sigh, tossing his arm over your shoulder as you deem the sunlight a bit too close now. It’s a slow process with your own body’s soreness, but you manage to drag him to a more shaded area, propping him against the wall there so that you can rummage through your sack for a healing potion. You stop when his hand latches onto your arm.

“What?” you frown.

“It won’t help. I need blood, my dear.”

“There’s none for you here.”

“The bodies in the basement,” he bites back a groan, more blood gushing out of his shoulder. “I can make use of them--give their deaths a sense of purpose."

The displeasure on your face must be apparent because he laughs.

You pause, lowering the sack onto the ground. While you’re illuminated by the sunlight now, he remains in the shadow of the building, only able to see the sun with how it reflects off of your skin. And you find that he’s no longer looking at you but looking past you into the glowing orb you call the sun. You remember how its light glistened against his own skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.

It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.

With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press its tip against the tip of your finger.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”

His eyes widen, and the temptation is more than evident with how his mouth falls open as if he tastes your blood from a few inches away. But as fast as it had come, he tears his eyes away. “I’m not taking your blood.”

“Stop with your prideful act, Astarion. You’re going to bleed out.”

“I wouldn’t die, exactly. I would just remain unconscious until I can properly heal myself.”

You spare him a long, hard stare. He refuses to look at you, biting the inside of his cheek to ignore the scent of your blood. And it's painfully clear he's failing.

You have no idea why he's so insistent on avoiding your blood, but you refuse to spend your own time pondering it.

“Fine then.”

He watches in utter loss as you lick the blood off of your finger, shrugging. “Bleed out for all I care.”

You turn to stand, but his hand latches on your arm once more. You’re not sure if you’re imagining how warm he feels, but you think you must be. He's always been terribly cold.

“Do you hate me now?” he asks again, this time staring up at you through his lashes. “Have I finally run through your patience?”

The question remains the same as he asked you a week ago, but it feels different now. This time, you know your answer, and it feels so, so relieving. You just wish you could understand his own feelings, but his expression is so superficial you don’t even attempt it.

“Yes,” you reply blankly. “I hate you.”

He takes a moment to process your words. You have to admit it’s satisfying to say it to his face, even if your hatred for him is new. But perhaps because it’s new is why you feel it so strongly, and you silently thank it for how confident you sound saying the words. Even if they taste bitter. You think he might have some quip to respond with, but he only smiles, and as usual, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You never want to see it again.

Without another word, he pulls you down to him, and you nearly topple over before stabilizing yourself with either of your knees on either side of his legs. He breathes against your neck, and you think he might drink from you until you feel his fingers brush against your nape. Immediately, your body freezes like a deer in headlights, flinching at his touch as your mind involuntarily forces the last memories you have of his hands on your neck.

And ever so perceptive, he notices how you recoil from his touch.

You hate your body for reacting the way it does out of fear. Not the disgust or the anger, but something much more pathetic, and you want to go back on your own actions to stop yourself from appearing so weak to him. You think he might tease you--taunt you, even, but he stops, slowly pulling away and lowering his head from the crook between your shoulder and head.

You’re unable to see his face, but his movements seem more sluggish.

Instead of going for your neck, he lifts your wrist, brushing his lips against it before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh.

Despite the initial sting, it’s a feeling you’ve grown accustomed to over time. With him, it had always felt so intimate. It’s why you can’t help but feel heat bloom across your cheeks before you remind yourself you no longer care for him. Only when you think he’s drinking a bit too long do you try to pull away, but his arm loops around your waist, bringing you even closer as the amount of blood he’s taking increases with how deep his fangs are.

You feel so cold, yet heat burns through your very blood. It makes your head dizzy, and you take it as a sign that he’s had enough.

You only manage to speak a few seconds later, breathless. “Astarion.”

He pulls away, seemingly out of breath himself as he releases his hold on the rest of your body. He runs his tongue over the access, staining the side of his mouth. He uses his finger to make sure the rest is off his face. “I know.”

He rarely feeds so messily, so you discern he wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t been drinking well. Knowing he wasn’t deceiving you brings little relief, but it’s still a welcome feeling. Rubbing at your wrist and the two puncture wounds now residing there, you stand up and slug your sack over your shoulder. He watches you the entire time, and you hate that you can never seem to read his expressions—only one, and that’s whenever he claims to despise your very existence.

His shoulder has already stopped bleeding.

“Why didn’t you drink from those people at Sharess’ Caress?” you finally say.

“Their blood…” he pauses, trailing off, and suddenly he seems to change his mind. “...I've grown tired of it.”

“Blood is just blood, isn’t it?”

He stares at you for a moment, then laughs.

“I wish it was, darling.”

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#baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #bg3 #angst

[keyotos]

i am absolutely in love with ur writing AND with gepard landau,, can i request a first kiss fic for him? i read your kiss the girl fic for dan heng and ITS SO GOOD!! tysm in advance, take care of yourself!

teenage dream

summary ⎯ gepard knows he can't keep these feelings to himself. gepard also knows that he can never tell you about how he feels. so, he goes to the person he tells all his secrets to: serval. serval, who told pela. pela, who is determined to set you two up. and doing so, entails a bookish adventure for you to enjoy.

tana's words ⎯ i too am in love with gepard. i feel u anon. also thank u for the kind words!

tags ⎯ matchmaking (serval and pela). first kiss. pining (this should be expected). bookish!reader. bookstore owner!reader. oblivious idiots.

IT’S EXTREMELY SURPRISING TO HEAR GEPARD frantically knocking on the doors of nevermore workshop, so serval obviously had to open the doors for him.

when he entered, gepard immediately shut the doors as if he was being followed. the expression on his face was dire; he looked as if he was chased by wolves and he was being hunted down.

“gepard?” serval asked, concern dripping in her tone, “what the hell happened?”

“serval,” gepard panted. serval was getting worried; this was all irregular behavior coming from gepard, “i need help.”

gepard never asked for help. he is one of the most self-sufficient and stubborn people serval knows. he would rather stare death in the face instead of asking someone for help.

“what is it?” serval rushed by his side, “whatever you need, i got you.”

“i think i have feelings for,” gepard sighed, palm dragging across his face, “the owner of the bookstore,” he finishes quietly.

serval’s jaw dropped. it wasn’t because of the declaration of gepard’s crush. it was that he made it sound so dramatic. serval thought that he was being tracked down and was about to be sent to the madhouse.

“are you serious!” serval shoved gepard, “i thought you were about to die or something!”

gepard recoiled at serval’s shove; his sister was stronger than most people thought, “it feels like i am! every time i’m around them my heart rate quickens so much that i think i’m about to have a heart attack. i get all nervous on the inside and i can barely think with them beside me.”

aeons, gepard has definitely fallen in love with you.

“wait⎯so, where are you gonna go from here?” serval leaned on the counter, trying to process all the words her brother confessed.

“that’s the thing,” gepard sighed again. he sounded like a lovesick puppy, “i don’t know. that’s why i came here, i thought you’d be able to help.”

“um. you are aware of my past relationship with cocolia, right? i think i’m like the least qualified person you should be asking romance advice from,” serval pointed out.

“i don’t know who else i could tell,” gepard ran a hand through his hair. this was really stressing him out.

“how about you just… tell them?” serval suggested.

“no!!” gepard shook his head distraughtly, “i can’t do that. what if they don’t feel the same?”

“then it’s not meant to be,” serval said, “simple as that.”

“but it’s not,” gepard whined. serval thought he was making this a lot more complicated than it needed to be. when she was his age, she confessed her feelings to cocolia like it was nothing. they were happy until the break up anyway.

but then it donned on serval. gepard had little to no relationship experience. the only “experience” serval remembers him having was when they were children: his friend had a crush on him and tried to confessed, but gepard rejected her.

that’s why gepard was so distressed. he had no idea how to go on with this. these feelings for you? all new. what he missed out as a teenager, he is now getting as an adult.

“tell you what,” serval wrapped her arm around her brother’s shoulder, “i’ll get this sorted out. trust me. yn will never know about this,” she reassured him.

“you just go along with your guardly duties. i’ll help you,” serval grinned. she knew that she had the perfect plan. except, she couldn’t do it alone.

pela already knew about your crush on the silvermane guard captain. every time he greeted the two of you at the book store, pela practically saw the hearts in your eyes. it was sickening and disgusting, but it was cute too.

what pela didn’t know, however, was that gepard has a crush on you as well.

serval came to pela just a few minutes after gepard’s confession. she knew that she probably shouldn’t have told pela right after the conversation happened, but serval didn’t know how else to console gepard.

“so… you’re telling me that they both like each other?!” serval slammed her hands on the counter. “and they’re both too scared to confess!?”

“that’s exactly what i said, yes,” pela monotonously replied.

you knew that there couldn’t be anything between you and gepard. it was highly improbable that you, a bookstore owner, would be able to gain the captain of the silvermane guard’s interest. it seemed like something straight out of a fictional (key word: fictional) romance novel.

so you appreciated his friendship while he was around. sometimes, as a way to become closer to the captain, you’d suggest different books to him every week. despite being on the front lines quite often, he always comes back to see you. well, he comes back for the books anyway.

serval groaned into her hands, “so what do we do? they both like each other but they literally can’t bear to admit it.”

pela smirked. she’s read enough romance novels to figure out what to do next.

“two words, serval,” pela smirked, “grand. gesture.”

gepard took a few deep breaths before approaching your book store. after his chat with serval, he's been distressed the entire day. he had these feelings for you storming all over his body; occasionally, they'd get so strong that it would feel like those feelings would overtake him.

he opened the door, book in hand, and greeted you formally. gepard couldn't help it: he was so nervous, he wasn't able to function straight.

"hello, captain gepard," you turned around. you were on a latter stacking books on top of bookshelves. originally, you thought it would be cool to have towering shelves, however you quickly learned that it was extremely impractical and difficult.

"i told you," gepard stood near the counter, refusing to slouch in your presence, "you can call me gepard."

"and i told you," you grunted, trying to reach a higher spot on a shelf, "to drop the formalities," you grinned to yourself.

gepard noticed your (potentially) perilous situation and quickly got near the end of the latter. in the case that you fall, at least gepard would be there to catch you.

fortunately, you made your way down the tall latter peacefully. as you descended, the sight of gepard holding down the latter for you made you flush. it was the bare minimum, but it still made your heart speed up.

when he reached out his hand to guide you down (it was out of instinct), you gave him a warm smile. it looked easy on the outside, but you were burning up on the inside. similarly, gepard had the same reaction. for you, he'd do anything.

"thank you," you held onto his hand for a little longer. once you realized what you were doing you quickly recoiled your hand away and apologized. gepard wished your hand was still entwined with his; he wanted to hold onto to the feeling of your hand in his. gepard wanted to trace patterns on your hands, wanted to feel every part of them.

as an attempt to dissipate the tension (it was making you nervous), you decided to ask gepard for help. "we had a busy day yesterday. a best seller recently came out; people were storming the shelves. good for my profit but not good for my sanity," you let out an airy laugh, "would you mind helping me clean up?"

realizing what you just did (asking the captain of the silvermane guards for help) you quickly added, "unless you're busy! then i'll be okay. you can leave. i'll be fine," you rambled.

gepard parted his lips, almost as if he was about to say something. how could you ever think he wouldn't make time for you? even so, he'd deploy a few other guards if you needed help. he'd make sure your needs were met as soon as possible.

he reached his arm out; his hands were close to your collarbone. then he reached back, scared of what would happen next. how silly. the captain of the silvermane guards was not scared of no monster, but of rejection of the one he likes.

"i'll stay for anything," gepard blurted. you were taken aback for a second, but then once you realized what he had just said, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and covertly pinched yourself to make sure that whatever was happening was not a dream.

gepard didn't intend to add, "anything," to his sentence. but his mind was thinking it, and then it just accidentally came out. he meant what he said though. if the bluntness of his voice didn't show his sincerity, the blush that was slowly grazing his face probably did.

"thank you, gepard," you bit the inside of your lip to keep yourself from beaming too hard. you had to turn away from the captain once again, for your smile at his words would be too embarrassing to show. how silly of you to act so giddy and childish at one simple word.

gepard thinks he could hear you say his name a million times, and he would never get bored. he wants to hear his name on your lips as if it were a mantra; you've said his name a few times before, and each time he swears he gets more and more addicted to the sound.

"how about i start on the right and you'll start on the left. that way, we'll both finish in the middle!" you clapped your hands together. you gave gepard a reassuring smile.

you two started on opposite sides, but how gepard wished that you two would be closer. however, there are positives to this situation. gepard can brainstorm ideas for the "grand gesture" pela and serval texted him about.

gepard already had ideas in mind. he just needed to figure out the material for them. he obviously will not tear out papers from a book; that will cause more harm than good (for you and gepard; he cares about books).

while gepard was planning, you were blushing. you still couldn't believe he actually stayed with you. surely, there are more important deeds than helping out a leisurely bookstore owner. and this was the most boring task ever: organizing books. yet, gepard was still here. and he was only a few feet away from you.

you turned back to observe gepard; you wanted to see if you had trapped him in a boring task or not. to your surprise, gepard seemed to be enjoying this. he would flip through pages of various books, spend time reading the summaries; gepard would even go as far to reading the first few pages of some books.

gepard liked to read. at first, he started coming to the bookstore to fetch some books for pela. however, after he met you, he began to adopt a newfound interest in books that he never had before. he read some of pela's books, discovered that he did not like them, and went to browse for more. that's when you came up. you thought you had talked his entire ear off that entire morning; you went on and on and on about what kind of books he would like.

you tried to ignore him afterwards; you even offered the books for free because you were so embarrassed. but gepard kept coming back. your recommendations impressed him: gepard had never met anyone who was so meticulous at their craft. and he loved hearing you talk. he loved your rambles, your rants, your reviews. maybe that was the first sign.

gepard caught your gaze as he turned around. he had the same motivation as you: he wanted to see how you were faring in this task. did you miss the proximity you had before? are you flustered as well? do you like him too?

you two were both staring at each other, thoughts racing, until you shouted, "see something you like?" to break the tension.

gepard thought the question was a taunt at first; similar to asking, "like what you see?"

"no!" he abruptly shouted, trying to hide the fact that he was just staring at you. and then he realized the real meaning of your question: he was browsing the books with such intensity. the truth was, he was trying to find your favorite books. you've informed him about them before, always on your bookish rants. he was going to use them for his gesture later on.

thinking that he now looks like an idiot, gepard tries to save himself by shouting back, "i mean⎯ yes! i do. these books are nice," he tried to cover up.

you seemed not to register his mistake, as you tell him, "whatever you want, it's on the house. for your work today. it'll be on the house for life!" you put some books on some shelves and move closer to the middle.

gepard shook his head and chuckled, "you've always given books to me for free." he put some books back and continued around the room.

"are you complaining?" you raised an eyebrow, "what if i just kept a tab on you this entire time? and you never knew?" more books get put away.

"then i'd rightfully pay you back," gepard wholeheartedly responded, "or i'd arrest you," he joked.

you mock-gasped, "for what?" you're getting closer to the middle now.

stealing my heart, the intrusive part of gepard's mind thought. he'd been hanging out with serval too much; he would never say that. gepard internally cringed.

"false advertising," he moved closer to the middle, “i don't know," he smiled to himself. gepard doesn't think he would have the heart to arrest you.

you blushed at hearing the captain lost on amendments. the captain wouldn't know how to arrest you. is this flirting? or are you reading too much into it?

you don't know if the heat on the back of your neck is from gepard's words or the sun shining so brightly on the back of your neck. you stack some more books on shelves; you've now reached the middle. you're having trouble reaching one of the shelves, but you're too lost in your thoughts to even think about that.

in fact, you're too lost in your thoughts that you don't even notice the warmth disappear from the back of your neck. your cheeks are still warm, so you are still blushing. your struggles with the tall bookshelf are lost when you feel a hand over yours.

"i'll take that," gepard quietly mumbles. it's so quiet that you didn't hear it at first.

on instinct, you turn towards him. when you looked at the position the both of you were in, you noticed that you were caged against him. you were caged against the captain of the silvermane guards. against a bookshelf.

gepard towered over you. his body was centimeters closer to fully pressing on you. his breath was fanning on your face. you could see every detail of his face from your view from below. your hands were so close to grazing his chest, so you immediately slapped them to your sides. you gulp, you start to breath quicker, and you feel like you're about to combust.

you swallowed, trying not to move. you were frozen in place as you tried not to disturb gepard. you gaped at him as he was working to organize the books, not noticing the position the two of you were in.

when gepard finished, he gave a sigh of relief. he underestimated your job: if you had to do this every day, you were probably stronger than some of his soldiers. when he opened his eyes, he was greeted by your wide eyes staring right into his.

he was breath-taken by your beauty. the look in your eyes as you look into his was captivating. gepard needed it framed. the way your lips parted made him go feral; his heart stuttered with every second he looked at you.

his arm was pinned above your head. your bodies were so close that you kept focusing on the rise and fall of gepard’s chest. the way his expression scanned yours made you want to quiver against him.

you said the first sentence, “hard work?” your tone was breathless. you were still trying to catch your breath.

“yeah,” he sighed, still not noticing the way your bodies curved into each other, “hard work.”

“did i waste your time?” you whispered. it was quiet, like you were ashamed of your actions. you looked down at his chest rather than his face.

“no,” gepard leaned in, trying to hear your voice one more time. he tilted your head up slightly with his fingers so you could look at him, “you’d never.”

silence crippled the room. it was just you and gepard, the two of you leaning oh-so-close together that your lips were nearly about to touch. a part of you wanted to lean into him; you wanted to pull him closer and closer until you were both out of breath.

but that was delusional. that was something straight out of romance novels, and your life was anything but.

gepard leaned in closer on purpose. he gave into temptation and wanted to feel your lips on his. he wanted to grab you by the waist and pull you so tightly into him. he wanted this: he wanted your kiss, he wanted your insight, he wanted you.

but with gepard, want is not something one could have. especially one like him.

“i’m sorry,” he abruptly let go, “i’m⎯i think, i have something i need to do,” he took a few steps back away from you, leaving about three feet in distance. quite the opposite from how you two were positioned a few seconds ago.

“oh,” you let go immediately. “i’m sorry! i didn’t know,” you quickly ran to the other side of the room. you wanted to hide from embarrassment.

“not your fault!” gepard shouted as he headed for the exit, “goodbye mx yn!”

you didn’t bother to say goodbye as you slammed the door shut after he left. what just happened was mortifying. the position you two were in? the way you two gradually leaned closer to each other? no wonder he ran away, you thought, you must’ve scared him off.

oh, if only you knew how wrong you were.

you didn't see gepard for a week after the incident. he hadn't come into the bookstore at all the entire week. however, that also could've been your fault: you've been in and out of the bookstore for the past week. if you faced gepard after the incident (you've dubbed), you'd probably apologize and beg for forgiveness.

but still, wouldn't he come in and leave a note? wouldn't he at least stop by once? did you scare him off that badly? the more you thought about it, the more you thought about becoming a hermit.

you'd thought you terrified him and ruined your friendship (and any future hope of a relationship) until flowers appeared on the counter of the bookstore. your assistant refused to let you know who they were from.

you bent down and eyed the pot of flowers sitting on the counter. they were your favorite color: pink. you had to admit, they were gorgeous. they looked well grown, as if these were from a master gardener. the flowers bloomed perfectly, each petal reaching out for the sun.

the message of the flowers also intrigued you. begonias are the flowers that symbolizes knowledge and deep thoughts. whoever gifted these to you must have been very observant or they wanted to be your intern.

"did someone come by asking to be my intern?" you stood up and put your hands on your hips. your lip twisted in thought. you were a bit preoccupied at the moment; the bookstore was getting exceptionally busy and (with your whole gepard crisis going on) you didn't think you were fit to be a mentor at the moment.

"no," your assistant shook her head. you leaned back on the counter, wondering why (and who) would gift you flowers on such a strange day. you already knew it wasn't gepard, due to the awkward tension surrounding the both of you right now, so you had a big list to narrow down.

"but," your assistant continued, "someone dropped off this letter with the flowers. they told me to give it to you after you saw the flowers," your assistant handed you the letter.

it was very formal, the letter. it's envelope was very extravagant, fit for someone with high standards. the stamp was still warm, meaning that this letter had been written recently. you tore open the envelope to reveal it's contents.

yn,

please do me the honor of accompanying me to everwinter cafe tonight. i would really appreciate seeing you there.

gl

"g.l." you paused, "as in green lantern?!" you asked your assistant, wide eyes and all. "who is trying to cosplay as a superhero to talk to me? this is insane. did i owe someone a book or something? charged them extra?" you panicked.

your assistant frowned at your idiocy. who else could 'gl' entail to besides gepard landau? "what if it's the captain," your assistant urged on, nudging your shoulder.

"it couldn't be the captain," you jolted. does your assistant know? "we barely even talk," you try to reason.

"he comes in here nearly every day," your assistant counters, "if not every day, be it every other day," they sighed.

"he just comes in to look at books," you placed the flowers in a safe space in the shelves. "we don't converse as often as you think."

"you talk every day," you assistant drags on. "you're telling me that the two of you have no relations whatsoever?"

"we⎯it's complicated," you sighed, "long story short, it could never be the captain," you looked down at the plant. even if it was gepard, what was he doing? sending anonymous flowers? cryptic notes? why couldn't he just talk to you?

"you should go," your assistant encouraged, "you never know. it could be the captain or it could be another potential secret admirer."

"you think?" you raised an eyebrow. your assistant nodded in response.

you looked at the flowers one more time. though you wished it was gepard who sent them, you knew it was probably someone else trying to flatter you into taking them in as an intern. but as you stared at the begonias, no other thoughts beside gepard consumed your mind

it was late when you walked to everwinter cafe. tonight was not a particularly chilly night, but belobog's slight chill was ever present.

you walked around aimlessly, trying to walk slowly so you can prolong the sight of your "intern." you tried to focus on other things as you walked past, such as the plants and heaters surrounding the city. it's wondrous how things such as plants are still able to flourish in times like these.

as you viewed your surroundings, you saw a note placed on a lamppost close to the cafe. it read, "'i know you're working. i wanted to be somewhere...' safe? familiar? comfortable? 'near you.'

you automatically knew which book that quote was from. book lovers by emily henry. it was your favorite romance book; you've raved about it many times with gepard.

as you continued, you saw another note, "'if you saw yourself the way other people see you, you'd never doubt again.' 'how do people see me?' 'like you're the most beautiful, most remarkable, thing they've ever seen."

you must admit, you blushed a little bit while internally reading that. the only reason you blushed was that because you discussed that quote with gepard. you were talking about the 'twisted' series and how it had it's pros and cons with gepard, and this quote was one of the pros.

another read, "'who are they? the best part of my day.'"

another, "books she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives."

and the last, "'favorite word?' 'you.'"

you quickly noticed that these were all quotes from your favorite books. these are books you've only discussed and rambled about with one person: gepard. you'd never thought he would've actually read these books. let alone, you'd never thought gepard would also quote them.

with slightly more hope than before, you ran up to everwinter cafe.

"did you get my message?" gepard stood tall in front of you. you couldn't look into his eyes and it was killing him.

"your letter? yes, i did. and your flowers too. they were beautiful," you rocked back and forth on your heels.

"thank you, i grew them myself," he gave you a soft smile. you wanted to talk about how he managed to even grow such beautiful flowers, but how could you talk to him if you couldn't even look at him in the eyes? "but, did you get my message?"

you looked down at the many notes in your hand. it turns out gepard had left notes after all, "oh yes. i did," you blushed at the obvious context of the quotes. "all my favorite books."

"yeah," gepard spoke breathlessly, as if all of his air had run out after he started speaking to you, "but did you get my message?" he looked at your face for any type of indication: whether you liked him back, hated him, or had no strong feelings towards him. his eyes darted throughout your face, and the sight made you slightly flustered. he was leaning over you, and you thought you saw his eyes graze over your lips.

then it donned on you. the flowers. the letter. the sneaking out at night. the romantic context of all the quotes. the way all the quotes were from your favorite books that you've only talked about with him. the way gepard has admired and remembered every single thing about you. your stomach dropped as you realized gepard had been feeling the same things you have felt for him this entire time. your heart pounded in your chest as you finally met his eyes in the pale moonlight.

"yes," you swiftly exhaled. it was like all your hidden feelings for gepard were compacted in your chest, and when you finally breathed, they were all let out. it was like all your troubles were leaving you, "i did."

"and..." gepard trailed off, now failing to meet you in the eyes. he was terrified of your rejection; your opinion was one of the things that mattered most to him. before, he regarded it was his passion for the people, but now he recognizes that he was just passionate for you. "did you like it?"

"i loved it," you smiled; it wasn't just a soft smile this time, like the ones you've always given him. it was a big smile: loud and talkative, much like you. one smile could convey so much.

but you still had thoughts, "i didn't need all of this though," you grabbed his hand for reassurance. you were in range of his lips. you could close the gap right now.

gepard froze; your words and your touch made him tense. he was finally able to look you in the eye, having prepared himself for iminent rejection and was ready to leave. whatever you needed, he would do.

"what do you need?" gepard asked frantically. "whatever you need, i will give it to you. whether it be space or never seeing me again."

what you needed? you needed his thoughts, his opinions, his reassurance. you needed his touch on a cold night, you needed his arm around you when you were cold, you needed to feel him beside you on nights similar to this. you needed everything that he was.

"i need you," you whispered up on his lips. "right now."

and gepard swore the entirety of everwinter city heard his heart drop to the ground. he was sure that you could feel his heart pounding in his chest after you said those five words. only five words, yet gepard felt like he was going insane. he was going insane for you: your touch, your mind, your words, your entirety.

gepard removed his hand from yours for just one second, using it to tip your chin up so you could be in his view. in the pale moonlight, you were gorgeous. to be fair, you were always gorgeous, but something about tonight extenuated your beauty.

"can i⎯"

"don't even ask," you cut him off, leaning into him.

the kiss was soft and sweet at first. the feeling of your lips pressed onto his was heavenly: gepard felt ten times stronger with you than with anything else. it was gentle and tender.

but when you tugged your arms around his neck, all restraint went out the window.

gepard moved his hand from your chin to your waist, pulling you closer into him. it was bold for his first kiss, but who could blame him when you're holding onto to him so tightly?

you threaded your hands through his hair as he kissed you feverishly. his hands on your waist made you want to combust into him. you were standing on your toes at this point; if you tried to stand any taller, gepard was about to lift you up into the air.

when you finally stopped to breath, all that was left in the air was your love and the light from the sky.

"was i your first kiss?" you asked him coyly, arms still wrapped around his neck.

gepard blushed and you immediately knew his answer to your question. you stood up one more time to give him one more quick kiss.

yes, you were his first kiss. and gepard wished for more to come.

i need a week off after this fic i swear to god

#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗) #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr #hsr x reader #gepard x reader #gepard landau #gepard hsr #gepard x you #gepard landau x you #tana answers: request ver #FINALS WEEK IS OVER I FINALLY GOT THIS DONE WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO #gepard

[fufuheheii]

Cyno’s Ultimate Guide to Wooing You (tips from Tighnari)

Edit: Cyno x female!reader

You and Cyno have been friends for a very long time.

That’s why the boy never expected that he would develop feelings out of nowhere, especially not right when you smash an  Ajilenakh nut with his pole arm in anger.

He could have sworn his heart went doki doki along with the broken nut.

“You have got to be kidding me,” was all Tighnari could say when Cyno approached him on the very same day with the biggest blush ever.

“She was glowing Tighnari,” Cyno furrowed his eyebrows as he looked off into the distance. “The Love Archon have placed a curse on me-“ “there is no love archon you lummox.”

After a long ass debate and Cyno listing down pros and cons of liking you, the fennec boy decided this topic went on long enough and decided to just throw some suggestions.

“Why not just ask her out on a date? Woo her with something. If I recall, Y/N said she liked charcoal cake.”

And that’s how The Guide to Wooing You (Ft. Tighnari) book was created.

First Operation: date

Now, you and Cyno have been friends for a very long time, meaning you’ve done much activities together.

When Cyno asked you out, you took it as an average hangout and the day turned into a whole TCG war. 

Cyno has no idea how you guys ended up in Port Ormos, both of your decks out with his strongest cards in his hand. People surround you two, all in awe at the amazing strategic display in front of them. No, to say he is confused is an understatement.

“Wait Y/N-“ “No I’m not falling for that again Cyno.” “No, we weren't supposed to be playing.” “Wow I can’t believe you just threw that card out, how am I supposed to win that?” “Wait that was unintentional-“

He never got to confess. But at least he won the game.

Second Operation: food

On the day he was free he barged into the Sumeru tavern, causing a few scholar to run out screaming as he approached the counter with menacing aura. 

“One charcoal cake. Do you have a pink ribbon? Wrap it with a pink ribbon. Maybe add a heart on the cake if possible. Write the name ‘Y/N’ on it. I expect no word comes out about me here.”

When you see it, you roar with laughter. “Bruh, this is the funniest thing you pulled so far!”

Tighnari gets no sleep that night as Cyno comes into his room and murmurs by himself in the corner, confused as to what exactly is he doing wrong.

Third Operation: physical contact

Cyno wipes his hand on his shorts for the 15th time as he awaits for you at Gandarvha Ville. Today was the day of his next operation: hand holding.

Cyno wasn’t the type to force any physical contact, unless it’s to punish all evil wrongdoing. But today he was going to go the opposite way. 

He will brush his hand against yours, and if you don’t move away he will then proceed to look into your eyes as a sign of love affirmation. You will be struck by his determination and then he will move to intertwine his fingers with yours. And then he will confess. 

“Hey Cyno! You’re here early,” you appear in your goddess glory, your smile so dazzling the Mahamatra has to block it out with his hand. 

“What a sight to behold.” “Did you say something?”

When you two walked together, people were clearing the path. You figured it was because of Cyno’s title, but in reality it was because of his red shot eyes that was glaring at your hand. 

Above you both is Tighnari using his binoculars to watch you both. He mutters curses specially at the Matra, and Cyno could’ve sworn he felt chills go down his spine for no reason. 

Do it now you imbecile! Touch her hand! What in the archons are you doing? 

Cyno’s heart was thumping so fast he thought you could hear it. He swallowed as he stared at your hand, the delicate fingers that was tempting him to lic-hold it. 

“Cyno?” He snapped his attention to your worried face. He inhaled when you step so close to him that your faces were mere inches away. 

Tighnari gasped. Are you guys kissing? Why the hell are you guys kissing first?

“Are you okay? You look really stressed,” Your eyebrows furrow together, your cheeks pouting out so slightly. 

Your magnificent breath tickled his face, your doe eyes peering into his wide dilated ones. He could smell the faint chicken wings you ate earlier on your body. He could see your collar bones just saying hello to him. Your hair tickle his face as well as his bangs to yours. He looks back up to your eyes and he finally utters his response.

“Stressed? More like I’m a damsel in distress.”

Tighnari to this day doesn’t know how that was a joke to Cyno.

Operation four: Just confess

“Now we all know you have this natural instinct of throwing in a stupid joke out of nowhere,” Tighnari covers Cyno’s mouth before he could retort. “Now imagine I am Y/N. Show me how you’re going to confess to me.”

“No what the f-” “Do you really want to ruin the biggest operation with another joke?” “…”

Cyno sighs and the two boys sit facing each other. Tighnari crosses his arms and mimics your voice in a ridiculously high tone, “Hey Cyno! What’s up?” 

“Hey Y/N, um…there’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you,” Cyno inhales, trying to pretend the boy in front of him was his favorite girl. He smiles when his decent looking friend’s face morphs into your beautiful features. “We’ve been friends for so long and I know it’s definitely hard to believe but…I really like you. To me, you’re the most beautiful star in the desert night, the star that guides me to my destination. Will you be mine?”

“Wow Cyno I’m so happy!” Tighnari sings happily with a horrifying giggle. “See, that wasn’t so bad-”

 A big thud silences them all.

The two boys slowly look to the side in horror as both you and Collei stand at the doorway stunned. Collie’s basket is on the floor, and an apple rolls to Cynos’ foot. 

“I always knew master and Cyno had something!” Collei runs out the door, covering her face in glee as her OTP has finally come true.

Cyno’s face pales as you blink at him and then at Tighnari and then back to him. Then you turn away quickly before they can hear you snort with laughter. 

General Mahamatra and General Watchleader weren’t seen for a few days, but there were rumors circulating that the WatchLeader was trying to kill the Mahamatra. 

Final operation: Cyno

“Just be yourself Cyno,” Tigh’s words repeat in the boy’s mind. “What do you think will get your feelings across as Cyno? Think about it, and then face Y/N when you’re ready.”

Truth to be told, Cyno has never been open about his own feelings to anyone before. Sure, he told his best (and only) friend that he likes you, sure he beat up sinners to express his irritation of them forcing him out into the desert for three days just to bring them back, but it’s different with you. 

He enjoyed all the times he’s had with you, all the moments where you and him argued about who won, the moments where you fed him food when he was loaded with work, the moments when you smiled at him when he would come to see you...he treasured every single second.

He was scared that if you did not return his feelings, your friendship would be broken. You meant that much to him.

But he knew if this one-sided feeling went on much longer he will go crazy and full of hope. He can decide how to proceed with his feelings once he gets an answer from you.

You finally appear. You look around the rather grassy area, before looking up at the night sky full of stars.

Cyno watches with adoration as your eyes light up at the sky. It must be the same look he has when he’s with you. 

He silently approaches you with a familiar book in his hand, and you finally see him.

He hands you the book and you blink at it curiously before you open the book and read the contents.

He slowly smiles as a blush spread across your cheeks as you read over each operation listed down and the attempts the poor boy made to gain your affection.

“How did I miss all this?” You whisper, bringing the back of your hand to your face as your ears burn. “Cyno I...”

He places a hand on your arm and comes forward. His eyes are so full of desperation you can already hear what’s he going to say. 

“I’m not supposed to be…having these feelings as a Matra. It’ll only get in the way, but...I do have feelings for you Y/N. I enjoy my time with you, I enjoy eating with you. I enjoy fighting with you. I like you. I am in love with you. Will you be the padisarah to my Duel Soul recipe?”

A few days later rumors go around that the General Mahamatra has been stalking a certain girl and the girl is a criminal waiting to be caught in the act. 

It’s only a few days later (again) that there is confirmation that the girl is actually the General Mahamatra’s beloved girlfriend.

Omg this was so bad but so funny at the same time aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Sorry if this seemed so rushed, but it came to me in the middle of the night, and I had to write it all down! Hope you guys enjoyed it! :,)

Edit: whoa thanks for the love guys! Can’t believe this got so much attention, I’m happy I managed to give some laughs!

#genshin #cyno #cyno x reader #cyno x y/n #tighnari #Tighnari is so tired of Cyno #Collei doesn't know her ship has sunk #cyno fluff #genshin impact #Collei

[tomriddleslove]

What’s left of me?

✩Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: The one where your pursuit for excellence leads you down a path of self destruction, and you’re slowly loosing yourself. You didn’t expect a certain boy in your year would be your saving grace. Alternatively: Mattheo makes you realise you’re more than what you think you are.

A/N: I guess this could very easily be like a prequel to the other mattheo one shot ‘i’m here’. This is definitely a bit self indulgent but we all have our things 😻😻

Warnings: Allusions to overdosing (brief), mentions of not eating.

Songs: Nothings New - Rio Romeo

18 days.

18 days till you would be finished with all of this.

Technically, it would actually be 408 days till you finished school and graduated from this godforsaken place, but 18 more till you finished with exams.

You weren’t sure how many more hours you could spend hunched over indecipherable handwriting, pouring over text till your eyes stung and your back ached. Surrounded by a stack of books and rolls of parchment, you couldn’t even begin to figure out where you ended and the library began. You had taken up a huge table (that could seat at least 4) for the better part of 17 hours, sat on the same chair since 6:00 am.

You stifle a small groan of pain as you roll your wrist, stiff and sore from the hell that was ancient runes.

There are ink splotches all over your skin, and you’re sure the amount of work you were pouring into this stopped being effective nearly 5 hours ago.

Your eyes flicker up and scan over the once-packed library that had slowly dwindled down to a few students, half of whom were in the same boat as you.

To you, being the last person in the library was a huge sign of success. It meant you were more dedicated and more hard-working.

In reality, the truth couldn’t be any further from that, but in your mind, if you weren’t milking yourself over every last piece of work it simply wasn’t being done right.

The hushed murmurs and sounds of parchment being unfurled fade into the background as your quill scratches furiously against the parchment, mind running at a million miles an hour.

You ignore the pang in your stomach as you work; you haven’t eaten today. You didn’t want to get up at any point to get food, for fear of your place being taken.

Now, you didn’t want to get up for another reason. It was well past the library's open hours and Madame Pince was angrily fussing about, bustling around everyone as she got them to leave. A testament to how long you had been there, she didn’t even seem to notice you, and you were worried getting up and walking about would break this sort of invisibility shield you had going on.

Come to think of it, you hadn’t really drunk any water either. You brought your bottle with you but had forgotten to fill it up. It was fine though, the human body could last for 3 days without water - it could wait. Your upcoming exams were far more important.

In Scandinavia, the Elder Futhark remained in use until some time around the eighth century (the time of the Eddas), when drastic changes in the Old Norse language occurred, and corresponding changes in the runic alphabet were made to accommodate the new sounds. However, unlike the Anglo-Saxon Futhorc, the Younger Futhark (as it is now called) reduced the number of runes from 24 to 16, and several runes came to represent multiple sounds. The forms of the runes were also changed and simplified.

Gods, you couldn't take this anymore. You felt sick and exhausted. You ignore the hunger that gnaws at your stomach, rubbing a hand over your face as you contemplate finishing off and going to bed.

But every time you think of stopping a horrible feeling emerges in your stomach, consuming you with anxiety. The weight of impending exams and the fear of not doing well gnawing at your determination. You glance at the clock, realizing it's well past midnight, and the library is now completely empty except for you.

Madame Pince, finally noticing your presence, approaches with a disapproving look. "You know, the library does close at a certain hour. I can't have students staying here all night," she scolds, but her tone softens as she sees the exhaustion in your eyes.

“Sorry. I lost track of time” You mumble, haphazardly cramming your stuff into your bag. You get up, and the room spins for a second. You stumble but manage to catch yourself, holding onto the table as Madam Pince reaches out a hand to help you recover.

“You need to take care of yourself. No exam is worth this much stress,” She says, eyeing you with concern. If only she knew how far that was from the truth. You felt as though you had so little to your name. Performing well, overachieing. That was what you were known for. It was the only thing you felt was yours. Everyone else had character, they were distinctly themselves. They had hobbies, interests, and friendships that defined them. But for you, it was always about excelling academically. Without that, you became nobody. You were no more than the number on your papers, and the reminder weighed down on you like an unrelenting burden.

By some miracle you manage to stumble down the empty halls of the castle into the Slytherin common room, which seemed paradoxically warm considering its grandiose stone structure and dark, moody lighting. You carelessly drop your bag onto a table closest to the fireplace, trudging up to your room as you battle the sleep that threatens to consume you.

It's dark, and your roommates have long gone to bed.

“Lumos” You murmur, hiding the blinding light that emerges from the tip of your wand with the lining of your school robes, dimming it slightly. You grope blindly at your bedside drawer, stopping when you feel the familiar smooth glass bottle, that fits perfectly in your palm. You slip it into the pocket of your robes, slowly shutting the drawer as you make your way back down to the common room. You dismiss the light that shines from your wand, tossing it onto the sofa as you take a seat on the floor, in front of the low table. You read the instructions on the back of the small bottle as if you hadn’t been consuming this religiously for the past month.

Wideye potion User Guidance:

Take no more than one teaspoon every 6 hours. Effects will last for up to 8 hours. Excessive use of this potion may lead to adverse effects, and in rare cases, severe bodily harm. Users are advised not to use the maximum dosage for a consecutive 72 hours.

You’ve read it so many times, you were sure you could recite it by heart. Choosing not to heed any warnings, you pop open the cork and down the whole bottle in one go. The rancid taste of the potion burns, eliciting a shudder down your spine as you swallow down the bile that threatens to emerge. Pocketing the empty glass bottle, you stretch your arms before retrieving your books, ready to continue working.

If you were lucky, the potion might give you a boost of energy for about 3 hours or so. You had been taking it so much you had developed a sort of immunity to it, and the effects were not as potent as they used to be. The sacrifice of your well-being for the sake of productivity had become a routine, a desperate attempt to squeeze every ounce of time and focus out of your exhausted mind and body.

You have attempted to brew a stronger concoction, in the misplaced hopes that increasing the potency would counteract the effect of the immunity. However, the violent cramps and palpitations it had given you very quickly told you that wouldn't work.

You knew it was bad. It was causing irreversible damage to your body, killing you at worst. It simply wasn't sustainable. But you couldn't drag yourself out of that mindset.

Failure. Nobody.

You gritted your teeth and carried on working.

You managed to get through another potions essay, and the time on your watch read 1:00 am.

You could carry on for longer, right?

You zone out for a second, staring off at the orange embers that emerged from the fireplace, shining bright for what seemed like a millisecond before falling to the floor, turning into nothing but ash.

The orange embers flicker, and for a moment, you see yourself in them – a fleeting brightness that threatens to be extinguished. The battle between ambition and self-preservation rages on as you grit your teeth and carry on working, oblivious to the embers slowly falling into nothingness, much like your own fading sense of self.

“Why on earth are you up at this hour doing work?” A voice calls from behind you, and the momentary intrusion shocks you, sending a burst of energy through you as you spin around.

Flopping down onto the sofa next to you, leaning back with his legs lazily outstretched, was none other than Mattheo Riddle. Clad in a plain grey sweatshirt and black jeans, he eyes you with curiosity, smelling distinctively of smoke. He had most likely been out, as he so usually was at this hour. You shrug, turning back to your work.

“Exams. Need to revise” You mumble, voice cracking. You swallow, massaging your dry throat as you grimace, trying to get back to your writing.

“Revise? Merlin, you're the smartest person in our year. You don't need to be revising” Matthep leans forward, plucking a piece of parchment from your pile and examining it with a raised eyebrow.

You snatch it back, a protective instinct kicking in despite the fatigue. You hated that sentiment. Despised it, even. People always assumed your performance came naturally. That you were simply born with the ability to do well. No one seemed to consider what you had to do to get to that point, how you wore yourself down, day in and day out, till you either passed out from exhaustion or pain, neglecting your most basic needs.

"I might be the 'smartest' person, but that doesn't mean I can afford to slack off," you reply, a hint of frustration in your voice. The adrenaline from the sudden interruption starts to ebb away, leaving you feeling even more drained.

Mattheo leans back, momentarily caught off guard by your defensiveness. He had never seen you this on edge. He was so accustomed to seeing you as this familiar presence during the school day his partner for the many lessons that he didn’t have his friends in. The two of you would work together and on rare occasions, hang out with one another in the common room as well. It was a rather unlikely duo, the king of Slytherin and the academic prodigy. Yet, More often than not Mattheo found himself seeking out your presence. He never admitted it outright, but he hugely admired you. Your intelligence, your drive, it all captivated him. There were times when he hoped he could be only half the person you were.

How funny it was, for you felt the very same thing when you saw him. He seemed content. Happy. He was loved by nearly everyone. Popular, with a fun social life. He had everything you wanted without putting in any of the work.

You wanted to be like him. But you weren’t. And if you wanted anything like what he had, you had to work damn hard for it. So that's what you did. With a small sigh, you turn back to your work.

“Hey,” He says gently, his voice softening slightly. "I’m sorry. I say stupid things sometimes.” He apologies, brows furrowed as he looks at your back facing him.

“It's fine. I should be saying sorry. You didn't say anything, I just…. I’m just a bit tired, that's all.” You mumble, apologising as you get up. You stretch, a yawn escaping your lips as you wearily rub your eyes.

“I'm gonna run up to my room and grab some more parchment. I’ll be down in a second,” You say, shrugging off your school robe as you turn to walk away. You ascend the stairs leading to your dorm, tossing your robe onto the sofa next to Mattheo as you do so.

Your robe slides off the sofa and hits the floor, a faint clinking sound echoing through the empty room as you disappear.

Curious, Mattheo looks down at your carelessly discarded robe. He reaches down, picking it up. It weighs heavier than it should be, and Mattheo can't help but feel a twinge of curiosity, He eyes the now empty staircase before reaching into your pocket, fingers brushing against a smooth glass vial.

Not just one, but a few.

Frowning, he turns out your pocket, and four identical glass vials tumble into his lap. Picking one up, his frown only deepens as he reads the label.

“Wideye potion?” He mutters to himself, the confusion on his face morphing into something else as the pieces fit in place.

He had admired you for your intelligence and drive, and now he was confronted with the reality of your struggles. The contrast between your achievements and the seemingly carefree moments he sought with you becomes stark. He berates himself for not having noticed early, for having let you fall down such a destructive path.

Jaw clenched, he gazes at the piles of books you had been working through, rolling the empty vials between his fingers as the sound of your approaching footsteps snaps him out of his thoughts.

You pause in confusion, noticing the scrutinising depression plastered on his face as he looks up at you, rolls of parchment bundled in your hands.

"What's the Wideye potion for?" Mattheo questions, his voice cutting through the silence with an uncomfortable heaviness. He holds up the empty vials as evidence, his gaze piercing through the exhaustion in your eyes.

Caught off guard by the confrontation, you glance down at the vials and then meet Mattheo's eyes. A brief moment of silence hangs in the air, the crackling embers of the fireplace filling the empty silence.

“Research. For uh, potions.” You respond, internally berating yourself for coming up with such a weak excuse.

Mattheo's expression remains stern, a mix of frustration and genuine concern etched on his face.

"Don't bullshit me," he says, his tone direct and uncompromising. "I found these in your pocket, and 'potions research' is a shit excuse. I’m going to ask you again. What’s the wideye potion for?"

You shift uncomfortably, feeling small under his scrutinising gaze You clear your throat, speaking.

"It's just to stay awake, you know? To keep going. I only take it in extreme circumstances" you explain, your voice betraying the exhaustion that has settled in.

Mattheos jaw clenches, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he looks to the side with a sigh, visibly frustrated.

“Extreme? And what would that be, hmm? Because right now I'm looking at four empty bottles, and God knows how many more you’ve thrown away.” He snaps, his expression softening as he looks at you.

You feel a lump forming in your throat as you struggle to find the right words. Why on earth were you close to tears? Why did you feel like crying?

“I-” You start, trailing off as you stare at the floor.

Mattheo cuts through the silence, his tone still stern but laced with concern. "This isn't okay. You're smart, and you know better. You can't keep doing this to yourself. What if something happens? What if you collapse or get seriously sick? It's not worth it."

After a moment, Mattheo's expression softens, and he exhales deeply. "When was the last time you ate?" he asks, the concern evident in his voice.

Shit.

You pause, hesitating before admitting quietly, "Breakfast...yesterday."

Mattheo's features tighten at your admission, his eyes reflecting a mixture of frustration, anger, and genuine worry. He rises from his seat and strides towards you, his footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent room.

"Yesterday? Are you serious?" he says sharply, his voice carrying a weight of both concern and disbelief.

You remain silent, unable to meet his eyes, feeling the shame and vulnerability washing over you.

“Seriously? Fuck, what’s wrong with you? Why would you do that to yourself?” He chastises you, and you snap.

“I have to! You don't fucking get it, do you? I don't have anything else to fall back on.” You start, dropping the parchment onto the table in front of you.

Mattheo's expression shifts from concern to confusion as you lash out. "What are you talking about? You have plenty more than just academics. You're talented, you're smart, and people care about you. Why are you reducing yourself to just grades?"

You scoff, a bitter smile playing on your lips. "Talented? Smart? What does that even mean? It's just a facade, a cover-up for the fact that without these achievements, I'm nothing. I don't have friends; I don't have hobbies or interests. What am I without my grades?"

Mattheo tries to interject, "You're a person with-"

But you cut him off, "No, you don't get it! I'm just a number, a ranking, a test score. Everything I am is tied to how well I perform academically. Do you know what it's like to feel like the only thing you're good at is studying, and even that's slipping away?" You snap anger evident in your tone as you spin around to face him, your weary eyes meeting his.

“It’s the same thing every single day. I wake up, bury myself in books, and push myself to the brink just to feel like I matter. I don't eat, I don't sleep, I don't talk to anyone. I’ve spent my whole life isolating myself and neglecting my most basic needs for this! If I stop now, then what's left of me?”

Tears start to well up in your eyes, and you hate yourself for showing such vulnerability. Mattheo's stern demeanour softens as he watches you unravel.

"I can't stop, Mattheo. I can't afford to. Because if I do, what's left of me?" Your voice trembles.

Mattheo's heart drops at your words, guilt and hurt clawing at his insides. He can’t fathom the idea of you suffering so much, and him being blind to it. How could you not notice how incredible of a person you are beyond all of this? He’d give anything in the world for you to see yourself through his eyes. For you to feel the way he feels when he's with you, even for a second. To know that he’d do anything you asked him to because he cared for you. Not the one who gets outstanding on all their tests.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mattheo finally speaks, his voice softer, genuine concern written across his face.

You shake your head, a mix of frustration and desperation in your eyes. “Because you wouldn’t understand. No one does. They just see the grades, the perfect student. They don’t see the mess behind it all. And I can’t let them. I can’t let anyone see me like this.”

Mattheo moves closer, his expression shifting. “You’re wrong. I do understand. Maybe not completely, but I want to. You don’t have to face this alone.”

You scoff, wiping away a tear. “Why? What do you care? You have everything, popularity, friends, a life. I’m just the study partner, the smart one. I can’t burden you with this.”

Mattheo remains silent for a second, before he speaks.

“Every other Sunday, you go down to Hogsmesde and buy a hamper of sweets form Honeydukes. You take it to the children’s school and volunteer there for an hour. Everytime you visit, you make their day.” He starts.

"You're not just grades," he says, his voice gentle. "You have quirks that make you who you are. Like the way you absentmindedly tap your foot when you're deep in thought. Or how you always carry a small notebook, and I bet it's filled with more than just class notes. I've seen you doodle in the margins."

He continues, "You have a wicked sense of humor, even if you don't show it to everyone. I've heard you snort-laugh during our study sessions. And don't even get me started on your taste in music.How you call that dastardly jazz music, i’ll never understand, but you can’t resist humming along to the tunes of the Wizarding Wireless Network when you're studying. Your fondness for Chocolate Frogs and your inexplicable aversion to pumpkin juice.”

Mattheo's eyes light up, a small smile tugging at his lips as he recalls more details. "Remember that time in Charms class when you made your quill dance across the room just to see if you could do it? Or when you brewed a prank potion that turned the water in the Prefects' bathroom blue for a week? You have a mischievous side that not many people get to see." He continues, looking down at you sincerely. He remains silent for a second, eyes scanning over your face before he steps back, sighing.

“I don’t know how to do this emotional, sappy bullshit. I don’t do it. But with you, I do. I want to. Other people want to. That’s what you do.” He says, voice quiet.

You remain rooted to your spot, somewhere between disbelief and gratitude as you stare up at Mattheo. How did he know all that? Why did he know all that?

“You noticed?” You speak up, voice alarmingly quiet.

He looks at you as though you’ve just asked him whether the sky is blue.

“Of course i’ve noticed. It’s impossible not to.” He murmurs, and you know he’s being honest.

Tears prick in your eyes again, and it’s as though all that exhaustion and neglect has come crashing back down on you tenfold after Mattheo had called you out. You try blink them away but alas, you simply couldn’t. Before you can even say anything, Mattheo steps forward, pulling you into his chest as he wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. He holds you tightly, not even entertaining the thought of letting go as your tears soak his sweatshirt, tentatively accepting his embrace. His heart clenches at every tear that falls from your eyes, and he can’t tell if he’s horrified or accepting of the fact that he’d give up everything to relieve you of your burdens, even if only for a day.

He rubs your back soothingly, and you can’t help but let it all out.

It’s rather cathartic, really, because you've held onto this weight for so long, and now, in Mattheo's arms, it feels like a moment of release.

As your tears eventually subside, you pull back, both embarrassed and utterly shattered. You look down, sniffling as you wipe away your tear stained eyes when Mattheo hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

People often said that the eyes were a window to the soul. You never really understood that, but in this moment, you felt as though you were gazing into the very depths of Mattheos being.

With a tenderness that betrays the boundaries of ‘just friends’ , he wipes away your tears with his thumb, looking down at you.

“Come on. Let’s get you up to rest, yeah?” He hums, quietly. You nod, having to tear yourself away from his touch.

He leans down to pack away your stuff, not letting you handle a thing as he throws your stuff over his shoulder.

“You can stay in my room, if you’d like. Theodore’s out for the night so I can take his bed.” Mattheo says.

You consider it for a second. You didn’t particularly fancy heading up to your room with Mattheo, for fear of your roommate awakening to see you in such a state. You nod, speaking.

“Yes please.” You say, voice embarrassingly hoarse from having cried so much. You pray Mattheo didn’t notice.

Of course he did. But, he chose not to draw attention to it, instead resolving to run down to the kitchen to get you a cup of tea.

You follow Mattheo into his room, which you were no stranger to. Having projects together meant endless hours of collaborating, and opting to avoid being pestered by your roommate and her friends (who had a rather amusing infatuation with Mattheo), you worked in his room instead.

“Help yourself to some clothes if you’d like. They’re on the right.” He says, carefully draping your school bag and robe onto one of the desks. You thank him, smiling softly as he cleans the mess he had left.

“Go lie down. I’ll be back in a second” He says, turning away as he exits his room. Swiftly walking down to the kitchen, his head is reeling with thoughts of you.

He chose not to confront the feeling gnawing at him in light of your breakdown. He didn’t want to deal with that just yet. In no less than 10 minutes he’s carefully treading up the stairs to the dorms once more, a cup of chamomile tea in one hand and some small crackers in the other.

You hadn’t been eating, nor drinking, and the idea of you neglecting yourself so much sent Mattheo into an uncomfortable state where he found himself riddled with anxiety.

Just friends, right?

He clicks open the door to his room with his elbow, precariously walking over with the tea and crackers in hand as he goes to set them down on his bedside table. His eyes flicker over to you, and a small smile tugs at his lips as he sees you already fast asleep, curled up under the covers. The sight of your slumber brings a warmth to Mattheo's heart. He watches you for a moment, taking in the soft rise and fall of your breath, the delicate features that are usually tense with stress now softened in sleep.

The sight brings him more peace than he wishes to admit, and the looming reality that he had to eventually confront only pressed down on him further.

But for now, he didn’t care.

Because in your peace, he found happiness. And he’s sure he’d never find anything else more beautiful.

Possessed by a wave of sentiment that betrays his usual self, he can’t resist reaching out to tuck a stand of misplaced hair behind your ear. Before he can even comprehend what he’s doing, he leans down and presses a soft , brief kiss to your forehead.

He pulls back and finds himself slightly taken aback by his own actions. The quiet room, filled only with the soft sounds of your sleep, almost seems to amplify the beating of his heart.

Mattheo stands there for a moment, looking at you with a mix of tenderness and confusion. Then, shaking off the unexpected surge of emotions, he retreats to Theodores bed , slipping out of his clothes as he goes to lay down. He had to resist the urge to turn around and catch a glimpse of you once again, and lets out a small sigh as he shuts his eyes.

Mattheo Riddle was not a man of sentiment. He was not soft, and he most certainly did not go out of his way for others.

You had changed that. And he couldn’t figure out whether the prospect was one he was ready to welcome.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #harry potter #tom riddle #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader comfort

[esotericc-angel]

Hiii, hru? New follower here! I am so lost. I learned about manifestation n loa n everything last year of December. Right now I want a full appearance change. Not minor, I want like different hair texture, brown skin to a light skin, n all that, like I’ll look like a totally different person. I want know everything on how to do it and to reflect it on the 3D n for it to never change. I am tired, I am determined, please anything can help. Have a good day/night xx

i changed my full appearance to the point that i had to reintroduce myself because people didn't recognize me. all i did was constantly affirm and ignore the 3D. thats literally it. i feel like some of you look for something more "magical" or "powerful" but your affirmations (everyday thoughts and sentences) are literally the most powerful and magical thing. the only issue is that you have to stay focused and stop thinking unfavorable thoughts. the world that you see around you right now has been created by you on either some subconscious or conscious level. just affirm and persist. have no thoughts that oppose the fact that you already have what you want, simply just stay in the state of the wish fulfilled. you already manifested your whole 3D reality, so its not going to be hard or a long process to manifest something as small as an appearance change. people have revised deaths, manifested boyfriends, millions of dollars, and you think that manifesting looking different will be hard? manifesting is not hard at all. no matter what it is, it's all the same process.

#law of assumption #manifestation #manifesting #subliminals #neville goddard #how to manifest #instant manifestation #pink #void state #manifesting success #loa tumblr #loassumption #loa #loa blog #loablr #loass #law of assumption blog #self concept #pink blog #pink aesthetic #soft pink #pink moodboard #pinkcore #pastel #heart shaped #glitter #hearts #affirmations #affirm and persist #affirmdaily

[infamous-if]

Dec ✮ 12 ✮ 2024 – update

Part of me hates doing these mostly because it's a whole lotta nothing and me just repeating everything I said the last update (lol) but I do like doing it because I like keeping people updated, even if it's a non-update. I may sound like a broken record (pun not intended) but I know a lot of people don't catch my updates every time so it's nice to just keep people informed yk yk

✮ — Part 2 + rewrite

Fun fact: I had written an entire essay about my excitement for the rewrite and chapter 3 and beyond but it got too long!

It boiled down to me wondering why I'm so excited for this rewrite and realizing it's because I feel comfortable enough to approach it with complete creative freedom. I wrote the first iteration of the demo with the constant worries swimming in my head like "I hope people understand what I'm trying to say here" and "I hope this situation is being read the way I intended for it to be read." And I think I sort of had those thoughts tenfold while writing Part 2. If you paid attention, you can probably see where I was trying to shut down certain discussions in the narrative lmao

Recently I had a tiny epiphany and reminded myself that it's not always about what I intend to write, but what is being understood by each reader. And yes this is basic writing 101 but let me have this moment of clarity okay. Embracing that means I can proceed with Infamous without holding back and sticking to my guns in regards to what I want for this story aka I'm just going to write what I write and like....not worry about the rest you feel (while of course integrating the common critiques and suggestions and improving on the things Infamous falls short in—I am not Shakespeare lmao)

ANYWAY my point is that I'm excited to fix up the demo !!! and just go back to it with complete confidence in myself and write whatever the heck feels right to me (and write the rest of the story lolol) and return with a better story than I have now for everyone!!

✮ — December will be for

planning what I'm going to improve and squeezing that in a reworked outline so it can flow much better narratively.

Outlining Chapter 3 and hopefully have the bare bones first draft drafted up which is mostly just be writing blocks of descriptions

I'm not sure I'll have anything substantial to justify looking for beta testers so soon yet but maybe!

work on my spice writing babey writing/reading spice makes me actually physically recoil but im determined to get better! which reminds me to finish the 6k follower gifts!

And also take a small breather because I am moving!

✮ — Patreon

I've already mentioned this on Patreon and a few times on here, but I do want to reiterate that Patreon content is coming out in bulk this month, in case anyone was wondering why I'm not posting as frequently. The content is still the same in terms of the quantity, it just won't be released every few days! thank you guys for being understanding of that <3

✮ —

My activity has is decreasing little by little due to my move but I do read every question and try to at least answer one question a day. I get quite a few mentions lately so I have to sort through those since I do get tagged in things, but I miss them due to my notifications. Usually I hope for the best and hope tracking the tag puts it on my dashboard <3 im not ignoring anyone!

That's all for now! Hope everyone has a happy December and Happy Holidays!

#update #December update #Amy the chatterbox

[sykostyles]

let you love me 1.2 (final)

wc: 15.6 k (listen, i'm sorry okay)

summary: in which y/n is a 26 year old bakery owner and she can't quite get this whole "love" thing right; settling on finding solace in being alone. One day, Jackson Cole: an egotistical, but oh so charismatic professional quarterback comes along and swears he can change her mind.. and for a while he does. nearly two years of breaking down her walls.. but they seem to argue about one thing a lot. y/n's "negativity". she swears she's not trying ro be a pessimist.. it just works out better for her if she keeps her expectations low. But what happens when she meets a handsome stranger, who wants nothing more than to see her smile? Will she push everything away again or will she finally accept the love she deserves? or ; tldr sunshine! harry x grumpy! afab reader part one, two

a/n: here we have it, the last part of my first story! thank you all so much for the love so far. I can't tell you what it means to me. I can't wait to see what's next. I know this is super long but there was so much I wanted to include with harry and y/n. I hope you all enjoy!

cw: this story contains suggestive and explicit language, minor descriptions of violence, and verbal abuse. please do not continue if these topics upset you!

Never once did you think that your handsome stranger that you met nearly five months ago would still be stopping in your bakery every day. His antics lately have been amped up, he’s very determined to treat you to a night out, but you’re constantly refusing; not quite ready to let yourself be vulnerable again.

“When will you let me take you out, love?”

“When pigs fly, Harry. Doing the same as yesterday?” You say gesturing to the case.

“You wound me, but I know I’ll change your mind. Yes, same as yesterday.”

“Ya know, Harry, the last guy said the same thing, and here we are.” You say, sliding his box over for the hundredth time at this point.

“Ah, but I am indeed not the last guy.” He glances down at his phone, “Give me one moment, I need to step out for just a second.” Harry says before excusing himself out front, Though he isn’t gone long, returning holding something behind his back.

You do often find yourself daydreaming about letting yourself be happy again. It’s a feeling you crave constantly, just the desire to feel heard, feel seen, feel loved.

But, you know that in the long run, it’s better this way. You can’t get hurt if you don’t let yourself get put in that situation. Even though you’re just hurting yourself, you'll just keep pretending you’re not.

“Hopefully this will make your day go a little better,” Harry says, revealing the secret behind his back.

You stare at his hand for a moment. “How did you know?”

“Pardon?” Harry asks, his hand still extended holding the cup of coffee out to you. From your favorite coffee shop down the street. The exact way you like your coffee.

“This. How did you know?” You inquired, taking the cup from his grasp.

“A true magician never reveals his secrets, love. But Ryan just picked it up for me.”

“Har-” you start,

“I know, you say you don’t like the nickname. I’ll make a liar out of you, though. Just give it time.”

“Thank you. For the coffee” You almost whisper.

“Course, love. I’ll bring it to you every day if you’d like.”

“Oh no, I couldn't ask you to do that.” You say, waving your hands back and forth.

“Well, it's a good thing you’re not asking. I’ll see you tomorrow, Love. Have a good rest of your day.”

“Bye, Harry.” You smile to yourself after he leaves.

“And you say you’re not interested in him.” Jesse says leaning against the doorframe leading to the back room.

“I’m not. He’s just being friendly.” You say. Your nose would be growing if your name was Pinocchio, that’s for sure.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, girl. Just give in, you never know what you might be missing out on. He seems to really like you.”

“He does.” You concur, “But so did Jackson.” You whisper, leaving him up front.

Nearing the end of the summer, you finally decided to switch up your answer with Harry. After many conversations with Carly, Jesse, and even Mr. Henry had something to say much to your surprise, you decided maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just see where it went. You didn’t have to sign your life over to him or anything. You were just scared. Harry knew that. “Whenever you’re ready, love. Just know I'll be waiting.” Everyone knew that. They were all just waiting for you to come out of the hole you dug yourself into out of self preservation. They can’t really blame you for being weary, Harry is doing almost exactly what Jackson was doing when he was pursuing you. Although, you do have to admit it feels different this time around. Harry feels different. Harry feels.. Real.

Of course, you were still planning on making him work for it. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t. But like Carly said, if he was deterred by your sharp tongue and witty comebacks, he wouldn’t keep pressing on like he has been. Even though you attempted to throw out the “Jackson was the same way.” excuse but she deadpanned “Not everyone is a egotistical, meathead football player that’ll do anything to get his dick wet.” You weren’t entirely sure if you should have been offended by that statement. But after she showed you all of the headlines Jackson has been in over the last six months regarding his failing love life you both had a few good laughs.

“Good morning, Love. How are you today?” Harry says, sliding the daily cup of coffee across the counter.

“Mm, it would be better if i didn’t have to get out of bed to talk to people like you, but here we are.” You say, bringing the cup to take a sip.

“Such arrows come from that pretty mouth. What will I do with you?” He says with a smirk on his stupidly handsome face.

“You could pick your flavors for the day and move on? There’s an idea.”

“Ooh, and the sass. I’m already practically in love with you, you don’t have to try so hard, love.” He says, turning to the case. “Do you still have that one with the marshmallow in the middle? Ryan really liked those ones.”

You pause, taking a look inside the case to check, “I don’t anymore, those were limited. But tell Ryan I'll make a special batch just for him.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that. We’ll do the chocolate peanut butter then. Those are a close second.” He says, mirroring your words from the first day he stepped foot in your bakery. You box up the order, and make your way to the counter. He hands you his normal black credit card, but when he goes to pick up the box, you stop him.

“No. Send Ryan in here to get them” You say, pulling the box back towards you.

“I beg your pardon, love?”

“Oh, don’t beg yet. There’s plenty of time for that later..” You smirk, “I just want to properly meet Ryan without your.. Influence.”

“Anything you want.” Harry states, making his way to the door. “See you tomorrow, Love.”

You can see Harry telling Ryan what’s going on. Ryan looks ever so confused, and maybe even a little anxious as he makes his way inside.

“Hello, Ryan. It’s a pleasure to officially meet you. I’m Y/N.” You say, holding your hand out.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Miss Y/N.” He says, taking your hand in his and giving you a delicate shake. “Your creations are delicious. Stopping here is the highlight of my day, as well as Mr. Styles out there, He quite enjoys your company.”

“So I’ve noticed.” You say, picking up a marker. You pull the box towards you once more, writing a note on top before sliding it back to Ryan on the other side. “Have a great day, Ryan. See you tomorrow.”

“You as well, Miss Y/N. Enjoy the rest of your day.” He says, making a swift exit.

Staring out the shop window after him, you see him hand Harry the box. Harry’s eyes immediately take in the note you left on top.

“Pick me up after we close at 6 tonight, Mr. Styles.” You signed with your phone number at the bottom. You can see his smile from here. It’s so contagious even Ryan starts to smile. Even YOU start to smile. 

Unknown: very cheeky, love. See you tonight.

You: you shouldn't have expected anything less. See you tonight, Mr. Styles. What should I wear?

Harry: I honestly expected a little more from you. But, I accept your defeat.

Harry: And I’ll take care of everything, Love.

You: Defeat? Hold on there just a minute, mister. I haven’t lost anything.

Harry: I remember a certain “When pigs fly” phrase coming from your mouth. I told you I always get what I want. See you tonight, Love

"Shit. What did I agree to? Should I cancel? Should I close early and hide somewhere? Well then what excuse would I have when he comes in tomorrow? I could tell him I’ve got a case of food poisoning? Or a migraine?"

Just as your thoughts begin to spiral for the umpteenth time in your downtime, the bell on the door chimes. You look up to see Carly, holding a garment bag, and Jesse standing behind her.

“Uh, what are you two doing here?” You say, confusion very evident on your face. “Jesse aren’t you supposed to be like three hours away in some lecture hall?”

“Oh sure, just question why he’s not where he’s supposed to be.” Carly says, laced with a fake offended tone.

“Bitch, did you forget I went to college with you? I know you’re prone to play hooky every now and then.”

“Okay, fair.” She laughs, “But, I received a phone call so I’m doing my end of a deal I made.”

“Same here.” Jesse says from behind her. “I’m here to take over and close up for you.”

“And I’m here to help you get ready!” Carly erupts with excitement. “I’m so excited for you.”

“Wait a second, what deal?” Now you’re even more confused.

“Ah, can’t reveal anything else. Now, upstairs you two go. I got my own date with one of these cookies and cream cupcakes as my reward for helping you get laid.” Jesse says, guiding both of you to the staircase.

“Jesse!”

“Have the best time!” He says before closing the door behind you.

Carly refused to explain anything to you, other than she was given directions to be at your place to start helping you get ready at 4:30 pm sharp. She was just doing what she was told.

“Stop it.” She says, starting to remove the curlers from your hair.. “I know that look. You’re going to have a great time. He’s already head over heels for you. I can tell.”

“That’s what I’m scared of, Carls. I’m so scared.” You whisper. “I don’t know how to accept love anymore.”

“You accept my love. Jesse’s love. Mr. Henry’s. I know it’s different when it’s a romantic situation, but you’ve gotta have a little faith, babe.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“It’s not easy, but that’s what makes it worth it.”

“What if he ends up being just like Jackson?”

“Don’t you see how different he is from him already? He’s made all of this effort just today. He made sure I was out of work. He made sure Jesse was here on time, when Jesse’s supposed to be at school. He literally had an outfit picked up for you, Y/N. Jackson would never include me in a date plan, let alone plan anything with this level of thought behind it. I don’t even think he’s capable of deep thought, but that’s just my opinion.”

“Jackson never planned anything beyond a dinner reservation.” You half laughed. “See what I mean! I know you’re scared, babe, I know. It’s scary being vulnerable. It’s so scary. But it can be so rewarding. But you have to at least try. You won’t get anywhere if you don’t try.”

“But what’s so wrong with being alone?”

“Don’t even start with me right now. I love you, but I will kick your ass.” She says, totally serious.

“Okaaaay, jeez. I get it.”

“Good. Now, bring me your face.” She says, setting your makeup on the counter.

You never thought you’d be walking out your apartment door to meet a man you face planted into in a parking lot. For a date!

You see him leaning against the building opposite yours, dressed in a more casual outfit than you’re used to seeing him in. But you swear you might just prefer this look. His outfit compliments yours; the detailed color in the sun dress he picked out for you emulates the color of his sweater. He’s got his sunglasses pushed atop his head, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other hand holding his phone; and a bouquet of yellow tulips tucked under his arm. He looks divine. The casual sexiness just drips off of him.

“Well hello there, stranger. I almost didn’t recognize you.” You say, causing him to look up from his screen. 

“I’m sor- woah.” He clears his throat. “You look.. Wow.”

“Well, that’s one way to put it. I guess I still got it.”

“I don’t think you could ever lose it, Love.”  He says, sauntering over to you. Grabbing the flowers from under his arm, he extends them to you, “For you, milady.” 

“Okay, seriously, which one of them told you everything about me?” You say, taking the bouquet from his grasp. “Yellow tulips have always been my favorite.”

He smiles down at you. “I would never throw your friends under the bus like that. But they all do love to talk about your interests and seem to have your best ones at heart.”

“They do. I appreciate them so much.” You say quietly. “Thank you. Let me put these inside real fast and we can go.”

“I’ll be right here, Love.” He says, kissing your hand before you walk away. You immediately felt your cheeks get warm.

You step inside the bakery and see Jesse standing at the counter with a vase of water. 

“Oh, so you knew about these too? You’re the mole, huh? Do you know everything related to tonight?” You say, setting the flowers inside the vase.

Jesse looks at you with a smile and pretends to lock his mouth and throw away the key.

“I hate you.” You say walking back to the front door. “Thank you, Jesse. For everything.”

“You know I always got you, girl. Have a great time.”

“So, where are we going?”

“Ah, that would spoil the surprise.” Harry says, checking his mirrors before switching lanes. “But I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy what I’ve got planned.”

“Cutting me up and spreading the parts out across a fifty mile radius?”

“You’re a little morbid, you know that?” he chuckles softly

“So I’ve been told. Does that bother you?” you’re grinning at him.

“What do you think?” He smirks at you, sliding his hand over to rest on your knee.

The car comes to a stop outside a brick building. “Pottery Painting Class Tonight 8-9pm” Reads on the small marquee board.

“Okay now I know you talked to Carly.” You say excitedly as he helps you out of the car, “I’ve always wanted to do one of these!” 

“I had a feeling.” He chuckles. “We are a little early, but there's a diner I love across the street. Come,” He says, holding his hand out to you. You gladly take it and begin to walk hand in hand to your destination.

Settling into a corner booth, your waitress comes and takes your drink order before leaving you to look over the menu. She returns and you let Harry order for you since you were stuck on two options.

“So, what made you finally cave?” He inquires, a heavy smirk upon his face.

“First of all, I didn’t cave. I figured if you’re going to kill me, I might as well get a date out of it.” You quip, leaning your chin onto your hand.

“Always so quick with the comebacks.” He teases. “I don’t think I’ll have time for that this time around, but there’s always next time.” 

“You think there’s going to be a next time?” Your eyebrow raises, a smirk tugging on your lips

“Oh, I know it.” He states without even thinking about it. 

“I do have a few questions for you, though.” You say, your tone somewhat serious.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“Why me?”

“Why not you?”

“You don’t even know me.” You start, “Well, besides what you got out of my friends. You ran into me one day, and then just started showing up out of nowhere. Which doesn't make sense to me either. How did you find me?” Your tone started to seem kind of accusatory. You don’t even let him answer before you start again,  “Don’t get me wrong, I love the daily business, but it just seems too calculated to me. It’s been plaguing my brain since the first day you walked in my shop. So, Why me, Harry?”

“I know how weird this all seems, and I profusely apologize for making it seem like my intentions were anything other than good.” He starts, reaching his hand across the table, his way of asking for yours. You hesitantly oblige. “But I will explain everything to you from my point of view, if you’ll allow me.” He says, thumb gliding over the back of your hand. 

“Well yeah, I’m here aren’t I?” You smirk at him. “But, I’m also here because you got a stamp of approval from my entire peanut gallery. So be grateful to them.”

“I’ll be sure to send them a thank you card.” He says. “But let me start from the beginning, Love.”

Harry had just arrived at the stadium. Head coach Johnson requested his presence to show Harry just how far their dead last draft pick Jackson Cole had been improving. Harry was less than thrilled when his decision was overruled when it came to drafting Cole, he wanted a different pick from the University of Miami, but they went with majority ruling and thus here we are.

So needless to say, Harry didn’t really want to be here right now, but he knew it wouldn’t take too much of his time. Watch the kid throw the ball a few times and gauge his performance from that. Or so he thought, 

“Are you kidding me? Star quarterback kid forgot his practice bag? His practice bag, for the championship game he should be grateful he’s even getting the chance to play in, since my first string is out with a torn ligament? Why am I here wasting my time?” Harry states, business mode turned all the way up to ten.

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Styles. He says his girlfriend is on the way with the bag.”

“If the bag isn’t here in ten minutes, I’m leaving. And something will be done about this.” He says, pulling his phone from his pocket.

The ten minutes pass, and Harry’s irritation rises. He stands from his seat in Johnson’s office and turns to Ryan on his right, “Call for the car, we’re leaving.” Looking to Johnson sitting behind his desk, he points at him, “We’ll be looking to extinguish your contract. If you can’t get your players to remember their gear, why would I think you can get them to remember plays?”

“Mr. Styles, I plead with you to thin-” He’s cut off by the sounds of yelling in the hallway.

All three men make their way out the door to see what the commotion was all about.

“You have got to be the definition of ungrateful. For the greater part of two years I have given you everything and you still think you can talk to me like that?” Harry hears from down the hall. 

He turns and sees Cole’s back facing him, and just over his shoulder he sees a woman. A woman with tears in her eyes and shock and terror all over her face. 

“Is that your star quarterback over there, verbally abusing that woman?” Harry inquires, turning to Johnson. “I swear on your life, i will remove you from this office myself if that boy over there causes any kind of uproar in the media, Do i make myself clear?”

“Crystal, sir.” Johnson says, fear laced in his voice.

Harry turns back towards the scene unfolding before him, but the woman was gone.

“Mr. Styles, the car is up front.” Ryan pipes up from behind him.

“Right, let’s go then. Don’t make me repeat myself, Johnson.” He says before they take off.

“Wait a second, you were there for that?” You question him. He nods, picking up a french fry.

“I was. I heard the whole thing. Right pissed me off. I wish I would have stepped in instead of threatening Johnson.” His jaw ticks.

“You don’t really seem like you could have that kind of scary demeanor.”

“I only show it to people that need to see it.” He says matter of factly. “But, you don’t get very far in business without being like that. At least sometimes. But outside of my business, I’m nothing like that. Unless you want me to be.” He smirks at you.

You blush, but a realization comes into your head, “Hold on, I completely just let this go over my head. Who are you, exactly, Harry?”

He smiles. “I was waiting for this. I’m the majority owner for the team, Love.” Your face goes pale.

Wait. Huh?? The Owner? This is the owner you embarrassed Jackson in front of?

“Jackson said I embarrassed him in front of you that day.” You say, looking down at the table.

Harry laughs, “If anybody embarrassed Jackson, it was Jackson. What grown ass man forgets his work gear? This is his job after all. And, who then verbally assaults the person who brings it to him? In front of everyone, nonetheless.”

He takes in the frown on your face, and decides to shift the direction of the conversation. “You really had no idea who I was this whole time.” He says, more of a statement than a question. 

“Was I supposed to?” You respond quietly, still not sure what to do with this information.

“No, I don’t mean it like that. I’m honestly more surprised than anything.” He says, holding his hands up like he's pre-defending himself, “And i don't mean this in any kind of derogatory way against you, but normally I have women lie, saying they don’t know me to get closer to me. But you really had no idea this whole time. It’s honestly refreshing.”

“You seem really full of yourself.” You say, taking a bite of your pancakes.

“There’s a fine line between confident and cocky, and I know how to keep myself on the right side. But, let me continue.” He says before continuing his story.

Harry made his way out of the elevator with his band of associates behind him. Ryan was giving him the run down of his next meeting as they walked to the car.

“We have a 1:30 pm meeting with Lyons, but I can resche-” Ryan is cut off by the sound of Harry huffing.

“Woah there love, I gotcha.” It's her. It’s the woman Cole was belittling. She looks so.. sad. I should offer to do so-

“Sorry. You can let go now.” Nice one, Styles.

“My apologies, Love.”

“Don’t call me that.” She says, rolling her eyes at the man before her.

He continues to recount your first meeting exactly as you remember it. He throws in the detail of asking Ryan to look into you, wanting to be fully transparent with you.

“So you knew who I was before this? How is that fair?”

“I suppose it’s not, but I only requested your name and where you worked. I didn’t want to learn anything else before I heard it from you.”

“Say’s the guy who made a ‘deal’ with all of my friends in order to get me here today.” You chuckle.

“Okay, fair. But in my defense, how you take your coffee, what your favorite flower is, and something you’d be interested in doing for a date isn’t entirely sensitive information, Love.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Styles. I happen to take my interests and passions very seriously. These are very sensitive topics.” 

“I’ll gladly discuss any sensitive topic you’d like, Love. But perhaps we should save that for when we’re alone, no? Unless you’re into that.” He teases.

“You know, Harry, I just might have met my match with these comebacks of yours, and I don't appreciate being threatened.”

“Is that a challenge?” He says, leaning closer to you across the table.

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” you say, matching his movements.

Just as he’s about to seal the deal, his phone buzzes letting him know your class is about to start across the street.

“Ah, but I guess that will have to wait until later.” You say, standing from your seat.

Harry ran his hand along his face, covering his mouth and breathed out a laugh. “This girl.” He thinks. He takes your hand after throwing more than enough cash down on the table, and you make your way back to the brick building that will be housing your date for the evening.

Throughout the course of the rest of your date, you learn more about Harry. He’s 30. His favorite color is orange. “Wait no blue. No, orange. Orange.” He’s an Aquarius, though he swears he doesn’t understand why that’s relevant. He was born in England but moved here when he was 22 to run the US branch of his company. He has his hands and feet in all kinds of different baskets. He’s in the market of construction, publishing, restaurants, real estate; you name it. He’s worked every single day since the day he graduated and he’s turned his business into what it is today. His successful business is what made it possible to be the majority owner of the team Jackson plays for. His parents and sister are still back in England and he misses them terribly, but he travels back as often as he can to see them. Especially now that he’s an uncle! He loves all sports, but American football just really spoke to him. He says soccer is his second favorite. Or the true football according to him.

“But why did you decide to pursue me so intricately? I was so rude to you both of the first real times we spoke.” You question, sweeping your paintbrush across the teapot you chose.

He ponders for a split second, “I got fixated with how it made me feel inside to be the one to make you smile” He says without looking up from the bowl that he chose to paint. “Plus, I saw your disdain for me as a challenge. And I love a challenge.” He smirks, still not looking up at you.

You stare at him in awe, taking in how his brows furrowed together in concentration. He answered you with such an easiness in his tone. “I just don’t know how someone like you could be interested in someone like me.”

“How could I not?” He says, finally looking up at you. ”You’re so determined, and incredibly talented. You’re undoubtedly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. But you looked so broken and exhausted when I saw you for the first time at the stadium. It broke my heart. I wanted to do everything in my power from that moment on to put a real smile back on your face. I didn’t know you then, but I wanted to. I wanted to take all the pain you were feeling away. That’s all I know.” He says, setting his brush down.

You thoroughly enjoyed yourself tonight and you probably told Harry how much fun you had about 13 times in the time it took him to drive you home. It made his heart swell to know he’d made you so happy tonight. Harry walked you to your apartment door, before turning you to face him, his hands finding purchase on your lower back.

“I had a wonderful time with you tonight, Love,” He says, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear; his touch ghosting your skin, giving you goosebumps.

You roll your eyes. “You won’t ever let up with that nickname, will you?”

“Never. Not when I get this reaction out of you.” He smirks, looking down at your lips. “May i?”

You don’t even hesitate before you nod. He immediately leans down and covers your lips with his. The feeling of warmth, and desire seeps into every pore across your entire body. His kiss feels like everything you’ve ever longed for. You feel safe. You feel at home. A feeling you hadn’t felt since you were twenty years old and lost the only two people you had left you were willing to call biological family. He made you feel alive again.

“Mm, exactly how I imagined.” He says in between rushed kisses, lips moving perfectly in sync.

“You imagined this?” You say breathlessly.

“Only every second of every. fucking. day, Love.” He says after he reluctantly pulls away. “But, I need to stop myself before I get too excited. I want this to be right.”

You shake your head, “You’re just fine.” You say before cupping both of his cheeks and capturing his lips with yours once more. “This is just right.”

“As much as I want this with you right now, we shouldn’t.” He’s gripping your wrists and gently pulling them from his face. “You have no idea how bad I want this.”

“So let’s go upstairs.” You say, trying to free your arms from his grasp.

“Love, look at me.” He says, now grabbing the sides of your neck to angle your head up at him again. “I want nothing more than to take you upstairs and give you everything you deserve.” You’re nodding along with his words, a desperate smile on your face. “But I want to take my time with you. Will you let me take my time with you and do this right?” He asks, sliding his hands up and  caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

“I guess so.” You say, voice echoing disappointment.

“Hey, none of that. I’ll take care of you soon, I promise. But for now, I want you to take your cute butt upstairs, and call your friends. I’m sure they’re all waiting to hear how much fun you had tonight. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Harry.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“Good girl,” He says, making your breath hitch and cheeks flush. “Now, Up you go. He says, not before pressing one last kiss to your pouty lips.

“See you tomorrow?” You say, turning towards him one last time.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Love.” He waits until he hears your door close behind you before making his way back to his car. He feels his phone vibrate in the cup holder.

You: Thank you for tonight, Mr. Styles. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Harry: The pleasure was all mine, Love. I would enjoy doing that again with you sometime soon.

You: Whenever you want, Harry.

Harry: Ah, I did mention getting what I want, didn't I? How about this weekend? Saturday after you close? I’ll pick you up.

You: It’s a date. Goodnight, Harry.

Harry: Goodnight, Love.

Throwing yourself down on your bed you call Carly. Of course she’s answering on the first ring because she’s as nosy as the rest of us. “GIRL YOU BETTER TELL ME EVERYTHING!” She says as soon as the lines connect.

“Why else would I be calling? I have so much to tell you!” You recount the night's events to her with as much detail as you can. Although that doesn’t stop her from trying to pry for more.

“What do you mean he rejected you? I am so confused.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. He just wants to ‘take things slow and do this properly’ as he said in his fancy accent.” You tell her.

“What a gentleman.” Carly muses. “I want one.” She huffs through the phone. “Is Ryan single?”

Saturday’s business hours come and go before you can even process them. I mean, you did close two hours early to get ready but you still didn’t think you weren’t that close to your date with Harry. 

Although, you haven’t seen Harry yet today. Ryan is the one who stopped in at lunch time. Ryan claimed it was because Harry was taking care of some business he needed to attend to before your date tonight. Harry told Ryan to make sure you didn’t worry, that you were still on for tonight and that he was sorry he couldn’t be there today. You made your way upstairs and began your getting ready process. Which included a hot shower, exfoliating, shaving every inch.. You know, the everything shower. Carly asked if you wanted her to help you again, but you declined; wanting to take your time with your self care.

Checking your phone for the hundredth time this hour, you finally get the message you’ve been waiting for.

Harry: I’m on my way, love. Can’t wait to see you.

You felt immediate goosebumps all over and butterflies in your stomach. “Oh god.” You think. “I already like him. maybe too much.” You could hear Carly scolding you now, “Bitch, knock it off. You’ve been miserable for long enough.” You think maybe she's right.

Harry’s there to pick you up at 6 pm on the dot. His black Range Rover settled behind him as he watches you make your way across the street. He reaches his hand out for you to grab once you’re close enough and he pulls you to stand between his legs, hands settling on your hips.

“Hello, Love.” He smiles down at you, eyes peering over his expensive sunglasses.

“Ello, govna. Fancy a date wiff meh?” You choke out, in your worst accent possible. He chokes on his own spit at that.

“Oh my g-, what was that?” he says, unable to hold his laughter.

“I thought I'd give your accent a shot.” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

“It’s a good thing you’re talented in other areas, love, because impressions are not your strong suit.” He says, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Shall we go, then?” He says, nodding towards his car.

“We shall.” You let him guide you around the car and open your door for you. (Jackson would never btw) He makes his way back around before sliding into his seat and taking off.

Your second date ensues without a hitch. He took you to a record store! He perused the entire store with you for hours. You both showed each other different albums and explained what they meant to you. He showed you his favorite Pink Floyd record and you showed him your favorite band's sophomore album that had gotten you through some really dark times. He kept eye contact with you and nodded along with your words, expressing his condolences for you having to experience so much already in your life. The fact that he even remembered you mentioning you enjoy vinyl hunting had you sure of one thing, you’re certain you like this man more than you should. And you’re terrified. But in the best way.

Harry gets you home around 10 pm, and walks to your door again.

“I would like to ask you a pretty important question.” Harry states, placing the palm of his hand against your cheek. You lean into his touch and nod, letting him know to continue. “I know this is rather sudden, but I would like to start seeing you. Officially, I mean.” Maneuvering his hands to tilt your face towards him, he presses a kiss to your cheek. “Call you mine.” The other cheek. “Make you happy.” Now your forehead. “Treat you with the utmost respect, like you deserve.” He kisses your nose. “Will you let me do that, sweet girl?” He pauses, gauging your reaction. 

You nod your head like a mad woman, a massive smile on your face, “Oh god, yes!.” You say. And it feels like an entire weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You never imagined all those months ago that you’d be standing here with your handsome stranger agreeing to start a relationship with him. Who are you? What have you done with Y/N? Is Y/N even in the room with us?

Harry smiles a smile that can only be described as.. painful looking. “My sweet girl, gonna treat you so well. The way you deserve. Been waiting months for this.” He says, pressing his lips to yours. You reach your hands up, tangling them in his soft curls, and pull yourself to your tippy toes, attempting to meet his height. “Please,” You whisper against his lips before kissing him again. He leans down over you, trying to pull you as close to him as possible. “Please what, sweet girl?” He teases, “Gotta use your words for me, pretty.” He says, tilting your head back and placing featherlight kisses along your jawline, heading towards your right ear and taking your lobe into his mouth.

“Oh my god, Harry–Fuck.” You groan out. “Please, don’t make me wait again.” You plead, pulling his lips back to yours.

“Is my girl sure this is what she wants? I thought we agreed to take this slow.” He teases again.

“I changed my mind! Please, Harry. Please.” You plead, making him chuckle.

“Who am i to deny you, Love.” He says.

You clumsily make your way upstairs, the both of you too damn stubborn to attempt to break your kiss. Layers of clothing are shed as you make your way into your bedroom. He pauses one more time at the end of your bed, both of you only left in your underwear, “Are you sure about this Love? We can stop right now and it wouldn’t change anything.” You shake your head and push him down, straddling his lap. “I seem to remember a promise you made about taking me upstairs and giving me everything I deserve. I’m waiting for that promise to be kept, Mr. Styles.”

“Well then, allow me to demonstrate.” He says, flipping you both over so you were under him, eliciting a shriek of laughter from you.

1.2.1 (please mind the tags before you read!)

A couple months have passed and it’s cold out again. Harry’s been making good on his promise to treat you well, treat you how you deserve. He still makes his daily stops to get his cupcake and drop your coffee off, and he makes sure to give you the dozens of kisses you demand before he’s allowed to leave. You feel like a different person; you would never be caught dead showing this level of affection to a partner, let alone in a semi public setting. All of your friends are so immensely proud of you, but nobody says anything lest to make you feel embarrassed. Harry claims the title of your biggest fan and your number one supporter. Although he and Carly like to “argue” over that title. You were thrilled to finally have a relationship where your boyfriend and your best friend actually got along.

When Mr. Henry stopped in the day after your first date, you feigned ignorance.

“Good morning, dear. How was your evening?” He inquires, a smirk evident on the elderly man's face.

“Eh, it was pretty boring. I tried out this new recipe for a chocolate ganache to put on a cake. Turned out pretty well. I’m kind of excited.” You say, boxing up his normal order, plus some extras as a thank you for him to find later.

“What do you mean? I thought yo-, wait a minute. You’re being a smart ass aren’t you?” He asks, brows furrowing together.

“What was your end of the deal? I already got it out of the other two. What’s your excuse, huh?” You tease him.

“You little shit. Haha, alright. You got me there. I didn’t agree to get anything in return. There isn’t anything he could give me that I need, dear. I have all I could ever need right here.” He motions to you and Rocco. “I just wanted you to have a chance to be truly happy, like I got to be. I want you to find someone to eat peanut butter cookies for after they're gone. That’s all I asked for from him in return. He said he would do his best to make me proud. And I believe him, dear.”

The tears well in your eyes before you can even process what’s happening.

“Well, now I didn't tell you that to make you cry.” Mr. Henry picks up a napkin and hands it to you, “I’ve told you before, no time for that. You’ve got cookies to sell.”

Jesse has returned from school again for winter break. He’s been keeping tabs on you while he’s been gone though. He was so excited for you when you informed him you and Harry were officially an item. 

“Yeah, and you tried telling me you weren’t interested in him.” He says, spinning a rose nail between his fingers like you taught him.

“Ooh, see! now, twist it back and start where you left off.” You said, encouraging his progress. “Ya know, Jesse, I never claimed to be perfect.” You joke.

“I know, girl. I’m just glad you’re letting yourself be happy again. It right hurt my heart to see you so sad. Mr. Henry and I were about to start scheming together.” He picks the rose up off the nail, and sets it down where you have it marked on top of the cake.

“I think all of you did plenty of scheming, don’t you?” You say, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Okay, you got me there. But can you blame us?”

“I suppose not.” You say checking the time on your phone. “Hey, Harry asked me to make his cupcake drop at the stadium. Are you okay if I run these to him real fast? I’ll be back in no time at all.”

“Go on, girl. I got this. Go get your man.” Jesse says, starting another rose on the nail. “Still can’t believe you bagged a team owner. Badass — seriously.”

You make the drive to the stadium and you’re surprised to see the team in the parking lot doing drills. You don’t think anything of it and pull into one of Harry’s parking spots near the gate like he told you to do. Gathering your various items, you step out of your car and turn to close the door.

“What are you doing here?” You hear behind you. Jackson.

“Mm, I don’t really think that’s any of your business.” You huff before continuing on your way.

“We haven’t been together for nearly a year, I have no desire to see you here.” Jackson says, rather angrily, following hot on your trail.

“Well, it's a good thing I’m not here to see you. So if you’ll excuse me.” You make a hasty exit from the conversation and let your feet carry you to Harry’s office.

“Hello, my love.” Harry says upon your entrance. “What do you have for me today?”

You half smile at him, “Um, there’s a cookies and cream for you, and the marshmallow filled for Ryan.” You say, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” He inquires from his seat.

You nod, even though it’s a lie. He shakes his head at you. “Come here, Love.” he says motioning for you to join him on his side of the desk. He pulls you to sit in front of him on the desk, he cages you in with his arms “Now, you know I don’t like dishonesty, Love.” He starts, “What’s bothering you?”

“I hate that you can read me like a book.” you mumble, your eyes beginning to well with tears.

“Mm, Have been able to since the beginning. Are you gonna tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“It’s just Jackson.” You mumble, fidgeting with your hands in your lap.

“Did he say something to you?” Harry says, his tone serious now.

“No! I mean — kind of. The guys were all in the parking lot doing drills and when he saw me, he asked why i was here, I told him it was none of his business, and then he told me he didn’t want me here.”

“I hope you gave that punk an earful.” He says, running his palms over the tops of your clothed thighs..

“I told him that it was a good thing I wasn't here to see him, and to excuse me.” You said, recounting what happened.

“Good girl. That works too. I’ll deal with him. Wanted him gone a long time ago”

“No, please, just leave it be. I don’t want to give him a reason to hate me even more. He still scares me. I didn’t recognize him that night. H-he grabbed my face and told me I n-needed to be m-more obedient to him. Please don’t make it any w-worse, Harry, please,” You plead tears beginning to stream down your face.

“Woah, pretty, let's calm down, yeah?.” He coos, pulling you off of the desk and onto his lap. He rubs soothing circles on your back and guides your breathing. “It’s okay, my sweet girl. Nobody can hurt you. I’ve got you, baby. Everything will be okay.”

Harry holds you for a while longer while he continues to do some of his work at his desk. He glances down at his watch, taking in the time. “I’m sorry, Love, I’ve got a meeting in 15, I would cancel again but that would be three times in a row.” You sit up slowly before you say, “Oh, it’s alright. I’ve gotta get back to Jesse.” He tucks your hair behind your ears and kisses you softly. “Will you be alright getting back? Should I send Ryan with you?

“No, I’ll be okay. Will I see you tonight?” You inquire, standing from his hold.

“Well, of course. I expect my nightly dose of attitude when I get there, too.” He says before giving a light pinch to your ass, making you squeal. “Let me know once you’ve made it back, my love.”

“Yes, sir.” You mumble out and you swear you almost hear Harry groan.

“Keep it up, sweetheart. You might like what happens.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You make your way to the door and he opens it for you, letting you step into the hallway before him. You’re trying to be cute when you attempt to leave without a proper goodbye, but he isn’t having any of that. Harry reaches out and spins you to face him, arms immediately wrapping around your frame, making you giggle. 

“And just where do you think you’re going without my ‘see you later’ kiss, hm?” He inquires. 

”I’m sorry, who are you?” You say, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Oh, baby, allow me to remind you.” And he's kissing you again, making you whimper, but not for long before he’s pulling away. 

“Nooo, one more.” you plead, chasing his lips with yours. 

“Who are you begging for a kiss from a stranger? Naughty girl.” He teases, making you giggle again. “Off you go, my love. I’ll see you tonight.” and he sends you on your way.

You begin to make your way to your car, unaware of the following eyes. You start to hear the echo of footsteps behind you, so you peer over your shoulder and see Jackson at the end of the hall trailing behind you. You panic and begin to speed walk the last bit to your car before locking your doors once inside.

“You know, I thought you were pathetic, but this is ridiculous.” You hear through your driver side window.

“Go away, Jackson.”

“How long have you been fucking him? Huh? How long have you been plotting this? Was this your plan all along? Sleep your way up the football hierarchy? I gotta say, you made one hell of a jump; quarterback to owner? Damn girl. Could’ve at least started with an offensive coordinator, or one of the coaches.” His words were coming at you so fast.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you wanted me first, remember?” You say, starting your car.

“You’re a right bitch, you know that? He’ll realize it soon enough and leave you in the dust like I did.”

“Did you literally forget that I’m the one who left you, genius?” You said before backing out, and pulling away.

Jackson stood and watched your car leave the parking lot, a scheme brewing in his big ass head. “I’ve got just the way to make you crumble, princess, don’t worry.” He says, laughing to himself before making his way back into the stadium.

Christmas is coming, really fast. Like in three days fast. You realize you have nothing for anybody besides Jesse. You’d gotten him a figurine of his favorite character from his favorite anime. With the promise to Jesse of as many cupcakes as he wanted, you asked him if he’d cover by himself for a few hours while you attempted to get something for Harry, Carly, Mr. Henry, Rocco, and Ryan of course. Jesse of course accepted, settling on the idea of continuing his cake decorating. You dress yourself for the cold and make your way to the mall you know has everything.

Carly, Mr. Henry, and Rocco are all very easy to shop for. Carly loves wine, makeup, and the show Sex & The City. Mr. Henry always enjoys extra cookies of course, but you also like to get him a new set of cold gear every year. He wears them until they’re worn out until the next Christmas. He says he always appreciates it because his wife used to do the same, and that it really makes him feel cared for. That man just loves to make you cry by being sweet, and then tell you to knock it off for crying. You can't ever win with him. Rocco of course loves a good treat bag and a new toy. But you always make sure to get him a doggy scarf to match with Mr. Henry’s. 

You’d even surprisingly found something for Ryan, well two things. One of them is just a tie in a very specific color he mentioned liking, and the other is a pen that makes a sound when he clicks the top. It says “Yes, Mr. Styles.” in Ryan’s voice. You swore you’ve heard Ryan say those words more than you’ve heard him say anything else. Makes sense since he is Harry’s right hand man. But now, here we  are. Nothing for arguably the most important person.

Taking out your phone on your journey back to your car, you tap on his contact. He answers the phone on the second ring. ”Hi, sweet girl. You okay?” 

You giggle, “Of course I’m okay, why wouldn’t I be?” Reaching your car, you set your bags in the trunk and slide into the driver's seat. 

“Well, you never have time to call me in the middle of the day, so I thought something might be wrong.” He says, his voice seeming calmer now. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m out shopping. I guess I actually do kind of need your help.” You make his heart rate pick up at him hearing you needing him for something. He knew how hard asking for help was for you, no matter how small the act in question was, so he was proud of you. 

“I’m all ears, baby. What can I do for you?” 

You hesitate for a moment, “What is something you think you’d like for christmas?” 

You can hear him sigh a laugh through the phone. “Baby, I don’t need anything from you. I have all I could ever need. You gave me everything the day you agreed to be mine.” 

His words make you tear up, but your bratty side still takes over 99% of the time. “Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?” You say, tone feigning attitude. 

“Mm, sometimes my girlfriend does when she’s pretending to be pissed at me.” He quips back at you.

“She sounds like a handful.” 

“She’s many things, but never that.” He’s doing that thing again where he talks about how easy it is to love you. “She thinks her words are sharp enough to cut.” He starts again, “But I think she’s just deflecting.”  

“I hate you.” You whisper, but he can hear your smile through the phone.

“Are you sure about that, Love?

“Yes, you still didn’t answer my question. I asked what you wanted, not what you needed.” Attempting to steer the conversation from where it was going.. But that didn’t work out very well.

“Sweet girl, I don’t think you want me to tell you what I want over the phone when I know what I’d tell you would leave you an achy mess for the rest of the day.” there’s not a single ounce of hesitation in his voice.

“Like you’d pass up an opportunity to make me squirm.” You say, a real attitude prevalent in your tone. Since he wants to go there.

“Is that a challenge? I can start listing all the ways I plan on making you squirm once I get my hands on you. You want that?”

“Y-yes.” You breathe out. Until you realize you’re sitting in your car. Sitting in your car in a public parking lot. Y/N, get a grip. “I mean, n-no. No. Stop distracting me.” You clear your throat. “Tell me something you want for Christmas, I’m serious Harry.”

“You really want to know?” He says quietly, but you know that voice.

“Nope. Bye.” You say hanging up on him. You knew exactly where that was going. He immediately calls you back but you send him to voicemail. Putting your car in drive, you take off after the perfect idea popped into your head. You just hoped this place still had what you were looking for. Harry’s still trying to call you but you’ve turned on DND. You start to get excited wondering what his reaction will be to that.

Making your way back to the bakery, you’d called Jesse ahead of time requesting his help with the big box while you got the bags. “Where do you want this box?” He asks walking in after you.

“Would you mind taking it upstairs? Pretty pleaaaase?” You say, setting your bags on the counter.

“You got it, girl. Be right ba-, wait, keys? Oh, I see them. Be right back.” 

You turn to see the cake he was working on, thoroughly impressed by his progress. His roses are damn near perfect at this point. Now if he could just get some not dude looking handwriting, he’ll be golden! You’re turning the cake to check out the other side when the doorbell chimes. Without taking your eyes off the cake you begin to speak, “Welcome in, give me just one second.” Lifting your hands up you begin to slide the cake off of the lazy susan before turning to place the cake in the cooler. But when you turn around, you’re met with Jackson; standing at your bakery counter with a blue folder in his hand, and a devious smile on his face. He has you cornered. And Jesse is still upstairs. The cake falls from your hands right onto the floor in front of your feet.

“I finally have a way to make you pay for what you did to my career, you football ladder climbing slut.” He sneers at you, waving the folder back and forth.

“I-I d-don’t, wh-what?”

“You. You ruined me when you left.”

“I didn’t do anything to you. I didn’t say anything about you. I don’t even think I unfollowed you for heaven's sake, Jackson.” You say getting louder, hoping Jesse will hear and come back down. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’ve played like shit since you left. You fucked with my head and I haven’t played the same.”

“I fucked with your head? You’re joking right?”

“Dead serious, princess. As serious as this folder right here. Here, this is your copy anyways." He says, sliding your bags off the counter, sending the limited edition Pink Floyd album that you had just bought Harry for Christmas onto the floor. Completely shattering it. The album was a first edition pressing from 1975 when the album came out. Harry wouldn’t let you buy it for him the night of your first date. “Haven’t got a turntable, Love. I wouldn’t be able to appreciate it properly.” But that’s what Jesse was taking upstairs. You’d bought him a turntable and his first record. That was now shattered on the floor. “Oops.” Jackson says, feigning an apology.

“What do you want, Jackson?” You say, snatching the folder from his hand.

“I now own this entire building, and you have one week to get all of  your shit and get the fuck out.” He says, inching closer to you over the counter.

Your eyes widen. “W-what, what the fuck are you talking about? Jesse! Jesse, come back, please!” You scream, flipping through the pages of the folder.

“Jesse, come back, please!” Jackson mocks you. “Jesse can’t do shit.” but that's when Jesse comes barreling down the stairs.

“Ah ah ah, pretty boy. I will own everything you own in the matter of seconds once you lay a finger on me. Let me explain to the both of you — since you demanded an audience — how this works.” He says, sauntering over to the table by the window and plopping down in the chair. “You own this business, not the building.” That is true. Your business is a part of a strip of brick buildings and they all have apartments above them. You paid rent every month like everyone else did along the strip. “The building was owned by Jeff Walker, who just so happened to get a pretty nice cash offer from yours truly. And now I’m the owner. How does that make you feel, princess? You wanna sleep with me again now that I own something?”

His words make you want to vomit. You’re thankful Harry has never called you princess.

“Dude, get out of here. Don’t make me call the cops.” Jesse says, stepping in front of the counter.

“Oh, I’m not staying. Just gotta let my tenants know who their new landlord is. You got a week, princess. And you’re out.” He says, flinging the door open before leaving.

You’re frozen. You’re staring at the papers saying Jackson owns your building, and you’re frozen. You can’t move. You can’t think. You almost can't even breathe. You don’t even hear Jesse calling your name. Not until he grips your shoulders and shakes you.

“Y/N, come on, come back to me.” He pleads. But you’re sinking to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest. He panics. Looking in your bag, he grabs your phone and calls Harry.

“Oh, now you want to continue what you started earlier? I see how you are, Naughty girl.” Harry says when he answers the phone.

“Look man, I’ll pretend like i didn’t hear that if you please get to Y/N’s shop as soon as you possibly can.”

“Did something happen? What’s wrong?” Panic rising in Harry’s tone.

“Jackson was here, there’s some folder. I don–, just get here, please. She needs you.”

“Fuck, Okay. I am on my way right now. Thank you for calling me, Jesse. Tell her I’ll be there soon.”

Jesse gets down on the floor with you and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Hey, you’re good. Harry’s on his way, alright?”

Harry gets to your shop in record time. Pushing the door open and rushing inside like his life depended on it. “Baby? Where are you?” he asks, not seeing anybody.

“We’re down here!” Jesse claims from behind the counter. Harry walks around the counter taking in the sight before him. You’re cradled into Jesse, absolutely shaking.

“Oh no, my girl. Come here, baby.” He says.

“She says she can’t stand.”

“Oh, I know she can. She’s strong. C’mon baby, let's go upstairs.” He says, placing his hand on your shoulder. “C’mon, I know you can.”

You shake your head. “H-he b-bought the building, H-harry.” You cry out, “I’m going to lose ever—” Unable to speak, your sobs take over.

“What is she talking about?” He asks, looking at Jesse, not wanting you to try to talk anymore.

“It’s all in that folder.’ Jesse nods his head towards the counter next to Harry.

He picks it up, flipping through the contents. “Hah, that fucker.” He says, folding the folder in half and tucking it into his jacket pocket. “Alright, Love.” He says, leaning down to pull you up and into his arms. “Up we go.” He tosses you slightly to get his arms in the right spots under your knees and across your back.

“I’ll take care of everything down here. Thank you for coming, man.” Jesse gently grabs Harry’s shoulder. 

“Of course. Thank you for calling.” Harry responds before he disappears with you up the stairs. 

He walks you into the bathroom and sets you down on the counter before trying to step away from your hold, but your arms remained locked around his neck. “No. Stay. Please.”

“I am, baby, I want to run you a bath.” He chuckles, “Promise, I'm coming right back, yeah?” he presses his lips to your temple to soothe you. You nod and let him go. Harry walks over to the bathtub and turns the knob. Setting his arm out to test the water until it’s warm enough for your liking, and drops the stopper in the drain. Before returning to you, he drops some of your lavender bubble bath that’s placed on the side of your tub. He stands between your legs again and places his hands on your hips. “Alright, my girl, arms up.” He says while grabbing the hem of your sweatshirt.

“Will y-you get in w-with me?” You ask as he reaches behind you to gently undo your bra.

“Of course, If that’s what you want.” He’s reaching down to unbutton your jeans and you slide down off the counter so he can pull them down your legs along with your underwear. “My girl. I hate seeing you so sad. Let’s get you relaxed. Deal with what we can right now, yeah?” You nod, trying to even out your breathing. He pulls his clothes from his body before settling in the tub. Harry holds his hand out to help guide you, “Careful, don’t slip.” he says as you set your foot down into the warm water. You sink down and Harry pulls you to lay on his front, wrapping his arms around your waist before sinking so you're both covered by the water. “Alright, sweetheart, you’re safe now. I’m here with you,” He says, rubbing soothing circles where his thumbs rest on your hips.

“He’s ruined everything, Harry.” You cry.

“Baby, he hasn’t ruined anything yet. He’s got a piece of paper saying he’s giving Walker some money. We can’t solve anything about that right now. Let’s focus on what we can solve, okay? What can we solve right now, even if it’s small?” He asks you, reaching up to rub his hands all over your back.

You shake your head, “Can you just hold me, please?”

“Course i can. We can talk later if you want?” 

“Can you just talk? Distract me?”

“Absolutely, love. About anything in particular?”

“Talk to me about your tattoos.” You say, running your fingers over the ones you can see on his chest.

Harry goes into his story about when he started getting his tattoos. He tells you the stories behind the ones that mean the most to him. He explains his tattoos as a collection of memories of instances in his life that he never wants to forget. You think that sounds wonderful.

“Would you get one for me?” You ask, partially teasing.

“Of course I would. I’d do it tomorrow.”

“Wait, really? I wasn’t serious. That’s permanent, Harry.”

“Really? They are? I had no idea.” He teases you. “Better get my money back. I was wondering why they weren’t coming off in the shower.”

“You’re so annoying.” You huff at him, making him breathe a laugh through his nose. “What would you get for me?”

“Hm, hard to tell. Perhaps the outline of a cupcake?” He muses at you.

“I quite like that idea, Mr. Styles.”

“I enjoy any idea that keeps a piece of you with me forever.” He says placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You know, you give my cupcakes a run for their money with your sweetness.” You say earning a chuckle from him.

Harry continues to hold you until you begin to stir. “Are you ready to get out?” He’s looking down at you, continuing his ministrations with his hands on your hips.

You nod, “Yeah. Will you keep holding me though?” You ask.

“Anything you want, baby.” He assures you.

Harry gently dries you off before helping you brush your hair, and put a set of your pajamas on. You’ve seen every inch of this man but these actions here feel so much more intimate to you. You’ve never felt so cared for in your life. He slides into a pair of his clothes that you keep in a drawer for him in your dresser--He melted when you told him that it was his drawer– and he gets into your bed with you. He curls himself around you, face tucked into your neck, an arm sliding under your shoulders, and the other across your waist, and he pulls you as close as he possibly can.

You’re soothed by the soft thump of his heartbeat against your back, and the warmth of his even breaths against your neck. Your breathing finally begins to fully calm, and you slowly stop shaking. 

“M’ so tired, Harry.” You whisper. He places a soft kiss on the nape of your neck.

“You wanna take a nap, baby? I’ll stay with you.” He says, breath tickling your throat.

“That’s not what I meant. I’m tired of everything going wrong.”

“Everything hasn’t gone wrong, sweetheart. I will look into this first thing in the morning, okay?”

“He broke your christmas present.” You say, turning yourself in his hold so you were facing him. “I found you the perfect gift and it’s gone. Shattered, Harry.”

“Baby, I told you, you’re the best gift I could have asked for. Material things are great, but I’d rather have you.” He says, cradling the side of your face.

“You have me all the time, Harry. Why do you always have the right thing to say?” You roll your eyes at him, trying not to smile. He makes it so hard to be upset. He looks at things with such a positive outlook and it’s so contagious. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” He quips, sliding his hand under your jaw and lightly squeezing, eliciting a whimper from you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say, blinking your lashes at him.

“Sure you don’t, pretty.” He says, placing a chaste kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry you had such a rough day. We’ll start over tomorrow, okay? Is there anything else we can do tonight to make you feel a little better?” He says while peppering kisses all over your face, making you giggle. “Anything at all, baby?” You know exactly what he wants, how he wants to distract you.

“Nope, not a thing.” You say as he slides his other hand further down your body, teasing the hem of your sleep shorts. “Can’t think of anything else I n–eed toni–, ohh.” The tips of his fingers find that spot, and you’re at a loss for words; He stole them right from your mouth and replaced them with his tongue. You reach your hands up, winding them in his hair and pull him off of you, “Please, don’t stop.” You say before connecting your lips again.

“Oh, but I thought my girl didn’t need anything else from me?” He teases.

“Harry, I swear to god I'll kill you.”

“Ooh, she’s feisty now, everybody.” He says while gently turning you two over so he’s leaning over you. “Sure you can’t think of anything else you need?” You shake your head, trying to pull his face to yours, and hooking your leg around his hip to pull him closer, but he’s not budging. “Gotta use your words for me, baby.”

You pout at him, “I hate you.” 

“Sure you do, sweetheart. Gonna tell me what you need?”

“You. Need you. Please.”

Harry wakes up a few hours later to the feeling of you wrapped around him. If you asked him, he’d take this version of waking up every day. But he'll have that conversation with you later, when he knows you’re ready to have it.

Slowly, he peels himself away from you, it warms his heart to see your sleeping frame frown at the loss of his warmth. “I’ll be right back, baby. Just need to make a call.” He whispers against your forehead before pressing a kiss. He knows you’re sleeping, but just in case a small part of you wasn't, he didn't want that small part to worry. Harry quietly pulls your bedroom door shut before making his way into your kitchen. He finds his jacket and retrieves his phone, immediately calling Ryan.

“Yes, Mr. Styles?” Ryan says as soon as he answers the phone.

“Ryan, I need you to do something.” Harry breathes into the phone. “I need you to get a meeting with Jeff Walker. As soon as possible.”

Stretching your arm to the right, you feel the cold sheets of your bed. You sit up and notice your door is slightly ajar, and faintly you can hear the clattering of pans in the kitchen.

“Harry?” You call out, slipping out of the comfort of your bed. You wince at the ache in your legs once you pull yourself to stand. Harry’s sweatshirt is laying on the ottoman at the end of your bed, so you slip that over your head and make your way towards the sounds in the kitchen.

Taking in the sight before you, a shirtless Harry standing at the counter, whisking something together in a large bowl. His sweatpants are hanging dangerously low on his hips, and his hair is wildly unkempt looking. But you’d wake up to this sight every day if he asked you to. He’s still unaware of your presence, so to really get his attention you saunter over behind him and slowly snake your arms around his middle, laying your cheek against his bare back.

“Good morning, pretty.” He says placing one of his hands over yours on his chest. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mm, like a baby.” You hum against his back. “My legs are sore though, you menace.” He chuckles at that, turning himself in your hold, wrapping his arms around you.

“Are you complaining?” He asks, placing a kiss on your temple.

“No, not at all.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Rolling our eyes this early? You a masochist or something?” He teases you, pinching your ass and making you jolt.

You shake your head and press your face into his chest. “No. You’re just annoying.”

“Mm, mhm. So annoying, baby.” He says before kissing the crown of your head. Harry then reaches his hands down the backs of your thighs and lifts you onto the counter.. “Let me finish this, and then I’m all yours until we have to get ready for work. How’s that sound?”

“I don’t think I can do it today, Harry. I’m so mentally exhausted. I don’t want to open my shop if I won’t be able to open it a week from now.”

“Oh, my sweet girl. Everything will fall into place, I promise.” He says cupping your cheek; swiping over the surface with his thumb.

“How can you stand there and say that? How can you know that?” You say, not accusingly but with a pleading tone. You want nothing more than to believe him, but you’ve lost so much in your life, it's hard to believe in any kind of positive outcome.

“I don’t. But you have to look at it that way. You have to give yourself something to hope for. You’re just making yourself miserable by expecting the worst.”

“It’s easier if I expect the worst and then the worst happens. I prepared myself for it at least.”

“No, baby. That’s not healthy.” He says tilting your head back to look into your eyes. “I know you’ve been through so much, and it always feels like life is out to get you. But I promise it’s not all bad out there. There are so many exciting things for you to experience, but you have to try. You have to have hope. Can you try for me today?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your nose. “Please, my girl?” You slowly nod your head in his hold, but he shakes his. “Nuh uh, baby. I need to hear you say you’re going to try for me today.”

“I pr-promise I’ll try, Harry.” He smiles at you.

“Good girl.” He says, stepping back to the stove, but not before pecking your lips.

He continues to make breakfast and serves you at the island. As he places the plates down, his phone vibrates next to him. A message from Ryan displayed on the screen.

Right Hand Ryan: Good morning Mr. Styles. Walker agreed to a meeting this morning at 10:30. I’ll see you when you arrive at the office.

Harry: Thank you, Ryan.

Going about the rest of your morning routine with Harry feels so domestic and right to you. You still can’t believe that a stranger you met in a parking lot would mean this much to you now. You’re certain of how you feel, but you won’t let the words come out. But Harry knows. He can see it in how you look at him. He just hopes you can tell he feels the same in the way he looks at you. 

The two of you make your way downstairs, just in time for Jesse to make his way inside to help open.

“Good morning you two. I wasn’t sure what the plan was but I was gonna show up either way.” Jesse says from the doorway.

“We’re gonna milk this for all it’s worth and go from there.” You say, squeezing Harry’s hand beside you. He squeezes yours right back. “Everything will fall into place.” 

“Hell yeah. I like the sound of that.” Jesse says, pumping his fist in the air. “I’ll get my stuff set up then. See you later, Harry. Thanks again for yesterday.” He says, giving Harry a fist bump before he goes into the back room.

“What a lovely pep talk, baby. Sounds like you’ve got a great life coach.” Harry says leaning down to kiss you.

“Mm, not sure about a life coach. But I’ve got a pretty good boyfriend.”

“Can he fight? Because you’re mine, in case you forgot.”

“Not sure about that. I’m sure he can though. He’s good at everything he does. Especially this one thing with his ton-,”

“Okay, pretty, I really have to go, and if you finish tha-“ you cut him off with a kiss.

“Off you go, my sweet boy.” You say smiling up at him. He’s got hearts in his eyes at the moniker. You haven’t called him anything but Harry all these months.

“I’ll be back for you later,” he grumbles before kissing you once more, and then he’s gone.

Jesse does his best to distract you throughout the morning. He kept showing you how well he could form a rose now on the nail. It was so nice seeing him so proud of himself. You felt so happy knowing that the knowledge you taught him was making this kind of impact on him. 

It’s Christmas Eve. Harry asked you to spend the holiday with him at his place, but you begged him to spend it with you at yours. You said you wanted to spend as much time in your place as you could before it was no longer yours. It tugged at his heartstrings and he folded. You had no idea of the trick up his sleeve anyhow. So the place he presented it to you was of no matter.

“Baby, can you help me with this real fast?” You say from the living room. Harry nearly slices his finger off at you calling him ‘baby’. He still hasn’t stopped thinking about you calling him your ‘sweet boy’ the other day. After hearing both of these names you’ve chosen for him he’s certain he never wants to hear you call him Harry again.

“Y-yeah, of course.” He says setting the knife down and walking over to you. You’re setting up the christmas tree you had tucked away in the closet, but you can't quite reach to set the star on top. “What’s up, pretty? Oh, you’re being vertically challenged, eh?” He teases, taking the star from your grasp and placing it atop the tree. He turns and looks at you and chuckles at the frown etched all over your face.

“Shut up. It’s not like I can help it.” You huff. “Not everyone is a big, tall, pain in the ass of a man.” You say as he inches closer to you, winding his arms around you and pulling you closer with every word that left your lips.

“I know, I’m sooo annoying and such a pain in the ass. I know, baby.” He coos at you, placing a kiss to your forehead. You spin in his hold and take in the state of your christmas tree. “Looks beautiful, my girl. He places another kiss to your temple.

“Does it? Is it good enough to be our first christmas tree?” You ask quietly. Placing your hands over his arms as they lay across your chest.

“You kiddin’? Course it is. You did it, so it's perfect.” He says, making you roll your eyes. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me. It’s true.” One of his hands travels south to pinch your ass, again.

“How would you know I rolled my eyes? You can’t even see my face.” 

“Mm, on the contrary, my love. I see your face every time I close my eyes. But I know you rolled your eyes because I know you.” Harry says, spinning you back around in his hold. “Now, come. We have much to do in the kitchen.”

“Harry, I’m not kissing you every 30 seconds because you bought yourself a ‘Kiss the Cook!’ apron.

“No, no. None of that in my kitchen right now. We’ve got a meal to prepare. Now, follow my lead.” He says placing your hands on his hips and guiding you to the kitchen.

Harry had two different gifts to give you, but he had to wait until early Christmas morning to get one of them. He wooed you with a delicious home cooked meal, some wine and another bath that wasn’t so PG rated thanks to said wine, and a good cuddle session before bed.

Harry stirs awake just a little before the sunrise. He eases himself from your hold and sneaks his way into the living room. Looking for the item in question, he places it into the gift box and sets it under the tree with the other presents, and then tiptoes back to your bedroom to lay with you until you wake up. He sets himself back down on your bed and inches his way towards you, careful not to wake you before you’re ready. (He made that mistake before) You stir slightly in your sleep and turn towards him, placing your hand on his chest. He takes the opportunity to take that hand in his and position himself under you so you could rest your head on his chest. He studies your face and takes in how serene you look. How at peace, how happy you look. It makes tears burn at the seams of his eyes, but you begin to move and he wipes them away.

“Too early.” You mumble, pulling your comforter up over your head.

“Ah, but baby, Santa was here and I think he wants you to open your presents.” Harry coos at you, slowly pulling the blanket off of you.

“Santa can fuck off.” You huff.

“Such language. You kiss your man with that mouth?” He quips at you, placing a soft smack to your ass.

“Mm, all the time. Says he loves my filthy mouth.”

“Oh, I do, sweetheart.” He concurs. “But, I do really need you to get up. We’ve got a breakfast to make and presents to open, my sweet girl.” He says placing his arms under your legs, and your back before lifting you from your bed.

“Harry! Stop, I need pants.” You say as he leaves your bedroom.

“Oh, I beg to differ on that one, love.” He says setting you down on the couch.

“It’s cold in here, you horn dog.” You scold him.

“Ah, but I can think of so many things we could do to warm you up that don’t involve pants.”

“Oh my god, down boy. Take your bone and chill.” You say making your way back to your room.

Upon your return, Harry is waiting for you on the couch, quite literally looking like a kid on Christmas. “Come sit with me.” He says holding his hand out to you. Taking your seat next to him, he pulls your legs to rest in his lap before reaching over and grabbing the two gift boxes he has for you.

“Oh, yours is that big box right there.” You point next to the tree. He smiles and grabs the box and places it in front of him. He hands you the first of the two boxes he wants you to open. Pulling the ribbon from the top of the box, you pull the top of the box off and open it to find a singular key. “It’s a key.” You say. “I’m lost.” You laugh out.

“That, my love, is a key to my house.” He deadpans, searching your face for a reaction. “If you want it, of course.” You snap your head to look at him. Tears have formed in your waterline and your lip begins to quiver. “Oh, baby. This wasn’t meant to make you cry. I’m sorry.” He says pulling you into his embrace.

“No, No, it's fine. Really. I’m happy.” You assure him. “I’m so happy.” You say pressing your lips to his. “So, so, so happy.”.

“So you’ll move in with me?” He asks excitedly.

“Of course I will.” You say, grabbing his hand and leaving a kiss on his palm. “I’d love nothing more, baby.” 

“You keep calling me that.” He mumbles.

“I’m sorry, do you not like it?”

“No, I don't like it.” He deadpans, making you sweat a little. “I love it. Please keep going.”

“Oh, okay you narcissist. Your turn to open something.” You say lightly pushing him off of you.

“Alright, alright.” He slides the big box closer to him. “I thought I told you I didn't need anything from you.” He says.

“I thought I told you to shut up and open your present.” You scold him

“Okay, down girl.” He muses at you. Harry starts tearing the wrapping paper to get to the present beneath it. He’s met with the words ‘Audio Technica’ and a smile breaks onto his face. “A turntable? You got me a turntable?” He looks to you with adoration in his eyes.

“Yeah, thought you might like to start your own collection since you liked going through mine so much.” You say smiling at him. 

“My sweet, sweet girl.” He says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Thank you, baby. I absolutely love it.”

“There was another part to it, but that’s the part that Jackson broke.” You whispered out. “I went back to that record store you took me to on our second date and got you that limited edition Pink Floyd record. I wanted to get you your first record too.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. I love this without the record. We can always find another one someday.”

“I guess you’re right.” You huff. 

“Course I am. Now, I believe you have one more present to open.” He says handing you the other little gift box. He keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you pull the top off of the box.

“It’s.. my keys?” You say pulling your keys from the box. “What is it with you and keys?” You ask him. He just stares at you with a shit eating grin. “Well?”

“Allow me to explain.” Harry says before his story begins.

The morning of his meeting with Jeff Walker, he’d been determined to change the outcome of this purchase no matter what it took. He was certain things would go in his favor; they always did. It also helped that Walker was a past associate of Harry’s so there was already a mutual respect there.

Walker knocks on Harry’s office door and Ryan lets him in. The men shake hands and proceed to take their respective seats. “Harry, you old dog. I must say, I was surprised to get your meeting request, old friend. How long has it been?” “Too long, Jeff. How’s the wife?” Harry muses from his seat. 

“Ah, Janet is lovely. She’s actually in Japan right now, but she is not the reason you wanted this meeting. So, my good man, do enlighten me.

“Nothing gets by you, Jeff. I indeed do need your help.”

“Well, I am all ears. Always willing to help an old friend in need. What can I do for you, Styles?”

“First, let me ask you this, what exactly is your business with Jackson Cole?” Harry asks, fiddling with the pen between his fingers.

“Ah, that boy. He came to me a few weeks ago asking if he could buy a property of mine. Says he wants to delve into the realm of property owning.” Jeff begins, “But at first I wasn’t budging. That was until he offered to pay in cash. So I accepted his offer.”

“See, that’s where my problem is.”

“I’m not following, Harry.”

“Jeff, I met a girl this year and she’s turned out to mean more to me than anyone else on this planet.”

“That doesn’t seem like much of a problem to me.” Jeff laughs from his seat.

“No, that’s not the problem.” Harry chuckles, “The problem is that she used to be in a relationship with Cole. A toxic one; He was horrible to her. And now Cole is planning on using the building he’s purchasing from you to try and ruin her life. Her business is in that building, and he’s told her she’s got a week to get out.”

“Well, the sale isn’t even finalized until next week.” Jeff says from his chair. “And I don’t like the sound of this kid. I’m surprised he’s still here.”

“That’s being handled once we’re done here,” Harry muses, “So there’s time then? To cancel the deal?”

“Indeed, but i quite liked the idea of selling that building, Harry, i can’t even lie to you.”

“I’ll buy it then. I’ll give you what he was going to give you. I’ll even throw in covering the cancellation costs and a stipend for you.”

“You really like this girl, huh, Styles?”

“You have no idea, Jeff. Do we have a deal?” Harry asks, reaching his hand across his desk.

“Of course, old friend.” He grabs Harry’s hand in a firm shake, “Let’s try to not let as much time pass before our next meeting, Harry.”

“Agreed, Jeff. Have a great trip back to the city. I greatly appreciate your time today.”

“I hope you make that girl's day when you tell her.” Jeff says before making his way out. Harry lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. He was certain he’d be able to get what he needed from this meeting, but it still shook him to his core to know that Y/N’s business was on the line. He was willing to do whatever it took, but he was thankful Jeff was so willing to help Harry out. Although it might be because Harry had been Jeff’s biggest donor when he was starting his company. But Jeff would never admit that.

“Are you going to tell Y/N?” Ryan asks from his desk in the corner.

“Soon, yes. First, I need you to get Cole in here. Tell him I’m not asking.”

“Yes, Mr. Styles.” Ryan says before leaving the office in search of Jackson.

“Y-you bought this place?” You ask him, unable to contain your tears anymore. "I thought you said Walker backed out of the deal."

“He did, out of the deal with Jackson and into one with me. It's all yours, Love.”

“Wait. Harry, I don’t know how to be a landlord.”

“Ah, not to worry, love. I’ll take care of all of that. You just worry about making your sweets and running your business. But I still want you to come home to me every night.”

“Harry.” You say. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, baby. You don’t have to say anything at all.” He says cradling you to his chest.

“I just can’t believe someone would do something like this for me.” You say cupping his face with both hands. 

He reaches up and grips your wrists lightly and looks into your eyes, “I would do anything for you, my perfect girl.” He kisses you softly. “I love you.. So much.” He says, happy tears streaming down his face as he looks at you with such adoration.

Those words. Those words you’d been so desperate to hear for the longest time, and for someone to mean them? You’re a mess. Harry showed you that it’s okay to get your hopes up, because he’ll max out your expectations every time. You’re sure you’re bawling but can’t seem to care. You’re certain you feel the same. “And I love you so much, my sweet, perfect boy.” You say before kissing him with more fervor than you ever have before. He pulls away and he’s looking at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. “Merry Christmas, Baby.” You say to him.

“Merry Christmas, Love.”

Bonus:

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Styles?” Jackson says as he enters Harry’s office.

“Indeed, son. Have a seat.” Harry motions to the chairs across from his desk. Jackson takes a seat and glances around the room warily.

“Now, I’m going to explain this to you very quickly and carefully, Cole. You are going to walk out of this office, go into the locker room and clear your shit out.” “Wait a sec-” Jackson begins to speak, but Harry’s quicker.

“Silence. I’m speaking.” Harry says, waving his hand. “As I was saying, after you’ve cleared out your locker, there's a plane waiting for you at the airport. Your apartment is in the process of being sold and all your items are being packed at this very moment. The plane will be taking you to Los Angeles where you will join their 53 man roster as a third string quarterback.”

“Third string? What is the meaning of this, sir?”

“I am so glad you asked.” Harry muses. “It seems you can’t leave alone what’s mine. So I'm removing you from the situation in a way that keeps you alive, me out of prison, and my girlfriend's mind at ease.”

“Mr. Styles, with all due respect I’m of more use to you here.”

“Really? A dead last draft pick that cant keep his feet on the ground is of use to me here? How does that make any sense? The same dead last draft pick that fumbled the ball more times than I could count in last year's championship game?”

“Sir, please, I’ll do anyth–”

“Enough. The decision has been made, Cole. You’re free to go. Say goodbye to your teammates and be on your way.” Harry says, making Jackson stand from his seat. “One more thing,” Harry starts before Jackson can leave, “If you ever try to speak to, bother, or even breathe the same air as Y/N again, I will have your career. You’re lucky you still have one. You can thank her for that. She wouldn’t be able to live with it if I’d gotten to do what I actually wanted to. So, count your blessings, boy.” He pauses briefly, taking in the look of anger and desperation all over Jackson’s face. “Have I made myself clear?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Styles.”

a/n 2.0: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR COMING ALONG WITH ME ON THIS JOURNEY!! THANK YOU AGAIN TO MOTHER @freedomfireflies FOR THE ENCOURAGEMENT AND LOVE. I really owe so much to you!! I absolutely adore you 🫶🏻🩵

please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed <3

taglist: @stylesfever @olipoli21 @hermionelove @st-ev-ie @mrs-anna-styles211994 @hannah9921 @velvetballaspark

#harry x reader #mdni & dividers both by @/cafekitsune #harry imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry edward styles #harry styles one shot #harry smut #harry styles

[buccini555]

𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬: "𝐏𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲"

≡ You invited all your friends to your birthday party but only they came

♡ ⠂⠂୨୧ H e a d c a n o n s

⌕ 𝑭𝒕. Hanma Shuji, Kisaki Tetta, Takeomi Akashi, Wakasa Imaushi, Shinichiro Sano, Mitsuya Takashi, Hakkai Shiba and Taiju Shiba

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝.𝟷 | 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝.𝟸

‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐣𝐢‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊

Just when you were losing all hope of anyone coming to your party, Hanma showed up completely late with some flowers in his hands.

"Happy birthday! Wait... Are you crying?" He wouldn't even realize how late he was, much less that there was no one there, however, as soon as he came to his senses, he realized that none of the guests had attended your party.

"What the fuck are they thinking? Damn! I'm sorry, but, well... At least I'm here with you, it's not a big deal, but at least I am." Even though Shuji didn't show his feelings much, he would be a little sad seeing you so hurt at your own birthday party, so he did his best to cheer you up, handing you the small bouquet of flowers and covering you with hugs and caresses throughout the day.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐓𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊

Kisaki would be the first guest to arrive at your party, he would shyly hand you your gift and kiss your cheek, as time passed, he realized that no one else would come.

"I'm sorry for no one came..." He would hug you, gently comforting you until you calmed down, that situation made him feel incapable, since the only thing he could do for you was just stay by your side.

"I'm not going to let those bastards ruin your birthday, we can celebrate together, I know I'm not the best person for this, but... I'll do anything for you." Kisaki would say, resting you on his chest and stroking your hair subtly, spending the rest of the day being affectionate like never before.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊

Having spent the night before drinking, on your birthday Takeomi would wake up dazed from the feeling of post-drinking, for this reason, even if he was late, he couldn't help but attend your birthday party.

"I'm here, my little princess, do you think I would miss your birthday?" Takeomi would hug you as soon as you opened the door, without even noticing the fact that you were crying, however, when he realized that the room was empty and you were ending up in tears, the older realized that only he had attended to celebrate your party.

"Bunch of fuckers... No one came, right? No need to cry, I'm just here for you, hm? I'll teach them a lesson later..." Takeomi would speak, comforting you in any way he could, after that, he would celebrate your birthday by your side, even forgetting about his drinking headache.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊𝐖𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐚 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊

"Am I too early, my princess?" Wakasa would say when he arrived at your birthday party and saw that there was absolutely no one but you and he, at that same moment, you hugged him, when he observed the sadness in your expression, he realized that none of the guests had shown up.

"... Holy shit, how did they have the cowardice to do this to you? I'm not going to allow some useless people to ruin your birthday." He would speak in a low and crestfallen tone, caressing your face and gently wiping away each of your tears, even though the older didn't express himself so easily, he was definitely determined to make you happy again.

"I'm here... I don't want to see those beautiful eyes full of tears again." After comforting you and cheering you up at least a little, Wakasa and you would stay together, eating the party's sweets and snacks while he would hug and kiss you every minute.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊

Shinichiro always took your birthday really seriously, always being the first to wish you a "happy birthday", for that reason, the boy would definitely be the first to attend your birthday party, giving you your favorite gift and some beautiful flowers, it would take a long time for Shinichiro to notice the disappointment in your eyes when he came to the conclusion that no one else would come to his birthday party.

"H-hey... Don't cry, don't let them ruin your party. I'm here, I'll always be..." The same would say with the intention of consoling you, then hugging you and giving you all the affection possible until you finally calm down.

Shinichiro would really be there for you and for you, celebrating your party as if nothing had gone wrong, you and him would have fun eating all the chocolate cake and cheese snacks.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊

Mitsuya would definitely take his little sisters to celebrate your birthday, being the first to arrive, Mana and Luna would give you your gift, right after, Mitsuya would wish you congratulations with a subtle kiss on your cheek, as time went by, no one in addition to the three, he had arrived at your celebration and as soon as the boy noticed the sadness in your eyes, he felt even worse.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry... But, we're here to celebrate with you." He would say, giving you a tight hug, trying to cheer you up even if it didn't seem possible.

Throughout the day, Mitsuya would try hard to keep you distracted from the event, you would actually have fun together even more with the presence of the sweet little girls, he would be as attentive as always, making you feel much better.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊𝐇𝐚𝐤𝐤𝐚𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐚‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊

"S-sorry! I ended up being so late that everyone already left-" You would interrupt Hakkai with a tight hug and as soon as he noticed your face full of tears, he would realize that no one had attended your party birthday, at that moment, the tallest just returned the hug, leaving the gift he had bought you aside for a brief moment.

"...I'm sorry, don't cry, please." He would say being heartbroken to see you crying exactly on the day you should be smiling, even without knowing what to do or how to act, Hakkai would be determined not to let that day end in even more sadness.

Hakkai would remain by your side throughout the day trying to cheer you up in any way he could, you would eat cake together and the taller one would spend the day telling you random facts about his stressful routine just to get a few smiles from you.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊𝐓𝐚𝐢𝐣𝐮 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐚‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊

"I hope I was the first to come and honor my little doll's birthday." Taiju really wasn't the affectionate type of guy, however, for your birthday, he would at least try to be less cold, ending up being the first to arrive and showering you with the most varied gifts and flowers of every color he could find, despite furthermore, when Taiju realized that time was passing and no one else showed up for his party, he began to get angry, even more so when he saw you crying because of this fact.

"You don't need to cry like that, I'm here! Then I'll personally try to teach your colleagues a lesson." Taiju would say in a serious and threatening tone, somewhat worried about your condition, his heart that felt like iron melted like butter when he saw how much it had affected you.

"God! How did they have the courage to do that to you..." He would finally give in and end up hugging you in search of comforting you, Taiju would become the most affectionate maid possible on that date to simply not end up destroying your long-awaited birthday.

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